Mouth2Mouth & Lips Inc.

Se-pedas pedas sambal, tak Se-PEDAS SAMBA...

2008-07-24T15:09:00.006+08:00

Cheering crowds greet Brazil’s samba stars – That’s today’s headline in The Straits Times…

Yellow fever hit Changi Airport yesterday, when Brazil’s Olympic football squad arrived ahead of their friendly match here on Monday…

And then Ziehan called me this afternoon

Zie: Devashi asked if you are aware that the Brazilian is in town for a football match?

Me: Oh yes…they will be playing against our National team this Monday.

Zie: Are you gonna watch them play?

Me: I don’t think so.

Zie: The ticket is selling at S$60.00 and S$120.00 and available at all SISTIC outlets.
Me: I know…and that’s expensive for just an Olympic Team. I’ll pay that money if it’s Liverpool playing though.
Zie: Devashi has a ticket.
Me: Did he get it for free?
Zie: NO!! He bought two. He may be going with a friend.
Me: Is there a chance that I might be that FRIEND?
Zie: I don’t think so.
Me: DAMN!

Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary:

Anticlimax (noun) –

1. A sentence in which the ideas fall, or become less important and striking, at the close; -- the opposite of climax. It produces a ridiculous effect.

2. A sudden descent in speaking or writing from the impressive or significant to the ludicrous or inconsequential, or an instance of it.

Note: Example

Devashi asked if you are going to see the Brazilian in town because he bought two tickets to watch a football match with a friend……………………BUT you’re not HIM.

"Antara Pompuan, Isteri - Hasad Dan Dengki" Pt.2

2008-07-23T17:03:00.002+08:00

What accounts for this outpouring of venom about a woman which, when all is said and done, remains just a tiny speck in our lives? The answer is rather simple. I am not about to allow anyone in Klaz, myself included, to be made a convenient scapegoat for a deeper crisis of confidence which now grips her life.

This woman may have a diabolic plot of her own, but in http://www.sircumalot.multiply.com/ and http://www.jollyjack.blogspot.com/, I will show her that I am far from being grounded. No matter how desperate she seemed or how low she had stooped or how wild some of her allegations may have been, I will turn around an adverse situation and continue to put her under siege and, like it or not, I intend to expose the character of this wicked woman to the light of day.

Here, I append below a posting I once made in my private chamber. Read through if you have to; or don’t if you don’t want to. If you don’t already know, the identity of this woman will reveal itself. Klaz must come to terms that this is not a personal crusade for me. I am neither a defender of your rights nor a protector of your faiths. I am merely preserving my ‘maruah’ and that of my wives with a view that we could welcome a period of renewed hope to cope with the many adversities and distraction, not all of which are of our own making. Just read and observe the following and this series will continue…

Colour Me Bad

We all know that purple is not a primary color. It does not possess a property, quality or ‘passion’ of color by which it can be perceived as its own product. The color is a product of mix and match, and the absence of its own hue makes the color lacks ‘brightness’. A color is a color by its hue; but if it’s made of only ‘hue and cry’, the passion and the character of its color is but a somber hue.

So you do not write to GOD. So you do not play board game. And by your own admission, you are also stupid. So how the F***K is that my problem!! I couldn’t have agreed more with your dad (may Allah blessed his soul) – “if you have nothing intelligent to say, you better not say anything at all.” Unfortunately, you pay no heed to good and priceless advice. You should have listened more to him than to yourself.

Some people are wise, and some people are otherwise. There is a difference between wisdom and stupidity you know. Just so that you understand, wise men talk because they have something to say; fools like you, because they have to say something. In your futile attempt to absolve yourself against any wrong, you rattled and rambled so incoherently. What a tangled web you weaved, when you practice just to deceive. For quite a while you sounded like you are one third of “The Three Stooges.” All said and done, you stopped short of addressing the issue that is central to Ziehan’s entry dated 13nth Dec 2006. Denial is the first access to the truth, and the absence of which constitutes a clear admission of guilt.

If you had read Ziehan’s entry with a clear conscience, you would not have rambled like an idiot. Under normal circumstances, I don’t make it my practice to argue with idiots. They have this natural ability to drag you down to their level and beat you with experience. When you tried so hard to be smart and act innocent all at the same time, what was visible for all to see was the two fools in you collide. It is the nature of guilt to make people lie and cheat, to hide the truth to their very best, to cut all friendships and enmities to the measure of their own interest, and to make a good countenance without the help of good will. If there is any vestige of humility, come clean, come good and liberate yourself from that ‘The Temple Of Your Doom’ – you are no High Priest.

I know that I am not your only friend. Perhaps I never was. The rights to express one’s self in one’s own space is our liberty that we do not surrender under any circumstances. That I beg to agree with you in totality. BUT other than that, you are a load of nonsense. Ziehan have said before that we have no qualms about people coming in and out of our space. A matter of fact, we have people from far and away who frequented us like an honorary patron. They are so religious that they even vowed to patronize us until they drop dead. It’s a free world – of course there is nothing criminal about reading. But what do you call those who intruded upon us with mischief in mind? Those that hide behind their keyboard, impersonating an identity to operate malice and disparaging comments? Have I not take my critics well? I could have deleted all the disparaging comments and banned the IP addresses – but I did not. Sometimes, some things make beautiful telling; it adds a dash of color to a page. But when one continues to transgress beyond the bounds of propriety with an absolute disregard for ethics, you compromised with the limit of our tolerance.

You must have had a ball of a time thinking that I will not respond to you. Here, not only will I respond to you, I will also compartmentalize the issue in question. Please know that you shall never have the last say, and for as long as you are the merchant of that insidious character; and for that ill intent that you tried to inflict upon Ziehan and I, I will not spare you the privilege of tact and diplomacy.

And then you professed your love for your friends and questioned my loyalty for them. You even asked if I have any friends at all. If you must know, I have more friends in my life than you could ever have life in your friends. If its hard for you to comprehend the context of this sentence, all you need to do is ‘semak 2’ your mailbox, refer to that email that you sent to Klaz dated 17 Aug 2006 where with callous indifference you called your friends ‘mayat mayat yang bernyawa’. Hence I will say it again - I have more friends in my life than you could ever have life in your friends. In your own wonderful world, you are your own beautiful people. There is this smugness about you that leaves me with enough to believe that you are an incorrigible narcissist.

I have never pushed my friends aside like you have suggested, and I certainly don’t intend to. Why should I? The value and respect that I have for them is priceless. It’s only you that I have little concession for if not none at all. While it’s true that I sometimes took a swipe at Klaz, I have nothing against them at all. I do not hide behind my keyboard nor do I mince my words. But there was never and occasion that I wrote about Klaz making inferences in a derogatory form. Where and when credit is due, I also wrote a tribute to Klaz. So just do not make a mention about something that you think you can conveniently use to champion and facilitate your own course. It must have been painful enough an experience for you to be stabbed in the back by some friends. For all its intent and purpose, they must have a very good reason for that. Whether or not you deserved it of course is another question. If you love me still like you said you do, you are going to love me even more as a friend now – because today I will stab you in the front. Remember that Oscar Wilde once said “A true friend stabs you in the front.”

Now that you have said enough to painfully demonstrate at length to convince others if not yourself that purple is virtue, you might want to walk with me down memory lane and slap yourself in the face – left, right and center!

Before you want to adjudge others, let us go through these chronicle of events and together we evaluate its fair values.

The Rise And Fall Of Klaz 78:

31st May 2005 – Was it not you who wrote in Klaz website “I being myself, looking at it from my point of view, see myself building the bridge and closing the gap of the missing years since 1978

“For me, this is a brand new friendship, found and brought home by……………………., something I never experience while I was in school”

30th Dec 2005 – Was it not you who also wrote to Klaz “As moderator and owner of this group, I have decided base on my judgement, to disintegrate this Klaz78 effective 10 Jan 2006…………………… 27 years ago, in school I hardly knew any one of you, and it sadden me today, as I am leaving this Klaz, that I do not not any one of you any better. But that is the choices that I have made…………….. If I do not hear from anybody, I will continue to delete and disintegrate Klaz78.”

6th Jan 2006 – you celebrated your decision to disintegrate Klaz with an email captioned “yeahhhhh….!!!” And you rejoiced your decision to disintegrate Klaz with a threat of a countdown. And was it not you who wrote… “the countdown just begun.”

Crisis Management:

You tried to mediate a crisis between Ziehan and Dinz. You made us all believed that you have the principal, conviction, respectability and impartiality of a good leader. For a moment you assumed that responsibility well enough. Was it not you who wrote….

20th Sept 2005 – “….kita tegur menegur biar lah dengan baik,,,dan perkara perkara private kita cakapkan ajer kat talipon, ...call...!!!kata korang semua mengaku kawan....”

In a strange twist of event, you did not observe that same decorum. Was it not you who also wrote….

4th Jan 2006 – “pd Lisa Mose & Azizah ni saya nak beritau...tak perlu bermanis manis di hadapan saya, perbuatan kamu membuat saya mual & muak peri laku kamu tidak seindah bicara kamu manis kamu cuma di tepi bibir………… Din, kalau nak tambah, jgn tambah sikit sikit....nak tambah banyak banyak lagi baguss....kita semua dah banyak berdosa. pd diri sendiri jgn di tambah tambah lagi berdosa ngan org lain hitung dan conggak sendiri tepuk dada tanya buah dada jgn nak kental buah cherri.………… dan email ni jgn kamu semua sebar satu Klaz....”

Question: If it was not meant for Klaz but you sent to most, what the hell were you talking about?

The Day I Lost All Respect For You:

25th April 2006 - Klaz was shocked by the news of a death. A friend’s father in-law passed away and the following SMS messages ensued. Was it not you who wrote…

You: “Dear all, pls do not ask me to
1) sampaikan salam
2) sampaikan takziah
3) kirim kirim selawat
4) go to the funeral with u. Bcosam not going. U can ctc azizah”

Me: “Dear all, if we don’t have what it takes to do what is morally right, just stop behaving like an adult with the trappings of a 6 years old mentality. Salam sejahtera untuk semua.”

You: “U sending tis 2 all? Or jus to me? Or u want me to forward tis on yr behalf too? U pun mcm azizah juga? Kata u all kengkawan, apasal tak simpan kawan2 nyer nbrs?”

Me: “Not to worry… I have all their numbers. It’s the need to be petty that I don’t have. If comparing me to Azizah is a compliment, then I accept it with thanx. But if you have an idea that is otherwise, lets muhasabah diri masing2.”

You: “I state my mind clear to all. I dun want to be answering to evri queries, which I dun hv time to answer, and on the 1st place am forwarding cos azizah your gud fren, ask for my help. And wattaF* I get? Well, only got myself to blame, shd ask her to tell evri1 herself. Btw, what is morally rite? U care2 xplain?”

Me: “Of course I care to explain BUT only to those that care to listen. Which attributes in my opinion you do not possess.”

You: “ Ya u r rite, I dun pocess yr attribution, n I dun hv time to listen to insult aft months of not talking to anyone fm k78. I only do what is rite for me. Perhaps u can teach yr other friends those attributions so they’ll turn out fine jus like u. Count me out.

Me: “I find it rather strange that you consider teguran yang baik as an insult. Especially when I did not use the term F** like u did. I don’t have to teach anyone to share my attributes. I will leave the teaching to the teachers and the F***ing to the F***ers. And that need not necessarily be us.”

The Crux Of The Matters

Was it not you who called on Ziehan during the early period of my relationship with her to warn her about me? How do you qualify yourself to tell someone whom you knew not about someone else whom you knew not either? If it was just by words of mouth that you knew me, what did that make you?

Was it not you who wrote just recently “Pi sanjung orang orang yg terdekat...lagi baik.…….. Aku doa kan kebahagian kau lagiii arrr..Mana kau tau, tu semua? Kau nak mabuk bercinta, kau punya sukalah, bagus lah tu...”

Question: How can you try to prevent a relationship and be happy for us at the same time? You must be absolutely mental to think that I am the one who are confused.

Finally, the matter that matters most – Was it not you who just recently established communication with someone whom you know not just so that you can play a cameo role in a crisis that didn’t even involve you.

Now that I’m done, you can go seek solace in GOD or bleed to death. Somewhere, somehow if someone were to ask me “WHY”, I will answer with a deep feeling of regret “YOU ASK FOR IT”.

To Be Continued…

"Antara Pompuan, Isteri - Hasad Dan Dengki"

2008-07-18T23:54:00.002+08:00

All the posturing behind the scenes and things that have appeared in this media look very unsavoury, but it is the reality that I want Klaz to face. It is anybody’s guess what this churning will throw in the end. What is clear though, is that - I will have to pull the rug on which stands the world’s most deprived woman.

It is very disturbing to see a matter on which hinges moral issues being ignored by many in Klaz. We all know that there is a sick woman among us who has been hankering for attention at any price. I am aware that “ignorance is bliss” – and no one has to bother actually. But we will lose all sense of propriety if we are only focused on serving our own needs. For me, I will never allow ‘Hasad dan Dengki’ to succeed in undermining Klaz siratulrahmi. I can’t just turn my back on what’s happened because there are important lessons to be learnt.

Unfortunately, it is no longer about who is telling the truth or who is right or wrong. It is about perception and what people believe or want to believe; because every society must find and decide the appropriate balance between rights and responsibilities for themselves.

Today, I will allow you to examine for yourselves the portrait that emerges from this confused character. You’ll observe that despite all her best and exhaustive efforts to project herself as a ‘Muslimah Berdakwah,’ she is actually one conflicted and mentally naïve individual who was not especially pious and devoted only to the crude trappings of “Hasad dan Dengki.”

The egoism of this woman, while understandable, is also disturbing…

Here is a story about a woman, who in her haste to menjatuhkan maruah seseorang muslimah, actually berkomplot dengan kaum keluarga orang lain dan memporak perandakan siratulrami keluarga itu.

Here is a story of a woman, whose dakwah on “Tahlil/ tudung/siratulrahmi/walimatul urus/etc and etc…” questions hukum hukum that touches the issue of “Aqidah.” And yet, in her blog, I have seen postings of hadith and firman and also a picture of the holy Ka’bah yang di-latar belakangkan gambar perumpuan separuh bogel.

Here is a story of a muslimah, whose opinion on ‘aurat’ is all about covering her head but not her mouth. And with all of her virtues and none of her shortcoming, she picks an icon of a fully naked woman for a preview panel in her yahoo messenger. Here I am completely flummoxed – how can this muslimah, whose ‘akhlaq’ is so questionable, yet with egotistical bravado, put Klaz to task with her ‘dakwah’ on ‘Aqidah’ when Klaz was merely congregating for a majlis ‘Tahlil.’

Here is a story of a ‘friend’ who has put about her reckoning that she is within touch of disintegrating Klaz by threatening to dismantle the network that she so very bravely takes credit for assembling.

Here is a story of a wife who sets out to influence public opinion by creating doubts and tearing down the credibility of a man she used to share her life with.

And then, there is a story of a woman who tried to make a convincing case for herself by trying to shift the blame to those “damned fucking pigs shisha friends…” and probably many others too for her domestic fiasco.

These are only some examples of the aggravating distraction that Klaz 78 is facing. I don’t know if Klaz is still coping with the effects of the setback with much needed kesabaran to ignore her - when she calls others bangkai, bastard, piece of shits, motherfucker, Pak Haji kolot, Doraemon, Pokemon and many more…

Sometime ago, I wrote something in my private chamber. I will reveal this article for the benefit of all in due course. While I am aware that Klaz is still fragile and prone to fragmentation, now, more than ever, amid the debris of the numerous attacks, Klaz should be able to see the extent to which we have been weakened. It shames me to notice how your silence has only emboldened her.

Our credibility must be safeguarded. It is in the interest of none, except those walking wounded, for Klaz to fail, for failure will exact a price even more satisfying to this wicked character. For me, I will never allow ‘Hasad dan Dengki’ to succeed in undermining Klaz siratulrahmi. She will not succeed…NOT on my watch!

To Be Continued…..

Screw The Hard PeCK - No Huff, No Puff, No Bluff

2008-07-08T17:02:00.004+08:00

As of 9th June 2008, I am officially a non- smoker. It has now been a month since I am on a nicotine free diet. Do I have a withdrawal symptom? Hell YES - and DAMN you all if you think it’s easy. Has it been easy?? Hell NO!!

They all say that the first one-week is the critical seven days. And then I read that the first month is actually the critical thirty days. I’ve been through these bends before. That was many years back when I managed to rehab myself against the habit for almost ten years. The mathematic thus is simple – I’ve negotiated more critical days during that ten years than those critical days that the theorem actually provides; yet it didn’t take me much to get reacquainted with a ‘hard pack of twenty’ habit.

What many of us don’t seem to realize is that to quit this habit, one needs trained mind, with an ability strong enough to determine the best way to lift our spirit out of the consuming desire. It is indeed a hard habit to break. What is frightful to contemplate is what failure might lead to if one easily yields to temptation. It was long taught that the best way to rehabilitate yourself against smoking, is to plan a time-table and introduce a gradual withdrawal. I have freed myself once before from the addiction of smoking only to become prisoner of the habit again. For this reason, I challenged my will to the punishing cold turkey method instead – no plan, no time-table and no gradual withdrawal. Just me, and my will to triumph with the courage of my own conviction to prevail. But equally important is the respect and love for the two women in my life that really care for my health.

While smoking per se is not an offence, lighting up a duty-not-paid stick is. But in the past, this has not distracted me from the task of importing for my own consumption a packet or two OR TEN from across the Causeway. Then, I have a lot to thank Baid for. Once a week, we would cruise together across the Causeway for our own separate reason. In retrospect, Baid spoiled me so much then, I think it’s quite fair to suggest that she was the guilty agent behind my tobacco addiction. After all, back when I was in school, I could have sworn that she was also part of the grand job that propelled me to pick up the habit. I am sure that the memory of Mt. Faber is as much alive within her as it has been within me. I remember being part of Syed Hashim, Jeffrey Anthony and Mustaffa to name a few - those were the smoking good ol’ days. And whatever we smoked back then, I remained convince till now that none among us will ever remember each other as that ‘damned fucking pigs smoking friends.’

For me, I will continue to fight my urge and stronger may I become. As for Baid, many thanx for being such a wonderful buddy. For being the guilty agent behind my tobacco addiction and also for being part of the grand job that propelled me to pick up the habit, I can only say “Engkau pun ada main peranan la Baid!!!” (Of course no offence intended)

You Have BLOOD On Your Hands!!!

2008-07-01T16:22:00.004+08:00

Life doesn’t always have to treat you well, but bitter experiences can sometimes help shape your life and offer opportunities – that was what I had learnt, all whilst trying to play to pitch perfect tones, the manners of a gracious host receiving an unexpected, if somewhat, awkward guests in my private chamber.

There exists a noisy convention of five to ten monkeys that jointly run a family circus. Between them, it was long observed that they share many ways to clamor for dominance. They can go tough and steely against those that oppose the doctrines of their ‘Banana Republic’ or touchy-feely with a Kleenex packet when one species tries to console the other.

This much I know - with life spans rivaling humans, monkeys are proving to possess some of the most elaborate social networks yet observed. A core group of maybe five to ten monkeys, led by the most overbearing and domineering female, makes decisions but it’s always the ‘BITCH’ that barks the loudest that has the final say. Researchers recently have uncovered evidence that these creatures engage in extraordinarily sophisticated forms of ‘bitching’, often across large and far-flung social networks.

The ‘Macaque’ or ‘Makchique’ is a species of gregarious old world monkeys of chiefly Asian origin. It was long known that this species possesses an uncanny ability to ally herself with alpha male like ‘Conan The Barbarian’, ‘Tarzan’, ‘Mat Kilau’ or any ‘MAT MELAYU’, befriend an alpha female like ‘The Witches Of Eastwick’ or campaign with her zookeeper, animal handler, taxi driver, teacher, policeman, policewoman, desperate housewives or a devil’s advocate. And when she furtively slams her opponents, she will quickly seek the measured endorsement of her group’s elders or the restless energy of her zookeeper, animal handler, taxi driver, teacher, policeman, policewoman, desperate housewives or a devil’s advocate. A quintessential opportunist, ‘Macaque’ or ‘Makchique’ knows only too well that a lone monkey is a weak monkey, a failure, with no chance it could thrive.

So, as a tantalizing bait to gain attention and sympathy, a ‘Macaque’ or ‘Makchique’ often has no qualm at all about over dramatizing her personal sob stories in an open theater. And when her circus is in town, we could, for instance, read into their comments and watch how they suggestively bite into one another’s bananas.

Here, I will continue to bring to the surface and lay bare my play for all and sundry to feast their eyes on, but what this play is about depends on your personal interpretation. This piece doesn’t impose, but leaves you free to revel in your own rampant fantasies.

I actually can’t see a reason for a ‘Macaque’ to play in a habitat that belongs to a family of monkey not that of her species. Her role in the circus has generated enough clouds of suspicion and I personally do not reject the possibility that she is every bit of her veins; a "Devil’s Advocate" who rejoices and celebrates the dismantling of ‘SIRATULRAHIM’ – be that of KLAZ, Ziehan's family and now - in her very own habitat. With all these in mind, I would like to remind her that she has blood on her hands; and lest she forgets, again I am telling you - “ENGKAU PUN ADA MAIN PERANAN LA BEB!!!”

While I agree that engaging audiences is an essential consideration, I feel it is time that my galleries become more tolerant to new experiences in my arts of writing and not get upset by a bit of blood. Where and when I express myself in a tightly woven scripts, it was never with an intent to make my show the most compelling play to watch. After all, if I can’t write with an open mind and a sense of adventure or encourage myself to take risks, I will end up with a very boring and fossilized mentality. There is joy in escaping into a different character; you know. I can be my most menacing when I write, yet there is this intricate balance of retaining a bit of myself that I find challenging and fun. And it has been a therapeutic process for me nonetheless.

"You'll Never Walk Alone"

2008-06-27T19:27:00.008+08:00

As I look back to those moments of time when we exchanged glances from across the table at The Coffee Beans, I can still remember the smile in her eyes as I stared deeply into them. The hunger we felt was never divulged, and it lay dormant inside of us until love conquers all.

It was something that neither of us ever expected. But as with all things in fate, when the time is right and the feeling is real, there is no stopping it. As we sat staring each other across the dinner table, watching each other in the flicker of the candlelight, we time-traveled all the way “Back To the Future” – reminiscing our yesterdays

The date was 4th March 2008 and that day dawned all to early for me. It is not everyday that someone can experience a joy as unique as the one that Ziehan and I have been sharing. From the open verandah of Villa Ginger, against the soft tranquil of the Botanic Garden, the evening was perfect, all but for the butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

To be in our mid forties and in love – I have come full circle and stopped questioning the directory of my journey. We do know however, that we can only ever give away what we have. To love another truly and completely, demands beliefs – that of ourselves and that of our future. Between Ziehan and I, we do know that this love means everything to us. And we had since agreed never to surrender our fates to them that lack the belief. This much I know – when who we are, our identity, or sense of self is determined by another person, it’s when we are weakest and most susceptible to dangers. When we allow another person to determine our happiness and our reason to live our lives by the rules of their dictates is when disaster strikes hardest.

I am prepared to learn from anyone who walks into my path and is willing to teach and share And I want to be an example to show that there is beauty in all pains and sufferings. It was here at the open verandah of Villa Ginger that I looked into the eyes of this woman, that I saw a pillar of hope and strength with also beauty and grace that belied her age. Between Ziehan Jazz and Mary Jazz, they produce combine energy enough to illuminate the initial darkness of my life with bright spark of light.

There are many facets to this man. I am a husband to two, a papa to three, a mentor to many bros, and also a social worker to my plants. Now I am also trying hard to be a survivor in part of nature’s process called ‘FATE.’ From expressing my bittersweet yearning and delicate pleas to the feeling of joy and abandonment, Ziehan knew that I have felt it all.

Against the picturesque and quaint surrounding of an Old Botanic, it was in her path that I placed my destiny. As we walked the long and winding road towards the exit, we experienced a kind of peace and tranquility that cannot be found anywhere else. It was as if GOD was with us.

Today, it reminds me that while in life there may be pain and suffering, there’s a lot of joy as well and there’s something waiting at the end of it. But before we get there, in the meantime, we have to make every day meaningful.

To these two women in my life, together we have come to realize our capacity to love as being able to allow, accept, share and appreciate each other for who we all are. What we do and what we have is called love because when we share unselfishly, together we belong, together we are part of something bigger than ourselves, and together we have the potential to blossom from strength to strength.

In the meantime, my first step to healing and recovery is to admit the truth about my painful journey. The sooner I face the truth, the easier it is for all to understand. At the heart of living my best life for whatever that remains, is to free those that I truly love from the burden of my sufferings. If I am not committed to facing reality, how can I build self-efficacy with the confidence to prevail? Like I said before - To love another truly and completely, demands beliefs – that of ourselves and that of our future – with this in mind, I know that I am perched on a solid foundation where I am best placed to inspire courage.

Banana Republic Of The Holy Ghosts

2008-06-26T00:50:00.003+08:00

I’m aware – and flattered – that I’m gossiped about. Gossip is telling “made up” or partial truths about someone else, to further one’s own purpose. I suppose people who engage in conjecture, assumption and mind reading with the intent of entertaining themselves; have their own higher purpose. Perception is everything in gossips, therefore whether the subjects leveled against any particular individuals are true or not, those who thirst at the opportunity for a place in a network and in the union of the ‘holy ghosts’, will always take the side of the story that favors their own line of thinking. In a ‘I scratch your back, you scratch my back’ world, any form of alliance is an opportunity. As long as each has a place in the universe where they are their own brightest sun, they don’t have to be friends, relatives or sisters. Usually, they can just push their way through with people. They are all in the same league; a pushy, contemptuous and egotistical women with an exaggerated sense of dignity

It’s all just human stuff. I can’t help it when people often mistake those who are confident about their capability or who are relaxed about looking good as being loud, proud or an attention seeker. On the contrary, it’s always the self-conscious, weak, insecure egotistical monkeys that personalize and focus mainly on themselves.

I am not challenging morality, provoking dissent and disrespect, or encouraging over indulgence. All I’ve been trying to say was – “if you can’t co-exist among us for the greater good of all, how the FUCK is that my problem?”

I know for a fact that it upsets certain species of monkeys that I’m candid. Throughout human history, you see that the worst problems for people almost always come from other people, and it’s the same for monkeys. You can put them anywhere in the world – USA, Afghanistan, Iraq, Westport, Longhill, Teluk Saga or Planet Of the Apes for that matter, but when small monkeys try to project big image, one can’t help but to observe their typical intense devotion or an overzealous ambition to become KING KONG. Among them, we will notice there is always that same old frantic ambition to pull, minute by minute, every available string with a patronizing superiority to prove their worth, only to draw the attention of crowds who in the end mattered least.

When we accept ourselves, we’ve nothing to prove. There’s no need to conform, compete or claim for superiority. Self-confident people express themselves clearly and live to experience life fully. Ziehan and I have happily given up our prohibitions because being authentic is important to us. This is what operating from abundance actually means. Tapped into a force greater than ourselves, we work for the benefit of all. What we do goes beyond seeking personal glorification.

Today however, I woke up feeling the need to spin something noteworthy for the good of all to judge, to bring to the surface and lay bare for all and sundry to feast their eyes on, to be the one instead with that frantic ambition to pull, minute by minute, every available string with a patronizing attitude to prove my worth. After all, I did promise a certain individual a cost free advertisement in my space – REMEMBER?

For a start, let’s discuss those ‘damned fucking pigs shisha friends’ that you were so incensed at. Through these ‘pigs’, you planted the seed of doubt by accusing others of playing a prominent role in your burning household. Now, if these ‘pigs’ became ‘pigs’ for a reason only you knew best, my question is – how different a ‘PIG’ are you for your prominent role in a family crisis that’s never yours to be involved in?

Now that you have my attention, please do not flatter yourself. Your attempt to project yourself as the leading light of your Klaz generation is but a hollow boast. You think of yourself as a genuine article, a monumental figure, in the mould of a charismatic woman. But the self-seeking publicity that you constantly sought in Klaz made it patently obvious that you have a ‘genetic character disorder’ with an oversize ego that looks at others in a very narrow form. Much too often, you question the probity of many good people around you with a hope to leave them blemish.

In one of your vitriolic outburst against those ‘damned fucking pigs shisha friends’, I remember you wrote “Ishh..ishh..ishh!! korang semua ada maen peranan lah babe!” - This is just one fine example of your ‘genetic character disorder.’ You should have sought counsel with some of the ‘holy ghosts’ from your ‘Banana Republic’ whose monologue more often was like a press conference that extolled your group’s efforts to create a morally upright and virtuous Republic. As sure as I am now that you are no different a ‘PIG’ than those that you cursed and swore, lest you forget – “ENGKAU PUN ADA MAIN PERANAN LA BEB!!!”

"Where There's A WILL, There's A WON'T" Part 3

2008-02-20T03:03:00.011+08:00

And His Story Continues .....

I learned that everyone has a story to tell - of dreams and nightmares, hope and heartache, love and loss, courage and fear, sacrifice and selfishness. I learned a lot from the stories my mum, dad, and grandparents told me: that no one is perfect but most people are good; that people can't be judged only by their worst or weakest moments; that harsh judgments can make hypocrites of us all; that a lot of life is just showing up and hanging on; that laughter is often the best, and sometimes the only response to pain. I have been graced beyond measure by all the good things in life that GOD had provided me with during my childhood. Like every other child, mine is not perfect, but it has been wonderful.

Those years in high school were an important time for me, as indeed they were for all of us who had taken such a risk by going to a school where a teacher literally demonstrated Newton's Law of gravity in practical. The late Miss Lau didn't survive her vertical challenge; an uprooted woman, she found earth that was natural to her. With her suicide, she took root in it forever.

In school, I always tried to keep things moving in the right direction, to give fellow students a chance to live their dreams, to lift their spirits, and to bring them together. I was a precocious but a naughty little one, always good at my studies but not as brilliant as the school's "Einsteins" in Sec.4A. I was not very studious; but almost always clever enough to fool the smart ones. Those who are familiar with Mark Twain's works will understand when I say that I was something of a Tom Sawyer, with the difference that I went to school happily at fifteen.

I had more than my fair share of energy, and it had to be expended somehow. It had to find outlets outside the school; burning it upside down was not a viable option. Of course, in those days there was no internet, which has turned many of today's boys into sex predators. I said earlier that I tried to keep things moving in the right direction, to give fellow students a chance to live their dreams, to lift their spirits, and bring them together - and so I became my own "Enterprise." My "Enterprise" indeed lifted their spirits, and brought people together; but whether or not it gave my fellow students a chance to live their dreams, the question was pretty much subjective. Unlike school's syllabus, my "Enterprise" has its own syllabus with an "angel in the centerfold." Porno didn't come easy back then; but I was indeed moving in the right direction with my colorful collections of adult library - "Color Scala," "Penthouse," "Playboy," "Hustler," "LOLITA," "Vivid," "Pornograffitti," "Hot Bod," "XxxTREME," - anything from dirty magazines to naughty paperback. I know that many would call it "sick" ...but I called it SEX. Whatever it was back then, I have many a happy friends. At fifteen, you could not have asked for better, with these books in hand and a little bit of imaginations, the rest of the sex were pretty much D.I.Y.

Talking about this, I remember an old Bras Basah with great affection, a place particularly popular with book hunters. Among the rows of pre-war shop houses, "Oriental Bookstore" stood to my fancy. Strange as it seemed, the joint was owned by one big hairy Gujarati. Mr. Jaswant was a very good man. I was to be the only boy in school uniform with the privilege of a back door access to his shop. I appreciated his kindness; but not without any worry. I was worried that there might be an unspoken treaty in his gesture of goodwill; like his back door for mine. As it turned out, Mr. Jaswant was a better man than I thought. And as it turned out, I was one lucky boy. "Porno Or Never, Porno Forever" was to be my slogan. At "Oriental Bookstore," the value of fair trade was not all about "centerfold." Mr. Jaswant also made it absolutely certain for the good of his business that all tradable materials must be free from 'accidental ejaculation.'

If from all this, you have concluded that I was not intensely focused on my studies, you would not be far from wrong. There were moments when my education was resting on the brink of terrifying possibilities. School was such a chore and I had too many flaws that made it increasingly improbable that even a convincing grade could do much more than prolong what was becoming an agony. In Secondary three, I was fast becoming a mediocre student; and I was threatened with expulsion on more than one occasion. I was beginning to reconcile myself to retiring from school as a failure. Salvation was nowhere within sight; my education was in a state of inertia, and the malaise that was afflicting this student was pushing me deeper into the pitfall of juvenile delinquency.

Hope was a daunting task; but I was ready to resurrect myself as I looked for the result that could ease the pressure on my beleaguered past. I was merely a young boy with a ravenous appetite to get on with life. On a whim, I briefly put aside my preference for education just to sample every particles of dirt on the earth that I walked on. I confused some of the luminous moments of my childhood with that of a grand plan of my future. The brutal truth was that, with ever diminishing success, I appeared to have been attempting to impose my own increasingly bizarre version of reality. By the third quarter of 1977, I started re-strategizing my priorities. It was the most mundane solution to a developing crisis but at least I was beginning to see the difference between 'Grand Plan' and 'Egotistical Fragments.'

To Be Continued ....

"Where There's A WILL, There's A WONT" Part 2

2008-02-18T01:38:00.005+08:00

As the story unfolds, "Where there's a WILL, there's a WON'T" will attempt to open the window of my past and my role in shaping it. I have lived a passionate life, perhaps an impetuous one in my early years, but always I have focused on my past, the present, and its future. I don't quite care if I am chastised for being too forthright and candid. We are who we are and one of the quality that reflects a person, it's honesty. Here, I do not shy away from sensitive issues, but when I choose to, it is circumscribe only by certain dictates of personal privacy.

And His Story Continues...

In primary school, I had no trouble doing well. Probably because my fellow students were poor and they were not very bright and advantaged. I had no trouble staying ahead of the class, so I did not try at all. And I don't remember having to burn a midnight oil to stay among the top ten in class. There was no haste to grow up. My world revolved in a gentle spin. I wasn't at all sure that I could analyze life and society in a comprehensive way. I did not believe in life's science at all. Of course I am aware of GOD and HIS existence; but at seven, I was more than ready to worship anyone that can pull a rabbit out of a hat, or make an elephant disappears, or escapes a death defying stunt, or anything at all as long as it is magic. Talking about magic, I detested those whose interest in it was to expose the trick in the magic. At the heart of the question was, what makes a good magic? When I was a kid, I made many friends with a trick or two. To date, I lost one friend and few relatives that ain't mine by making them disappear. A score that I am in no hurry to rectify... So Help Me GOD.

Once in a long while in the history of people there come a moment of great change. Secondary education brought a whole new set of experiences and challenges, as I learned more about my mind, my body, my spirit, and my little world. I liked most what I learned about myself but not all of it. And some of what came into my head scared the living hell out of me, including a conspiracy to poison a family member, the first stirrings of sexual feelings toward girls, and doubts about my religious faiths.

I was supposed to be "Born Free" - remeber; but I surrendered my liberty to education as early as 1969. My parents traded me to a system governed by the Education Ministry; but controlled by "Slave Masters." In the current world, most called themselves "Teachers." Imagine six years in primary school and then followed by another four years in a higher institution, and then when you have a tertiary to pursue after that, it looked as if it was going to be a lifetime project. It was indeed like a life sentence. I believed that so long as we had equal opportunities, each must be given a free play of his own life. So I gave my parents that opportunity by making them pay for my education; but they didn’t give me my own free play as I had wished for. You see, like all good parents, mine believed in good education. But my question was: Why pay for mine when they should get their own?

I didn't really have any girlfriend when I was in school. There were girls I thought were cute, but then anything that came in school uniform looked like an android to me. The good ones were those that were nice to look at; but it was always the bad ones that were nice to play with. I was too embarrassed as a kid - I don’t know why - it was just crazy. I adored one girl though. This one is no ordinary android to me; she was 'one nice little thing with two big ones.' I always felt secured when she put an arm around my shoulder or patted my head. I knew then that she had a thing for me; but almost always she also wanted to know if I have a brother. Kak Malia was three years my senior. Our age difference might have made her a bridge too far for me, but my hormones were ever so ready to cross her anytime.

My first real date was with an android named Annie. She was half a Chinese with a Eurasian blend. I was in my final year when we met at a rifle range behind the school canteen. We exchanged phone numbers and called each other very often. I talked to her for hours: from home, from KL, from anywhere under the sun for as long as there were ten cents coins in my pocket. On our first date we watched "GREASE" at Orchard cinema, where it is now known as Orchard Cineleisure. She held my hand for the first time that afternoon in the midst of the movie. I was seated by the aisle when all of a sudden I felt this soft hand reached over and grabbed mine. This probably wouldn't mean a lot to other people, but it was serious stuff to me. She touched me. That was how I felt about it. In the past, girls had always touched me in a certain manner, like putting an arm around my shoulder, like patting my head...basically like what Kak Malia would do. But this was different, this was one-on-one, and that was always the best. Unlike Kak Malia, Annie didn't concern herself with whether or not I have a brother. So I didn't care much if she has any. For few months, Annie and I were to share our secrets. There was a dark place below the stage in the assembly hall where our secrets were best kept. This dark place where our secrets were kept also provided us with our very own playground, a haven, a retreat, from the rest of the world.

The question of secrets is one I've thought about a lot over the years. I had real secrets of my own, rooted in my spiritual convictions. We all have them and I think we're entitled to them. They make our lives more interesting, and when we decide to share them with whom that we trust, our relationship become more meaningful. Of course, I didn't begin to understand all this back when I became a secret keeper. I didn't even give it much thought then. I was always reluctant to discuss with anyone the most difficult parts of my personal life, including a major hormonal crisis I had at the age of fifteen, when my faith was too weak to resist a certain temptation of sex. Still, secrets can be an awful burden to bear, especially if some sense of shame or regret is attached to them. Or the allure of our secrets can be too strong, strong enough to make us feel we can't live without them, that we wouldn't even be who we are without them.

To Be Continued...

"Where There's a WILL, There's A WON'T" Part 1

2008-02-14T04:05:00.009+08:00

I've always wanted to be able to tell stories, you know, stories that came from my soul. I'd like to sit within the confine of my comfort and tell people stories - make them see pictures, make them cry and laugh, take them anywhere emotionally with something as deceptively simple as words. I'd like to tell tales to move their souls and transform them. I've always wanted to be able to do that. Imagine how the great writers must have felt, knowing they have that power. Imagine what its like to be Mark Twain, Shakespeare, Stephen King or Me for that matter. I sometimes feel I could do it. It's something I'd like to develop. In a way, blogging uses the same skills, creates the emotional highs and lows, but the story is a sketch. I'd like to grip my listeners, get a group of people together and amuse them. No costumes, no makeup, no nothing, just you and your voice, and your powerful ability to take them anywhere, to transform their lives, if only for minutes.

So what can one say about this person? To many people I seem an elusive personality, but to those who know me, only they know that I am not. Well I may not be the world's most acclaimed entertainer, but I am very blessed with the ability to defy gravity as far as making opinions and statements count.

My public is perhaps unaware of the extent of my dedication to my craft. Restless, seldom satisfied, I am constantly challenging myself. Of course I spare myself the rod - but who wouldn't? Unless there is a demand for me to provide a startling glimpse of this artist at work and the artist in reflection, do not put yourself on my collision course. There is a gulf of difference between challenging myself to the limit against those with basic uncivilized problem whose attitudes have become quite unjustifiably negative. Whilst I spare myself the rod, you only have your wounds to lick.

As I begin to tell my story, I want to repeat what I usually say to people who remember the boy I was then. "I was so little and I really don't remember much about it." But here's what I remember. I remember my childhood as mostly "all play and no work." I wasn't forced into this misspent youth by tyrannical parenting. I did it because I enjoyed it. I did it because I was such a natural. I did it because I was "Born Free" - I think?? I was who I was because I was compelled by my own inner life in my own world of mischief.

A part of my earliest memory, there were times, when I'd come home from school and I'd only have time to put my books down and get ready for my daily routine. It's all about hard work, energy, commitment, conviction, determination… I had to earn it you know. It wasn't that easy, but at twelve years of age, I was already acknowledged as the most menacing son of a gun in the valley.

There was an enclave about two miles away from the family bungalow, and I can remember looking at those "kampong kids" playing hide and seek. I did not feel particularly brave with their kind of adventure. Because when these boys hide, BOY - they can really hide... matter of fact, some are still missing till now. I'd just stare at them in wonder - I couldn’t imagine such freedom, such carefree life - and wish more than anything that I had that kind of freedom, that I could walk away from the torture of education and be like them.

Our family's house was a post-colonial bungalow. It wasn't that big, but at the time it seemed much larger to me. When you're that young, the whole world seems so huge that a little room can seem four times its size. When I went back years later, I was surprised at how small the house was. I had remembered it as being large, but you could take probably fifteen steps from the front door and you'd be out at the back. It was really not that big, but when we lived there it seemed fine to us kids. We see things from such a different perspective when we're young.

My parents were a great provider. If they found out that one of the children had an interest in something, they would encourage it with every possible means. If I developed an interest in writing, for instance, my mum would come home with a nice fountain pen. I once developed an interest in cars, and I got myself a whole range of matchbox collectables. And then I developed an interest in soccer, and my mum bought me a top of the counter soccer boots. It was only when I developed an interest in guns, my parents realized enough was enough.

Even with six children they treated each of us like an only child. There isn't one of us today who's ever forgotten what a great mother my mum was. We may have lost her, but her children never lost that feeling. Because of her gentleness, warmth, and attention, I can't imagine what it must be like to grow up without a mother's love. We never had to look for anyone else with my mother around. The lessons she taught us were invaluable.

And then at twenty-two, I was to become a successful executive in a multi-national oil trading company. Success definitely brings on loneliness. It's true. People think you're lucky. Like you're born with your bread and butter serves in a silver spoon. They think I can go anywhere with my money and do anyone with my look, but that's not the point. One hungers for basic stuff. I was hungry beyond basic actually. I've learned to negotiate that curve better now and I don't get half as depressed as I used to.

Green was not so much my favorite color then. But when I got my first "American Express" at barely twenty years of age, green became better than good. It got so good that spending became fun. Signing was indeed fun; it was almost like leaving my autograph at every major shopping outlet in the city. The fun had to stop somewhere - normally it's at the end of the month. Till now, I've never trusted an advertisement that reminds me "DON'T LEAVE HOME WITHOUT IT." With this in mind, I'd reckon that if there is anything that you should not leave home without, your damage would be lesser with a condom in your pocket than a credit card in your wallet.

To Be Continued....

"SLIPPERY WHEN WET"

2008-02-12T20:59:00.001+08:00

I've been on my feet a lot in dealing with stresses that's not mine in ownership. You know how you have those weeks or months or maybe years that just seem to be loaded with problems that ain't yours in the first place. And I am not talking about a friendly alien that wants to know what this planet is all about - NO, I am talking about someone who wants to launch a full-scale assault, but only in public places; someone whose command of expletive exemplifies all of her sick values. Yes, I am talking about someone with enough propriety of manner to discuss about VAGINA in public; not hers of course, but that which belongs to a particular "BITCH" and "WHORE" whom she repeatedly threatened to shame. On planet earth, she must have been the only pussy with BALLS! Oh Gosh...this is so SUMBANG SEY!!!

Let me be quite clear about this. I am not arguing that skepticism is fundamentally harmful. Of course you can have your doubt, but when a certain conduct or attitude pushes me to the brink of being jettisoned from my focal point in life, it would be disastrous if I simply allow your fractured opinions to become widely accepted as part of 'conventional wisdom'. Reason is the highest faculty possessed by human beings, and every moment of our lives demands a fair assessment of probabilities. Our lives depend upon this assessment every time we cross an issue. Whether or not you get to debate an issue, you have first to stop judging like you are some kind of a super-intellect who has discovered the secret of eternal truth. Half my readers find this attitude of constant hostility rather cloying, if not laughable.

The truth is that the expansion of intelligence depends on asking question. But when one is confronted with destructive critics, with no intelligence of its own to offer, you left many to be suspicious of your motives. You see - a pig learns nothing because it cannot ask question; the pig's world is exactly what it looks like to the pig, nothing more and nothing less, and there is nothing to ask question about. Most pigs are just happy to live as pig and die as sausage. Some that could talk are making it big in Hollywood. Yet we do not hear Miss Piggy talk about VAGINA - do we? Not hers and not that of others. I guess that's the reason why "The Muppet Show" was not rated PG.

The world 'out there' is a rather ordinary place if we allow ourselves to discount our blessings, and fall into a narrow and joyless state of mind. All this explains, of course, why some people spend so much of their time seeking out a pathetic and misguided course to hurl themselves into a bottomless pit of vicious hatred that in the end loses all sense of purpose.

Zie Jazz, Mary Jazz and I, we can do without distraction. With every glimpse of reality, every moment of vision, every vision of hope, our marriage was designed to give us leisure and freedom to live our loves. No longer do we care now about the anxiety-ridden shortsightedness opinions; and we have long ceased wasting our days concentrating obsessively on minor trivialities that only appear totally unimportant as far as our future is concerned. I figured that the only way to regain our birthright of leisure and freedom is to persuade our mind with beliefs that we could rise up to a far higher level of purpose in our lives; and then draw up battle plans against those with the illusion that they could be able to exert their power and authority over us.

In here where the basic rule is 'Nobody gets anything for nothing', you will find that your world will turn into a hard and ruthless and rather nasty place to dwell in. Here, if you insist on playing with 'my VAGINA', you will have to do so at your own peril - it can get "slippery when wet" you know. I’ve been losing my virginity to the same VAGINA for many years now. They happen to be two good ones. If nothing thrills yours, it is not our fucking problem, IS IT? Just don't get careless, because if you happen to trip into any one of my VAGINA, you will only come out of here with your pussy smelling like ASSHOLE - You Just Never Know.

If at any time anyone feels that this entry needs any justification, it is that it is a modest attempt to introduce to all my readers a few glimpses of the strangeness that lies on both sides of my brain. Today, my left side of the brain simply deals with logic and language. Trust me...you do not want to stimulate the right side - You Just Never Know.

Jazz An Analogy: Optimist Versus Pessimist

2008-02-05T04:10:00.000+08:00

When I was younger, the difference between an "optimist" and a "pessimist" was explained to me with an analogy. "An optimist will say a glass is half-full, but a pessimist will say that it's half-empty." As I tried to determine these differences, it made me want to discover the delicate balance between an optimist and a pessimist.

Yesterday, I tried to force the whole issue into perspective. I poured myself half a glass of Coke. It was supposed to be a device to explore the depth of my personality right into the obscure recesses of my brain. It didn't work. The glass was neither half-full nor half-empty. By the time it got complicated, I drank all. Of course I care to find out, but it was hardly worth the bother.

It is not that I did not know how to decipher the differences. The answer is readily apparent. Our personalities - I hesitate to add our intelligence - are the products of our characters. The underlying emotions that motivated the differences between an optimist and a pessimist are fear and hope, which in turn support their own views of life. Pessimists often hope for their own good and tend to fear for the "better" that they could not have. Optimists share the same emotions too, but they function in a very different manner. Optimists hope - they hope long and they hope hard, and when there is fear, they only fear that if they don't hope, then what they desire won't materialize. Optimists believe in hope and joy. That if you wish hard enough for something, and put some beliefs into it - what can happen, will happen. They are always convinced that there's a silver lining in every cloud, and that when you stumble into the trench of life, a higher ground beckons somewhere (A pessimist will tell you that it's quite possible to start digging.). Never ever hope for help from a pessimist. Pessimists often have low self-esteem; they will tear you down instead of pulling you up.

I had a friend once before who actually made me more of an optimist because she herself was so incredibly pessimistic. She had a cynical quip for every situation, a way to depress everyone around her, and a complete knack for finding the bad in everything that was good. It wasn't at all that she didn't care about other people, or that she thought she was better than them, but she'd been intimately living with that crushing loss of hope so often in her life that she misplaced her belief in her own "purple patch." Being around me drove her nuts. No matter how the ground beneath me shook, I kept a pretty good balance between hope and reality. Hence I felt that I needed to be a counter to her cynicism. We were like little shoulder angels with our friends; one pointing out the possibility of failure while the other extorted the possibility of success (I am the latter of course).

I am well aware that there are differing viewpoints on how to get what you want out of life. Pessimists and optimists approach life from very different ideals, but both are motivated by the same emotions of hope and fear; and these emotions are absolutely essential to all human beings but are even more important to optimists and pessimists.

This is my own personal finding about the making of optimists and pessimists. I believe it provides an answer provisional and incomplete, to the question: how do they come to be? For all the wisdom that it may imparts, you will find, here and there, words whose meaning are clear enough. But some of the syntax goes beyond a half-full or half-empty glass of water, it is vastly more complex, more subtle and nuance, than that your mind can process. Here are some of the examples that can best illustrate all the differences between an optimist and a pessimist. So Catch Me If You Can...

1 - If you choose to believe that "half a loaf is better than none", you are a pessimist. I would say that "ONE LOAF IS ALWAYS BETTER THAN HALF." - because I am an optimist.

2 - I am happily married to HOPE - I am an optimist. And then I fell in love and married CHANCE - I am an opportunist. If by choice I married CHANCE without securing HOPE, I would be a bigamist. But with the CHANCE that I took and the HOPE that I have, we all live happily ever after - I am a PERFECTIONIST.

3 - Someone you love was diagnosed with a hole in her heart. You see nothing of your future but a broken dream - you are a pessimist. I wouldn't hesitate to put another seventeen holes in her heart just so that you could have an eighteen holes golf course in your household - because I am an optimist.

4 - You believe in reincarnation because you think like monkey - you are a pessimist. And then you disintegrated yourself from all your friends and made an ally with a family that you know not - you are an optimist. You played your role with mischief in mind by fanning the flame of hatred - you are a protagonist. And when you try to articulate all of your religious virtues as if the TALEBAN is in town - you are an extremist. And you still think like monkey - you are a "Gorilla In The Mist."

5 - You have two horses in your stable with a future to breed - you are an optimist. But when they produce you no offspring, you traded the two horses in your stable for some donkeys in your life - you are a pessimist. And you also want to be the jackass in your household - you are an optimist. Only to realize later that the two horses that you traded for those donkeys are both male - you are STUPID.

6 - Suddenly you are suffocating because the world is not big enough for the two of us - you are a pessimist. And then you tried to fix the world with your fractured vocabulary - you are an optimist. Through an eye of a needle, the whole world is your big problems; and the world according to your eyes is all about your virtues and none of your shortcomings - you need an optometrist.

7 - Your bank account has zero balance and you think that the world is crashing on you - you are a pessimist. Then you took a bank loan - you are an optimist. When the bank chased you for repayment, you took out a second bank loan to service the first loan - you are definitely an optimist. Busted by the mounting debts, you secured a third loan to cover the second loan - you are an ECONOMIST.

To learn from these alone is to run the risk of an error. As the vocabulary and grammatical rules of human behavior diverge from one another in ways large and small, so too are my analogies. Having said that, do not attempt to remove your brain. This is not an instructional manual for making human. I think I have said this once before "Nobody can change a pig into a butterfly. If you're a pig, you're a pig - and that's that."

OOPS!! Before I forget...

8 - You had a marital miscarriage and suddenly no man is good enough for you - you are a pessimist. A decrepit soul, you are happy though - you are an optimist. Through your own looking glass, you are you own beautiful people - you are a narcissist. Only to realize that you do not have a bird in hand nor two in your bush - you are an OLD MAID.

LOVE - The Sound Of Silence

2008-01-28T05:32:00.000+08:00

As common as the phrase "love" is in our culture, love is not always an easy thing to feel. Why? Because loving people requires setting self aside momentarily and focusing our devotion, attention, and affection upon someone other than ourselves. Love is, above all things, unselfish. And most of us are more self-centered than we care to admit.

Still, it is relatively easy to feel love compared to how difficult it is for many to express theirs. I always believe that love is rooted in giving, and giving is most fulfilling if that which one gives is received. Does the possibility that we might not receive what we desire to give, makes us vulnerable? Of course vulnerability carries with it the possibility of rejection, and in that, embarrassment and an emotional sting. For many people, love goes unexpressed because love carries this risk. These people rarely know great moments of joy, because they fear the possibility of pain.

Way back in 2004, I had the pleasure of discussing this topic with one Zizi Ezlina. This evening, I made a fortunate discovery by accident - an archive of our MSN text conversation. My beautiful niece was barely 17 then, but she was already exhibiting all the distressing sign of growing up with a tremendous potential to mix up the meaning of love in its true essence.

Being acknowledged as her favorite uncle is very flattering indeed, but I do not take “me too” for an answer when I said "I love you." - Not from this 17 years old. Not from a girl that I pedaled to school when she was just 7. Not from my cherubic mascot. Then, ever so obliging, I would cycle her right through the school compound among her congregating friends - her assembly of lawful juveniles. Just like Erin now, Adek was flaunting me then. Of course Adek was flaunting me then all for a reason that she knew best, but Erin is flaunting me now all for a reason that I know best. I am Erin's complete package - a papa, a movie star and a celebrity. What's fine by Erin is fine by me; howsoever her friends chose to repackage me.

Surely "LOVE" is an easy word to spell. What had me worried then was her obstinately unyielding perception against expressing her feelings, love, devotion, or affection. I realized what an incomplete view she has of the word. The archive chronicled an hour-long session that tested our will in the battle of persistence. Obviously, her keyboard was deficient of all the necessary consonants and vowels to spell "I love you too."

I happen to come from a family bloodline that does not yield easily. My problem was, she too came from the same bloodline. I refused to let her set the rules and limits. She refused to allow me to dictate the pace of the play and govern the match. Finally at 1.15am, the tilt of the game changed. I realized one thing - she has what I don't, and I have what she doesn't. She has to sleep, she has to go to school, she has homework to do, she has test to take, she has exams to prepare for, and SHE HAS TO LOG OUT sooner or later. I on the other hand, I have what she doesn't - I have all the time in the world than all the clocks put together.

When she tried hard to wrench herself forcibly away from the topic and every step vanquished her effort, she at last relented with "I love you too Uncle." Equivocally or unequivocally expressed, coming from this Little Miss Muffet, it was worth the weight in gold.

I simply refuse to allow her to grow up to be a miserable person. I will not accept whining or any whimper of despairing hopelessness. I won't listen to any mournful sound of a leaking vascular. I just want to see a happy face, and more importantly, a happy woman above all else. At 20, she is now able to express love freely in the language that I can understand. And the good news for me is that there is no more rewarding enterprise on the face of this earth than to love and be loved by this child.

If I can leave behind a legacy to remember me by, I just want to remind all in my family to 'always' give unselfishly. Don't ever confuse the feeling of love with the fact of love. As a matter of fact, love is more than a feeling. And the fact is, many a time, love runs deeper than words. So I say, "let's love each and love all." But if we don'’t have love that runs deeper than words, don't let our word runs faster than love. Stop the unnecessary gossips. Gossips can hurt feelings.

As for all the nieces in my family, my edict remains never to be tampered with. That - All women in the family, after my generation, shall remain the sole and good keeper of their own chastity. Within the bounds of safe sex and morality, chastity must be seen to be protected until the age of puberty or menopause; whichever is later. The word puberty herein implies an age of 30 years or after, and chastity herein refers to virginity. You shall not, willfully or otherwise compromise your chastity or break your virginity before the stipulated age - NOT EVEN IN INSTALMENT!

"Virginity is like a bubble; one PRICK all gone" – Confucius

Your virginity can only be broken once. Just don't go breaking one at will, or one too soon. And if you have to protect it, please don't protect it forever. I don't want to see an OLD MAID in the family. Trust me, I've seen it all, I've heard it all...I just don't want to imagine at all.

Jazz A Simple Guide To Survival - SNAKE ATTACK!

2008-01-25T04:14:00.000+08:00

Because poisonous snakes can be difficult to identify and because some non-poisonous snakes have markings very similar to venomous ones, the best way to avoid getting bitten is to leave all snakes alone. Assume that a snake is venomous unless you know for certain that it is not.

Snakes come in different forms of sizes. There are some historical reports of early European explorers of the South American jungles seeing giant anacondas up to 100 feet long. Like pythons, anacondas are members of the boa constrictor family of snakes. They are fully capable of killing a grown person, and children are even more vulnerable to attack. The good news is that most pythons will strike and then try to get away, rather than consume a full-grown human. Somehow, they are aware that some fights can be too big to swallow. The venomous king cobras, rattlesnakes, sidewinders and coral snakes come in smaller sizes. Do not confuse snakes with worms. Worms are harmless creature. And do not confuse worms with maggots. Maggots are a white semi circular crawly creature with a talent of repulsing everyone. It feeds on manure and decaying food. The edible version is called Macaroni.

How To Treat A Bite

1 - Wash the bite area with soap and water as soon as you can. Snakes are known to have bad oral hygiene - be they poisonous or not. They curse and swear a lot, and they talk and think ills of others all the time. In an emergency situation, if you do not have the time to rush yourself to seek medical attention, rush the snake to the dentist instead.

2 - Immobilize the bitten area and keep your anger close to your heart. This will slow the flow of the venom. Snakes are vicious reptile. What they can’t do to kill, they will threaten to shame. Never fear, just exercise enough discretion to refrain yourself from retaliation. Snakes have the natural tendency to self-destruct. One of the most venomous species is known to expose its own weaknesses, shames and shortcomings when it is vulnerable.

3 - Get medical help as soon as possible. A doctor should treat all snakebites unless you are willing to bet your life that the offending snake is non-poisonous. A bite from any type of poisonous snake should always be considered a medical emergency. Even bites from non-poisonous snakes should be taken seriously, as neurotoxin venom from bad oral hygiene can affect the brain, causing stupidity.

4 - If you have a first aid kit equipped with a suction device and a compendium set with a "snake and ladder" board, follow the instructions for helping to draw the venom out of the wound without making an incision. Generally, you will need to place the rubber suction over the wound, roll your dice, and then WHACK the snake with the first aid box. Stay calm and stay happy, because "what does not kill wouldn't hurt."

What Not To Do

1 - Do not attempt to suck out the venom. You do not want it in your mouth, where it might enter your bloodstream.

2 - Do not attempt to charm a snake. Snakes have its own snake charmer. It operates in communities that dance only to its own tune. Some species have a tremendous sense of hearing. It can respond to a single bugle boy all the way from Singapore, Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, India, USA, East Of Paris and probably all other unchartered plains and terrains on earth.

3 - Do not enter into a habitat known to belong to snakes. Just like sharks, snakes are territorial too. Avoid any "CONCRETE CUBICLE."

4 - Do not run to your mother. When bitten, the neurotoxin venom can be very infectious. She can get sick. You don’t want to get blame for that, do you?

How To Avoid An Attack

1 - Snakes are known to have a very raw nerve. When agitated, they will hit and strike, curse and swear, and much too often when push comes to shove, they can't take as much as they give. So when a snake bares its fang, DO NOT FEAR - just role a dice and WHACK it again with the first aid box.

2 - When hiking in an area with poisonous snakes, always wear thick leather boots, long pants and a BANDANA.

3 - Although snakes are cold-blooded and need sun to help regulate their body temperature, it is always safe to avoid a place where "The Sun Don't Shine, And The Rain Don't Stop." That's exactly what a snake's life is all about.

4 - Do not try to get a closer look at snakes. Snakes are just snakes, anything better, nicer or more beautiful to look at, they would be ME.

"Jazz A Simple Guide To Survival" will try to feature "How To Survive Adrift At Sea" in my forthcoming entry. The principals behind all these guides remain a simple one. You don't fucking have to if you don't fucking want to...but - YOU JUST NEVER KNOW!

In the words of John F Kennedy, I stand a true believer "Let every nation, whether it wishes us well or ill, we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, to assure the survival and success of liberty."

Jazz A Simple Guide To Survival - SHARK ATTACK

2008-01-23T02:57:00.000+08:00

Module 1 - How To Fend Off A SHARK

1 - Hit Back.
If a shark is coming toward you or attack you, use anything you have in your possession - a camera, harpoon gun, computer, keyboard or any measure of means and hit it at the areas most sensitive to pain,

2 - Make quick, sharp, repeated jabs at these areas.
Sharks are predators and will usually only follow through an attack if they have the advantage, so making the shark unsure of its advantage in any way possible will increase your chances of a good fight. Hitting back simply tells it that you are not defenseless.

Module 2 - How To Avoid An Attack

1 - Always stay in pair - sharks are more likely to attack an individual.

2 - Do not wander too far from shore. This isolates you and creates the additional danger of being too far from assistance. If you have to wander away from shore, don't forget to bring your camera. Sharks love to look at pictures. This might help or it might not.

3 -Avoid being in the water if you are bleeding from an open wound or if you are menstruating- a shark is drawn to blood and its olfactory ability is acute especially when it has an EGO that bleeds.

4 - Use extra caution when waters are murky and avoid showing any fear. Never surrender your liberty to shark and give it the sensory advantage.

5 - If a shark shows itself to you, it may be curious rather than predatory and will swim on. Depending on its species, some will leave you alone, but most will eat you alive. You have a good chance of defending yourself if the shark is not too large. However, do not be deceive by its sheer size and look. Shark can be nice too - but only the FINS.

6 - A shark attack is a potential danger for anyone who frequents marine waters, but it should be kept in perspective. In the United States the annual risk of death from lightning is thirty times greater than from a shark attack. In Singapore there are more sharks on land than there could ever be in sea. So let's forget about my chance of being struck by lightning.

Module 3 - Three Kinds Of Shark Attack

1 - "Hit And Run" attacks are by far the most common. These typically occur on land with an unlimited broadband access. The victim seldom sees its attacker, and the shark does not return after inflicting a single bite or slash wound.

2 - "Bump And Bite" attacks are characterized by the shark initially circling and often bumping the victim prior to the actual attack. These types of attacks usually involve innocent children, and also occur on land with an unlimited broadband access.

3 - "Sneak" attacks differ: the strike can occur without warning. Injuries sustained during this type of attacks are usually quite serious. Frequently resulting in severed limbs and RELATIONSHIP.

BE AWARE:

Most shark attacks occur in near shore waters typically on land. Sharks congregate in this area, because their natural preys are land mammals. Almost any large shark, roughly five or six feet in total length that walks on land, is a potential threat to humans. Sharks are only dangerous when they operate in groups and they are also known to be quite territorial. Never try to swim in a territory that belongs to any species of shark. It’s as if they own the world and rule the ocean.

Jazz A Simple Guide To Survival will feature "How To Survive A Poisonous Snake Attack" soon enough. Be prepared, we all make mistakes. Overcoming them is survival as well - You Just Never Know!

Jazz A Simple Guide To Survival...

2008-01-22T21:11:00.000+08:00

When a life is imperiled or a dire situation is at hand, safe alternative may not exist. To deal with some of the worst-case day-to-day scenarios, I highly recommend/insist, that the best course of action is to consult a professionally trained expert. Do not attempt to undertake any of the activities described from this guide yourself. But because highly trained professionals may not always be available when the safety of individuals is at risk, this guide describes the techniques you might employ in an emergency situation. Jollyjack.blogspot.com disclaim any liability from any injury that may result from the use, proper or improper, of the information contained in this guide. All the information in this guide comes directly from my own survival instinct, and I do not guarantee that the information contained herein is complete, safe, or accurate, nor should it be considered a substitute for your good judgment and common sense. Under no circumstances should you rely on your committee, relatives or any other noisy convention to stay alive. If you happen to lack the good judgment, common sense, intelligence or all the necessary ingredients to survive an ordeal, just don’t panic, be happy and hope to die.

Let’s just say that I’ve learned a few things about survival over the years. Whatever the situation, whether you’re in the mountains, on board a plane, or driving cross-country, to “survive” meaning “To outlive, to remain alive or in existence; live on. To continue to exist or live after.” After all, that’s what it’s really all about – about continuing to exist, no matter how dire the circumstances.

The principle behind this guide is a simple one: YOU JUST NEVER KNOW.

You can never really know what curves life will throw at you, what is lurking around the corner, what is hovering above, what is swimming beneath the surface and who to trust in your household. You never know when you might be called upon to perform an act of bravery and to choose life or death with your own actions.

But when you are called, I want to be sure that you know what to do. And that is why I write this guide. I want you to know what to do when you see that shark heading toward you. I want you to know what to do in this and other life threatening situations, from being forced to jump from a bridge to being forced to swallow your ego, from taking a punch correctly to outsmarting a charging bull terrier, and from escaping friends with bad mouth or relatives with bad breath.

Within this guide, you will find simple, step-by-step instructions. It also provides other essential tips and information that you must know. Any and each of them could save your life. So keep this guide handy at all times. It is informative and entertaining, but useful, too. Give a copy to your friends and loved ones. I’m sure you have lots of them. Just in case you don’t have any, don’t worry; don’t panic; be happy; because it’s not your loss.

Like a Boy Scout, I am always prepared. As for you; YOU JUST NEVER KNOW.

These survival guides will kick-off with How To Fend Off A Shark Attack in the next entry.

Floats Like A Buttterfly. Stings Like A Bee

2008-01-22T01:30:00.000+08:00

If you can’t grow up or grow old gracefully, you can have my cake and eat it. I will let you play what you want; perhaps even grant you the coronation that you so desire. Whatever arguments that are probably true and eminently sensible to the neutral is not always about reason. People with no more than a few years left of their lives have the right to get the best possible deal for themselves. After all, it’s not as if we were all raised as children of the lesser God.

The intensity and bitterness of any rivalry, more often than not comes with a price. As always as any case may be, who gets to speak what, is the price of ruptured ego. We all know that rivalry spiced by visceral loathing makes for great spectacles. That’s why boxing fans still talk about the fight between Marvin ‘Marvellous’ Hagler and Tommy ‘The Hitman’ Hearns, which took, place 22 years ago. These fighters were not playing. They really detested each other and entered the ring with an appetite for destruction that produced three thrilling rounds of unforgettable savagery. It wasn’t for the faint hearted but it was the stuff of competition. It’s the gripping entertainment that has foreign speculators desperate to lay eyes on top stories. Be they bloody or bloodless duel, the great attraction unites people from the various shores of the different continents.

I believe that good and upright character must be demonstrated. It has to be observed and articulated in a manner of conduct that commands respect. If we are what we speak, then Confucius must be right to insist that language must be properly used if things are to get done, if justice is not to go astray and if people are not to ‘stand about in helpless confusion”. He disapproved of those who misused words to hide their true intentions and actions.

To my mind, there are many challenges in life, but the one that stands out most is that of having to balance the need for change with that of continuity. I could try to change from being “me” to the person I am not, or I could continue to be the person that I am not. Hence my confusion… when I try to be the person I am not, or continue to be the person that I am not, I become “YOU”.

In recent times, it has become usual to try to place the blame for the disintegrating state of family turmoil on my doorstep. This is a misunderstanding of the first order. Naturally, when one is confronted with unsolicited opinions, it produces a strong reaction in the form of a desire to engage. I am not prepared to negotiate my way through and around these differences. The love for Ziehan is among my strongest motivations known to me and have been at the foreground or background of practically every conflict that has ever been waged. Quite simply, I happened to be an advocate of my own constitution that encapsulates my rights, hopes and aspiration in a way that no other could relate. So you can give me one reason or ten thousands of it, your problems with the world affairs should remain yours in entirety, and I am not the cause of societal dystrophy.

I may be your one reason, but there could also be more than one reason that are privy to these conflicts. There may be a friend with questionable interest, others with ulterior motives; all with a common interest to partake a passive or active role in your play. I don’t care about the swings of your pendulum, what seems to be a reality is that individuals end up worse off when they act out of self-interest.

I am not sure if there are many who are deeply troubled, or many who are elated at the state of this conflict. What I have tried to do today is disabuse you of the notion that there are any “quick fix” solutions. But if you look close enough, you will find there have been episodes of silence on my part that was not fairly reciprocated.

Today I assure you that I will not allow any form of assault to touch me unchallenged. I will do my best to guard both Ziehan and I against cynicism and hopelessness. And I know that Ziehan and I will both stay the course; because failure is not my option.

While My Heart Gently Weeps

2008-01-20T23:32:00.000+08:00

Yesterday on Asyura, the Tenth night of Muharram, as I gazed in awe at the spectacle and wonder of your nature, alone I drifted through the night. This night my breath moves in my body, whirling me to the winds. I can feel the swell of beauty, the rippling tides you sought in me, and through the gift of your greatness, you breathe life to my soul. Through you I have spoken to who I am. The weight of this life however, is fast becoming a test of my endurance. I can feel my urge to sink, the pull of my soul calling. My heart is heavy with it, gaping. Between now, tomorrow, and the pain ahead, I know that it is just your heart that beats within my chest. Not mine.

My vigils I have continued into the night, long after all have surrendered. . I am no rock, no stone, no blade. My will to live I have torn, and rivers of tears I have shed into the soft valleys of my battered body, but I am no fallen man. You have taught me this. You are teaching this now, even as I pursue the urge to die.

My head is constantly bowed in prayers. But how can I accept this burden of your trial and tribulation without breaching my faith by senseless betrayal. You spoke of redemption. There is a part of me, that doubts. Is there no end to this suffering? I have not the strength to bear the burden of your test. My own burden weighs heavy on my soul. It sinks me to my knees. I pray to your name, yet the heart of my body speaks only of despairing hopelessness.

In the earliest hours of many a night, I sat at your feet in total submission believing that none have showed greater devotion than I. But where are you? Were you ever there for me? Never could I have denied you my deepest surrender, my body, my blood, my most yielding, secret self. Could it be that I am a sin? For my very nature, shall I seek absolution? I know that I have sins; but in my heart of hearts, I hunger for your blessed hand upon my head and the grace of your breath upon my soul. I cannot deny that my love for you is beyond any, and my heart follows you to my death and beyond,

I am lost. You must forgive me if the pain of your test betrays my faith, you must forgive me for betraying my own heart. I longed to share with those that agonise the sacred knowledge that was revealed through my pain. Alas, when you speak through my eyes, they see none of your secret but my pain.

Yes, I am one of your children, the worshipper of your religion, your humble servant, a seeker and speaker of your truth and my own, but I am first just a man. One that is so mortal, one with hunger when hungry, one with thirst when thirsty, one with anger when angry; and surely you cannot let this man suffer in silent when his will to live is badly bruised.

Was my wanting you a sin? If you are here with me now, as you have always promised your servant you would, even in those moments when I am weary, weak and small, I speak this message into your ear, my head bowed in complete obedience against the hard deck of the floor, my prayer to you…reveal to me the immensity of your love, the limitlessness of your acceptance, fill me with your spirit, bless me with courage, give me pain or give me death, just walk me to a home close to you, and conclude the final chapter of my life with a journey to be remembered.

Scooby DO, Scooby DON'T

2008-01-15T04:52:00.000+08:00

Another month has gone by…7 to be exact. I was in hiatus – a time to cleanse and heal the body, mind and soul. A self-imposed exile, hitherto to put myself under restraint from all manner of conduct that can potentially ensue in confrontation. Amidst the chaos of our daily living, it’s good to take a moment to quiet our mind… for activity without thought can be chaos in itself. I wasn’t looking for the perfect opportunity to mend fences, build bridges, or both. I was merely doing my part; I was doing time for spiritual change. A time for connection…mostly with self and GOD.

I now realized with some pain of certainty that less is not necessarily more. Now I take my readers seriously enough to ask for their attention. If they are not careful, I will introduce them to the full measure of my means.

From here, let’s go to a place of open witnessing, no judgment… just observe and reflect. What is…just is. See what is there…are you troubled… do you feel anger, frustration, fear? Acknowledge your feelings. It’s all part of who you are. Give yourself permission to fully feel these feelings. It’s OK. Allow yourself a moment to tune in to your SELF. It’s OK. It’s all just human stuff.

Only when you avoid being honest with yourself, you inevitably cause more problems. You act out your anger, you lose energy to depression, you are edgy and unsettled. What rocks your boat? You might have a clue but can’t quite put your finger on it.

Just don’t you mind us. Ziehan and I, we are blessed in this land of plenty. We are constantly focused in our quest for our own answers as if we are looking at ourselves in the mirror. We see in that reflection all the things about us that we admire. We take our time. That’s right. Make a note of all the things that we’ve accomplished, the things we’ve sacrificed, and the challenges we’ve overcome. Only then we stand in awe of the reflection that is us. And that is how we live believing that we are beautiful people.

We start to live our best life when we pursue our happiness without fear and with lots of faiths. Happiness is, after all our birthright. Just this evening, I received the following sms from a very good friend. She said..

Hai, I asked God “How do I get the best out of life..?” God answered: “Face your past without regret. Handle your present with confidence. Prepare for the future without fear..” The He added: “Keep the faith and drop the fear. Don’t believe your doubts and never doubt your beliefs..Life is wonderful if you know how to live!”

What a pity it would be to starve our real self of the happiness it deserves. Think what a burden it would be to live acting a big part of your life ruled by indiscriminate and confused opinions.

Both Ziehan and I we are well placed to surge forward and succeed. We all live our best life when what we think, feel, speak and act is aligned and congruent. Another word that best describes this is “integrity.” How much integrity are you known for? What is it worth to you? Here are some checkpoints that could probably assist your quest for an answer.

1. Do you surround yourself with people who want to control, own or blame you?

2. When are you going to stop blaming your government, your mother, your sister, your boss, your ex-husband, your ex-wife, your friends, your fate, global warming, the cat next door, Mr. And Mrs. Smith.

3. Do you demand respect from others, rather than being focused on earning them.

4. Are you the kind that acts your role to your gallery solely for the end effect of your play.

5. Do you persuade yourself to do right to be right and be really sorry when you are wrong.

Understanding that a prerequisite for happiness is a certain level of control, just how much happiness do you have? If it’s worth that much to you, then go insure your No.1 asset. After all, in our best life, we are the product. Will you invest in yourself? I know I will because I HAVE.

Here, I would like to register my profound gratitude to the one woman that matters most.. the love light of my life, the apple of my eyes. For inspiring my return, for making this gallery playable, with love from me to you, I say THANK YOU.

DUMB-Be-YOU-Be-DUMB

2007-06-10T20:41:00.000+08:00

It is hard to imagine a more stupid or more dangerous way of making comments than by putting those comments in the hand of a person who pays no price for being wrong. You need only to reflect that one of the best ways to get yourself a reputation as an Idiot these days is to go about repeating the very phrases that your parents might have used in the struggle to raise you up.

Impudence does not spring merely from one bad quality, but from several – from foolish vanity, from ignorance of what is due to others, from stupidity, from contempt of others, and from jealousy. Talking about which, jealousy is often used as if it were synonymous with envy. It might well be in your case. Jealousy is predominantly a concern with the fear of loss of something one possesses, while envy with the wish to own something another possesses. They are both indeed a poor medium to secure honor, but it is a secure medium to destroy one’s self-respect. For jealous and envious people, like a bloody fools, they have the natural ability to stoop to the lowest level and in the end inspire only disgust and loathing.

Let me tell you the kind of writer I am. When I write, I take comprehensive views, hold large convictions, and make wide generalizations. To local standards of right and wrong, I concerned myself only with general expediency and I do not waste time focusing on your fixed moral principals that aren’t yet before the court of your own conscience. In this space, I am free of all doctrines, theories, etiquettes and sick politics – but that does not make me a snake worshipper. I own an ever-present consciousness that this is a world of fools and rogues, blind with stupidity, tormented with envy, consumed with vanity, jealousy, selfish, false, cruel, cursed with illusions, and frothing mad people. Happiness discloses itself to me as the end and purpose justifies, and my life and my loves are the only means to my happiness.

It remains my opinion that the phase that retards the growth of your intelligence may well be that in which you refuse to accept or to submit to anything that you do not or cannot rationally understand. It may indeed prove to be far the most difficult and not the least important task for you to reason rationally to comprehend the limitation of your own stupidity. Clearly, you lack the intelligence to comprehend my writing in here. But at half past six, I made more sense with my English than you could ever be a Malay at “quarter past three.” If I were you, I wouldn’t pride myself with being a “TIGA SUKU” – or Would You??

Ziehan and I, we are done pretending like we do not know who the fuck you are. No longer are we going to play ‘A PENIS For Your Thought’ or a penny for mine. Take your coupon for whatever it’s worth and enjoy your family circus elsewhere. In the meantime, send our warmest regards to all the relatives.

Dumb-Be-Do-Dumb-Be-Dumb,
Dumb-Be-Do-Be-Dumb,
You ain’t as smart as ‘Forest Gump’
Then DUMBER you become.

Dumb-Be-YOU-Dumb-Be-Dumb,
Dumb-Be-YOU-Be-Dumb,
I can’t change that what I can’t fix,
Coz I’m simply Half Past Six!!

DUMB-Be-Do-Be-DUMB

2007-06-07T15:38:00.000+08:00

I am very patient with stupidity but not with those who are proud of it. Of course everyone is entitled to be stupid, but some abuse the privilege. Strange as it seems, sometimes no amount of learning can cure stupidity, and higher education, more often than not, positively fortifies it.

Yesterday, I was so close into believing an Idiot who thinks that I have no balls. I literally had myself checked only to find that I have two good ones – one smaller than his head, the other bigger than his brain…PHEW!

Let us sample this Idiot’s stupidity and grant him or her that momentary fame that he or she richly deserves. In one of the comment, I was told, “only a coward hides behind his blog…because he has no balls to come face to face.”

Of course any fool can criticize, condemn, and complain – as I know most fools do. But when one comes into a blog that is solely mine in proprietorship, and then tags a comment behind an anonymous identity, there is no need to compare the size of our balls. Your comments came unsought; it also lacked propriety to justify your intrusion. So until such time you find for yourself bigger balls to play with, you are just a nameless man with gameless plan. Like I said before, I know that I have two good balls – one smaller than your head, the other bigger than your brain.

I also happen to know that your stupidity is no accident – it’s either congenital or probably hereditary. And I am beginning to wonder - If there are no stupid questions, then what kind of questions do stupid people ask? You don’t get smart just in time to ask question, do you? Surely you can understand my confusion. Other than knowing for a fact that you are really really stupid, I can’t possibly come face to face not knowing who the fuck you are – make sense to you? One man alone can be pretty dumb sometimes, but for a real bona-fide stupidity, there ain’t nothing I can do to beat you in that department.

I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and smack his head with my keyboard. It doesn’t require any particular bravery to fake a challenge like a boneless chicken. If you want to be a hero among men, go chase a rainbow and color it purple.

In the meantime, I will continue to do what I feel in my heart to be right. You can shame yourself in here if you want to. I will try to spare fool like you who hasn’t said enough, the last words. You’ll be damned if you do, I’ll be damned if you don’t. Sticks and stones may break my bone but words can’t hurt me. I will bleed this space with what I think because I am a WRITER, I will fight against any challenge because I am a FIGHTER and you should try to live happy to be a good LIVER. The next time, before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them, and you have their shoes. Thank you for sending me copies of your comment. I’ll waste no time reading it.

TAHLIL Untuk Si Tolol

2007-06-04T07:29:00.001+08:00

The wisest is she that knows only that she knows nothing. You should make your criticism public to Klaz as far as our recent majlis TAHLIL is concerned. I loathe coward. You tried to articulate your dakwah on our recent initiative; yet hiding behind the selected few that you sent your email to. I have always thought that ignorance is bliss; but I have found it advisable now to expose your moral impurity.

You are just an old fool troubled with morbid little ideas, isolated by your own choice and damned by your own follies. You assume that your religious faith and creed are founded only upon your reason, when they are actually made for they who believe, over which, you really have little knowledge. Hence my question is: where on earth did you get your education?

Perhaps your supercilious disgust with Klaz is a cover for a disgust with yourself; you have botched and bungled your life, and when misery seeks company, you choose your friends among those without providence and without the tongues to speak up against you. Where and when you fail to assert your insidious influence, you cast the blame upon the ‘environment’ or the ‘world’ or anyone that breathes happy. Clearly you have failed miserably with your sordid adventure to disintegrate Klaz.

I must admit though that I am flattered by the fact that you took initiative to respond to my entry ref: Klaz@Carousel. Whether or not you made sense, let us be the judge of it all. Let us for a moment assumes that you are stupid. Other than saying that you would deny me that happiness to be in your presence, you also wrote to remind me that there are lives after death. And in your own way, you brought a touch of class to stupidity when you rebuked me with your comment "Jangan main hembus ajer bila tulis tuu... Lebih baik kau cepat cepat memperbaiki akidah, jangan keliru dan songsang. Agaknya kawan-kawan kau yang lain lupa nak sampaikan pada kau eehh??!!"

As sure as I am that you are stupid; I am now convinced that you are also a bloody fool. Reference to my entry, did I not write “Life is something that everyone should try at least once in a lifetime. There is no life after death because we don’t believe in REINCARNATION. So why not have a life before death instead of trying for some time to develop a lifestyle that doesn’t require your presence.” There is a difference between reincarnation and resurrection you IDIOT! Supposed you were a ~~monkey~~ donkey in another life, your soul then return to live another life in a new body; your cyclical reappearance in a new form, in some system of belief, is known as reincarnation. As a practicing Muslim, were we not taught to believe in resurrection instead? Resurrection is not life after death. On the contrary, it is the Day of Judgment. On this day, when you are brought back to life, you don’t have a life to live MORON!! Because then, you don’t get to blog rubbish, you don’t get to interfere in other people’s lives, you don’t get to pick and choose your ‘committee’ and most of all, you don’t get to DISINTEGRATE anything. And when kingdom comes, you pay for the price of your sins. Most get to heaven, some burn in hell, but none gets to live again as donkey…GET IT!!!

So you said that you have made the right choice. And in your own words you wrote, “Let me remind you that my live does not evolved around Klaz78. Why? It bother you is it? That I have made more friends here? Than in Klaz78? Why don’t you just admit it! Your life is incomplete without me. I am not missing anything when I don’t integrate with you. Don’t you think we should be choosey whom we pick as friends? Trust me. I have made a right choice.”

Klaz 78 is a beautiful world, rain or shine, and there is more to life than to wonder about your process of evolution. I have strong reason to believe that whatever this choice may be, no one in Klaz actually gives a ~~fuck~~ DAMN!! Klaz 78 is a great community, and it wasn’t made so by the ills of your character. We all have a sacred duty to bequeath it to our future in better shape than however we found it. You should be more concerned with your character than those friends that you chose and picked, because your character is who you are, while your ‘committees’ are those friends who already knew what you really are.

I always make it my habit to choose my friends by their character and my socks by their colour. Choosing my socks by their character makes no sense, and choosing my friends by their color is unthinkable, unless she is a filthy purple. You can talk your talk or walk your walk, but I should like you to remember a fixed principle that shines through all the history of humanity. That mere bigness is not greatness; and there is no dignity, no nobleness in mere size. This being said, you might want to seek professional consultation to reduce the size of that head on your shoulder.

This is my space, this is my playground and you are damn right of my liberty to operate an opinion in here. You can trust me to reveal everything about you in installment. Just you beware the fury of a patient man or I will unleash myself from any form of restraint. Actions have consequences…first rule of life. And the second is this – you are the only one responsible for your own actions. Study the situation thoroughly, go over in your imagination the various courses of action possible to you and the ramifications that of which can and may follow from each course. Pick out the course that gives you the most satisfaction; and then I challenge you to test my resolve. This is my first installment and in here, I guarantee you free airtime.

More or Less a MOLEST!!

2007-05-16T08:12:00.000+08:00

I never realized that I have to labor long and hard for a loaf of bread. That was the idea after all when Mariam tried to motivate me out of melancholy - take a walk to the nearest deli by the neighborhood shopping center. When she ended up with a new pair of shoes on our journey for bread, I didn't feel particularly clever. She is a manic for shoes, nothing surreptitious about it. If reincarnation is to be believed, I am sure that Mariam has to be the only one on earth to be reincarnated from the soul of a living person - Imelda Marcos! At Charles And Keith, Mariam would have easily traded her soul for a sole.

About this neighborhood shopping center, it has got to be one of the great cultural plateaus of the world - one of the really urbane communities in the country - one of the truly cosmopolitan places and for many, many years, it always has had a warm welcome for human beings all over the world. It is probably the only city in the world where the natives are never more abroad than when they are at home.

This part of the neighborhood is littered with about five million Chinese workers, three million Bangladeshis, another three million from Myanmar and a combined total of approximately four million Filipinos, Indon and Sri Lankan maids. There was hardly enough room to navigate oneself out of the chaos on a Saturday night. I look back and see how hard they worked and how poor they were, and how desperately anxious they were to succeed, and all I can remember is how sick I am.

For me, there is only one route of escape from all these mad pilgrims. The trick is what one emphasizes. We either make ourselves miserable or we make ourselves strong. The amount of energy is the same. On that insane night, I was actually prepared to share my loaf of bread with all the 15 million foreign agents that represent our labour industries.

Shopping is never the longest lasting love affair of my life; and my issue last Saturday night was more than just having to co-exist. Having to co-exist is one thing but being molested made me feel so dirty. By reason of my clear eyes and unjaded heart, I only live by the two women in my life in what I feel is the life blood of my heart and the heart beat of my life. When my modesty was compromised by a woman that I know not, I felt like a whore.

At Charles And Keith, Mariam made herself the official tester of all the shoes that come in her size. Although my heart has reasons that reason does not understand, what my world really needs is more love and less shoes. Hands on hip, I stood there watching her redecorating the shop's display. It wasn't long after that I felt a nudge against my arm. Something fleshy, something bouncy; yet firm. As I turned to look, there was this salesgirl that walked passed me and flashed a wry grin on her face. I have reason to believe that it was deliberate, so I told Mariam "That girl just rubbed her boobs against me." Was she angry, was she mad, was she in a fit of fury? Nope!! She simply turned to look at the girl, then smiled at me, and then asked the salesgirl in her attendance "Do you have size 5 for this pair?" I knew too well then that I cannot expect much from a woman that easily could trade her soul for a sole. Not long after, again I was grazed upon by something fleshy, something bouncy; yet again; firm. I actually forgot that breast comes in pair, and I should have anticipated the second coming. She's enormous in that department though; and if you know anything about the DOME Of Rock in Jurusalem, you'll probably be able to imagine what I am talking about.

Half angered by the fact that Mariam finds the incident amusing, I was left protesting all the way back home. She got her size 5 at the expense of my modesty; and I got a 'D' cup against my will. The fact that the girl has the look that didn't leave much to thrill my imagination, I felt like a whore, I felt violated, it felt dirty. I could have sworn that I was mentally raped, but Mariam still thinks that I made too much of a galore over the incident. Never mind that she called me a 'grumpus' - a sobriquet that I have long lived to earn, but only I know that I am scarred for life.

The Gal Is Mine...

2007-05-14T17:13:00.000+08:00

Girlfriend
You make my head start spinning around
And all I can ever hear is the sound
Of your heart beating in my ears
Girlfriend
This boy has found another reason to sing
You're reminding me of everything
That I hold dear in my heart

And I'm feeling elevated
Lifted to my highest dream
My whole world's revolving in circles round your heart
You gotta be the one for me or else life makes no sense
So wrap your arms around me
Kiss me till I'm dead

Girlfriend
A girl like you would take an army to find
How glad I am that you said you would be mine
standing there in the cold, dark night
Girlfriend
Let me take you to the fields of the sun
How much it means to me that you are the one
That I hold here in my arms

Bridge Over Troubled Water

2007-05-06T02:51:00.000+08:00

Bridge Over Trouble Waters

When you're weary, feelin' small
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all.
I'm on your side, Oh, when times get rough
And friends just can't be found.

Like a bridge over troubled waters
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled waters
I will lay me down.

When you're down and out, when you're on the street
When evening falls so hard, I will comfort you.
I'll take your part, Oh when darkness comes
And pain is all around

Like a bridge over troubled waters
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled waters
I will lay me down.

Sail on children, sail on by
Your time has come to shine, all their dreams are on their way
See how they shine, Oh when you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind

Like a bridge over troubled waters
I will ease your mind
Like a bridge over troubled waters,
I will ease your mind.
I'll ease your mind.

My MANUKA Love Song

2007-04-26T04:48:00.000+08:00

Conspiracy theory has now freed my household from Coke and all other snazzy carbonated sodas that come in different tastes and in living colors. They all say that it’s bad for my health. By health I mean the power to live a full, adult, living, breathing life in close contact with... the earth and the wonders thereof - the sea - the sun – the sex. Of course I wouldn't recommend sex, drugs or insanity for everyone, but they've always worked for me.

I have long surrendered my liberty to both Ziehan and Mariam who have now jointly assumed equal command and government over the sovereignty of my stomach. They’ve decided between them that a house is no home unless it contains friendly food and healthy drink for the mind as well as the body. Hence the refrigerator is like a mini pharmacy now. All stocked up with Nutrisoy and all other sundries enough to bake cheesecakes and brownies. Under their strict regime, foods and drinks look almost alike. When drinks are made of beans and foods are made of mostly water, it’s hard to tell them apart. I didn’t realize until recently that Mariam also owns a magic kitchen. One that is equipped with special effect. All things that look delicious on the stove and smell nice in the air can suddenly become porridge on the dining table. Gone were those days when the air was clean and sex was dirty!! One thing I learned though – Treasure the love you have received above all. It will survive long after your gold and good health has vanished.

Today, the only way to keep my health is to eat what I don’t want, drink what I don’t like, and do what I’d rather not. A good healthy sumptuous meal is like sex nowadays; when it is good, it is very, very good; and when it is bad, it is better than nothing. I can’t be too careful now; ignorance after all is the thing that takes up the least amount of time and causes the most amount of trouble.

The life of man is the true romance, which when it is valiantly conduced, will yield the imagination of a higher joy than any fiction. Ziehan and Mariam struggled just as much as I did trying to cope with my pain. Those many days and those many nights that I was on intravenous drips, they ate good foods. And eat they will… come winter, spring, summer or fall.

Nothing in life is promised except death. In “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince,” JK Rowling wrote, “It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” I guess that's how death works. It doesn't matter if we're ready or not. It just happens. Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome…the safest course is to do nothing against one’s conscience. With this secret, we can enjoy life and have no fear from death.

There are worse things in life than death. Have you ever spent an evening with a multi level marketing health supplement salesman? Just like everybody else, I was hospitalized hoping to be excused from death. These health conscious freaks are going to feel stupid someday. Lying in hospitals dying of nothing. They use their imagination to scare your guts out and then inspire you to live by their pills.

I don’t live by anything other than the love that I have for Ziehan. Sickness and healings are in every heart; death and deliverance in every hand. This afternoon, on the way to the hospital, I might have received an sms from GOD…and it reads:

“Back in the office. Bought Manuka honey for you. Make sure you take it, because I’ve paid good money for it. Love you.”

No act of kindness, no matter how small, should ever be ignored. I couldn’t thank her enough for all the good that she has given me in sickness and in health. To recompense kindness for kindness, My MANUKA Love Song is specially penned for you.

My MANUKA Love Song

My Honey bought me honey,
With good penny of her money,
She paid good money for the honey,
To keep happy her horny honey.

Within the forest of Auckland’s wood,
If it ain’t Manuka, it ain't as good,
With good money for the honey she paid for MANUKA,
My horny honey wants to play ‘Atuuk zouk zouk Lana.’

Klaz On Carousel

2007-04-24T00:00:00.000+08:00

We inherited from our past gifts so often taken for granted… Each of us contained within… this inheritance of histories. We were linked between ages, containing past and present, sacred memories and future promise.

What greater thing is there for us than to feel that we are joined... to strengthen each other... to be one with each other - be it in silent unspeakable memories or in a noisy reunion. No matter how long we exist, we have our memories. These were points in time which time itself cannot erase. Some pockets of memories may distort our backward glances, but even to pain and suffering, some memories will yield nothing of their beauty or their splendor. Rather they remain as hard as gems.

More than any other time in history, we face a crossroads. While one path may lead to despair and utter hopelessness, the other probably might lead to destiny or even total extinction. But if we limit our choices only to what seems possible or probable, we will only disconnect ourselves from what we truly want, and all that is left is a compromise. One thing is clear to me, when there is a need where the needs be, or where there is need when the needs be, WE NEED. It is not just about the wisdom of choices. Sometime we need to take that leap of faith. We need friends, we need trusts – we need to trust our friends. Twenty-seven years were too long a recess; with a sense of belief, we do not have to suffer the psychological toll from the quantum leap.

Nothing to me is more distasteful than that entire satisfaction which beamed in the countenances of some methodical liars whom for their own intents, weaved a tangled web of deceit; hell bent on harvesting their very own brand of virus and to construct Klaz ’78 road to perdition. Surely, these individuals lack the general civic on how to live effectively and harmoniously with themselves and others. This I believe is an unfortunate outcome of moral deficiency. The absence of conscience clearly place little or no emphasis or value on providing a person with the worthy course to live a life of personal fulfillment, contribution and self-actualization. And these could be the very same people who spent half their life trying to find something to do with the time they have rushed through life trying to save; yet with all that time they saved, they bore themselves with no life to live.

No one has to bleed for Klaz ’78. However, on the afternoon of the 31st March 2007, I defied odds and pains and all the physical strain just to be at the Terrace @Carousel. I found myself with 60 special reasons to take a leave of absence from the confine of my hospital bed – FRIENDS. I simply cannot resist the opportunity to integrate with the long lost remnants of my Jurassic past. With the fondest of memories, we trusted each other with the secrets of our growing pain yet knowing that none will retail our rights, our life to the world.

It takes more than nuts and bolts to build a bridge. With the 60 special reasons, the High-Tea @Carousel helped formed a bridge between body and mind, equipped with a springboard from which we can leap to new realms of experience lying outside our limited state of consciousness. Men whose life begin at forty; and women with mid-life crisis, unreservedly embarked the platform and re-lived that moments of their past among friends because the integral part of their life are there.

Life is something that everyone should try at least once in a lifetime. There is no life after death because we don’t believe in reincarnation. So why not have a life before death instead of trying for some time to develop a lifestyle that doesn’t require your presence. You seem to have made more friends in two years by becoming interested in other peoples’ life than you have in twenty-seven years just trying to get other people interested in yours.

Without a sense of belief on how to make wise choices in one’s life, the chances are very slim anyone will make them. I would rather have a mind opened by belief than one closed by wonder. Nothing so fortifies a friendship as a belief on our part that all friends are equal; when we are opened by this belief, we do not have to wonder why. The passage of time has more than 60 special reasons for you to ride along. You became persona non grata in Klaz ’78 only by your own choice of a self-imposed exile. At Carousel, you could have been the 61 special reasons among us. If you can’t change your fate, change your attitude. The art of being yourself at your best is the art of unfolding your personality into the person you want to be. Be gentle with yourself, learn to love yourself, to forgive yourself, for only as we have the right attitude toward ourselves can we have the right attitude and respect toward others.

That day on the 31st March 2007 at The Terrace @Carousel, for all the wonderful memories and that of all its blessings, I owe a deep depth of gratitude to The High Council Of The High-Tea.

Sekalung Budi khusus untuk:

Saharimah (The Chairperson)
Ziehan Jazz (Administrator/Treasurer and The Love Of My Life)
Liza Moes (Project Promoter/Public Relation)
Zubaidah (Project Coordinator)
Norliza (Project Coordinator)
Zainudin (Project Coordinator)
Hasman (Project Coordinator)
Muzain (Project Coordinator)

Once Upon A Man

2007-03-29T19:53:00.000+08:00

Y.I.S.S. - My SCHOOL Of Thought

2007-03-28T15:52:00.000+08:00

I have never let my schooling interferes with my education. My education was dismal. I went to a series of schools for mentally disturbed teachers. Everything that I have to learn then, I learned by experience; and for many of those who lack the aptitude, the school compelled them into a weekend remedial program called ‘Extra Curriculum.’

Many became toy soldiers or police ‘bedek’. Crook like me, we trained on our own. I was taught that to acquire knowledge, one must study; but to acquire wisdom, one must observe. With this in mind, I skipped many a lesson and I observed a lot. Albert Einstein after all said, “Imagination is more important than knowledge…” Talking about which, that I have in abundance. I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. I know for a fact that knowledge is limited. Imagination however, encircles the world. At 13 years of age, I may be young, but I was old enough to be a hero among men. I constantly entertained myself by sitting back in class and plugging into a vision that only I could see. More often than not, a hero’s most epic battle is the one none could ever see; it’s the battle that goes on within me, within my imagination.

I tried to be a student of knowledge; I was muzzled in schools, trained to sing the anthem, took the pledge of loyalty, for ten or fifteen years, and came out at last with a bag of wind, a memory of words, and still did not know a thing. There was obviously something wrong with the institution. The problem lay buried, unspoken for many years in my mind. It was a strange stirring sense of dissatisfaction, a yearning that I suffered in the middle of my educational process; and I struggled with it alone. As I struggled with my endeavors to excel, I was wary to ask even of myself the silent question: “Is this all?”

By a system so deliberate, the school found a way to segregate those with ‘artificial intelligence’ into a class of higher learning and alienate the rest into an academy of fools. This process was called ‘streaming’. I simply called it “Dumb And Dumber.” The great majority of the students were required to live a life of constant duplicity. Our education is bound to be affected, if day by day, we say the opposite of what we feel, if we grovel before what we dislike and rejoice at what bring us nothing but failure. This system mowed away a level playing field and created nothing but educational misadventure; and it can’t be forever violated with impunity. I cannot in conscience allow myself to be artificially inseminated by a seed of prejudice. The right of student should not be marginalized.

When I was streamed into a class supposedly better than other, I embarked on the only vehicle I knew then – PROTEST. As a result of which, I successfully ended school serving time with the rest of my “Band Of Brothers.” For this reason and with this reason alone, I acquired the best education that few possessed. Those privilege enough to be friends of the system would obviously argue on their personal merits. Merit or not, YISS ain’t Raffles; and the system that you gleefully espoused then did not yield among thou a rocket scientist, a doctor, a legislator or a lawyer…. A moral bankrupt – maybe.

I have no quarrel with the school though. It was just the system, the management and some of the teachers that I lack faith in. YISS was never a brand name then. It may have been named after the first president of the republic, but that doesn’t necessarily make its student the president’s scholars. I am only too aware that knowledge comes from education; but often when our pride seems wounded it not only leaves our vanity bleeding, it retards one’s pursuit for excellence. I am a patriot to my own course and I do not have to believe in anything simply because I have heard it. I do not have to believe in anything simply because it is rumored and spoken by many. I do not have to believe in anything simply because it is found written in my history books. I do not have to believe in anything merely on the authority of my teachers. I do not have to believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. It’s only after observation and analysis, when I find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, only then I will accept it and live up to it. And for a reason so sentimental, I believe that if I have to live back through time and do school all over again, I would never have traded YISS for any other institution…though it would pleasure me to see more teachers back then do a wireless bungee jumping just like the stunt our late Miss Lau did.

Head Over HEAL - Time Cancels Pain

2007-03-26T14:58:00.000+08:00

The most powerful thing in the world is indeed love, nothing has ever made better or caused more grief than love. All things can be justified in love, and yet through its pale blanket, nothing is seen at all. Truth can be turned to lies and lies to truth, the ugly made beautiful for the blind to see. Yet, all is lost until we love. But what do we gain? Love, this inescapable force that surrounds and permeates our very being, what is it? Is it a product of our desire to mold the world around us so that we appear more than we really are?

I am in one of those moods today. Where everything seems surreal. Like I am an observer who is there in the middle of the action; but not really a part of it.

I feel like writing, stories, filled with hope and dreams and glimpses of worlds never before seen. Then the mood passes and I feel that door to the world I have seen, slowly close and seal itself, never to be opened again. Filling me with unknown longing and wonder. It’s weird.

All this because a good friend sought my counsel recently for an advice that I am only too aware he values little. As I write this, I have strong reason to believe that he is in a state of mourning. Mourning his own death from the joy and happiness of life that he knows not how to cherish. It is said in ancient journals and books of scribes much better than I, that the brave dies only once, but a coward dies many deaths.

Is it that worse to see one's dreams dashed against the cold stone reef of reality or to never have dreamt at all? You may be a wretched soul, bruised with adversity, but you do not own pain. Pain, the right to which only belongs to the man who strives valiantly and spends himself in a worthy cause; and when he fails, he fails while daring greatly.

Any idiot can feel pain. The trick is not how much pain you suffer – but how much joy you feel. Life is so full of excuses to feel pain, excuses not to live, excuses, excuses, EXCUSES! Just because Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill did not come tumbling after, there’s simply no reason good enough for Humpty Dumpty to sit on the wall just waiting for that great fall. Alas, I now know too well that to argue with a person who has renounced the use of reason is like administering medicine to the dead.

When I am all alone I feel as though I am mere inches from some great truth that I am supposed to find and understand, but can never reach. As though the path I am following is of my own making and yet, not at all, at the same time. I wish I knew what to do. Sometimes, when I am walking outside I will simply stare at the world around me. It is funny how we can live our whole life without ever really living. I sometimes wonder if we are truly meant to be something in this world. I always seem to look at things so much differently than everyone else. I smile when others are silent, I laugh when no one is around...I am different.

The human mind is indeed the most amazing and powerful of computers. Transient and temporary though it is, it is very powerful. The most unnerving of questions that this computer can pose is "why?" Why do we do what we do? So full of questions. Will anything but our own advancement come of it? Still more questions. We go from one mundane task to another yet never really accomplish anything of importance. I do realize that importance is merely a matter of perspective. Yes, indeed the human mind is a powerful computer, but to what ends? “To what ends?” I asked. Still more questions. Greater gifts have never been given than those conceived in the mind, nor greater crimes. Slowly, we bob, just barely above the surface, adrift in a fathomless sea of doubt and self-pity. Awash in our own ignorance, we choose not to see the truth and to learn from what has happened, instead we lower our eyes and blunder through life committing the same mistakes our father's and their father's fathers and the fathers before them might have made. Will it never end? Will we never understand? Still more questions.

Love, an ethereal thing that is as beautiful as a shimmering rainbow reflected in the awed eyes of a child, as cruel as the cold bite of steel in flesh. Must we always pass through trial and tribulation before we experience it, must there always be a moment of truth before it surrounds us? Still more questions. Slowly I drag myself back to the surface. Pulling the threads of reality back around my heart, building once more the walls that will forever make me different. That set me apart. But is it truly so bad to be different, I think to myself as I become more of myself and at the same time less than I was. For in its own way isn't everything different? I allow my facade to crack into a quirky grin...will these questions never end? I ask myself once again...Still more questions.

PAIN - Cuts Like A Knife...

2007-03-25T14:03:00.000+08:00

For the past two months, I’ve been living through a bad break. Today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth. It might have been a bad break, but I’ve got an awful lot to live for. So now, whenever I hear someone says life is hard, I’m always tempted to ask, “Compared to what?”

Look to your health; and if you have it, praise GOD and value it next to conscience; for health is the second blessing that we constantly take for granted, that we are capable of ignoring, a blessing that money can’t buy. A wise man should consider that health is the greatest of human blessings, and learn how by his own thought to derive benefit from his illnesses. Today I learned that the more severe the pain or illness, the more severe will be the necessary changes. These may involve breaking bad habits, or acquiring some new and better ones. It is amazing how much crisper the general experience of life becomes when your body is given a chance to develop a little strength.

Here is the story of a man who always wants to carry too much. My spiritual quest is the painful process of learning to let go of things not essential. If you are distressed by anything external, I realized now that the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this we have the power to revoke at any moment. It feels odd at how sometime we can get so anesthetized by our own pain or our own problem that we don’t quite fully share the suffering of someone close to us.

But pain… seems to me an insufficient reason not to embrace life. This being said let us for a moment believe and wonder that being dead is quite painless. Thus if death is painless, how much pain can pain be. Pain, like time, is going to come regardless. Question is, what glorious moments can you win from life without the test of trials and tribulations, without the test of resolves and without the test of our perseverance.

I know pain well..

And have for many years.

It has a story I don't often tell,
for it sheds tears for fears.

Pain cuts into me..
It’s sharp and cuts deep..
Where joy used to be,
fears tend to creep.

Everybody's been there,
at sometime in their life.
Most are aware..
of pain’s sharp knife.

You cannot guard against pain,
if it means to come your way.
You can only try in vain,
and hope it doesn't stay.

"Days Of Our Loves"

2007-02-01T03:39:00.000+08:00

Continue from "Shape Of My Heart" (4th December 2006)...

Life passes most people by when they're busy making grand plans for it. It moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it. I have enjoyed greatly the second blooming that comes when you finish the life of the emotions and of personal relations; and suddenly find - at the age of forty-four, that a whole new life has opened before you, filled with things you can think about, write about, or talk about. It is as if a fresh sap of hopes was rising in you.

I've had more than my share of poignant moments too. During the most impressionable stage of my life, I've left pieces of my heart here and there. There were moments back then when I’m left with almost barely enough heart to stay alive. The world I created then has its own rule of fancy, and that was – If we have our own ‘WHY’ of life, we should get along with almost any ‘HOW’. I was ever “The Young And The Restless” with an insatiable appetite and addiction for a fast and robust lifestyle. I was athirst for challenge. There were no wings to fly with; there was a clear and present danger of falling; yet my soul soared high to negotiate with gravity in a longing to touch the limit of the sky.

When it seems that all I have left are the dead remnants of the fabric of my life, opportunity that only knocks once at every men’s’ door; knocks again. In an age of nothing, at a time when I stood at the brink of my surrender, it awakened that which lies dormant within my soul. It re-ignited the flame of my consciousness, and measured the strength of my conviction. The truest lengthening of life to me is to live while we live, wasting no time but using every hour for the highest ends. So be it this day when I found Ziehan. I found and embraced the love that I was fortunate enough to re-discover. It was an opportunity so grand that it offered me something new to cherish. It helped strengthened my belief in myself, the future and in the things of this world that cannot be easily perceived. I used it to anchor myself in the sea of chaos, in the world we all live in today.

Suddenly memories of my haphazard years faded away and I suppose it’s just as well. What comes back is a new dawn every morning of every day since I knew Ziehan. I didn’t realize until recently that all my life she has always been there. I tried navigating back through the course of history with a hope of finding that defining moment; a moment that could have been but just wasn’t meant to be. That young girl was always there then; but the love was not. It might have been apathy or I was just simply blind. Whatever the case might have been then, a beautiful woman now evolves from the shadow of that young girl. Twenty-seven years too late or not, be the reason for one of everything; or all for nothing; it’s love resurrected.

I know that the best way to predict the future is to invent it. But there were times I found myself fearing for Ziehan when glimpses of my careless past raced through my emotion. There was no doubting my love for Ziehan; but when a man’s emotion is not in order, the more of it he has, the greater will be his confusion. The mere attempt to examine my own confusion would consume volumes.

I asked myself too many questions. I was my own reality show host. I was to become the man who invented the ‘Question Mark'. There was never a ready answer to everything and yet long did I wonder…

Have you ever wondered, what it would feel like, to hold a woman’s heart, and want her with all of your soul? Can you live up to her expectations? Will you make her as happy, as your words have led her to believe? Does the longing in your heart quit making it hard to breathe, or does it just continue, stronger than before? The big question still needs to be answered. Why would she ever consider allowing you any where close to her? Will she see, that you are there, because your heart won't allow you to be anywhere else? Is there reason to believe, that she feels the same way for you? Can a friendship develop into a long lasting relationship with a promise of a future? Does fate possibly work this way? Is she as apprehensive as you are? Are those fluttering in her stomach from joy, or rejection? Has she spent time with you, because the feeling was mutual, or just because she has some to spare? Has she finally realized, that she could do a hell of a lot better? How will you handle it, if she turns and walks away, disappointedly? If she sees you first, will she pretend not to? You've heard her voice, and fantasize her turning to you in the morning, to say wake up, but was that ever in the cards? Would she expect a kiss, and if so, how passionate? Do the daily emails, poems and phone calls, make her think you are pathetic, or do they convey the hope, and desire, as they were meant to? Are you pushing too much, and risking pushing her out of your life?

What is the proper approach, to meeting her? Do you meet, for the first time, at a restaurant, the hotel lobby, or should you pick her up for a movie? Her children are her life. Should your first meeting also include them? If you meet the children, what is the ratio of attention supposed to be? Where do you get the answers? Who makes the rules, and do they ever change?

It’s your first date, how do you proceed? Are you allowed to touch her arm, when making a point? Is holding her hand, at the table, acceptable? Can you put your arm around her, while walking? Is getting lost, in her eyes a good thing, or will she think you are a simpleton? Will she want serious conversation, and if so can you meet the challenge?

When dinner is over, what would be expected? A movie, a stroll around town, or God forbid, karaoke? Do you make plans, or just play it by ear? Can you hold her tighter, without her thinking you're just trying to get into her pants?

Will the end of this date, be the end of your relationship with her, or have you already blown it, by showing up in the first place? Is it fair to hope, that you can see her again tomorrow, and every tomorrow, for the next 50 or 60 years? Has she even thought about spending the rest of your lives together? Does the possibility excite her as much as it does you?

Will it be possible, to convince her, that you want her future life to be without the hurts, and worries of her past? Can she understand the love you feel for her? Does she believe, that you want her to be happy? Is there a way, to let her know, that you have never love like this before without it sounding like a line?

Could you be all that she wants, for herself, and her children? Would they accept some one taking some of her time? Can you be an influence, in making them into the responsible adults that they are to become?

As I lived with the questions without ever seeking the need for an answer, gradually, without noticing it, I found myself living along some distant days into the answer. And toward all that were unresolved in my heart, I was patient enough to know now that it is better to love some of the questions than all of the answers.

To Be Continued......

No Pork; No Lard

2007-01-23T05:27:00.000+08:00

"Curse of the Golden Flower" - The title refers to the empress' obsession with embroidering chrysanthemums for a coming festival. It is an ambitious, engrossing tale about a dysfunctional royal family of the Tang Dynasty ruling in 10th-century China: the domineering Emperor, the ill adulterous mother and three sons of unequal ambition.

Palace intrigue abounds as the emperor's middle son, Prince Jai, arrives after long service in the military. To honor his arrival, a huge ceremony is planned. In the middle of the night, hundreds of servants, functionaries and others arise and carefully prepare themselves; the scale and precision of the sequences tell me that I’m in for a treat.

But before he can visit the palace, Prince Jai must first pass a test. He and his father, both dressed in impressive armor, battle each other with swords. As I watch the tense fight, I sensed that the sparring match might foreshadow something far more grave.

Inside the impossibly ornate palace, the empress awaits the arrival of Jai, her son. I found out that she has been having an affair with her stepson, Crown Prince Wan, a self-professed weakling who doesn't believe he deserves the throne.

It's also easy to see that the empress is very ill. Her forehead is beaded with sweat and she's wracked with tremors. To combat this, the emperor has ordered the imperial doctor to prepare an herbal potion of the emperor's concoction, but the empress is not convinced of its worth. On the eve of the Chong Yang Festival, golden flowers fill the Imperial Palace. The Emperor returns unexpectedly with his second son, Prince Jai. His pretext is to celebrate the holiday with his family, but given the chilled relations between the Emperor and the ailing Empress, this seems disingenuous.

Meanwhile, Prince Jai, the faithful son, grows worried over the Empress's health and her obsession with golden chrysanthemums. Could she be headed down an ominous path?The Emperor harbors equally clandestine plans; the Imperial Doctor is the only one privy to his machinations.

Amid the glamour and grandeur of the festival, ugly secrets are revealed. As the Imperial Family continues its elaborate charade in a palatial setting, thousands of golden armored warriors charge the palace. Who is behind this brutal rebellion? Where do Prince Jai's loyalties lie? Between love and desire, is there a final winner? There might be - if only the movie has subtitles.

I loved the movie so much but I was also desperate for a conclusion. There must have been at least five million Chinese fighting against each other in this movie. It’s hard to name all of them. But where and when and when who matters where, I manage a decent understanding of all the plots and ploys of the plans. At least these much I understood – I think??

The Imperial household consists of the Emperor, the Empress, the crown prince - Prince Wan, Prince Jai, Prince Song, the imperial doctor, the imperial doctor’s daughter and about two million other Chinese workers.

Prince Wan is the Emperor’s first born from the Emperor’s first wife who was supposed to be dead but is still alive. Prince Jai is the son of the Emperor’s second wife who has an incestuous affair with the Emperor’s first son. Prince Song is the Emperor’s third son from a mother that I know not. He could be anybody’s son for all I care. Chan is the daughter of the imperial doctor whose wife is a mother of his daughter who used to be the Emperor’s first wife who was supposed to be dead but is still alive. The Empress is the second wife of the Emperor who is very much alive but the Emperor wants dead.

For many years, the Empress and Crown Prince Wan, her stepson, have had an illicit liaison. Feeling trapped, Prince Wan dreams of escaping the palace with his secret love, Chan, the Imperial Doctor's daughter. Numerous forces, including the Empress, who is also in love with the Crown Prince, try to keep the lovers apart. It leads them on a dangerous journey where secrets of the royal family are uncovered.

On a night before the chrysanthemum festival, Chan sneaks into Prince Wan’s chamber. There was nothing much to this scene that could leave me salivating for some steamy oriental soft porn. They talk a lot instead.

Chan: “Chan want Wan to know that Wan is Chan one and only one.”
Prince Wan: “ Chan is also Wan one and only one.”
Chan: “Wan think Chan got chan (chance) if Chan want to marry Wan?”
Prince Wan: “ If Chan want chan (chance), Wan will give Chan one chan (chance).”
Chan: “Chan love Wan and Chan want Wan.”
Prince Wan: “Wan love Chan too and Wan want Chan too…”

Bearing in mind that I did not have the benefit of a subtitle, this was what possibly could have transpired when the Emperor finds out about the illicit liaison between mother and son…. I think??

Emperor: “I sent Prince Jai to war and he became a warrior. I sent Prince Song to school and he became a scholar. I wanted to teach you how to fight so that you can become a fighter. Instead you stayed behind with your mother…only to become a MOTHERFUCKER!!!”

Just before the epic adventure on the night of the chrysanthemum festival, the imperial family gathers for a karaoke session.

Emperor: “Song… why don’t you sing us a good song”
Prince Song: “What song do you want Song to sing?”
Emperor: “As long as Song sing a song, we sing with Song and we sing along.”
Prince Song: “If Song sing a song and Song sing a “Thong Song”, will your majesty sing along?”
Emperor: “As long as the “Thong Song” is not a long song, we will sing the song with Song”

And then when the Emperor senses a looming threat, he relocates the doctor's family from the Palace and makes him the new Governor in a remote area of Shuzhoa. While they are en route, mysterious assassins attack them. Chan and her mother are forced back to the palace. Their return sets off a tumultuous sequence of dark surprises. During the hot pursuit, Chan is separated from her mother. Frantic, the poor mother goes screaming for her name in search for Chan.

Mother: “CHAN!!! CHAAAAAAN………!! “CHAAAAaaaaaaaaaaan…..!! “CHAAaaaaaaan ….!!!
“CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!! “Chan Ma Li Chan ketipong payong…………….”

I know that I may not be a 100 percent accurate. But a Chinese movie with no English subtitles - go figure yourself. The End...Phew!!

TRUTH Be Written; TRUTH Be Told.

2007-01-21T19:01:00.000+08:00

I certainly do not consider myself permanently dedicated to a crusade for peace and I am beginning to see the uselessness and absurdity of getting too involved with it. The chief reason why I have spoken out was that I felt I owed it to my conscience to do so. There are certain things that have to be clearly stated. I had in mind particularly the danger arising from the fact that some of the most belligerent people around us are relatives and close friends. They all tend to appeal to their own ‘holy crusade’ to be right to do wrong. This is completely intolerable and the truth has to be stated. I cannot in conscience remain indifferent.

There is here a cruel dilemma before us. Were we not taught how to forgive out of love, how to forget out of humility. So let us examine our hearts and see if there is any unforgiven hurt - any unforgotten bitterness. People often think of morality as a kind of bargain in which they can subordinate one’s right and fashion the issue according to their own rules of thumb. This, indeed creates a dangerous world – a world in which moral issues become a fertile ground to breed immorality.

Truth be told – Without wanting to sound condescending, you are not that stupid after all, and you ain’t that bad either. Your comment in my entry ref: “What’s Good For The Goose; Is Good For The Gander” may not entirely represent the essence of its goodwill, but it’s definitely a consolatory overture nonetheless. I read your comment with mix feelings of course and I discovered that when you least care to admit it, you feel more confused than thankful, more caught than called, and more worried than gracious.

Your retaliatory counter-threat against Ziehan however does not scare us. Lest you forget, it was I who wrote “I don’t fucking care if no one comes out of this smelling like roses.” So you want to expose Ziehan – shame on you. So Ziehan has a skeleton in her closet – shame on her. And that when you’re done, you also think that I will leave her – shame on me. Must I remind you that my love for Ziehan knows no bound? Must I also remind you that when I first fell in love with your sister, I fell in love with her not for who she was but for the woman she is. I cannot comprehend those rules of conduct that make you so content with yourself and so cold to a sister that you professed you love still.

Suppose I don’t give a damn about your retaliatory counter-threat. Suppose I were to put my balls in your court. Suppose I were to tell you – “Let’s play.” Now, do you suppose I sounded scared? Just do not poise yourself for a showdown if you do not have the stomach for it. I have no reason to suppose, that they, who would take away my liberty, would not when I play into their hands, take away my pride and every thing else.

Your observations, perceptions and beliefs are a blend of false information, biases, prejudices, in which morsels of truth swim around and give you the reassurance albeit false, that the whole concoction is real and true. Regrettably, this catalogue of errors that only offers you the singular illusion that we are rebels without a cause misguides you. So let us not be blind to our differences. Let us just direct the attention to our common purposes and to the means by which we can rehabilitate those differences.

In a matter pertaining to Ziehan’s entry that you purportedly said started all these, Ziehan might have done wrong all for her own right reasons. Right or wrong, whatever that reasons might be, she did it all within the confine of her personal and legitimate premise. Truth be told; I did not condone that – and Ziehan knew that then. Truth be told; I was just as displeased when she pulled that entry down. But between the principles and convictions that I am so committed to, I could never argue against her when I realized that she pulled the entry down all for the sake of a mother that she loves dearly. The matter was supposedly settled when Ziehan retracted the entry and likewise apologized when your cousin sought the same from her.

Now I ask you this question – was it not enough an apology when Ziehan replied to your cousin? Was it not enough a goodwill when Ziehan retracted her entry? And was it not enough to see your own mother on her knees that you now want to see your sister apologize publicly to these people in her blog? If it was up to me, your mum shouldn’t have sacrificed half her height to these people. Is it not the law of nature that when you place someone on a high pedestal, the higher they are, the smaller you’d become? Yes indeed - I would have been very angry if I were you. You asked me a question and that is my answer. But if I were you, I would have been angry only with myself. All for one reason and one reason alone – that you couldn’t do enough to salvage the dignity of a wonderful mother from the ‘holy’ feet of the high and mighty relative.

It also saddens me to note that you chose to persistently believe that I insulted John despite my assurance that my entry was just a figure of speech with no malice intended. You conveniently took my manuscript out of its context just so you could champion your right to be offended.

Insofar as my friend is concerned, you can continue to dance with the wolf. There is no love lost here – just trust me. Nobody can change a wolf into a butterfly – if she’s a wolf, she’s a wolf and that’s that. And I do not have the slightest inclination to make your blogging friends mine to play with in the first place. Whatever opinion they may have, it wouldn’t cost me anything – would it? When Ziehan’s rights to free speech becomes ‘mengumpat’ to you, it just sounded so funny to see you write “If your school friend and me discussed something concerning both of you, well too bad.” If that is not ‘mengumpat’ to you, just don’t stop on my account.

I would have loved to respond to all of your comments in my personal pursuit for justice. But I must admit that I could not possibly continue without discrediting you. For once you touched me with your sense of civility. Despite all these acrimonious spats, I do believe that all is not lost. I hope that our most important task now is to transform our consciousness so that this enmity is no longer an option for us in our personal lives, that understanding that a world of tolerance is possible only if we relate to each other as peaceful beings, one individual at a time. Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. I know that there are eyes that watch all of us. There are judgments that weigh everything we do. I also know that every good and excellent thing in the world stands moment by moment on the razor-edge of danger and must be fought for. Lick your wounds no more for I meant you no harm. As a matter of real concern that your comments might do you more harm than good, it is in your best interest therefore that I choose not to publish it. Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; therefore, we must be saved by hope. Nothing which is true, or beautiful, or good, makes complete sense in any immediate context of time; therefore, we must be saved by faith. Nothing we do, however virtuous, could be accomplished alone; therefore, we must be saved by respect. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our own standpoint; therefore, we must be saved by the final form of respect, which is mutuality. I have a love story to tell, a train to catch, dreams to chase and a journey to complete - In time, I will let the truth reveals itself.

What's Good For The Goose; Is Good For The Gander

2007-01-16T06:22:00.000+08:00

“It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best, knows the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.” – Theodore Roosevelt - April 23 1910.

So you think you have had your fair share of your fair say. Now allow me to have mine. Whether or not it’s a fair share of your say or a fair share of mine; like you, I will play this to the gallery. So let’s play this to the amusement and entertainment of those that play in your playground as well as mine. Since it suits you fine, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander then – albeit this will not add inches to my dick nor will it inflate the size of my balls.

I warned you against putting yourself on a collision course with me or you might expose one too many dirt of your own and self inflict upon your pathetic life the pitfall of your excessive pride and suffer the peril of your own doing. Now that you elect to raise the level of our confrontation, the pleasure to entertain my audiences will be as much mine as it has been yours. This moment henceforth, whatever two pence worth you give, you’ll get two pence back what you’re worth. In all its fairness, I called it ‘quid pro quo’. You want to go for the jugular; I am more than elated to indulge you. I don’t fucking care if no one comes out of this smelling like roses, not the least you, who are hidebound by character.

Now let’s go back to my entry ref “Taking An ONDE At My OWNDAY” dated 20th November 2006. That entry was motivated by the need to address those spineless pussies who hide behind their keyboards and then deem right upon themselves to pass disparaging comments – you included. And when you are torn between your guilt and that oversize ego of yours, you tagged me with such flagrant audacity as if I owe you an answer to your so-called ‘intelligent question’ - never mind that I didn’t know who the fuck you are!! And then now, you have the propensity to blabber like you are an innocent victim of an unforgiving institution.

I may be a good friend to ‘Bruce Almighty’ but I don’t recall being empowered with the divine office to canonize anyone as ‘SAINT’. While it’s true that I wrote “But if you chose to trample upon the rights of others to feel and express themselves in a space that doesn’t even belongs to you, I don’t care if you are Mother Theresa, be that you are married to St. Peter, St. Paul, St. Luke or St. JOHN, just don’t expect me to exercise restraint”, one does not need to be intellectually gifted to know what a figure of speech is all about. If JOHN is a Saint by an implicit insinuation according to your fuck up context, then why are you not Mother Theresa? Having said that, don’t ever attempt to paraphrase my manuscript out of its context – you do not have the intelligence for that. Talking about which, I know as a matter of fact that JOHN is indeed a saint, and so is George and so is Paul. If it is within my authority, I might as well make Ringo a saint too. GET IT??

And then you also want the world to know THE REAL LIAR I AM…. Well you didn’t try hard enough. BUT the world certainly knows now what a BLOODY FOOL you are. Especially now that you have a newly found friend, the two of you after all made perfect bedfellows. You could not have asked for more. Only IDIOT begets IDIOT; and between the two of you, I am not the least surprise if you all share a combine IQ just enough to play ‘scissors, paper, stone’. For all I care, you can choose to dance with that wolf (your newly found friend) and feed your dogs, OR feed the wolf and dance with your dogs. While you were pontificating to prove a point, you also talked about Cat Steven and all your dogs in a same breath. Cat and dogs… you are not running for a high office in SPCA are you?

We all know that your parents are a wonderful people and Ziehan and I have tremendous respects for them. Fuck you if you choose not to believe that. Just because they are staying under your roof, that doesn’t necessarily qualify you as the sole provider of their ‘comfortable life’. By the way, what exactly is your definition of a ‘comfortable life’? Is it the comfort of a roof above their heads that you are providing them with in your ‘concrete cubicle’; or the convenience that they are providing you with to cater to all your needs? Were you not taught that what you give with your right hand, the left hand should not know? Unless of course if you want to give yourself a slap in the face with one hand, you might as well tell the other hand to do the same; and for your own good measures, you might like to tell your leg to kick you in the ass too.

I am a simple man who doesn’t waste time wondering 'what could have been', knowing I am 'what could have been' and 'could not have been'. I live on both sides of the fence where my grass is always green. These spaces have parameters you know…. it’s called "The Thin Red Line". Now let me tell you what I have, and what I don’t have.

I have emails to expose you as a hypocrite. Those mails that you talked about some of your own relatives - remember? I don’t have respect for you; BUT I have enough sanity within me to prevent both Ziehan and myself from wanting to do that.

I have enough to document you as a pathetic loser. I don’t have respect for you still; BUT I have enough compassion to spare you from shame and embarrassment.

I have patience; BUT I don’t have tolerance for STUPIDITY.

Now back to ‘The Thin Red Line’. If you are not familiar with ‘Lex Talionis’, it’s simply ‘The Law Of Retaliation’ in English. Like I said before, whatever two pence worth you give, you’ll get two pence back what you’re worth. And if you elect to thread upon the limit of my demarcation, you will suffer an irreparable impact of your indiscretion.

Life is all about choices. I wouldn’t run to your mum if I were you. She might fall sick and then like you always did, you will conveniently blame it on Ziehan. Before you allow yourself to be immersed by your egotistical appetite, just remember that I am not asking for much here. If you could humble yourself to Ziehan in any manner that you deem fit, I will not pursue my promise of retaliation.

I owe you no apology just yet; but if I had offended John, you only have yourself to be blamed. Nonetheless, please convey my apology to him. I meant him no disrespect – and you know that.

There is an oasis of joy and a fountain of happiness within us all: it is in our mind, our hearts, the tenderness we bring to our lives and the lives of people we love. When we learn to tap this source, we will truly have defeated rage and fury.

It remains my wish now that you don’t fuck up the options before you, OR you will have none whatsoever to feel sorry for in the near future.

"To Be; Or Not To Be..."

2007-01-04T03:47:00.000+08:00

“She who is unable to live in a society, or who has no need because she is sufficient for herself, must be either a beast or a GOD." – Unknown

Our society is run by insane people for insane objectives. I think we're being run by maniacs for maniacal ends and I think I'm liable to be put away as insane for expressing that. That's what's insane about it.

We habitually erect a barrier called ‘blame’ that keeps us from communicating genuinely with others, and we fortify it with our concepts of who's right and who's wrong. We do that with the people who are closest to us and we do it with such neglects, with all kinds of things that we don't like about our family, friends or our society. It is a very common, ancient, well-perfected device for trying to feel better. Blame others. Blaming is a way to protect your heart, trying to protect what is soft and open and tender in yourself. Rather than own that pain, we scramble to find some comfortable ground. Suppose we were able to share meanings freely without a compulsive urge to impose our view or conform to those of others and without distortion and self-deception. Would this not constitute a real revolution in culture? Deception is another matter, and sometimes we have reason to object to it, though sometimes we have no business knowing the truth, even about how someone really feels about us. We don't want to tell people what we think of them, and we don't want to hear from them what they think of us, though we are happy to surmise their thoughts and feelings, and to have them surmise ours, at least up to a point. Compassionate action starts with seeing yourself when you start to make yourself right and when you start to make yourself wrong. At that point you could just contemplate the fact that there is a larger alternative to either of those, a more tender, shaky kind of place where you could live.

Do I ever despair? Yes. It pains me sometimes to see our lack of moral sensitivity and graces. We have the tendency to take one another for granted; we are sometimes too engrossed in our pursuit of the insignificance to look out for one another. It really costs nothing to be happy for others.

If we can inculcate in our society the sense that we are all vulnerable and that we must all listen and reach out, we will be so much better off. And when we can all reach out in compassion and empathy, not only will you light up the life of another person, you will light up the whole world.

Our selfishness remains the root of all the animosities and conflicts. We often want and covet things, even those that do not belong to us. We can also be self-centered, we sometimes think ourselves better than and more superior to others. We cannot tolerate opinions different from ours.

Jealousy and ego breed hatred that can lead many to take misguided courses of actions. To attain peace, we only have to ask ourselves this question. Have we tried hard enough to cultivate compassion, magnanimity and respect for others?

People can have different points of views and opinions, but we have to be bound by a similar agenda to address certain issues. No matter how conflicting the opinions may be, it is imperative to remind ourselves that every matter of personal opinion has its own fair values.

Being human, I sometimes feel sad too, because a lot of the pain and resentment I see is self-inflicted. If we are truly sincere with our need to help others, we must give each other space and practice understanding and tolerance.

I despair when people can’t seem to accept or appreciate others who do not share the same opinions. We may not agree but we have to learn to respect – it is very important. We don’t have to hate them or look down on others because they think differently.

The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of GOD in my life. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our faith in ‘QADAK Dan QADAR’ ...I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you ...we are in charge of our desires, our needs and all of our flawed judgment. One has no need to be told that God's presence is not the place in which to stand on one's dignity. No matter how proud we may be of ourselves, let us not stand too tall, or draw ourselves to its full height, or throw back our head and shoulders and say with every part of our bodies “I am better, bigger and more important than anybody.” If it is worth and substance in life that we pray for, then we should sacrifice half our height and bow down before GOD in deepest reverence.

I know it’s easier said than done. I myself have this annoying tendencies to micro analyze small problem into smaller fractions. Especially when my rights are compromised and my privacy violated, it’s much easier for me to say FUCK YOU than to feel sorry. Remember… I am only human, I sometimes feel sad too.

If it ain't in mine, then 'UPYOURASS'

2006-12-22T21:52:00.000+08:00

It's like walking into a dark room and turning on the lights only to realize the room was always there. It was either forgotten or forbidden. Inside this room are the bits and pieces of your past and present. Some are in neat piles while others have just been randomly tossed inside. It becomes a matter of deciding where to start your search.

My search started years ago when trying to find myself. A series of events triggered the need to know more about myself and the world and how I fit into the bigger picture of life. Along the path I met up with a few demons that decided to stick along for the ride. It wasn't until recently I had the revelation possibly brought on by a guardian angel (Bruce) I assuredly assumed long ago had abandoned me. He was always there but I chose to listen to my demons.

If you've never wrestled with a demon you don't realize how clever and comforting they can be. They can schmooze even the best of us because they know our weaknesses. When you feel alone in the world they are there to tell you it's okay because they are there and you don't need anyone else. It was the others who led you into despair in the first place.

They have names, these demons.

Guilt, the one that makes sure you believe that you have done everything wrong and are the source of other's pain.

Abandonment, the one that lets you know that others will leave you when you need them and he will be the only one to stay.

Fear, the one that makes sure you don't exceed in the pursuit of happiness.

Anger, she's the one that helps Repression and Hopelessness like a pack of adolescent girls that look for a victim.

Apathy, who makes sure you stop caring, he also hangs out with Hopelessness.

Paranoia, is a goddess in her own right but the rest of the group can easily egg her on. Paranoia shacked up with Self Esteem and they gave birth to Self Loathing.

It's a tight knit community that resides within you.

On the outskirts the lesser angels try their best to instill some sense of balance. Joy has made it across the border a few times but was escorted out. Wit has a good relationship with Sarcasm and can freely move between the lines. Fortitude tries desperately to converse with Hopelessness while Forgiveness battles daily with Atonement.

It was only recently when I found that room and stumbled inside. I was taken aback by its contents. Histories stacked high and labeled with the reminders of past memories both good and bad. Slips of memories with abstruse bits of information lay here and there waiting to offer a small clue. I consolidated myself and started to piece together the puzzle that became my life.

The metaphor of the hidden room was the best analogy I could come up with, one that could possibly be the most viable to relate to by other friends and relatives suffering from bruise, lost and loose identity. You see, sometimes it takes a slap from reality to make you wake up and remember that you are alive. That slap came in the form of a betrayal of trust while Ziehan and I were both cruising in our quest for happiness. I was faced with the reality that I am a victim. An admission that is still hard to justify but must be dealt with if I'm ever going to heal my heart and soul.

I am puzzled. Where's the anger, tears and blood I expected to see? The anger is probably there but the tears I won't share, they are mine and mine alone; and it shall remain our unexpressed grief. We must finally admit we are not to blame, there is no shame, we are stronger than we think and our self-imposed prison can be boarded up and left vacant.

Revelation leads to confession and admission. It is the forbearance to rationally and realistically take control of your life and establish livable goals. How does one do that when they've lost their identity?

I really couldn't do anything right - could I? I still can't. I don't need to be yelled at or scolded, I need to be talked to and understood. I need to be allowed my opinions and beliefs and thoughts.

It is okay to brag about your love, your life, your joy and your happiness once in a while, it's not putting on airs or showing off. It's a matter of being proud of accomplishment no matter how small. Maybe if my drawings were hung on the fridge or the wall I may have not become so critical of my art and myself.

I'm not doing something stupidly and if I make a mistake it's mine to make and learn from.

I don't believe hypocrisy has the solemn rights to God.

I don't need to feel bad that I don't get along with hypocrites; you are an absent relative and I do not have to reconcile with pretentious friend too.

I don't think I can ever be 'normal' because I don't know what it is, I can be non-conformist and be happy with that.

I will amount to something but for myself and not others.

I choose to appear cool and indifferent, check my feelings at the door and pretend I don't care at times because when you open yourself up, the ones who manipulate and prey on weakness easily can victimize you.

I hate labels and people who feel the need to decide how others should live their lives when they are just as messed up.

I hate being told that trying to find happiness for myself is selfish because others depend on me.

I'm tired of hurting physically, spiritually but mostly emotionally. It's exhausting.

There!! I got a few things out and released into the vast openness of the universe. Whose ears they fall upon really doesn't matter because they are free. They are out of me now.

I didn't have the worst childhood. I had fun and did kid things but I spent the first 16 years having to become an adult at some point. I may have a few dirty indulgence without feeling guilty especially in my own home. I know smoking is bad but I'll quit when I'm damn well ready.

I know now that I'm not insane, as I've suspected. Yes, I suffer from frustration but that too will be controlled and maybe even conquered. I will take small steps and overcome the demons. Some will be difficult but the others already seem smaller and weaker. I will ask for help when I need it and not feel like I have all the world's problems at my feet waiting to be solved by me.

I will establish my own personal bill of rights. I will design my own flag and wave it proudly. I will go to battle and not be taken prisoner again because my eyes are open and I have magical super powers that will defeat my enemy.

I am incorruptible.

I am strong.

I am resolute.

I am happy.

I am worthy.

I am compassionate.

I am a good husband.

I am a good son.

I am a good person.

I am.

Color Me Bad

2006-12-20T04:33:00.000+08:00

We all know that purple is not a primary color. It does not possess a property, quality or ‘passion’ of color by which it can be perceived as its own product. The color is a product of mix and match, and the absence of its own hue makes the color lacks ‘brightness’. A color is a color by its hue; but if it’s made of only ‘hue and cry’, the passion and the character of its color is but a somber hue.

So you do not write to GOD. So you do not play board game. And by your own admission, you are also stupid. So how the F***K is that my problem!! I couldn’t have agreed more with your dad (may Allah blessed his soul) – “if you have nothing intelligent to say, you better not say anything at all.” Unfortunately, you pay no heed to good and priceless advice. You should have listened more to him than to yourself.

Some people are wise, and some people are otherwise. There is a difference between wisdom and stupidity you know. Just so that you understand, wise men talk because they have something to say; fools like you, because they have to say something. In your futile attempt to absolve yourself against any wrong, you rattled and rambled so incoherently. What a tangled web you weaved, when you practice just to deceive. For quite a while you sounded like you are one third of “The Three Stooges.” All said and done, you stopped short of addressing the issue that is central to Ziehan’s entry dated 13nth Dec 2006. Denial is the first access to the truth, and the absence of which constitutes a clear admission of guilt.

If you had read Ziehan’s entry with a clear conscience, you would not have rambled like an idiot. Under normal circumstances, I don’t make it my practice to argue with idiots. They have this natural ability to drag you down to their level and beat you with experience. When you tried so hard to be smart and act innocent all at the same time, what was visible for all to see was the two fools in you collide. It is the nature of guilt to make people lie and cheat, to hide the truth to their very best, to cut all friendships and enmities to the measure of their own interest, and to make a good countenance without the help of good will. If there is any vestige of humility, come clean, come good and liberate yourself from that ‘The Temple Of Your Doom’ – you are no High Priest.

I know that I am not your only friend. Perhaps I never was. The rights to express one’s self in one’s own space is our liberty that we do not surrender under any circumstances. In this regard, I beg to agree with you in totality. BUT other than that, you are a load of nonsense. Ziehan have said before that we have no qualms about people coming in and out of our space. A matter of fact, we have people from far and away who frequented us like an honorary patron. They are so religious that they even vowed to patronize us until they drop and die. It’s a free world – of course there is nothing criminal about reading. But what do you call those who intruded upon us with mischief in mind? Those that hide behind their keyboard, impersonating an identity to operate malice and disparaging comments? Have I not take my critics well? I could have deleted all the disparaging comments and banned the IP addresses – but I did not. Sometimes, some things make beautiful telling; it adds a dash of color to a page. But when one continues to transgress beyond the bounds of propriety with an absolute disregard for ethics, you compromised with the limit of our tolerance.

You must have had a ball of a time thinking that I will not respond to you. Here, not only will I respond to you, I will also compartmentalize the issue in question. Please know that you shall never have the last say, and for as long as you are the merchant of that insidious character; and for all that ill intent that you tried to inflict upon Ziehan and I, I will not spare you the privilege of tact and diplomacy.

And then you professed your love for your friends and questioned my loyalty for them. You even asked if I have any friends at all. If you must know, I have more friends in my life than you could ever have life in your friends. If it's hard for you to comprehend the context of this sentence, all you need to do is ‘semak 2’ your mailbox, refer to the email that you sent to Klaz dated 17 Aug 2006, where with a callous indifference you called your friends ‘mayat mayat yang bernyawa’. Hence I will say it again - I have more friends in my life than you could ever have life in your friends. In your own wonderful world, you are your own beautiful people. There is this smugness about you that leaves me with enough to believe that you are an incorrigible narcissist.

I have never pushed my friends aside like you have suggested, and I certainly don’t intend to. Why should I? The value and respect that I have for them is priceless. It’s only you that I have little concession for if not none at all. While it’s true that I sometimes took a swipe at Klaz, I have nothing against them at all. I do not hide behind my keyboard nor do I mince my words. But there was never and occasion that I wrote about Klaz making inferences in a derogatory form. Where and when credit is due, I also wrote a tribute to Klaz. So just do not make a mention about something that you think you can conveniently use to champion and facilitate your own course. It must have been painful enough an experience for you to be stabbed in the back by some friends. For all its intent and purpose, they must have a very good reason for that. Whether or not you deserved it of course is another question. If you love me still like you said you do, you are going to love me even more as a friend now – because today I will stab you in the front. In the word of Oscar Wide “A true friend stabs you in the front.”

Now that you have said enough to painfully demonstrate at length to convince others if not yourself that purple is virtue, you might want to walk with me down memory lane and slap yourself in the face – left, right and center!

Before you want to adjudge others, let us go through these chronicle of events and together we evaluate its fair values.

The Rise And Fall Of Klaz 78:

31st May 2005 – Was it not you who wrote in Klaz website “I being myself, looking at it from my point of view, see myself building the bridge and closing the gap of the missing years since 1978

“For me, this is a brand new friendship, found and brought home by……………………., something I never experience while I was in school”

30th Dec 2005 – Was it not you who also wrote to Klaz “As moderator and owner of this group, I have decided base on my judgement, to disintegrate this Klaz78 effective 10 Jan 2006…………………… 27 years ago, in school I hardly knew any one of you, and it sadden me today, as I am leaving this Klaz, that I do not not any one of you any better. But that is the choices that I have made…………….. If I do not hear from anybody, I will continue to delete and disintegrate Klaz78.”

6th Jan 2006 – you celebrated your decision to disintegrate Klaz with an email captioned “yeahhhhh….!!!” And you rejoiced your decision to disintegrate Klaz with a threat of a countdown. And was it not you who wrote… “the countdown just begun.”

Crisis Management:

You tried to mediate a crisis between Ziehan and Dinz. You made us all believed that you have the principal, conviction, respectability and impartiality of a good leader. For a moment you assumed that responsibility well enough. Was it not you who wrote….

20th Sept 2005 – “….kita tegur menegur biar lah dengan baik,,,dan perkara perkara private kita cakapkan ajer kat talipon, ...call...!!!kata korang semua mengaku kawan....”

In a strange twist of event, you did not observe that same decorum. Was it not you who also wrote….

4th Jan 2006 – “pd Lisa Mose & Azizah ni saya nak beritau...tak perlu bermanis manis di hadapan saya, perbuatan kamu membuat saya mual & muak peri laku kamu tidak seindah bicara kamu manis kamu cuma di tepi bibir………… Din, kalau nak tambah, jgn tambah sikit sikit....nak tambah banyak banyak lagi baguss....kita semua dah banyak berdosa. pd diri sendiri jgn di tambah tambah lagi berdosa ngan org lain hitung dan conggak sendiri tepuk dada tanya buah dada jgn nak kental buah cherri.………… dan email ni jgn kamu semua sebar satu Klaz....”

Question: If it was not meant for Klaz but you sent to most, what the hell were you talking about?

The Day I Lost All Respect For You:

25th April 2006 - Klaz was shocked by the news of a death. A friend’s father in-law passed away and the following SMS messages ensued. Was it not you who wrote…

You: “Dear all, pls do not ask me to
1) sampaikan salam
2) sampaikan takziah
3) kirim kirim selawat
4) go to the funeral with u. Bcosam not going. U can ctc azizah”

Me: “Dear all, if we don’t have what it takes to do what is morally right, just stop behaving like an adult with the trappings of a 6 years old mentality. Salam sejahtera untuk semua.”

You: “U sending tis 2 all? Or jus to me? Or u want me to forward tis on yr behalf too? U pun mcm azizah juga? Kata u all kengkawan, apasal tak simpan kawan2 nyer nbrs?”

Me: “Not to worry… I have all their numbers. It’s the need to be petty that I don’t have. If comparing me to Azizah is a compliment, then I accept it with thanx. But if you have an idea that is otherwise, lets muhasabah diri masing2.”

You: “I state my mind clear to all. I dun want to be answering to evri queries, which I dun hv time to answer, and on the 1st place am forwarding cos azizah your gud fren, ask for my help. And wattaF* I get? Well, only got myself to blame, shd ask her to tell evri1 herself. Btw, what is morally rite? U care2 xplain?”

Me: “Of course I care to explain BUT only to those that care to listen. Which attributes in my opinion you do not possess.”

You: “ Ya u r rite, I dun pocess yr attribution, n I dun hv time to listen to insult aft months of not talking to anyone fm k78. I only do what is rite for me. Perhaps u can teach yr other friends those attributions so they’ll turn out fine jus like u. Count me out.

Me: “I find it rather strange that you consider teguran yang baik as an insult. Especially when I did not use the term F** like u did. I don’t have to teach anyone to share my attributes. I will leave the teaching to the teachers and the F***ing to the F***ers. And that need not necessarily be us.”

The Crux Of The Matters

Was it not you who called on Ziehan during the early period of my relationship with her to warn her about me? How do you qualify yourself to tell someone whom you knew not about someone else whom you knew not either? If it was just by words of mouth that you knew me, what does that make you?

Was it not you who wrote just recently “Pi sanjung orang orang yg terdekat...lagi baik.…….. Aku doa kan kebahagian kau lagiii arrr..Mana kau tau, tu semua? Kau nak mabuk bercinta, kau punya sukalah, bagus lah tu...”

Question: How can you try to prevent a relationship and be happy for us at the same time? You must be absolutely mental to think that I am the one who are confused.

Finally, the matter that matters most – Was it not you who just recently established communication with someone whom you know not just so that you can play a cameo role in a crisis that didn’t even involve you.

Now that I’m done, you can go seek solace in GOD or bleed to death. Somewhere, somehow if someone were to ask me “WHY”, I will answer with a deep feeling of regret, because “YOU ASK FOR IT”.

MONO-POLY-Gamy (The New Game)

2006-12-10T00:48:00.000+08:00

MONO-POLY-GAMY is a game designed to help those with an inquisitive mind to stay relevant to the issues revolving around Jack and his Mistresses Of The Seven Seas. The game is not without its objective. The ideal of the plot is to play for the spoils of the points. All can play the game; but only one to win. You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don’t try. This game was specifically designed to bring to your system - cost-free. You only need to have two dice and a functional brain. If you are a great believer in luck, you will find that the harder you try, the more you will have of it. If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again. Then quit. No sense in being a damn fool in trying to win a game that you cannot rule.

About MONO-POLY-GAMY:

Jack Of The Seven Seas (herein refers to as Capt. Jack Sparrow) is the infamous Buccaneer who preyed the Seven Seas with such a predatory instinct during the early millennium era. His reign of terror soon found an ally in the form of a holy alliance with ‘Mary Of Romania’ (herein affectionately known as Mary Jazz) and ‘Ziehan Of The Caribbean’ (herein affectionately known as EZie Jazz). Between them they share an unequivocal vow of loyalty to preserve and to protect the sovereignty of their ‘Union’. Sworn to secrecy, both ‘Mary Of Romania’ and ‘Ziehan Of The Caribbean’ are the keepers of his faith and hold the keys to “The Secret Of The Black Pearl” and “The Dead Man’s Chest” respectively.

For the love of his Mistresses Of The Seven Seas, Capt. Jack suffers no fools and refuses to be taken prisoner by the jury of public opinion and the noisy convention of discontent. Capt. Jack rules his kingdoms and territories by proxies. He lives happy and loves unselfishly within the wilderness of the Seven Seas whether or not he ever sets foot in it. The wilderness where he seeks refuge even though he may never need to go there… He needs the possibility of escape as surely as he needs hope. Why wilderness? Because he likes the taste of freedom; because he likes the smell of danger. His only regret is that he has but one life to lose for two women.

A tide begins to surge beneath the calm surface of the ground that he walks on. The world soon hastens him toward he know not what, viewing him with contempt. Jack being Jack, he holds his nerve by a simple mantra… that he is “Jack of all trade; master of his own fate”.

In this game, Capt. Jack Sparrow will play for the spoils of the points. He will attempt to build a firm foundation from the bricks that others throw at him. This game of wills and wits both start out the same way. It may not necessarily be about winning; but practice makes perfect. The more you sweat in practice, the less you bleed in battle. Just play the game as you deem fit and fun, but do observe the first rule of holes: when you’re in one, stop digging.

System Requirement:

A fully functional brain, two dice and a ‘Window ME’.

Who Can Play The Game:

Sisters, uncles, aunties, cousins, cousin in-law, police officers, friends, in-laws, outlaws, all the king’s horses and all the king’s men.

The game can be played at any time of your convenience until such time I cease the operation of this website or until such time that you drop dead. Whichever comes first.

Board Configuration:

The game is played on an imaginary board of four equal sides. By 4-equal sides it means that the board is made up of a square – NOT circular, NOT rectangular, NOT triangular either. Just a square and nothing but a square…get it??

The dimension of the board varies according to the size of your own ego. It can be as small as any concrete cubicle that many of us live in, or as big as Jupiter - whatsoever you desire.

There are only two playable sides of the board. Now these playable sides are called ‘The Axis Of Evils’. Each side of this axis has its own battleground. Players can chose to launch or plot an invasion of privacy from either side of 'The Axis Of Evils'. Each side of this axis is known as:-

1. “Whose Line Is It Anyway”
2. “Chain Of Fools”

The non-playable sides are the so-called kingdoms that Capt. Jack rules by proxies. Herein will be referred to as “The Scent and Sensibilities Of Mary Jazz” and “The Sweet Fragrant Meadows Of EZie Jazz”. The sovereign right to which belongs to ‘Mary Of Romania’ and ‘Ziehan Of The Caribbean’ respectively.

The ‘Axis Of Evils’ must coordinate a position that is adjacent to each other by a 90deg angle. Once you have established this coordinated position, the rest of the board shall belong to ‘Mary Of Romania’ and ‘Ziehan Of The Caribbean’ and remain non-playable unless otherwise required by the rules of the game.

Central to the game, players must also play for the control of the center of the board where ‘The Sevens Seas’ are located. Dominion of which belongs to Capt. Jack Sparrow also known as “Jack Of The Seven Seas”. With only Capt. Jack to play against, it is imperative that players remember the name of all the seven seas. They are namely:-

1. SEA no evil, speak no evil.
2. SEA no touch.
3. SEAshell SEAshell at the SEA saw.
4. SEA so low at SEA lo soh.
5. SEA mie tai chi.
6. SEA buay siong.
7. lu kong SEA mie

The board also consists of four hemispheres located at the four corners of it. These hemispheres are known as :-

1. GO - This game of wills and wits both start out the same way. At every turn of this corner of the board players qualify for themselves 200 points.

2. DOMINION Of The Republic Of MOTHERland – This is about the only corner of the playable board that players can rule to dominate and manipulate.

3. THE PIRATE’S DUNGEON (also known as The Concrete Cubicle) – Players must play to avoid incarceration. If you are condemned by some strokes of misfortunes, you will eat, shit and die in here.

4. ROT OF THE LINKS – Do not confuse ROT OF THE LINKS with “Lord Of The Rings”. In the latter, the plot is for heroics. This corner of the board however will house all of the rotten links of the two “Axis Of Evils”. Herein they will be referred to as “Resident Evil”. In here, you will eat, shit, die and burn in hell.

The Objective Of The Game:

Other than the spoils of the points, the wills and wits of the game is to play PIRACY versus consPIRACY. Capt. Jack will play for PIRACY and leave the business of consPIRACY to the open board. You will have to notice that the difference that separates these two words is the word ‘cons’. In this game you will have to be as proud a conmen or conwomen as Jack will be as a pirate. The similarity between these nouns does not represent a similar meaning though. You do not call one who conspires a ‘conspirate’ – Do you?

Rules Of The Game will feature in the next entry.

To Be Continued….

"Shape Of My Heart"

2006-12-04T15:34:00.000+08:00

Continue from "Under Your Tree I Sit..." (20th October 2006)...

For it was not into my ear she whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips she kissed, but my soul. The moment you have in your heart this extraordinary thing called love and feel the depth, the delight, the ecstasy of it, you will discover that for you the world is transformed. Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; loving someone deeply gives you courage. Only then will you discover as you look back upon your life that the moments when you have truly lived are the moments when you have done things in the spirit of love. And if only there were in the world today any large number of people who desired their own happiness more than they desired the unhappiness of others, we could have a paradise right here, right now.

I don’t keep my love for Ziehan a secret - marriage maybe. There are no secrets better kept than the secrets that everybody guesses. To them that you tell your secret you resign your liberty. If we all believe in the freedom of right, then these rights are as much ours as it is yours, or any other men on the street, or any other women on my bed. People demand freedom of expression as a compensation for the freedom of thought, which they seldom use. One of the most important-and most neglected-elements in the beginning of the interior life is the ability to respond to reality, to see the value and the beauty in ordinary things, to come alive to the splendor of love that is all around us.

Our brightest blazes of happiness and joy are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks. No matter how sedentary a life one may live, love can persuade its course deep within the hollow chamber of one’s heart. When Ziehan found her way in mine, I allowed her warmth to illuminate my life and engulf my spirit. We have since discovered that we have enough chemistry between us to combust an eternal flame; and the energy from which has a way of pushing out the real soreness of feeling betrayed to the rugged realities of the world and some of the closest people around us. Being our own torchbearer, it seemed to be a handy response to dodge the tough things for which there are no simple or comforting answers. Our faith acknowledges that no two people think, believe, feel, or encounter life in the same way. Those who are disciplined, for whatever reason, to conform to a single commonly held creed seek their own truthful ways to live and love. We give our approval and seek acceptance because it is validating. It frees us to become our best selves. It is our very differences that make it necessary to practice acceptance toward one another.

Twenty-seven years are long enough a time to wait. And we will continue to wait with such obedience to GOD. Whatever it is that we are waiting for - peace of mind, contentment, grace, the inner awareness of simple abundance - it will surely come to us, and when it reaches out for us, we are ready to receive it with an open and grateful heart. With each passing day, I didn't lose hope. I fought to have more. In the meantime, we shall never pawn the ownership of our happiness to the mercy and whims of those who cannot find patronage to our course. We refused to be fashioned by the network of opinions of a small-complicated and confused society whose sole intent is to reduce us to nothing better than a flock of timid souls, of which they will become our shepherd. Ziehan and I would rather die on our feet than to live on our knees!

Just last week I received a letter from The High Council of The Higher Kingdom. Bruce and I share a paradoxical view in regard to the secret of a good marriage: That all good marriage is a secret – That’s the secret. And like I said before, I don’t keep my love for Ziehan a secret - marriage maybe. There are no secrets better kept than the secrets that everybody guesses. And if your guess is as good as mine, I guess my marriage is better than yours. Why not??

To Be Continued….

"Heaven Knows"

2006-11-30T05:58:00.000+08:00

To The Pirate Of The Caribbean
The Master Of His Own Fate
The captain Of His Own Soul
O’ Captain My Captain

Bcc: Ziehan Adnan

Private And Confidential

Dear Jack,

Your letter ref: “Signed, Sealed – Delivered” dated the 24th day of the Eleventh Month in the year of the Holy Lord 2006 noted with thanks. By the grace of my Master, I have been vested with the authority and liberty of an executive power to respond to you accordingly.

I do not feel obliged to believe that the same GOD who has endowed mankind with sense, reason, and intellect has intended them to forgo their use. They who pretended to be intellectual are constantly betrayed by their vanities. More often, they blandly assume that honor, duty and right can best be expressed in words; whereas the things one loves, lives and dies for are not.

There is but one rule of conduct for a man to do the right thing. The cost may be dear in money, in friends, in the circle of your families, in a prolonged and painful sacrifice, but the cost not to do right is far more dear: You pay in the integrity of your manhood, in your honor, in strength of character; and, for a timely gain, you barter the infinite.

Do not despair Jack. The right of prayers is always yours to make; and the answer to which is his in entirety to grant. You may not have gone where you intended to go, but I think you have ended up where He intended you to be. If you continue to live by His commands and love by your wills, you will then know which bridge to cross and which to burn.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
Just live your life according to plan,

Pursue it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet,
His light will shine your darkest day.

You are a very brave man to speak to GOD of your anger Mr. Sparrow. I personally find you to be a man of intriguing sense of humor. No one writes to GOD but you. That’s quite naughty you know. But then again, we all know that “All work and no play will make Jack a dull boy.”

In a matter pertaining to marriage, GOD has never once outlawed it. A matrimonial vow is a union of faith between two loves. Meaning to say that it matters only to the two that matter. There is an obvious difference between ‘blessing’ and ‘consent.’ A ‘blessing’ is a consent one should seek from GOD. And ‘consent’ is a blessing that one is compelled to seek from six billions other people. Love must and should be celebrated in all its ‘Sense And Sensibilities’. Only then the sacred vow can harvest joy and happiness ad infinitum. By any other name, anything otherwise simply becomes ‘Walimatul Urus’. Of course there is nothing wrong with this. It’s just like any other ‘reunion’. If you’ve been to one lately, you should know what I’m talking about. There is only one secret to a happy marriage Mr. Sparrow. Do you want to know what it is? Come to think of it, I better not Jack. If I were to tell you, it would no longer be a secret – would it? Do not allow yourself to be persuaded by false pretexts Jack. Black has always been black and ‘purple’ has never been a new white. If GOD were to create mankind and make them only to believe and not allowed to think, I think He would rather create extra monkeys – wouldn’t He? We all have to believe in him as a Master Creator Jack. He doesn’t have to cross breed a black horse to a white one to create a zebra – does He?

Human Beings must be known to be loved; but Divine Being must be loved to be known. In an ideal world, ‘ONDE’ and ‘Goreng Pisang’ are best served HOT – Right Jack? Trust me O’ Captain My Captain, we have just the right place here – it’s called HELL. BOY will they fry in there!!

So the world is in turmoil. So what else is new Jack? We are too well aware of that. History will teach you about the two Wrights (The Wright Brothers) that made an aeroplane. But two wrongs still do not make a right Jack – Right Jack? In Hollywood they created men almost Godlike. They made a pirate out of you and then there was “Superman” and then there was “Darth Vader” and then there were all the “Jedis” and then there was “Spiderman” and then there were “X Men”. When all these characters possess an extraordinary out of the world super power, we don’t expect GOD to be entertained – Do we? Didn’t the world know of the impact of His wrath? Didn’t the world watch the movie “The Day After Tomorrow”? And then technology put a ‘soft ware’ in a ‘hard disk’; and when everything else become ‘MICROSOFT’; they called it computer. But when seven bearded men sit in an assembly of GOD, they are known as Al-Qaedah. The trouble with people nowadays is that they underestimate the power of simplicity. They have a tendency it seems to over complicate their lives and forget what's important and what's not. They tend to mistake intention for attention. They tend to mistake bad comment for intelligent question. They tend to mistake interference for duty. They tend to focus on cultures instead of ‘Hukum’. And as the pace of life continues to race along, they bestowed an executive right to make pretty upon themselves as “The Bold And The Beautiful”.

As a matter of Divine advice Jack, never allow anyone to rain on your parade and thus cast a pall of gloom and defeat on the entire day. Remember that no talent, no self-denial, no brains, no character, are required to set up in the fault-finding business. Nothing external can have any power over you unless you permit it. Your time is too precious to be sacrificed in wasted days combating the menial forces of hate, jealousy, and envy. Guard your fragile life carefully. Only God can shape a flower, but any foolish child can pull it to pieces. There are many paths to the top of the mountain, but only one view. Thus there is no glory in conquering its height. Patience is virtue Jack; and all good things will come to he who believes.

Once again Jack, if you do not intend to incur the wraths of GOD, just do not over indulge yourself on all those Hollywood craps. They can be very misleading you know. By the way, is there going to be a sequel to “The Dead Man’s Chest”? I can’t wait to watch it. Till later okay.

Yours Truly,

Bruce Almighty

"Signed, Sealed - Delivered"

2006-11-24T07:53:00.000+08:00

To The Most Benevolent,
The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful,

Private And Confidential

Dear GOD,

Forgive me for I have sinned. So I heard that you do not listen to my prayers anymore. Hence I am left with a limited recourse but to write to you. As I humble myself before your most esteemed authority, I seek a moment of your time for your most divine guidance.

Many people hold onto a grudge because it offers the illusion of power and a perverse feeling of victory. But in fact, we are all held hostage by our anger. If it is up to you, it is always never too late to forgive. But I can’t forgive too soon though none have sought for one. I am especially wary of those who hide behind the cover of their veil believing themselves to be the keeper of your holy scroll.

Sir, the whole world is in turmoil. I do know for a fact that you created the universe with a promise of its impending doom (KIAMAT). But you did not create only to rejoice your promise of its impending doom with a countdown – did you? If black is black and ‘PURPLE’ is the new white, how come I was never taught of this. Tell me O’ GOD that you have not ordained among us a new prophet.

Confusing as it was, it gets more complicated by the day. When you created monkeys and they made a monkey out of themselves, they are only too happy to be monkeys – Right? The fact that they are not endowed with brains, its fair then to assume that it’s their monkey business – Right? How then do you best explain those that you beautifully created among us, blessed them with the faculty of mind; and then only to become ‘ONDE’ and ‘Goreng Pisang’. Between you and I, we know the difference between bigamy and polygamy. You didn’t by any chance outlaw marriage – Did you Sir? Because if marriage is outlawed, then only outlaws will have in-laws. And I will have many unhappy ones.

I also just realized today that my late grandma was a philanthropist. She bequeathed a computer operating on a window ME to a pathetic loser long before she passed in 1819. Thanks to her, ‘ONDE’ is now operating on a ‘chip from the old block’; which happens to be a portal of a government department; which happens to be a misused; which if I happen to pursue my interest through the right authority; whatever can happen will happen.

Reason to rule but mercy to forgive: The first is the law, the last prerogative. Premature forgiveness is common among people to avoid conflict. I am not an advocate of hatred but I am afraid of my own anger. As your obedient servant, I will make beautiful what I love as I make holy what I believe. Just bless upon me the perseverance to endure and the endurance to persevere.

I hope that this letter reaches you in the strictest of confidence. Inevitably, I took the liberty to classify this letter as Private and Confidential to avoid those with literate deficiency from accusing me of writing to impress you.

Out of the night in the deepest sea,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever God gave me

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeoning of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Lies but the horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how soon or late,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul

Yours truly,

Capt. Jack Sparrow

P/S If you happen to see my mum, give her my regards and send her my love. And please tell my Grandma that Microsoft had just launched a new WINDOW. It’s called ‘WONDE ME’.

Sing A Song Of 'SONGSANG'

2006-11-22T18:01:00.000+08:00

I was watching “SEINFELD” the other night when something he said caught my attention. The ambivalence of having to chose the importance between the present and the future.

He said “I was in the drug store the other day trying to get a cold medication...Note easy. There's an entire wall of products you need. You stand there going, Well, this one is quick acting but this is long lasting... Which is more important, the present or the future?”

Not that it was hilarious but the question was made wittingly perplexing. To me, what distinguishes one from the other is our dreams, whether they be dreams about worldly or unworldly things, and what we do to make them come about. In pursuit of these dreams, there are of course things that we do not choose… We do not choose to be born. We do not choose our parents. We do not choose our historical epoch, the country of our birth, or the immediate circumstances of our upbringing. We do not, most of us choose to die; nor do we choose the time and conditions of our death. But within this realm of choicelessness, we do choose how we live and love.

We cut these numerous windings in our destinies daily with our own hands, while we imagine that we are pursuing a track on the royal high road of respectability and duty, and then complain of those ways being so intricate and so dark. Do we stand bewildered before the mystery of our own making, and the riddles of life that we will not solve, and then accuse the FATE of devouring us?

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself...Any direction you choose.

Now back to the importance of the past, the present and the future. The difference between that when I SING a SONG and I have a SONG to SING is the difference between that of the present and the future. But when I SANG a SONG, would that make it the past or simply ‘SONGSANG’ ? Hmmm….

I do not sing to impress you nor do I do it for your listening pleasure. But if you do not have the dancing shoes to dance to my music, just stick to your purple page.

To Better Today, To Better Tomorrow…

Ziehan Forever.

To Better TODAY; To Better 'ONDE'.

2006-11-21T03:17:00.000+08:00

Dear Kiambang Suri,

Now that we are more civil, allow me to explain.

No matter how valid or intelligent you think your question may be, that you were hiding behind ‘ONDE 2’, was it my fault that I don’t make it my habit or obligate myself to answer questions from people that I don’t even know?

I was only too aware that there were one ‘ONDE’ too many in my cbox. When one tried to be another but all for a common corrupting influence to perpetrate this site.., that made you one and all the same. We have established who these ‘ONDEs’ are. One is a friend and some are relatives. In all honesty, we don’t care. What you don’t know about us does not make me a liar.

I am saddened by the news that your mum has been sick. I find it strange though that you conveniently blame it on Ziehan for what she wrote in her blog. Far from having access into the Internet, I don’t think so that she could understand the contents of what was written or interpret that silent voice that Ziehan had long kept within her. Unless of course there is a courier service among the ‘ONDEs’. This budaya sampai-menyampai should be made your real cause for concern. If this is part of the so-called culture that you are so proud of, what you are bounded by duty does not necessarily equate to honor. Between you and I, your mum happened to be an innocent bystander caught in the line of fire. I will pray for her good health and may Allah blessed her with the fortitude to protect her against manipulation and the domineering demeanors of others.

As my consolatory gesture to you, I hope that it would appease you to know that my entry was written never with the intention to malign you. It may have been propelled by impulse but it was written with a far reaching specific to also address all the ‘ONDEs’ and all the ‘wannabes’ too. By my own terms, I called it ‘Rules Of Engagement’. Ziehan and I are not proud of what we did, but I think we did enough to refrain ourselves from using vulgarities. Get it??

If Ziehan and I were the cause of your parents’ sadness, then we do not want to exonerate ourselves against any blame. But I also have strong reasons to believe that your parents are equally sad over a lot of other things. Until you learn to respect the right of our privacy in the same manner that we have always respected yours, please do no make it your business to interfere with ours on the pretext of duty.

God is my witness; I humbled myself to your parents for keredhaan before. Whatever that transpired that day, left me pursuing for your sister’s hand in marriage. I have done all the right things for a good reason...just don’t make it so wrong for your own reason. Like I said before – what you don’t know much about does not necessarily make me a liar. Get it??

I do not intend to make this issue a bigger circus for the entertainment and amusement of those opportunistic few who seek pleasure from our altercations. I have a journey to complete and I will not yield to conduct unbecoming. May you not put yourself on a collision course with me; and I will hold my truce with a hope that all’s well ends well.

Specially for your parents, I conclude with special prayers…

“Dengan nama Allah yang maha pemurah lagi maha penyayang. Segala puji bagi Allah yang menguasai seluruh alam, yaitu puji-pujian yang menyamai segala nikmat-nya dan sebanding dengan segala tambahan-nya. Wahai Tuhan kami, bagi mu segala kepujian sebagaimana yang selayaknya dengan kebesaran zat-Mu dan dengan kebesaran kekuasaan-Mu. Ya Allah, kurniakanlah kesejateraan dan keselamatan kepada ibu dan bapa kami.

Aku bermohon kepada engkau akan kedudukan dan kesihatan mereka yang baik yang engkau ridhai; dan sesungguhnya tempatkanlah mereka dalam rombongan yang berbahagia serta mencukupi; dan kurniakan kedamaian dan kemuliaan bagi mereka dengan keredhaan engkau yang memberi manfaat.” Amin..

Assalammualaikum.

Taking an 'ONDE' at my 'OWNDAY'

2006-11-20T05:10:00.000+08:00

Being just ‘ONDE’ is one thing, being ‘ONDE 2’ is another. Wanting to be ‘ONDE’ or ‘ONDE 2’, it’s like you are spoilt for choices between being stupid and being ugly. There is not much gulf of a difference between these two. If you are born ugly but think that you are pretty, then you are STUPID. There’s no need to look at yourself in the mirror. You can’t see stupidity through it unless you really, really, really look stupid.. As stupid as stupid can be, you acted smart but rambled like an idiot…STUPID as you are, you are also UGLY. Like I said before – there’s not much gulf of a difference between these two. More often; one compliments the other, or the very least, they are comparable. That being said, nobody can change a mule into a butterfly. If you’re a mule, you’re a mule and that’s that. By these comments, if you think that I have transgressed beyond the bounds of propriety, just so that you know… I DO NOT STAND CORRECTED.

Many nights before this, I tried to comprehend one thing – how did I do you wrong? I not only use all the brains that I have, but all that I can borrow… I am still lost for answer. For fear of hating you for the wrong reasons, I don’t care to know who you are. It is not as difficult as “Finding Nemo” to find out who you are. All IP addresses are traceable with or without the help of your service provider. The issue before me is simply not trace worthy. So like I said before – for fear of hating you for the wrong reasons, I am not the least curious. I was taught too well that when curiosity does not kill a cat, it makes bad ‘pussies’ out of them. I prefer to be true to myself, even at the hazard of incurring the ridicule of others, rather than to be false, and to incur my own abhorrence. What was it that I did or wrote that touched your raw nerves to a point of menopause? Don’t you have your own life to live, love to give, land to harvest or a common cold to catch? If only you get down from that high horse of yours and walk on solid ground, you will find out soon enough that I am neither an advocate of hatred nor one to harbor an ill of grievance. What does not kill me makes me stronger. But if you chose to trample upon the rights of others to feel and express themselves in a space that doesn’t even belong to you, I don’t care if you are Mother Theresa, be that you are married to St. Peter, St. Paul, St. Luke or St. JOHN, just don’t expect me to exercise restraint. My chat box is here stay but not for the purpose to articulate and propagate your slogan of hatred.

It is better to be hated for what I am or who I am than to be loved for something or someone I am not. For the love of Ziehan, I will continue to bleed this space according to my own gospel. The bond that links my love to hers is not one of blood, but that of respect and joy in each other's life. You can’t simply muscle your way into my space and boss an issue on me. No matter how dysfunctional your estrogen may have seemed, you do not own that right to operate an opinion in here. However impervious one may be to criticisms, there is a clear distinction between constructive comments, sound faculty of reasoning and that of disparaging suggestion. There may be more hairs on your head but there are certainly more brains in mine.

Surely you must have believed in an English idiom of ‘what goes around, comes around.’ Ziehan and I believed in that too. A matter of fact, I used to think that the world was created round only for that purpose. But with people like you in it, I now believe that even if it was created square, what goes around still comes around. We all have a ghost of our own past – our very own demons, our very own shortcomings. Ziehan and I are not without one, but we were never born or raised as children of the lesser GOD. So just do not act all so virtuous and make holy of yourself what you do not preach. Unless of course with all of your virtues and none of your shortcomings, you were born THE FATHER, THE SON AND THE HOLY SISTER. If you happen to have a conscience to consult or guilt to conceal, don’t try to vindicate yourself by washing your dirty linen in here. Lest you forget, you might expose one too many dirt of your own and self inflict upon your pathetic life the pitfall of your excessive pride.

All things said and done, I will not seek for your hand for forgiveness for I did you no wrong. If by your choice you chose to berate in here and continue to sow the seed of angst, you will only harvest your own hatred. Life has a bright side and a dark side. The world of relativity is composed of lights and shadows. If I permit my thoughts to dwell on the evil of others, I will only become just as stupid and ugly. You can bask in the glory of your own pasture…after all; you seem to know the price of everything and the value of nothing.

I remember writing once before that the best years of your life are the ones in which you decide your problems are your own. You do not blame them on your mother, your committee, global warming, the cat next door, the ecology or Osama Bin Laden. As I owe my oath of office as a husband to the woman that I love so much, I will continue to love, to cherish and to protect Ziehan till the end of days. As for you, you can be an ‘ONDE’ or ‘ONDE-ONDE’ at your ‘OWNDAY’ and I will take an ‘ONDE’ at my ‘OWNDAY’… ‘ONE-DAY’ at a time. Get it??

Under Your Tree I Sit...

2006-10-20T16:35:00.000+08:00

Continue from “Love Conquers All” (3rd October 2006)….

Love is the way you look at me; the way I look back. It's a feeling people try to find, but when they are least expecting it, it finds them. Love is hard at times, but it is always there. You feel it, day in and day out. You yearn for someone more than yourself... that's love. Between Ziehan and I, we experienced it in no other different forms of essence than any man on the street. Until you make peace with who you are, you'll never be content with what you have. A rose is a rose; by any other name, the fragrant is just as sweet. There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it. Ziehan and I allowed ourselves to explore our passion beyond the conventional wisdom of love. It has never been about Valentine day, candle light dinner or a bouquet of roses. Our feelings transcend beyond that. That of which where my safe habitat is to sit under her tree; under the tranquility of which, she inhabits that kingdom in my heart. Each of us literally chooses, by our way of attending to things, we never seek to vary how we love by day; and how it should remain unchanged by night.

If I had allowed all its complexities to interfere with my sense of judgment, I will live no bigger than those pretentious fools who thought that they have it all. Call it by any other names; if love is love, then love is love indeed. There’s no need to lose one’s equilibrium. The beauty and its passion is such an experience. It is not a fixed pattern or an arrangement of features. It is something felt, a glow or a communicated sense of fineness. Only what ails us sometime is that our sense of judgment and interpretation can be so bruised and blunted, we miss all the best.

Ziehan’s beauty only captured my eyes; her personality captured only my attention, but it was her sincerity that captured my heart and conquered all. We courted each other with all that matters. Anything under the sun, everything under her tree to the kingdom from the bottom of my heart - from West Coast Park to One Fullerton, from late night phone calls to late night movies, poems and poetries, we gave each other what we felt best…We Love. Be that it was March; come April or COME WHAT MAY… no science would ever be able to reduce the value of our love to its nearest decimal arithmetic. Nor could it translate our feelings for each other into formula. Laughter and love, the challenge of joy and happiness: these will always surpass the scientific mastery of nature.

We all live in a wonderful world that is full of love, affection and adventure. There is no end to the adventures that we can have if only we seek them with our open hearts. I'm tired of all this nonsense about love being blind. If only we could behold love through the eye of the mind, that's good enough.

When Ziehan and I first met, it might have been a matter of chance. Destiny soon made it a matter of choice. After twenty-seven years in oblivion, the feeling between us is not a thing to be waited for; love is the only thing to be achieved. It’s probably the only chance to do it right. If you ever get a second chance in life to love someone like Ziehan, you've got to go all the way and journey into the beyond. Odd as it sounds, I had since sentenced myself to life with Ziehan because of what she has done for me as a human being, a man, a husband and a papa.

“Happy is the person who knows what to remember of the past, what to enjoy in the present, and what to plan for in the future” - Captain Jack Sparrow

To Be Continued….

"Untuk Mu Ibu"

2006-10-18T23:25:00.000+08:00

You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be --

I had a mother who cried with me.

Every man has his secret sorrows, which the world knows not; oftentimes we call a man cold when he is only sad. Some people believe that holding on and hanging in there are signs of great strength. However, there are times when it takes much more courage to know when to let go and then do it. Alas, I am still grieving with so much pain. I held on and hung in there once before with a believe. So what good is great strength when my only courage was merely deception born out of the great fear to let go? “All daring and courage, all iron endurance of misfortune makes for a finer and nobler type of manhood” so says an English dictum. All so true only if the pain is ours alone to suffer…so says I. As in the physical world, so in the spiritual world, I used to believe that pain does not last forever. All that change now when she left me with no mother to call out for.

For forty-four years I know not of any other hands that rocked my cradle. That very same hands that I held in mine when you sought comfort in sharing those deep dark secrets of your pain. How could I not sense your fear, how could I not fear for your pain; and how could it not pain me to feel you suffer. You taught me that death is nothing to be feared; it is merely a stage of transition. The gift of life, for all the effort and pain it involves, is too beautiful and precious for us to grow tired of it. But what’s real was those many nights I spent by your side; those nights that you agonized for a wink of sleep, those nights that we cried together because your pain was yours alone to suffer, those nights that I could do no right to ease your discomfort nor could I do no more to comfort your misery, those night that you made me promise to save you from the surgical scalpel of your impending bypass operation; and that very night – against my will, I relented. When you left the hospital, I pretended like I knew nothing of it. That you have a date with destiny, I am only too aware. I once had a hope that you could help me relived that glorious childhood; those that you cherished with so much loves, cared with so much respects and raised with so much tenderness that I never would want to outgrow. That hope now is but a broken dream. On the early Tuesday morning of 25th July 2006, just the way you had wanted it, I wasn’t there to see you off. Fearless, you embarked on your painless journey and left us all.

Some are able to release grief far more quickly than others. However long it takes, it is always the re-connection with the power of the heart that moves you past grief. It becomes a matter of how soon you want the sun to shine. Listening to the still, small voice in my heart, I still call for you Mak. Your heart is a deep abyss at the bottom of which I can always find love, forgiveness and guidance. I know not of any other mother other than you – that it was the most convenient choice of escape from the burden of your sufferings, I can only grieves in prayers that you’d be there around me at any time that I may need you most.

They say that man is mighty,

He governs land and sea;

He wields a mighty scepter

Over lesser powers that be;

But the hand that rocks my cradle

Is the hand that rules my world.

If there is one thing that we could do together now, I want to cry again with you. And if the choice was up to me, I wish I’d died before you and may God grant me a comeback as one of your tears. What son would be so lucky as to have been conceived from your heart, born in your eyes, live on your cheeks, and die at your lips. That no longer being the case now, I shall brace myself to my calling, and so bear myself that if God grants me a thousand years to live, I will still say: “I shared my finest hours with you.”

My Secret Chamber

2006-10-14T03:10:00.000+08:00

My MTV CRIB
The POLTRONA Chasis Lounge
My HALL OF FAME
Where Ez Does The JAZZ

"MONEYMATTERS" @HJH. MAIMUNAH

2006-10-12T02:41:00.000+08:00

All you can eat at $11.50 per head. Affordable? YES. Cheap? MAYBE. Worth it? I DON”T THINK SO. With all the promises you can find in the two-page menu, you’ll probably eat only half the page. I don’t care much about what I eat nowadays. Give me nothing and I’ll eat nothing. Give me a Coke with a Marlboro and I say THANK GOD. Gluttony being one of the seven sin, I don’t live to eat but simply eat to live.

With money to spend and stomach to eat, Ziehan and Mariam were women on a mission. Flanked by these two lovelies, no man could have been more decorated than me. We all planned our trip by the simple rule – He who has a ‘why’ can endure any ‘how’. On a Ramadhan evening at Geylang, amidst the swelling throng of human traffic, the idea was to eat anywhere at anyhow. But somewhere along the route across Joo Chiat Complex, “HJH. MAIMUNAH” beckoned. Ziehan and Mariam were salivating on the ‘lemak pucuk ubi’ and the ‘siput sedut.’ By then, I couldn’t do anything much. Here’s to the two women! Would that I could fall into their arms without falling into their hands.

From one of anything to all of everything that money can buy, her buffet spread promised a ‘roti kirai’ that I did not see, a ‘kueh lapis’ that I did not get to taste and a ‘bubor kacang’ that I ended up giving to one pathetic looking Mak Cik whose sole purpose there was to stare me in the face like I’m her late husband - reincarnated. Not that the $11.50 per head matters much to me. I don’t care too much for the money. It’s better to spend money like there’s no tomorrow than to spend tonight like there’s no money. But if you equate the $11.50 into simple fraction, however average a layperson this “HJH. MAIMUNAH” may be, her grasp of high finance consists of knowing the right recipes to navigate through the stomachs of the ‘Hungry Ghosts.”

Figure this out – A table for 3 @HJH. MAIMUNAH costs us a grand total of $35.00 (GST inclusive but drinks sold separately). At $11.50 per head, Ziehan would eat all that she could, and Mariam could eat all that she would. I would only eat what I could; but what I couldn’t, I wouldn’t. I am not as good a ‘coulder’ as Ziehan could, nor a better ‘woulder’ as Mariam would. But for the money that was paid, and all that we could eat between us, we were only eating the same things 3 times over; and over the same things - 3 times over. This equation however works better on bigger multiples. Meaning to say that if Ali walks in with Abu, Ah Seng, Muthu, John, Ah Kow, Ah Lian, Ah Beng, Din and Mainah, they would have to pay between them a total of $120.75 (GST inclusive but drinks still sold separately). And for this amount of money and all that they could eat between them; just like us, they would be eating the same things ONLY 10 times over; and over the same things - 10 times over. GET IT?? GET IT???

@HJH. MAIMUNAH, the festival of the hungry ghosts may have started at least forty-five minutes before the break of dusk. There goes a saying “An early bird catches the worms.” By the time we were there, they beat us to almost everything. There was no ‘roti kirai’, no ‘kueh lapis’ and of course no worms also by then. As a matter of value-for- money, whatever that these early birds could lay their hands on, to feed through their mouths for the satisfaction of their stomachs, they rush for the kill. Before the break of dusk, even the tissue papers seem delectable. It’s ironic to see how they practice enough faith to protect themselves against all sins for the day, only to liberate the moment of their victories with lustful indulgence.

Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing. Amidst the throngs of all its madness, I was there with only Ziehan and Mariam to cater to; and to provide for. The first trip may have been quite extravagant; but generosity is all about giving more than you can-to those that you care, and pride is taking less than you need. Maybe next time we’ll eat @SALMAH MANAP and buy my baju kurung @HJH. MAIMUNAH.

My Damage Report:-

Transportation (To/Fro): $50.00 (comes with free Nokia handphone)
HJH. MAIMUNAH 35.00 (GST inclusive but drinks sold separately)
Murtabak 10.00 (F**k the Mak Cik that cuts Zie’s queue)
SALMAH MANAP 100.00 (butang not included)
Vadeh 5.00 (Red Hot Chilli Pepper inclusive)
Carpet 250.00 (good to look at and nice to step on)
K800i plastic cover FREE (STOLEN)

GRAND TOTAL: $HAPPINE$$.00

Love Conquers All

2006-10-03T03:59:00.000+08:00

Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration. But for as long as you have a heart that never hardens, give unselfishly, love tirelessly with a touch that never hurts, then fear not the darkness for your candle will burn an eternal flame. There is no difficulty that enough love will not conquer; no disease that enough love will not heal; no door that enough love will not open; no gulf that enough love will not bridge; no sin that enough love will not redeem. It makes no difference how deeply seated may be the trouble; how hopeless the outlook; how muddled the tangle; how great the mistake. A sufficient realisation of love will dissolve it all. Love may hurt a little sometime, or sometime may even hurt a lot. Love is after all a fire. Whether it is going to warm your heart or burn down your house, you can never tell. But if we allow ourselves to fear the trappings of pain, then love will not conquers all. Sometime back in the early March of 2005, Ziehan and I were both struck by Cupid's arrow. It was painless...And we can swear by that.

I am a strong believer of fate. I believe that if it's meant to be, then it's destined to be. I could have been born any other man than I am right now; be that I am the "Prince Of Egypt," "Shrek, " or "The Pirate Of the Caribbean," I will live to die not sparing the highest mountain nor the deepest sea in search for she who holds the key to "The Dead Man's Chest." Like Adam, I would rather live outside the Garden Of Eden with my "Eve" than to be inside without her. We did not fall in love by a sudden burst of coincidence or by the malfunctioned polarity of gravity. As fate would have it, we fell in love according to plan as chronicled by God in his master textbook. One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is love. As for me, if I have to drown in the deepest sea, I'll drown myself with Zie in me. The whole business of love after all is to drown in the sea.

Time is too slow for those who wait,
Too swift for those who fear,
Too long for those who grieve,
Too short for those who rejoice,
But for those who love, time is eternity.

To Be Continued...

Jamie From The BLOG

2006-10-02T07:11:00.000+08:00

Angels at the foot,
And Angels at the head,
And like a curly little lamb

My pretty babe in bed.

This is Annur Ain Jamiemah. She called herself Ain. Others called her Jamie. But I called her Jamiemotts. My Lil’ Miss Jamiemotts came over last night and stayed up almost until midnight. She bunked about the house like a bundle of energy, whizzing around almost dusting every corners of my unit. Jamiemotts can be very territorial especially of her kingdom in Nana Zie and Ya Ummi. Like her mummy, she got called up too. Jamie is a cabin crew by day and a property agent by night.

If I were to look at myself from the eyes of Jamiemotts, I must have been the most handsome man in the world. Vice versa, from my eyes, she is indeed my most beautiful girl in the whole wide world. Her daddy however, is a police bedek.

Jamiemotts: Dodok handsome
Dodok: Thank you… Jamie cantik
Jamiemotts: Thank you…Dodok handsome
Dodok: Thank you…Jamie cantik
Jamiemotts: Thank you…Dodok handsome
Dodok: Thank you…Jamie cantik
Jamiemotts: Thank you…Dodok handsome
Dodok: Thank you…Jamie cantik

I kid you not. The girl got taste.

Inset is a picture taken of Jamiemotts with my new K800i. Do not adjust your PC monitor. The artwork is a product of the cybershot picture editing software that is integrated in my new K800i. Call me crazy or call me handsome…BUT I own the bragging right for now. Until I buy myself a newer phone, go look for a cheap spot to play with your cheap shot.

Jamiemotts: Dodok handsome
Dodok: Thank you… Jamie cantik
Jamiemotts: Thank you…Dodok handsome
Dodok: Thank you…Jamie cantik
Jamiemotts: Thank you…Dodok handsome
Dodok: Thank you…Jamie cantik
Jamiemotts: Thank you…Dodok handsome
Dodok: Thank you…Jamie cantik

To Better Today, To Better Tommorrow

2006-10-01T20:55:00.000+08:00

Life is mostly froth and bubble, but two things stand like stone, kindness in another’s trouble and courage in your own. Klaz Of 78 was to be our time tunnel. Our secret chamber to integrate among men and mice of yesterday, with an objective of bridging a more cohesive ‘today’ between them. I think Ziehan and I were there more for our better tomorrow. We were inducted into this ‘committee’ to help put to plan a grand initiative to re-unite the old folks of YISS ’78. By the power vested in us, this ‘committee’ proposes and disposes at wills. Because this noble idea of a reunion was first mooted by certain individuals, the leaderships of this ‘committee’ were assumed by its ‘Founding Father’ and his ‘Mother Nature.’ Being just an ordinary member of the common people, my convention was solely Ziehan. In this ‘committee’, the greater public has no voice in regard to the appointment of its member into their mini parliament. Neither ‘AY’ nor ‘NAY’… the discretion to select the committee’s ‘committee’ was more often decided by few on a Tête-À-Tête basis. Whatever happens to ‘Consensus Ad Idem’?

It first started as an idea. Then there was this objective. Then came the grand plan. Then all the excitement. Then there were hopes…NOW there’s nothing. When Columbus started out he didn’t know where he was going; when he got there he didn’t know where he was; and when he got back he didn’t know where he had been. By this metaphoric comparison, there might have been a similarity between that of Klaz and its ‘committee’, and Columbus and his crews. Lest we forget, history acclaimed him as the first man to have discovered that the earth is round. Twenty-seven years after we all left school, Klaz discovered that the world is rounder. The ‘committee’ bred many birds of the same feather; and other than flocking together, they flew round and around in small circle.

For every meeting Klaz convened, it was always for a very good reason. Of course that reason became better than good for Ziehan and I. Moment by moment, it was a prelude that attached a secret recipe between us. It was to be our playground where we flirted each other with fortuitous glances and naughty text messages. A dangerous liaison indeed to the conservatives, but if democracy has a better meaning in its literal sense, then we were both falling in love by our very own vote of confidence. They are all ill discoverers that they think there is no land, when they see nothing but sea.

The love in your heart wasn’t put there to stay. Love isn’t love until you give it away. Oscar Wilde once wrote, “They do not sin at all who sin for love.” I have said to her more than once before that if loving her is wrong, then I never want to be right. The very philosophy of love and life that she too embraces with fortified resolve. It was at West Coast By The Park that she professed her love with such courage and conviction. We both knew then that our journey of a thousand miles had just begun with our first step; a day at a time. From our forgotten past to our most recent yesterdays, we packed it along with us lock, stock and barrel; and we did not leave anything behind. For yesterday is but a dream, and tomorrow is only a vision, but today, well lived, makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, and every tomorrow a vision of hope.

Ziehan has been monumental in my life, a shrine above all. If I can manifest my love for her beyond more than words can say, I will give her an ‘erection’ bigger than Taj Mahal. The relationship still endures snide opinion from them whose lives might have taken some beatings themselves. When it’s easier to just live and let live, the opinionated few can’t live with the fact, and made our business theirs to patronize. Have they not lived in an atmosphere that was so polluted by haze, created by fires that they didn’t even start? I believe that most of you did at one point in time of your life or another. But because health was not a matter of that critical importance to you, it wasn’t good enough a reason to drop and die.

I’m not so sure now if it was Einstein or me who formulated the theory in relation to the relativity of time and those idiots behind it.

If A equals success, then the formula is A=X+Y+Z+U, where X is “work,” Y is “play,” and Z is “mine,” then U just “keep your mouth shut.”

To Be Continued….

"Within You'll Remain"

2006-09-28T15:39:00.000+08:00

There is no greater wonder than the way the face and character of a woman fit so perfectly in a man’s mind, and stay there, and he could never tell you why. It just seems it was the thing he most wanted. There was never a second thought when love struck me at first sight. I have learned this at least by the simplest rule of thumb: that if one advances sincerely in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will be blessed with the joy and happiness unexpected in common hours.

Different men seek after happiness in different ways and by different means, and so make for themselves different modes of life and forms of society. When I found mine, it came in the form of a divorced mother of two boys and a girl. There’s a mighty big difference between good, sound reasons and reasons that sound good. Eighteen years of marriage with no children to my name, Ziehan was my present from God packed in small package. By that alone, its good enough a sound reason; so much so, it’s a reason that sounds good enough. Of course Mary Jazz is another better half of my life; another gift from God. And I intend to play with my ‘Action Figures’ for as long as my battery works or for as long as theirs last…whichever cums first.

It’s a good thing that monkeys don’t talk, or we would find it as hard to get along with them as we do with people. There were friends and relatives from an imbecile society whose right to make judgment is to wrong the right for the wrong reasons. These people were so cultured with a mono mindset that I fast became a philanderer overnight than it took me eighteen years to make a good hero. Neither was Ziehan spared. None cares much to the fact that she has been a wonderful mother to three good kids; she’s also now the meanest ‘body snatcher’ in the valley. A potent combination of chemistry between us that ‘Rocks n Rules.’ We don’t live corrected by society's fractured perspective that lacks the ingredients of intelligence. What we were born not to be, we shall not become. Love us, hate us or live happy as an idiot wrapped in a moron; we don’t F***ING care! If only I can educate these imbeciles by simply pressing the button on my TV remote control called “BRIGHTNESS.” I wonder now; since light travels faster than sound, isn’t that why some people appear bright until you hear them speak? M O R O N S!!!

I have lived in the world just long enough to look carefully the second time into those things that I am most certain of the first time. The best years of your life are the ones in which you decide your problems are your own. You do not blame them on your mother, your committee, global warming, the cat next door, the ecology or Osama Bin Laden. You realize that you control your own destiny. As for me, eversince that wonderful night of 4th March 2005, it’s not the years in my life that count. It’s the life in my years that matters. Hence the idea now is to die young as late as possible.

“A person you love isn’t someone you can live with. It’s someone you can’t live without…so; Don’t live home without it!” – American Express

To Be Continued….

"A Fuller-Turn" At ONE FULLERTON

2006-09-27T02:41:00.000+08:00

I picked up speed to make the most out of our forgotten past. I have to realize now, in this moment of time, I am creating… I am actually creating my next moment. That is what's real. Do I write the story of my life one moment at a time? Maybe? But twenty-seven years were more than just a mathematical loss. I sought the counsel from the hidden power of my heart and contemplated. By the time I made that half-a-turn for Ziehan, I knew then that each moment is a doorway to time travel. Being in this very moment and no other, time, as we know it, STOPS. You can Freeze-Frame and stop. Then you can make another choice. You can stay in the same holographic pattern or you can choose a different one.

The real questions every now and then were the ones that obtruded upon your consciousness whether you liked it or not, the ones that made your mind started vibrating like a jackhammer, the ones that you "came to terms with" only to discover that they are still there. The real questions refused to be placated. They were the questions asked most frequently and answered most inadequately, the ones that revealed their true natures slowly, reluctantly, most often against your will to answer. I have never wanted to love a woman by betraying another. But when we know love matters more than anything, and we know that nothing else REALLY matters, we move into the state of surrender. Surrender does not necessarily diminish our power…sometime it enhances it. Half-a-turn and no-can-do, as I surrendered my heart to she who has conquered, I accelerated my momentum with “A Fuller-Turn” and placed Ziehan in the safe haven of my heart.

We watched “HITCH” on our first date at Jurong Point. A big occasion indeed for me, but none the ‘BIGGER’ than the ‘collarbone’ of half a whale that I had to carry around throughout that entire night. I was only too happy to do this for her; but happier still to see Ziehan made silly of herself to a point of embarrassment. By our second date, I realized then it’s in her habit that’s hard to break. Chivalry being chivalry, no man does a ‘dodol’ in the name of love…BUT I did.

Our journey continued. Our current safe boundaries were once unknown frontiers. The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes. We were in search for a place with a common connection. A place that we both could see from our new eyes, touch with our souls and feel it in our hearts. Between us, we were already transmitting subtle vibes of affections with a tremendous sense of mutuality. That we were both born and once raised as the children of the sea, Ziehan and I embarked on “A Fuller-Turn” towards a new destination; our promise land. And for that sentimental reason per se, we became the good pilgrims of ONE FULLERTON by our third date. There by its embankment, we gazed at the spectacle of nature under some of the very stars that might have seen us in our childhood and wonder in amusement now… “What the hell took them so long?”

Now, as I submit myself by his grace, I constantly pray.. “Is life so dear, or love so sweet as to be purchased at the price of trials and tribulations? Do not forbid us, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, I had waited through your test of time, let me love or give me death…”

To Be Continued….

The Girl Next-Door

2006-09-26T06:17:00.000+08:00

Love is not blind, it sees more not less; but because it sees more it chooses to see less. Ziehan captivated my heart with her girl next-door demeanor. It could have happened twenty-seven years ago. Then, neither more nor less, I saw none. Try as I might, she simply did not feature in any form from the back of my fragile memory. And for all that I could remember, I saw none of her. When I was young I was sure of everything; in a few years, having been mistaken a thousand times, I was not half so sure of most things as I was before; at present, I am hardly sure of anything but what God has revealed to me.

The future is not a result of choices among alternative paths offered by the present, but a place that is created…created first in the mind and will, created next by chance. The future is not some place we are going to, but one we are creating. The paths are not to be found, but made, and the chance and choice of making them, changes both the maker and the destination.

The chances we had back in school were never meant to be. For the past twenty-seven years, we lived upon our lives in parallel path. One totally obscure to the other, the divide between us had never been beyond a proximity exceeding a 5 kilometers radius. There might have been chances to grace the attention of this lady twenty-seven years ago. But back then; opportunity was missed by most people because it was dressed in school uniform and all the time it looks like student.

God had revealed to me now what he did not then. I exercised my choice and took that chance. Ziehan was seated diagonally across my table when we first met. We intimated our conversation with an occasional glance at each other. A cup of coffee later, I was a man totally smitten. Talking about which, nobody made coffee like I did then. With six sachets too many sugar, my coffee was none the sweetest.

Emboldened by a resolve to pursue a strange unchartered feeling, she became my enchanted new frontier. When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all your thoughts break their bonds; your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction, and you find yourself in a new, great and wonderful world. Dormant forces and faculties become alive, and you discover yourself to be a greater person by far than you ever dreamed yourself to be.

“Live your life to the fullest, take every opportunity that arises because you'll have plenty of time to sleep when you are dead.” – SirCumALot

To Be Continued….

"Ticket To Ride"

2006-09-24T00:42:00.000+08:00

All that she could afford, she gave. And she gives unselfishly too. In my first publish dated 20th September; I wrote my last paragraph with a promise that I will take her on a tour to my magical journey. Yesterday, my script took a surprising twist. With a “Ticket To Ride” and a journey to nowhere, Ziehan swept me of my feet and brought me on a whirlwind tour to her magical journey instead. Adorned in resplendent color and ever so sultry, Ziehan was my “Woman In Red”. She ignites my emotion with new meaning and a higher reason to express my love freely. It doesn’t require any acrobatics to love someone like Ziehan. The future always belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. I remember the first time we kissed… it was the beginning of that dream that I never would want to wake up from.

When we met yesterday, Ziehan was on a covert mode. She kept her plans to herself. A matter of fact, she revealed more from her plunging neckline than what was inside that luscious chest. The “44 Simple Steps” was mine to play; but Ziehan made sure that the plan remains hers to keep… and she gave away none to the inquisitive mind. Her sexuality however aroused me to a point of distraction. It was then that I noticed…the colors between us reminded me of my new kitchen cabinet; beautiful nonetheless.

When a white Mercedes with a black driver pulled over, the colour theme for the night got more vibrant. Much to my surprise, Mount Faber beckoned our arrival. I couldn’t have been more pleased. From the vantage point on one of Singapore’s highest peak, I was so overwhelmed by a dynamic force of nostalgic aura. At the open verandah of The Jewel Box, I retraced the path of my scrawny juvenile era. As I re-trained my emotional and mental reactions and increase my coherence, I realized now that I had re-created my life. I have reached a point and place where I no longer have to keep "working things out," but realize they are worked out!

On solid ground and at a dizzying height, the romance blossomed into more altitude. Not that I am terrified of height; but as fearsome a warrior he may be, Alexandra The Great was also afraid of monkey. I don’t see any point to this statement…but go figure. She planned my “44 Simple Steps” with a masterstroke. The tour to her magical journey began with a “Ticket To Ride” on a romantic 3 round-trips on a Mount Faber-Sentosa cable car cruise served with a 3-course dinner. Nestled in cabin 66, we kissed a lot, but moved very little. I’m not one that’s afraid to die; I just don’t want to be there when it happens. For that reason and that reason alone, the lesser she moves, the safer I feel. From the hilly terrain of Mount Faber, to the highway of Keppel Road, across the sea of Sentosa and within the sanctuary of my beautiful Ziehan, I am a man at the pinnacle of my joy.

We circumnavigated our romantic voyage much sooner than the 80 days it took Steve Coogan and Jackie Chan to complete theirs (see “Around The World In 80 Days”). I hardly had time to recover from the intoxicating experience when Ziehan conjured yet another surprise at the sky deck foyer lounge of Mount Faber. The breathtaking bird’s eye view of my ‘starry starry world’, against a Nat King Cole “Unforgettable” in the background, she added her meticulous plan with an icing on my birthday cake…literally so to speak. By the time “Dreams Are Made Of Reality” resonated the picturesque tranquil of the night, I can’t resist but to ask Ziehan for her hand and led her to the raised platform of the gazebo. Locked in tight embrace, we slow dance to every lyrics of the song like it was meant and written for us. If every picture can paint a thousand words and every title tells a story, I want to re-live this episode for the rest of my mortal life; without ever wanting to close this chapter even in my death. After all, true love never lives happily ever after - true love simply has no ending.

I know that love alone does not make happiness. I just couldn’t write anything without hope that soon she and I shall be able to rise and view ourselves with clearer eyes in that calm region where no night can hide us from each other's sight. From Ziehan I’ve seen it all, I’ve heard it all… her devotion of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites my sensitive soul to tears. So shall we soar the sky, so shall we seek our forgotten past, but together we must carry it with us or we find it not.

All’s well that ends well… be the soft tranquil of the moonless night, be the gentle wind that blows; Ziehan blows better at home.

Like the Great One once taught me “Man makes holy what he believes, as he makes beautiful what he loves.”

Forty-Four Simple Steps

2006-09-21T15:06:00.000+08:00

I didn’t get old on purpose, it just happened in forty-four simple steps. As I turned 44 today, I intend to live forever or at least die trying. More so now than ever for the fact that I have Ziehan. This day has returned to me 44 times now in as many years. You may want to call it birthday, but I call it coincidence. It always happens on the same date every year but not necessarily on the same day. For the past 44 years, I have celebrated this date on every other day of the calendar week. A quick check on my computer indicates that I will celebrate this date on a Sunday in 2050, and a Saturday in 2070, and a Friday in 2080 and back to this day (Thursday) in the year 3020. By which time, all of Klaz 78 will be dead, Ziehan will be old, the microwave’s warranty will expire and the 99 years lease to my house would have lapsed. A cruel reality that’s so frightening to imagine… what do I do without a microwave? Where do I live? And whom do I take my daily jog with in 3020?

How time really flies. 44 years now and it seems like only yesterday that I was part of a biological process that science called chromosomes. If my mum had laboured me 30 years longer, I would have been just 14 years today. But I would never have swapped the advantage of youth for the love of Ziehan. Love is the best medicine for eternal youth, and there is more than enough to go around once you open your heart. With her love to cherish, with a hope to achieve and a journey to complete; I shall not look back with regret, or forward in fear, but just around in awareness. It was the wisdom of Helen Rowland who reminds me that the follies that a man regrets most in his life are those that he didn't take when he had the opportunity. Ziehan is the grand essential of my happiness…nevermind if there is a chorus of discontent, nevermind if the ground beneath us shakes, be the mountain roars, if you are going to walk on thin ice, you might as well dance!

“Love doesn't make the world go round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile” – SirCumALot

On the Twenty-First day of the Ninth month in the year of the Holy Lord 2006… Happy Birthday to me.

Love At First Sight

2006-09-20T17:19:00.000+08:00

The most wonderful of all things in life, I believe, is the discovery of another human being with whom one's relationship has a glowing depth, beauty, and joy as the years increase. This inner progressiveness of love between two human beings is a most marvelous thing, it cannot be found by looking for it or by passionately wishing for it. It is a sort of Divine accident.

During my rough and tumble days, I experienced many a bad falls. Some pained me to death and some scarred me for life. Like Elbert Hubbard once said”God will not look you over for medals, degrees, or diplomas, but for scars.” The growing pain period often saw me picking myself up fast enough only to fall just as quickly; again and again and again. Then I was constantly in a hurry. I may have problem with my high speed balancing, but who the heck cares. Long after my rough and tumble days, I thought I had enough until almost one and a half year ago to this date. I FELL AGAIN. Do I want to pick myself up from this…Hell NO! It was into something so deep that even if it hurts, it sure as hell will “Hurt So Good.” I wasn’t looking… People take different roads seeking fulfillment and happiness. Just because they're not on your road doesn't mean they've gotten lost... but I FOUND. Today, I stretch my heart and expand my love so that it touches not only those to whom I can give it easily, but also those who need it so much. Twenty-seven years not too late, I fall in love.

In obscurity for many years, Ziehan touched my heart on the night of 4th March 2004. It wasn’t just any other night for me; it was no ordinary night by all accounts. It may have been by Divine accident, but as good as it got, we met for a reason to live for and with a purpose to die by. I have never met a person whose greatest need was anything other than real, unconditional love. I saw it in her simple act of kindness toward anyone who needs help. There is no mistaking love. I feel it in my heart. It is in the common fiber of my life, the flame that heats my soul, energizes my spirit and supplies passion to my life. It is our connection to God and to each other.

“Love and magic have a great deal in common. They enrich the soul, delight the heart. And they both take practice.” - SirCumALot

And His Journey Begins...

2006-09-20T05:42:00.000+08:00

SIMPLICITY….That’s what this is all about. My simple CITY without all the illustrious settings of the past. Gone were those days when BIGBADVOODOODADDY commanded an audience from every nook and cranny of society that writing for me became more for their amusement then.

As best as I could and as much as I can, I shall endeavor to detach myself from that image that I was once so revered for. But for the joy of writing, I am who I am. That I am HIM, what is…is!! I am one who do not share the school of philosophy founded by Zeno, who taught that people should be free from passion, unmoved by joy or grief, and submit without complaint to unavoidable necessity. If its funny…laugh, cry if I sadden you, and if I anger you…SUE me. Do I want to protect my domain with a certain ‘disclaimer’? The answer is…FUCK IT!! Where and when the writing is marred by expletives, it may be vulgar to you but just a freedom of speech to me. Where and when a viewable material becomes offensive, it may be porno to you BUT it’s tasteful art to me. That this is a chamber of my own commerce; I am the merchant of my own faculty of thought per se. For instant, one would wonder and can’t help but to be curious… “Mouth2Mouth & Lips INC.” Why??? I don’t have to explain if I don’t want to. Sometimes not every question deserves an answer…but this instant I will bother to explain. “Mouth2Mouth & Lips INC.” ..WHY if you ask me, my explanation is WHY NOT? If this suffices, then long may you live stupid.

“Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind” – SirCumALot

A great depth of gratitude to the woman behind this man, the love of my life, the queen of my heart, the beacon of my hope, my one, my only Ziehan. For making this possible, I will take you on a tour to my magical journey; and I will bleed this space with love and only your love to die for.

Hence my journey begins….