Posts from ‘August, 2009’

Thoughts on the cow’s head temple demo incident this Merdeka

By now you would probably have heard about the cow’s head temple demo incident, where a group of people marched with a severed cow’s head, took turns stepping on it and threatened bloodshed in the name of Islam. All because they didn’t want a Hindu temple relocated to (their) Section 23 in Shah Alam.

I’ve been thinking about it for a few days, and it’s unfortunate that they would choose to do this on the eve of Malaysia’s 52nd Independence Day, but believe it or not, their actions, originally intended to cause strife and ignite tension, may also have unwittingly caused some good. Let me explain.

At first, I was beyond disgusted. I was appalled. I… I had no words. I had never seen such ridiculous people, such… barbarians. These were people who had zero respect for others, people who thought that just because they were Muslims they could do whatever they wanted in the name of their religion. And the worst part is, there were kids in that demonstration. Young boys who chanted slogans along with their narrow-minded, disgusting adult leaders, who took turns desecrating the cow’s head (cows are sacred in Hinduism).

And then, I was embarrassed. I was genuinely embarrassed to call these people my fellow countrymen, and above all, I was embarrassed for the Muslims in the country. I read tweets and blog posts and comments about the incident, and I saw how ashamed many Muslims were about their so-called brothers in religion. I saw how horrified they were at what had happened, and you know, maybe for the first time ever, I was completely on their side. I wanted to defend them, to tell people who would make generalisations about Muslims, stop, they’re not all like that. Those demonstrators do not represent Islam. They’re gangsters, they’re an embarrassment. Do some research, see how genuinely sorry and angry Muslims are. They’re as horrified as the rest of us.

Just because those demonstrators did it in their god’s name doesn’t mean they speak for all Muslims. Religion isn’t bad, it’s when humans twist it and manipulate it for personal gain, when they use it as an excuse to behave like Neanderthals… that’s when it’s made bad. I don’t speak only about Islam. I’m a Christian and I can tell you, Christianity also has its share of deludeds, kooks and hypocrites.

So where was I? Yes, the temple demo was organised with hatred in mind, designed to provoke and cause racial disharmony and promote intolerance. But for me, once I got over the shock of it, took a deep breath and opened my eyes a little wider, it did just the opposite. The way I see it, what it really ended up doing was create a space and an opportunity for people of all races and religions to unite in their condemnation against it and against the misuse of Islam (and perhaps of all religions?).

I’m pretty sure this was the last thing they expected, and I take satisfaction from that. It does not mean, however, that these people should get away. This is an opportunity for the government to do the right thing and all eyes will be on them to see what happens next. Something should be done before these men – and all those who supported or encouraged them – spread their abhorrent attitudes to more people.

Happy Merdeka, everyone.

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The next person who tells me basketball is not a dangerous sport is going to get smacked

The first time I went with hubby to the emergency room because he’d strained a back muscle playing basketball and couldn’t move – this is after he underwent surgery for a torn ankle ligament and subsequently sprained his other ankle several times – I tried to get the doctor to tell hubby basketball is a dangerous sport.

The doctor laughed at me. Laughed.

This is also after hubby had previously suffered a pinched nerve (a.k.a. slipped disc, albeit a mild case) and a basketball buddy dislocated his ankle and had two teeth knocked out. Okay, so the pinched nerve didn’t happen during a basketball game but that poor guy’s injuries did.

It completely flabbergasts me how these guys play basketball. Either my husband is the most injury-prone player in the world or these guys think they’re playing American football. Should I buy hubby some shoulder pads, knee pads and a helmet for Christmas?

Then last week, hubby came home after a game and said casually: “I dislocated my shoulder.”

His arm needs to be in a sling for two weeks – currently, it’s one week two days and counting – and he’s not to play basketball for six. I promise I’ve had visions of marching back to that doctor and saying: “See, I told you it was a dangerous sport. You don’t know how injury-prone my husband is.”

Which is hugely ironic considering hubby’s always on my case for dropping things. Well, at least I drop things that don’t hurt. He drops himself. I think he’s worse.

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Asam laksa at the pasar malam

I admit it doesn’t look very appetising in the dark, but this bowl of asam laksa is one of the best I’ve had in a while. The boys and I had some friends from Melbourne in town over the last few days so we brought them to the SS2 pasar malam (night market) for good food, cheap stuff and a taste of our suburban life. That explains why the photo is so dark – we ate this sitting at a folding table by the roadside. It was really fun. We hadn’t been to a pasar malam for the longest time so it was as much an adventure for us as it was for the out-of-towners. The boys even ended up buying slippers!

(Photo by Y.)

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MTV World Stage Live In Malaysia: Photos from the press conference

2AM. They don’t speak English too well but they sure can sing.

Estranged. This is the actual view from where my seat was. So I found a better corner and maximised my camera’s zoom function.

Raygun. Their single ‘Just Because’ is really growing on us in the office.

Pixie Lott. She’s only 18 years old and an absolute darling. And talented.

Boys Like Girls. They’re a little scruffier than you’d imagine a band with the words “boy” and “girl” in their name would look.

Hoobastank. They said they were probably the least dressed-up of the bands there. They were right.

The All-American Rejects. I swear there’s never a dull moment with these guys.

Kasabian. The guys made it, swine flu rumours and all.

MTV VJs Denise and Utt. This is the view from my corner, without zoom. I regretfully concede I may need a better camera, tough as my old-school Sony Cybershot is. The flash just didn’t cut it this time.

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This is one of the biggest reasons why I love my job

There are several reasons why I love doing what I do. Meeting talented, interesting and nice people (good-looking is just a bonus) and getting to hear their stories probably ranks on top. I’ve never been very good at telling my stories; I always feel the dramatic ones are overly melodramatic and almost everything else is boring. And so I’ve always preferred writing about someone else. Especially when they have something interesting and/or intelligent to say.

All-American Rejects Tyson and Mike had lots to say. As did Doug and Jesse of Hoobastank. I was lucky enough to land a group interview with both bands during MTV World Stage Live In Malaysia last weekend. And I’ve probably said this before, but as big a fan as I am of talent, I am an even bigger fan of nice. I feel being talented, famous and successful doesn’t give a person the right to be an arrogant ass, and it’s far more difficult (and underrated) to be nice, especially when you don’t have to be, than it is to be talented. You are born with talent after all.

(This quote by rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel that I think I read on Sivin’s Twitter has stuck with me all fortnight. “When I was young, I used to admire intelligent people; as I grow older, I admire kind people.” Yep, I’m definitely getting older. And yes, I had to Google the rabbi.)

So these guys were really nice. Which was fantastic. We got a quick photo opportunity with Pixie Lott while she was grabbing a bite – I felt bad about interrupting her finger sandwich, actually – but otherwise, I didn’t really get a chance to meet the other bands that were in town. From what I heard, most of them were pretty approachable. Which is the way it should be I think, but then again, I have always been a tad too idealistic. I’ll come back to that later.

I’m not sure what I expected from the interviews – laughs, great quotes, interesting insights? – but one thing I didn’t expect was to be inspired and to walk away with a whole new respect for Hoobastank. Without taking anything away from Tyson and Mike (shuffle the names around and you get Mike Tyson) who were wonderful and quirky and weird in a really cool way, it was Doug and Jesse who struck a chord as they talked about their music and how the band has been playing together for 15 years and how they try to stick to their ideals as musicians.

It wasn’t even a question I’d prepared but one that came to me in the last five minutes of the interview. And it was just amazing to me how a bunch of guys started a band in high school and named it a stupid word they didn’t even know the meaning to – those are Doug’s words, not mine – and 15 years down the road they’re still playing together because they love music so much. Obviously they’re not the only band who’s done that and it’s all nothing I didn’t already know, but somehow, given the context and hearing it from the guys themselves as they talked about money and integrity and being homegrown…

It could hardly have been more timely for this slightly jaded, cynical writer who was and still is going through this idealistic and integrity-obsessed phase. I’m demanding more integrity of Y and myself and I’m revisiting my ideals as a writer. Is it really possible to be an earning writer without sacrificing my integrity? I understand the pressure to write what others want to read, especially when money is on the line, but surely there must be a way to balance both? I remember someone once telling me I was too idealistic, it may have been my mother, and oh dear, it’s starting all over again.

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Rambling thoughts on turning 27

I turned 27 last week. It feels the same as when I was 26, not that I was expecting it to be any different. When I turned 21, I said it was probably going to be my last “big” birthday celebration until I turn 70 because after 21, the years just seem to blend into each other. I don’t know how I knew that at the time, but as it turns out, I was right. So far.

27 still puts me in the lower end of the 25-30 spectrum but my late 20s are beckoning and so I’ve been thinking about my life. I’m giving myself until 30 to figure out who I am and what I want in life, and I know it’s not like I’m going to stop learning about myself after that, but it’s just this block of time that I’ve consciously set aside to think about me.

Why 30, you ask? At least two people I’ve interviewed say their 20s were when they experimented and understood who they were, and that they are much happier now that they’re in their 30s. A quick search of Penelope Trunk’s blog – which I love – produced several links that suggest the same. (See here and here.) I’m sure there’s more but like I said, it was a quick one.

I think I know where I’m going. I hope I do. Of some aspects, I’m sure; of others, I think I’ve at least figured out a general direction. I have so much to be thankful for, more than I deserve. And the news gets better. According to this, I’m going to get happier. So bring it on.

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Getting gadget envy

This is J, Y and C poring (pawing) over the new iPhone 3GS. This is me being bored so I took a photo of them. I’ve never been one to get gadget envy but I must confess, I’m starting to develop a real hankering for a phone that allows me decent Internet access and, hopefully, better pictures. That doesn’t necessarily mean an iPhone although it does, at first glance, look pretty cool.

It being a “want” and not a “need”, I think I shall wait and see if the impulse passes. Besides, Y has already put in an order for an iPhone of his own so I’ll see how much I actually like it first. I’m having trouble justifying the splurge (and really, that’s what it will be for me) to myself when I have a perfectly great phone that serves me well and that puts up with my dropping it every now and then. Yes, I drop things.

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Along Jalan Sultan Ismail

This photo was taken last Tuesday along Jalan Sultan Ismail as I bravely – some would say foolishly – tackled Kuala Lumpur city centre traffic at 6pm. It eventually took me an hour to cover the 20km home but occupying myself with such pursuits everytime I stopped at a light definitely helped.

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Do men worry about staying single?

I know some women who do, but Y says men generally do not have the same concern. Why should they, he says, they can be 40 and still date a girl in her 20s. Age is not a factor. In fact, for some women, the older a man is, the more attractive he becomes. So why should men worry?

Well, I’ve heard at least one guy, in a moment of girly bonding, confess to being afraid that he’ll end up old and alone, and I’ve definitely heard more than one girl echo that sentiment. From what I also hear, I think it’s less about societal expectations and more about the convenience and companionship a partner brings. Which are, of course, better reasons to hook up than “because my mother told me to.”

I’m not entirely sure I want to take it from a guy who got hitched before his 24th birthday so tell me, do men worry about staying single? For that matter, do women?

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In memory of Jeff

There’s nothing like a death to remind us of our mortality, to put things into perspective, to shake us out of our complacency. And recently, there have been too many. Michael Jackson, Farah Fawcett, Yasmin Ahmad and now, Jeffrey Lee. Of course, there were others in between and Jeff was hardly a celebrity, but he was the one who hit closest to home.

They say it was a motorcycle accident. We weren’t close but I think Jeff loved his bike. We’d met him during our dive trip to Sipadan in January. He was a dive instructor and he introduced himself as we were checking in at the airport. He probably took one look at the bunch of us and thought, I’m going to have to keep an eye on these guys. And he was right.

He saw the boys off on their wildly-ambitious swim to an oil-rig in the distance, and he tried to wave them in the right direction when it was clear they were going off-course. He sent the boat for them when he decided they probably weren’t going to make it, and he and I waited together for the boys to come back.

I only saw him once more after that trip – a few of us had drinks together one night – but the boys have seen him several times since. We are in shock. I can’t even imagine what his close friends and family are going through. Suddenly, nothing seems certain anymore.

Rest in peace, Jeff. We’ll always remember you. Thanks for being a part of our Sipadan experience; it was our best dive trip ever.

(Photo from G.)

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