The Coming of Age

October is finally here, and many things that I have picked up and learned along the way. Only, there is one major adjustment that can never possibly be made. If so, it would potentially take several years before coming to a realization.

It was around mid-july 2007 as finals are approaching when someone asked me when I am going to make a leap of faith. It was a non-personal query as that person is a close colleague of mine. So do her to my friends. A life walkaround with companion, hmm… I ponder. If not by knot of marriage, but through forbidden language called the ‘coupling’. I flipped through numbers trying to make estimation when October crossed my mind. Yeah. October. Not on the present year, but next year which will be 2008.

Waa…at that moment it seems pretty long and tiring wait. Yet, that is the price paid for a resolution to take shape. Even, how many of our new-year resolutions had survived and lived beyond words? The path remained doubtful and sketchy as of where do I begin? Should I go fishing for girls? If so, how many of them should I put in the initial batch? Should I do some homework? It seems very foggy and guideless, yet like a promise of a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, the conclusion to all this resolution would be the chance smile like an honest man smiling.

Days goes by, months goes along. Time really moves fast. As I remained committed towards a change and several rules have been imposed towards myself, Its really puts me into pandemonium of seeing this magnanimous vision coming into action as curtain falls and October reveled herself. Should I scream in joy? Should I remain somber in silence? Should I cry as finally things had come into place? These are questions which I asked myself. I never had been through crossroads and no single reason why should I turn back in this pursuit of happiness. October is upon me, let it be.

I remind myself that I cannot presume everything will be back in order and perfect if October brought the much needed joy. We are all flaw in some way. Having a relationship is another way to subtly get response of our flaw and ways to accept it. Flaw that keeps our head low and not think that we are inferior or superior to anyone else. Flaw which takes time to disappear or coup-up. Flaw that makes us talk in a manner that’s humble. Flaw makes us think hard trying our best avoid bad circumstances. God knew if he let any of his creatures roam free on this face of earth without flaw, that creature would just manifest everything.

Flaw is not a subject that is going to curb my October aim, neither I am going to use my flawlessness and gained sympathy as I encounter October. Perhaps, flaw can be looked in a different angle. Flaw as a force that binds two people together. Just like the invisible force that binds a pair of magnets.

Resilient Girl or Naïve Silly Girl?

I have an assertive pre-condition in engaging a relationship previously and repeatedly said. The desire to see the other best side of me being extremely resilient towards external influences ( besties, cronies, cliques alike ). It may bit sounded like a control freak though, but this is a simple favor which demanded a clever desegregation between private room and peer/friendship room. I even like the idea of both friendship and relationship circle to eventually (over time) merge and create a healthy conflict-free friendship ecosystem.

Why am I antagonizing the idea of besties/cronies/cliques? Have I reached boiling point dealing with them? Frankly, I do not antagonize them and far away from taking any confrontation with them. They are needed/important as much as ponstan pill for aching architects or ctrl+alt+del for jamming computers . They are vital entities which existence cannot be denied. Given option for them to vanquish, I won’t advocate it as such will worsen situation. But, if it becomes too ‘clingy’ or ‘dependent’, then it gets really cramped. If such deliberate collective act by besties/cronies/clique to suppress partner into abandoning relationship then it gets really annoying and intrusive. If both situation are considered as flaw. By then, thinking should come into action. That is why a bit of segregation practice is needed.

Takut kena ombak jangan berumah ditepi pantai ( If you fear a typhoon will destroy your home, do not build your home near the beach ). If I reckon to absolutely protect myself from this kind of problem, let alone I distance and bear myself from befriending my future partner social circle. No way this would happen. This kind of attitude is extremely selfish? Don’t you think its possessive, obsessive and childish? Wanting 100% of partner attention as if she has no other pursuits/purpose/commitments in her life. In the end of the day, there should be a trade-off between these two circles vice-versa.

Talking about childish, I do admit that I don’t want to grow up. I rather be commanded and guided. I rather have someone mature and senior than my age to walk along and tell me which bird chirp what and which streets leads to where. Yes, never mind about the age. Even I looked like a 25~26ers at first glance. I can coup-up with those with the 9 to 5 routine of theirs. Oddly enough, I don’t hassle if everything turned out to be a queen controlled relationship. Let there be a proof woman power and good it could bring.

Many wondered with my odd way of doing things, what kind of partner that I shall finally meet? If I wanted to meet my intellectual desire, I envisioned aggressive talk-a-lot pre-law chick. At least I can learn something. I might scoop a thing or two on the limits and boundaries of blogging within the context of law. I might become more vigil when dealing with individual, organizations or companies with their terms and conditions that acts like a coyote in finding the possibilities to rob us in broad daylight.

Sticking to the not-so-fiery-nationalist inside me, I would want a hitam manis Kedahan girl which would someway/someday accompany me all the way for balik kampong? She could remind me overtime to stay down to earth, tone my voice down and being humble, especially in KL as anak perantauan. She could polish my northern lingos and we can argue about kerisek and santan nyior in preparation of gulai.

I never bother if all mentioned qualities cannot be fulfilled, perhaps, a combination of two or three?

We all understood that putting too many criterions in finding a partner are luxury that little of us can possibly afford ( What? Rich, voluptuous, KL-upper crust socialites ).While letting any interested soul that passes by into serious relationship setup would then can be seen as reckless as tangkap muat ( grab all ). Its principle bound pitted against open-channeling

Sooner or later, all of the qualities I knee-jerk wanted from a girl may just be washed off. I ‘am willing to waive all. Not because I have no principle. This, to keep a positive and clear mind, and wished for the best for whomever that stood within the line. Who knows the girl which had fondness with overgrown shades ( I call it speck lalat ) might just be the one that suite me. Who may guess I might fall for any UMNO cronies daughters. I know I had big comments about them with their fancy stuff and affluent lifestyle of uncertain origins. But, it wouldn’t hurt to take a ride on cute little Volkswagen Golf GTI’s. Visionary cronies I wouldn’t mind either, I would sit beside them and listen to what’s life as an UMNO crony attentively while her daughter can make coffee in the kitchen. Who knows that girl with lacking of peer pressure resilience might be the one for me? Beauty has never been the answer. Neither status nor positions guarantee happiness. Age or race never assures a couplehood survival.

Nature has its own way of unsettling itself

What is her name?

The question of how much seriousness have I purged into this search for the other better half is as much serious I put into living. How serious do I take life? Or am I still in limbo? No, I’am not in limbo all this while. As nature takes its course, everything will unravel in a short notice. But if you asked about my future partner, I admit, it is still foggy and sketchy as I board the train of nature which one day might surprise me with wonders. Don’t expect me to pull out names whatsoever; this is no ala-the bachelor reality show.

Like I expect October comes in a short notice, there are things that never come shortly. I have adjustments which cannot be quickly done. I am an introvert, in which I never had huge networks of friends to seek littlest advice from how to fit a gas casket or where to seek the cheapest tow truck during accidents. We all know that having a huge networks of friends means a lot in some way. It means late night lepaking with fellow friends of four to five instead of a pair. As I heard someone mentioned that I am no ‘fun’, lacking a huge networks of friend not only means limited aid during troubled times, but also, gives an impression of society boycott. Lacking of acceptance or unpopular. Lacking of interaction. What shall I do when thing are perceived this way? People draw simple conclusion that the lesser number of friends you had means you are disliked or despised. Its left to the public judgment to assume I am rejected by the society or I dejected myself from the crowd. Either way, skin has been thickened by lesson picked up years upon years. Way before October comes.

Looking at positive light, I’am a person that believes in singular minded idealogy.I’am well aware of the term loner and individualistic. In Malay its called pulau (deserted). At core, I am very much realist, I accept this kind of realities. If you think my phonebook has active contacts, I suck big time in that. I withdraw myself from the society very much because I believe the idea of human interaction is very much disposable like diapers. When business is done, there is no need to contacts or talk anymore, as I becomes unnecessary. I become less SMS-worthy and buzz-worthy. Unless, I’am a Kedahan royal blood bachelor, then interaction becomes extended due to my ‘synthetic’ positioning.

Aside from disposable, I found the idea of human interaction is sometimes heavily structured. There are followers which cling and boasted about their connection with big names, VIPs. I assume myself as debris ( serpihan ); perhaps the flying without direction niche of social member. I owe no allegiance to anybody or anyone, as I find it easy living this way. Secession, rebellious or unaligned; in history, it has been proven this kind of act is 50/50 success rate. Either I succeed or fail, time will tell.

This is the flaw that I have. I do not demand sympathy because it’s a choice I made years back. My mouth is virtually zipped, and only writing such of blog entries represent my voice since 2003. I am not arrogant to ‘push’ myself back into the society and finding a whole bunch people that fits me. Create a broad web of contacts that my future girlfriend would awe and find me ‘’fun’’. An adjustment, which may take years to do so as I let nature, takes its course. I have experience having relationship fallout due to absence of connections. I admit, love alone in today standard make relationship seems handicapped. As the saying goes; style without substance.

Either she has to acclimate or I have to make a complete mindset change, there will be a trade-off. Somewhat, somehow.

The Journo

Many of us never heard the name Pak Samad, the unsung hero and nationalist. A strong proponent of Bahasa Melayu. The only bells that rung when speaking about Samad is A.Samad Said the writer of Malay satire Salina or the controversial Ahmad Ismail. 

So, I went to tinjau-tinjau and research in the internet. I only knew Pak Samad when news about his death came out. Beginning from that moment I started reading little by little on his story. And I bet, there are plenty of things which me myself has got find out within the stacks, rubble and collection of history.

Last few weeks, my entry centered on sovereignty and it’s filling. It is proven that independence alone does not mean anything if everything around us is owned by others who tend to suppress and pressure us. It’s a shame for our future son or daughters ( god willing ), born in Malaysia, soon discover that the hippiest and liveliest hot land plots around KLCC were to belong to some Bruce, Jack or Richards. 

By now, we began to reflect ourselves “would it be unfair to reject reality? “.

No doubt, the concept of Darwinism, where only the fittest survives is a natural law which applies to every human. Darwin himself an agnostic man whose genius and theory turned into a controversy, sending the science world into a storming debate roundtable. In Malaysia, his science philosophy has been politicized. As far as I personally see, certain group who are heeding this nation to become an ecosystem manifested by the fittest. Does an agnostic man know God created humans with flaw, weakness and dark sides? Lucky, we are supplied with brain tissue to think hard and overcome these human weakness. Or else, the social Darwinism kicks in and the sight of dog eat dog is something unruly in this civilized generation.

 In this competitive world where Dubai businessmen can easily purchase the Great Wall of China or acquire English football clubs in a swift, with daring intention of buying a plethora of superstar players. Things can become real unfair. Its about time when ‘affirmative action’ becomes necessary. Admit it, we are never a neo-colonized nation like Australia or United States where the original/aborigines had been driven out and strayed off from mainstream citizenry. We are blessed with the multiracial atmosphere. For some certain pockets of people who wanted Malaysia to pave its way to become a one race nation, perhaps, they never appreciate/cherish the multicultural social fabric of Malaysia. These people with their unclear intention and expectation should be dumped somewhere else and take time to appreciate ‘variety’.

Then, there should be a mechanism to protect whatever kepentingan ( interest ) that is vital for short, medium and long period. 

Pak Samad is a journalist. He was born in Singapore in 1924. At 21 he becomes editor for Berita Malai. Later in 1951, together with Lee Kuan Yew was amongst the founding member of PAP which offshoot/clone/mimic version existed here in Malaysia and claimed themselves the democratic party ( I fondly call them the Malaysian Malaysia Party ). Pak Samad had clash of thoughts with Kuan Yew and later left that city state to stay in Malaysia. Along the years here, a lot of things have been contributed by him. One of them includes the aquirisation of New Straits Times from the republic of Singapore.

He devised the idea that having a prominent news arm to disseminate information is vital. In times where Singapore-Malaysia relation were strenuous and the world ( at that time ) depended on established print media to get a clearer picture of what’s happening; Pak Samad no doubt has seen the advantage of ‘amplifying’ Malaysia voice to a more credible level. Nobody knew the approximate million dollar acquirisation of a single news corporation could make a significant change. Likewise the 1980’s coup of Guthrie and whole other English plantation companies that saps the blessed soil of Malaysia. Perhaps citizen of infant Malaysia was highly aware about tarred roads, piped water supply and reliable postal services. But there are 'other' things that can put nation survival into jeopardy. At the time, Utusan Malaya were spearheading the dissemination of information in Malaysia. But Utusan heavy stance of anti-colonization during the independence struggle had it labeled as ‘radical’ by some quarters. So, a neutral looking masthead needed to convince people outside Malaysia .

On the other hand, news, like an inhumane voice or ethereal convincer, penetrates to the single most individual minds. They enter homes, offices, schools and other constitution. People read news early in the morning, as it becomes like a spark plug of the logical/rationale quadrant of brain nerves. A fresh piece of crisp virgin newspaper has become somewhat an appeal to turn people on. Newspaper is the first and foremost.

1976 was Pak Samad darkest hours when he got to prison. Which incidentally falls on Tun Hussein Onn tenure as prime minister. There must have been some sort of matter which made the then-PM had him into detention. I still had to find out.  

Pak Samad became somewhat an instrument to counter any media salvos launched by Singapore towards us. By 1981, when the then prime minister Dr.Mahathir stepped up as a prime minister, he saw the huge potential of Pak Samad as someone with the capabilities and experience to apprehend the city state nerve warfare changing tactics and stratagem. He had him released from detention and offered post as editorial advisor of NSTP ( New Straits Times press ). It all worked brilliantly as Pak Samad himself held the mastery of journalism at the fingertips of both his hands; which by the time accounted around 40years of specialized skill. Ultimately, Pak Samad mahaguru was Abdul Rahim Kajai, the intelligentsia of pre-independence Malaya which directly joined the struggle towards independence through nationalistic-fuelled poetry and illicitly released written works.

True, pen is mightier than sword. And an organized info dissemination arm becomes a highly disciplined arsenal of mighty pen. 

Pak Samad should become the inspiration for the rest of us. The young ones. He had this strong spirit of ‘biar jasa jadi kenangan’ ( lest the deed be remembered ). A man who never bother if his name never emblazoned or carved on young minds of people like mine. He do whatever he needs to do. When he finally departed, it’s the things that he has done that reflected who he is. No image needed on his news column, the words tells it all. And I carried on to be fascinated by this man whom survived the kicking and pushing of reality, which deeds continued to live on.  

Al-fatihah. Tan Sri Abdul Samad Ismail ( 1924 – 2008 )

The Mysticus

The current hysteria that swept the school kids had people like me wonder, does the spirits/jins and ghosts goes marauding according to seasons?

Downtown KL, a club with gyrating bodies dancing and prancing are filled with smell of cigarettes and booze. Amidst the rapid beats and body-shaking house beat, a young 20 something Malay girl took a slow sip of alcoholic beverage with intention not to get very drunk or else someone car interior would be spilled with vomit. Occasionally, smoking a stick of freshly lit cigarette. Barely touching the edge of lips to achieve that ‘carburetor’ smoke and air mixture. Exhale into the air as moment past it disappears into thin air. A man walked up the aisle and offered drink; perhaps a better, expensive and classier variant of booze to excite the 20 something girl about the meaning of taste. A simple chat started and the man had visions of whats next, ultimately he charted his journey through the night as a wild suave stud ending messily on a sea of blankets next morning bare naked. Perhaps, a simple contact trade will do if magic does not happen as expected.

A Malay girl somewhere in a small town in Pahang sits in front of the television while doing her homework recently given by her add maths cikgu Roziah. Question is quite tough and she keeps scratching her neck. She looks on at the iron board that sits near the television. A kain tudung ( veil ) has yet to be iron out to get rid of the wrinkles for sekolah. Still, she is stuck with the add math single most mind boggling question which failure to answer might land her in danger zone if cikgu calls her forward.

Ayah is busy reading through the newspaper with headlines about Anwar and his big win. Nah. Politics never capture a chunk of her brain quadrants. Emak is busy cleaning the clothes to be hung early in the morning tomorrow. A sense of loneliness is felt. But yet, the television is turned on and playing hantu serial. All images of long haired creature inside a white veil and green eyed biawak-like humanoid make the basis of these hantu serial drama. Ah. Its something that captured every quadrant of this girl brain quadrant. She then paid attention to the drama hantu.

Simple imagination takes place. She wonder what jampi/mantra will her dad cast if a green-eyed toyol encroached into her house through the front door? Because ayah seats near the door. And the door is wide opened to let the wind in.To cool interior. Her imagination extended to kilometers away outside of her door. Reminiscence of how her geography teacher told that Pahang is rich with timber. The jungle outside there sort of become a kingdom for all sorts type of ghost, jin and spirits than wander amongst themselves.

Downtown KL, the kingdom that a sweet petite 20something girl wander were filled with bright neons and bursts of loud laugh of fellow girls which had their partners visiting clubs, pubs and bistros. She made a stop to a mamak stall with her mates. She scratches because she is sweating. Of course, she did dance for a couple of minutes recently with that unknown guy. But, his suave confidence saw attempts of him landing his palm in few ticklish and sensitive areas. She is not in the mood, so she politely pulled out. The girl seating opposite keeps telling about the bitchy is her housemate. She tells about which shop to get good dresses. She tells about the cocktail parties, and whom is invited or associated.

Can I assume the hysteria sweep is just the collective-belief atmosphere that influences them?

Back in the Pahang smalltown, ayah started his Honda Petak. The engine started abruptly, moments, it sounded like the engine might gone dead. Thin white smoke coming out of the exhaust. No helmet is worn since the school is situated a few kilometers. No JPJ would want to conduct an operation as its still early in the morning. They would probably be busy humping their wives or enjoying teh-o-kaw with two half-boiled eggs. Emak, as expected, are carefully hanging the clothes which she manually washed last night. Water can still seen dripping onto the earth. Sun has not fully revealed itself. The grass is thickly covered with embun – or dew. It left a trail as ayah motorcycle went on top of it.

As ayah went through the kampong road, the girl adjusted her tudung, so that it would not fluff too hard. Luckily she managed to iron it, but the add math sum is still left in limbo. She had to find her smarter classmates to sort things out before double-period add maths come after recess. As ayah Honda petak passes through a thick jungle and improperly managed bushy FELDA lot on the right, with hill backdrop things begins to get a little gloomy. The girl remember the drama hantu which long haired in white cloth would partially reveal the face behind the old trees. Fear begins to grip. A loose grip because her worries is still focused on the unsettled Add Math sum. Cikgu Roziah will sure get mad.

Morning in Klang Valley, the 20something Malay girl start to get out of bed. She had to get to college. Media studies class will begin in matter of minutes. Mass communication is what she always wanted to do. The expressway are really busy with vehicles lining up to get their tolls paid, she can see it through her apartment bay window. She is worried about the clothes which she is going to wear. A pair of heels which she bought last week was not opened yet as she finds no matching clothes. She felt lazy, but she must go to her college. She noticed her saliva still had that booze smell. SMS inbox were filled with messages inviting her to check out new clubs,bistro or just simple hanging out spot. Mr.Suave which bravely laid a few of his fingers on her petite curves last night had send a message too. Two actually. She honestly felt not in the mood to give it a ‘go’.

The Honda Petak arrives safely infront of sekolah. She kissed her dad hands and proceed to the school compound. She quickly enters the class although there is merely only 10 minutes before the assembly bell rings. Like mentioned earlier, the add maths sum bothered her. She needs to sort it out before Cikgu Roziah stepped into the classroom. Inside the classroom, she met Latifah. Her ayah is a rubber tapper and emak is a nasi-lemak and kuih-kuaci maker cum seller. Latifah seems to partially complete the add maths sum. She proceeded to copy her work. At least cikgu roziah might realize her effort. Latifah is then joined with Syahirah and Rohaizatul. They talked about the breeze that moved branches visible from their classroom and strange sounds of bird outside. She begins to remember the dramahantu she saw yesterday. The black hairy inside white veil that barely walk but float. The green-eyed lizard like humanoid that colours matches the lush timber landscape of inner Pahang.

She begins it with precursor words like “ takut, sejuk, pelik “ ( scary, cold and unusual ). With Latifah, Syahirah and Rohaizatul that had witnessed the drama hantu the night before, they begin to think differently about the nature works surrounding them. Making things worst, Latifah uncle is a bomoh (shaman). Syahirah grandfather was a former ketua-kampung (village chief) and Rohaizatul brother-in-law is a penggali kubur (undertaker). Their work are not necessarily mystical, but their weird ‘carried-forward’ stories made these girl lend their ears with total concentration.

All of sudden, Latifah, the daughter of the rubber tapper, screamed and shouted with a strange loud pitch that broke the silence. She later fell to the school cement floor and twitching continuously. Her body bend and twisted. The other girls ran outside the classroom. Leaving the boys looking curiously at Latifah. Moments later, an English teacher came in to monitor the situation. Minutes, ustaz came in to control the situation. By this moment, the other girl had told the other school mates about the strange occurrence. A special assembly is held at the field. Students were wondering what really happened. As one person tells another, the story gets spookier. The 5th person tells about Latifah screaming like a crow and by 10^th person, Latifah screamed like a crow because his rubber-tapper ayah were interrupting the crows habitat. The other three girls were left fear as they would be next to be attacked by the ‘thing’. Because they seems to felt the same emotion moments before the freaky thing occurred: “takut, sejuk, pelik “. They all have heard what mother always said; be sure to take care of your hygiene as during PMS, ‘things’ easily comes to haunt.

Suddenly another girl screamed and dropped to the assembly field twitching. Two down, two more to go.

Klang Valley, the 20something sultry girl had gone to college and gathered at a plaza with shining tables and chair made of aluminum. One girl told about how lucky she got to hook up with this anak datuk which had splurged her with joy and materials. How this anak datuk had networks of friends consisting of artists and KL young high-profilers. While the other had just dumped his boyfriend. He is a player. The 20something then just felt the thrill and odds of finding interesting people amongst the 2 million plus Klang Valley citizen. Mr.Suave and 20something petite girl meet up somewhere and had a fun chat. Sundown and both find things lots in common. Deeper into the night, Mr.Suave got his wild imagination come through. His palm got an ‘’unlimited-unrestricted all-access’’ through 20something topographies. When Mr.Suave reaches the rubber in a pack, 20something quickly took it away and throw it outside the window. Asked why; she naughtily replied PMS just ended a week ago. She twitched too, but not because she was haunted or hysteria. Just euphoria.

Perhaps, its all in the mind ?

The Sacrosanct

People say that if we cut ourselves and bleed, the colour of blood would be red that differs slightly in hues or viscosity. The proclamation of independence for the United States stressed about the equality amongst its citizen.

The Malay rule of thumb has been passed on for generations. Like the Korean rule of thumb or wisdom which says: If you don’t have a problem, then it means you don’t have a life. Or Chinese with its proverb form of ‘failure to plan three days ahead, means a plan to failure’, the Malays during the kerosene lamp days were whispered with the sacrosanct purpose of living of preserving an identifier that becomes neither an order or rule. It becomes a permanent marker that provides the background or scenery for the plain cloth which we were metaphorically symbolized the moment we escaped from mothers womb.

And when we had the mind to think on our own, this low-opacity scenery and background on the ‘thin piece of cloth’ shall give us the whimsical clue of whats next? Before the first line is drawn, the first brushstrokes or first splash of colours; the elders has taught us about the alif ba ta. In short for Agama (religion), Bangsa (ethnic ) and Tanah Air ( sovereignty ). Whispers that shall passed on for generations and shall live for generations to come.

Alif-ba-ta. It must not be misunderstood for some sort of alarmist/scare-tactic philosophy passed by the elders. It is just a reminder of responsibility, integrity and origins. It is not a form of segregation of how superior Malays should be apart from other races; a very ethereal underlining that discipline us. It is never mend for a bloodshed purpose to start any kind of war, instead, a stand to firmly held with humbleness. Its neither a concrete block that stomp and obstruct us, and made us look like a horribly undiplomatic conservative, it is a driving machine that shall thrust us forward with distinction.

Through Alif-ba-ta, we began our little effort to obtain sovereignty. We achieved them by 1957, although the mat sallehs’ still managed to proxies their men in the ministries. Now that we had our airlines, car-maker and multi-billion cooperation that manages our petroleum, paddy, palm oil ( except for timber, left for cronies ) we had become a functioning self-managed nation.

If you look at lands around KLCC, Jalan Ampang these hotspot landplots were imposed with heavy selling-taxes to avoid quick profit-taking. This is for sure to avoid foreign big guns sweeping these lands with their huge spare cash. You sure do not want to demoralize your kids in the future, when they asked “ Wow! The land surrounding KLCC looks hippy and lively, to whom do they belong to mom/dad? “, you would be reluctant to answer “ Oh! Its owned by the mat sallehs “, that shall demoralize your kids don’t you think? The Malaysian then only owned semi-fertile land plots on the outskirts that barely make money; we question; is this the kind of sovereignty we wanted? The Ta ( tanah air ) homeland definition has somewhat been fulfilled.

Some may question: “ Why would my kids be demoralized if hotspot lands around KL is being owned by Mat Sallehs? They should be inspired to compete with the mat sallehs? Forget soverignity, reality is harsh“ . Then lets just do away with sovereignty ( Ta ) and settle with semi-sovereignty perhaps.

The Ba ( race ) or bangsa is a little tragic. UMNO who claimed to helm the effort in protecting, maintaining and defending of this little race has somewhat lost its shine and cracks start appearing everywhere. The rock foundation build 60 years ago seems to be sandblasted overtime, at this point revealing the steel core which currently being painfully submerged by salty corrosive sea water. People at the top should felt shaky of certain magnitude and we pray that the saddest day this once strong streamlined backbone collapse; the dust would not fill the sky and blocked the sun for the rest of us who had put our belief. Trends have proven that urban areas had tendency to vote something that is non UMNO. Which brought me to two conclusion: UMNO is a ‘among-themselves’ selected-malay elitist club or people are just plain tired of race based party. The Malaysian Malaysia party tried to push the idea that racial based party are just irrelevant and non-applicable in modern day Malaysia.

With the non-confrontational sopan-santun Pak Lah and bleak 2010 transition, UMNO will find its path to speedy-collapse way sooner than expect. We make away with defending our Race ( Ba ) because we felt living without the race identifier makes Malaysia a better place. Alright then. We can expect this huge race be ill-represented with a single senator in the parliament.

So we moved on to Alif (religion) or agama as a last bastion. Perhaps the only identifier for the rest of us which had lost ba (bangsa/race) and ta (tanah air/soverignity) to freethinking, free-speech, free-protest, free and other variant of free-ism. UMNO by this time had collapsed. Money-making lands, Petronas, Proton and Perwaja belonged to Jack, Smith or Roberts.

Alif. PAS seems to handle and walk in the religiously straight path of the politicus. They won Kedah and retained Kelantan. Making them one of the longest non-BN party to rule. Absolutely to had a handsome amount experience in administering and governing. Should PAS feel really comfortable? What if the superb marriage between PAS and this one visionary Malaysian Malaysia party turned sour? After banishing UMNO into oblivion by strongly proving to the people that racial-based party is very irrelevant, should Malaysian Malaysia party turn its medusa snakes to sting and paralyze PAS? They whispers into the heart and mind of people that religion-based party is very and horribly irrelevant. Do you think PAS will politically assemble its followers inside a stadium and screamed to its crowds that Islam is ad-din. Islam is the way of life. The religion that covers every aspect of life which includes politics? Malaysian Malaysia party would quizzically skew that type of rhetoric of how many Malaysian Muslim were really ad-din in becoming a Muslim?

Alif, for God sake. Things would not crumble in a hasty manner as UMNO did. But, PAS would be pushed back further. To the northern states. Kelantan, Kedah, Terengganu and Perlis. Where the Malaysian Malaysia party would sweep up urban ‘freethinking’ areas like Penang, Ipoh, KL and JB. In these urban places, they circulate local newsletters reminding to the urban folks about ‘stepping into a conservative area is dangerous’, the Northern-belt states shall be potrayed as vile, dark and underdeveloped with unlawful citizen with lack of order. While the rest were left to Adil to juggle their words.

Nowadays, talks about freethinking, free speech, free this and that felt like honey through the throat. Its almost like being unchained. Felt like flying through airplane free skies in an Ironman suit.

With all alif, ba, ta is lost, this little nation of Malaysia shall become what we knew as ‘separate and rule’. The idealogy which the colonial British used to create boundaries within the freshly collapsed Ottoman Empire. The creation of Syria, Iraq, Jordan, Lebanon and Palestine. All used to be in a single broad compounding boundaries, shattered and broken into many states. The Colonial British found its easy to find cooperation through this method. The propaganda and illicit support/recognition which they gave in return for a exploitation. A sledge hammer that hit the once strong Ottoman into various bits and pieces each claiming to have authority onto its own hands . The fire of ‘regionalism’.

As Alif falls, then it’s the Malaysian Malaysia party one way straight to crash and abolish the sultanate. We shall live in a nation where nothing unique and individuals has no common identifiers of sovereign, race or religion because these are factors that become a bane to progress, then we shall float in absolute freedom that some of us always wanted. Without etiquettes because it seems too conservative to tag it along our life. That moment the only order that shall partially dictate us perhaps the rule of law set by the government.

Alif Ba Ta. It meant a lot for us. Whether we had it strong in our heart, or just a flicker of wind resisting candle lit, we shall never forget that it’s the sacrosanct. No matter how many times we clean-slated and redefine life or how many times we had travelled to the corner or earth, alif-ba-ta.

The Pandora Agent

It’s your gateway price to Buenos Aires, it’s the stone touch that might heal cancer and Alzheimer's, it’s a guilt that left you option less. These people tickled the right spot with the right pressure, set the right temperature and do the dirty talking. It definitely shoved you to the tight spot: irresistibility.

It an SMS which you do not receive by chance on casual Sunday morning. My mobile buzzed for reason, but this time it brought surprise metaphorically speaking like pelican dropping through the chimney a bundle of cloth which contains a cute little baby. It sounded not verbatim like this “ SIM kad anda me-manangi RM10.000 me’lalui peraduan Petronas Malaysia. Untuk maklumat selajutnya sila hubungi 01X-XXX-XXXX “

Wow! Don’t mind about the crooked bahasa and decimal points. I’ve won RM10,000! Who would bring such joy on moody and slow Sunday morning filled with boring chores and round home maintenance job when this SMS came knocking on phone inbox with this kind of news! I would surely be proud and actively loving on Monday laughing my way to the bank! Collecting my reward!

Nothing sarcastic against odds of your SIM winning an out-of-nowhere lucky draw. In times millionaires popped out of nowhere and economy seems to slump where people are wary to purchase stuff; would you want to be the one who walked up the Volkswagen showroom and purchase a spicy red Golf GTi for yourself and a Passat for your parents, plus a Beetle of honey yellow flavor for your Ashley Tisdale wannabe little girly sister? The salesperson would be walking while leaking pee coming out soaking the socks imagining the commission that would be shoved into their a..? We are inspired by lucky stories with their out of world way of getting to fortunes, continuously dilating the flimsy possibility of ‘being rich out of thin air of luck’ into larger portions far away from realistically it deserves.

Yes, we do not buy what people say in advert stuck on an electric post or public phone post. There must be someone that we approached or approach us. They were the one which sweet talked, light the aroma candle, pour the honey, sprayed whipped cream and made situation seems like once in a blue moon. The con-men a.k.a the confidence men ( in some situation, women too ) . They were so confident that most people fell for what they said. They are confident because they seem to exploit things that we likely to falter. In times when determination runs to the last bit. They come like an ‘angel’ from the sky and provide help of different kind that sometimes defy convention. Yet, we go for it, as we only had hope left.

For instance, the stories of someone whom had a dying family member, or they themselves being diagnosed with a life threatening disease. I’m sure most of you have heart about ‘healing magic stones’, which is being sold with a large sum of money, that could cure chronic diseases which scientist themselves were struggling to de-cryptify the curing strain. Do some simple preparatory process such as soaking the stone with lime water, drink the water, repeat ever night before sleep and walla! You’re set to be as prime candidate of Amazing Race season 12! The con-men approached and exploit our grieve. Our fear of death. Our concern over health.

The most elusive and subtle exploitation over our healthcare deep concern can be seen in formula powder milk. It’s the kids whom drink that milk. The scientific jargon they used that sound illicitly intelligent. Exclude DHA and AHA, the other form of words which twists our tongue, the likes of fortidefenda, IQboostra and Growth-crapsputnik . All seems to be like an afterthought of the marketing department. Which perhaps has no hands in the development of the formula itself, but forced these jargon into the throat of new dad’s and mom’s. It’s the breast milk which is proven helpful and beneficial. But the added advantage of these additional eclectic formulas shall make tots as wickedly creative as Andy Warhol or as annoyingly speculative as George Soros, metaphorically acted by cute little kids on the adverts. All exploited out of parents concern over children health priority.

Stories of scratch & win and their multiple sub-species that vary in modus operadi are exposed in almost all major newspaper nearly each day. But the feeling of greed, sometimes just outspoken rationality and logic. Like a devil that stood on the left shoulder whispering words of hope which lighten the fire-of-confidence. Next, which made us scratch those cards and really believe they would be giving that materials of high-value. The con-men today seem to attend drama school of London or Cymru. They work in groups extending to different locations. They look at our scratched piece of card and utter in pre-acted speechless shock-ness “ Wow! Anda adalah benar-benar pemenang bertuah kita hati ini! “ ( Wow! You really have won big! )

“ Tapi… saya perlu call boss saya dahulu… Sebab dalam ramai orang menggores, inilah kali pertama puan/tuan memenangi hadiah sebegini rupa “ ( I had to call my boss first to confirm, as you’re the first to win such a big prize amongst many scratchers!!! )

The agent may call up his/her boss with a chirpy reaction due to possible amount of money that they might scam you ehem…. Basically, they’re chirpy because you earned a bombastic prize which he himself as an ‘agent’ never seems to witness such a winning. The agent then came back and asked you to wait while the boss is on the way to verify your magnanimous lucky win. Or the agent might be generous enough to take you to their some ‘makeshift’ offices which they can scramble off once they cheated enough make-believe winners. And the rabbit hole goes deeper from there on.

The agents may suck-dry on victims, which explains why rabbit hole of Alice in wonderland keeps spiraling deeper. The victim thought there was more money means more chances. Instead, these scammers mean more seafood meal to devour as they gather someday someplace.

Some scam even involves high-times and current affair which really happens around the world. For instance, the Iraq war in 2003. Years later, your e-mail account would be luckily dropped by a message by someone, of high ranking officer claiming that Saddam Hussein has a huge sum of money inside some Swiss bank undetected/not-confisticated by the US/CIA/FBI/Interpol etc. etc..He claimed to be high-ranker of the Saddam regime. The officer pleaded for your help in depositing a certain amount of money in order to facilitate the ‘transfer’ of that money. He agreed to do all the paperwork necessitated for the transfer. The officer promised that you will receive your share of the ‘Saddam Hussein’ secret savings. It just made you wonder that how incredibly corrupt Saddam officers could be. Agent just had poked the greed out of its victim.

Agents not only tried to trigger all those seven deadly sins. There are agents which ponder to good values instilled within us since pre-school. Values like sympathy, compassion and patience. In Japan where watermelons were considered an expensive fruit, a man would insert broken watermelon inside his/her bag. Later, they would wander around a busy spot where people walked everywhere while chatting about business deals on DoCoMo’s ( Imagine Bukit Bintang, Jalan Sultan Ismail junction ). The scammer would approach a mark and drop those broken watermelons inside the bag; acted it out as it was the busy DoCoMo chatters fault of being careless or reckless. Hence, when the bag is open to expose those broken watermelons, the victim would feel guilty and paying sums of money as for ex gratia. The scammer would be harrah-ing its way to the nearest seafood store for a steamboat treat as the original broken watermelon were of a cheap and low-quality kind.

Our celebrity scammer ( I mentioned celebrity as they make news headlines ) would be the infamous Taipings’ Pak Man Telo or Osman Hamzah. Active in the 1970’s, he pioneered a scheme under a company ( or famously known as Labu Peram ), in which lets people to invest a certain amount of money which guaranteed return in such a short term. Indeed, those who invested RM2000 would get RM4000 next month. Which bank, financial institution or investment arm would grant that kind of interest? They deposited RM8k and really got RM16k on the next month. Trying to gain more and gaining momentum, the RM16k were re-invested when it mysteriously went missing instead of doubling. The Labu Peram scheme was busted in 1989 and he is captured in 1991. He was expelled to Terengganu since then.

In the end of the day, we helplessly fell into the same trap overtime. We cannot blame on stories circulated around us which tells about a commoner whom reach millionaire status out of osmosis, we might get lucky sometimes. But lucky will never find its way through beating the odds of becoming a millionaire through hard work, perseverance and determination. After all decision is made on intelligence and information, we can only seem to hope for the best. Since, it was hope that did not escape from the Pandora urn. The Greek mythology tells us disease, jealousy, envy and all evil came out of the urn and inflict all men. Zeus timely closes that urn and left hope under the lid.