Dear John,

I was at first inclined to answer your comments on each point raised from your views that the Malays stole Malaysia from the Orang Asli and that Islam is ’fascist’ among other things. But considering that some of the comments made were offensive and provocative, I thought a generic approach would be more constructive. First of all, I’m Pro-Malaysia. Who I vote for in whatever circumstances, is something I feel is unneccessary  to advertise. The fact that you asked about both my religious and political beliefs tells me that I have succeeded in presenting  my views objectively enough to preclude identifiable political and religious beliefs. Too many decisions have been made and opinions given that were so obviously colored that the facts of the matter were effectively obscured.

Fact of the matter is that whether we can turn back time or not, we have to admit the reality that Malaysia is a multi-racial country. This means that at no time in the near future, is Malaysia likely to become a Islamic nation governed by the Syariah Law. We are not going to convert all non-Muslims to Islam and neither are all Muslims going to become apostates.  At the same time,   actions taken in the name of Islam (like looking for lovers in all the wrong places for a living) or hijacking the deceased in order to bury them the Muslim way (just in case they became Muslims at the last minute) , which may seem misguided to some and righteous to others – should not be equated with Islam the religion – just as the Inquisition should not be equated to Christianity and the continued oppression of the Palestinians  to Judaism.

Throughout the history of man terrible things have been committed  and continue to be committed in the name of religion be it Judaism, Christianity , Islam or other religions. We have to remain objective and separate the religion from the actions. Our spiritual health depends on it, for venom and contempt for others corrodes our faith.

Malaysians have to learn to live and work together whether they like it or not. Some may choose to be in racially distinct enclaves in terms of  where they live, work and study. Choose friends of their own race and socialise within their circle and avoid close contact or intimacy with the ‘others’. Look around us and see how many have succeeded in doing so and lived perfectly content lives.  But in doing so, all of us actually lose out on a much richer life experience  plus we continue to perpetuate racial polarisation, through lack of knowledge and understanding. 

No policy is going to integrate and unite Malaysians, however glamorous the campaigns and spokepersons -   unless and until we stop looking at each other as of different races but rather as just people who want the same things – a decent living, food, shelter, happiness, health , safety and a future for their children. And oh, courtesy for fellow Malaysians and fellow man, among others.

Entertainment, Malaysian Style

The sensational always seems to be part of what makes people buy papers, watch talkshows and exchange comments over teh tarik and nasi lemak. Recently, the controversy of a ‘blasphemous’ remark resulted in a Malay comedienne being ‘gummed’ and the ‘offensive’ lyrics of a song “Papa Jahat” being changed to me were prime examples of sensationalism affecting judgement.

Preventing someone from earning a living as chastisement for a silly remark is spiteful, in my opinion. While it was unwise for her to seemingly equate herself with the Prophet’s wife, (after all the only similarity was that of age and younger men – how dare she..), it hardly merits shutting her out of performing in one television station and effectively discouraging others to employ her. Artistes in Malaysia have a notoriously short shelf life except for a select, lucky few. It is cavalier to say’ its only for one year’ when one has a fixed income to someone who doesn’t.

Another example of hypocrisy to me is the unreasonably sensitive reaction to the lyrics of “Papa Jahat” where a child says that to a father who is unfaithful to the mother. Why so defensive? There is a Malay saying ” siapa makan cili, rasalah pedasnya!” (those who eat chillies, will have to accept that chillies are hot, for goodness sake!). There must be many men out there, including the sanctimonious ones who go around censoring lyrics of Malay songs yet remain blissfully ignorant of lyrics of English songs (” My Humps”, “Smack That” and a host of other hip-hop sexist , suggestive and demeaning to women song lyrics), who feel that they must defend their honour of their sex in this way.

This must be the Malaysian way – to penalise artistes who say their piece – not conforming to what is ‘acceptable’ in terms of the facade of Malaysian life and culture. Never mind that there are rich and successful men who discarded their wives to marry women half their age – May and December relationships are only acceptable – even milked for their media value if it’s older male and much younger female – not the other way round please, we’re Malaysian. Intelligent lyrics that remind men to better husbands and responsible father cum role models aren’t acceptable because Malay men in Malaysia are good husbands and great role models for their children. Let us not mention the ever increasing divorce rate among the Malays, recent tragedies involving children whose father was seemingly unfaithful or the many cases pending in Syariah Courts of errant fathers who do not support their children once they divorce or marry another.

As responsible Malaysians, we need to look beyond the obvious and superficial. We have the depth of character and the spiritual power as a nation to tackle the underlying problems that come from applying hypocrisy as policy. We should stop sensationalising the superficial and set our priorities straight. ‘Gum’ the producers of the talkshow, reprimand the over-enthusuastic and insensitive  hosts – have responsible programming and proper guidelines and policies for such shows. Proactive not reactive decision-making.  Compassion not condemnation, please for we are Malaysians.. We can think for ourselves and not have our opinions set out for us.

Mothers

Mothers aren’t the most comfortable of people to be around. Somehow, they have this gift of seeing right through carefully prepared reasons/rationale / justifications that we have for not doing or doing something important in our lives.

 A sharp glance, a piercing look that says “You’ve got to be joking! That won’t wash with me after all I gave birth to you and with that came this God-given  gift of cutting through the nonsense /half-truths /lame excuses that you are dishing out to me” .

We gird our loins in preparation; sift through possible cracks in our story and tell ourselves firmly that we are not going to say anything about that topic –-  after all we are adults and should be able to handle our problems at school/university/work/relationships with boyfriend /husband/ son/daughter -  only to find when we are face to face with her, that all that was for naught and we end up admitting to our insecurities and fears – carefully-built defences in tatters.

Through the extra salt they have partaken, their wisdom allows us to clarify our thoughts, shed our defence mechanisms and painfully admit the truth to ourselves, which may be any one of the following:

“ It is my fear of failure that holds me back from trying and for shooting myself in the foot”

“ There is no future in that relationship and I hate it that she was right!”

“ I should have been at home more and paid attention to what he/she was doing”

“ It is my fault for procrastinating starting the project/studying for the exam/sending in that application and now its too late”

The most painful truth of all :” I have no one else to blame (however much I want to – after searching desperately high and low for a convenient scapegoat) but MYSELF for this situation”

At the same time, mothers go around with pins that deflate our balloons of  pseudo-confidence. Just when you thought it was safe to step out of your shell and into the world with style,  ‘pop’ goes one of our balloons ..Just a simple remark from the mother of a news reader “ that suit was the wrong colour for you” would be enough for you to cringe, “ I must have looked awful”, however professional you may have sounded and looked to the multitude of viewers – after all, your mother’s opinion was what matters most. Perhaps not to all well-adjusted professionals out there who have learnt to take their mother’s opinions with more than a pinch of salt!

Conversely, there are mothers out there who shore up their children’s confidence in their abilities however unrealistically (judging from the horrific auditions for singing competitions in the US and good old Malaysia). Perhaps, their lack of judgement of their children’s true ability are clouded by unfulfilled dreams and wishful thinking of the indiscriminating taste of the voting audience. Thankfully, there are level-headed mothers out there who know when to push, when to hold back, when to hug, when to praise and when keep the pin behind their back, even though the temptation may be great.   

I don’t know how good a mother I am, no, that’s not exactly true – I’m a great cheerleader for my children’s achievements, to the point of embarrassing them sometimes. But when they do not do their best, I do find it hard to hide my disappointment and that maybe that makes me a bad mother.My children think my disappointment stem from the high expectations I have of them – which at certain times they are unable to fulfil . When they don’t seem to realize is that as a mother, it hurts to see your children face the painful reality of life whether it is weaker grades than they had hoped for, missed project deadlines, annoyed lecturers/teachers, errant fathers, selfish girlfriends, jealous boyfriends and worse of all, an uncertain future – anything in fact that causes them to be unhappy.

I feel their hurt, confusion and pain and want so much to make it better. They are too old for me to kiss the hurt away and hug and rock them till they stop crying. They are almost adults – or perhaps it is because they are old enough to deal with all this on their own that my pain is greater. It isn’t because I don’t feel needed – it is because they have to come to this realisation by themselves . In order to become an adult and participate in life – they have to do it on their own. And I have to let go.

To all the mothers out there, my comrade in arms, let us take comfort from the fact that our children did after all learn the basics from us – to the best of their abilities. Where they go from that point – we cannot follow. What we can do is make the hard decisions when they falter – to tell them the truth and help them face themselves and support them with love and belief in their abilities. Pray that they will learn from the hard knocks in life as well as not take for granted the blessings they experience every day. The greatest favour a mother can do for her child is to look them in the eye and unflinchingly tell them what they need to know in order to take the next step. Sometimes, it’s the truth, sometimes it is not. O for the wisdom to know the difference , to say it the right way or to just be there for them.

26 March 2007

31 August – A Day To Remember

A Malaysian flag billowing in the wind of a deserted courtyard of a mission school in a sleepy town. Other smaller flags on cars, flutter like the small flags strung on a string around the school. Another stretches in the middle of a government buildingo , too small to go all the way across. On television, a Malay drama attempts unsuccessfully to examine the life of a family through the eyes of a young boy – the New Malay after 49 years of independence. A series of articles in the media and advertisements strive to remind us to look beyond the flags, to the people who fought for our independence, to look at what we have accomplished and value our country. All this, a week before the 31^st of August, Malaysia’s day of independence.

Sixty years ago, a 15 year old boy joined group of young men gathered at a field in the sleepy town on the East Coast to protest the Malayan Union. Years later, the same young man would be among those who joined Tunku Abdul Rahman to cry “Merdeka”. As the editor of “Suara Merdeka”, UMNO’s voice in the early years, he played an important role in the formative years of our young country in unifying the Malays during an era where the pen was indeed mighty. All his life he fought to make our lot in life better than his, and our country better than what it was when he was growing up.He was my father and it is his spirit that I remember most when 31^st August dawns.

It is a unique country we live in, so rich in many ways, so much to offer those lucky enough to live within its borders and beyond it as well. For those who felt that our shortcomings were enough to drive them from our shores, I know that they will return – sooner or later for this will always be their home. A country where nasi lemak, roti canai and kuey teow goreng (among others) reign supreme signifying strangely the point where all races meet – food! After 50 years of independence, racial stereotypes and polarisation still exist but where food is concerned, there are no boundaries of colour or creed (except the “halal” certification.)

The Malaysian tongue is Malay and English a strong second, sometimes first among the upper middle-class and either a second or foreign language among the rest of society. Where food unites us, language divides us – not that we don’t understand English or Malay when spoken or written but the inability to use either language well becomes a sore point and often wielded as example of how patriotic or unpatriotic a Malaysian is. It is sad that a lack of basic Chinese and Tamil is acceptable and normal in a multiracial society like Malaysia. In countries like the USA (I know this wouldn’t be a popular example, but there are some things they do right), learning Spanish is considered important in order to communicate with Hispanics which make up a sizable number in certain states. We should use each other’s language interchangeably in order to feel more Malaysian perhaps even to become more Malaysian. When a foreigner learns the Malay language, we feel gratified. Imagine the goodwill we build when we learn the language our neighbours and friends speak. In that way too, we learn to be more tolerant of the struggle many go through to learn English when they regard it as a foreign language.

Religion is very much a part of being Malaysian and we have a age-old tradition for religious tolerance as exemplified by Unity Street in Melaka and festivals that we celebrate together. Nowadays though, religion is a touchy subject what with Article 11 being lobbed back and forth like a tennis ball by groups decrying its shortcomings or using it as a platform. The freedom to practise one’s religion is in our country is both a right and a privilege that is not common in every country of the world. The government walks a fine line between preserving the rights of Muslims and non-Muslims alike to practise what they believe in while ensuring that the integrity of the official religion of the country is not impugned in any way, whether by those with deviant beliefs or those who preach to Muslims. The strange thing about this issue is that for those who give fiery speeches about how fellow Muslims should treat apostates, do they ask themselves why do people leave Islam? How effective is our system whether at community, district, state or federal level in teaching born Muslims what Islam is all about? Do Muslim communities have a support system that extends outside the family that is able to help fellow Muslims whether they are lost or found, born Muslim , born again Muslims or new Muslims?

As Muslims, we are told to examine ourselves all the time (muhasabah) in order to learn and improve ourselves. In dealing with a potentially explosive and extremely thorny issue, have Muslims examined themselves especially how they treat those who are different or those who have strayed? How have they contributed to the well-being of others be it Muslim or non-Muslim?

Let us not even begin to look into the policies, the heavily theoretical religious education curriculum and the money spent on preaching to the converted. The persistent discriminatory slant against women in terms of policies and an over-emphasis on the ritualistic aspect of Islam over the spiritual understanding of its wisdom by certain parties have alienated many. Apostasy is a symptom, not the disease. Any doctor worth his or her salt will treat the patient’s disease as indicated by the symptom. As Malaysians, we should not allow anyone to politicise this potentially explosive issue to divide us. Instead we should draw upon our tradition of tolerance and learn from other Muslim communities all over the world how best to deal with individuals who have left the religion. That after all is what we do best, look at what others have done, study the research (in this case the Quran, Hadith and Sunnah) thoroughly and come up with our own approach.

We Malaysians whether we would like to admit it or nor share common universal and typically Asian values; filial piety, respect and deference to elders, close community and familial ties, integrity and compassion among others. When these values are eroded, our society weakens. Our youth lose direction and ambition, their parents forget to lead, our leaders espouse the obvious yet contribute by their inaction to the rot that is seeping through this country. It’s a malaise that saps our spirit and momentum to strive ahead. Short-term gains are preferred to long-term constructive policies that require thought and effort. Wisdom is in short supply.

Malaysians of vision, I salute you for having the strength and stamina to realise your dreams; whether it is a vision of a better life – financial independence, freedom to travel, a dream house ( the typical multi-level marketing dreams) for we live in a country that is peaceful and bountiful and dreams when backed by determination and sweat, more often than not, can come true. There are the sounds of either birds chirping or the ‘suratkhabar lama’ call to greet us when we wake up, depending upon whether you are an early bird or laze in bed type. Not the sound of gunfire and mortar or army boots outside your door, like what others have to live with. Our children grow up replete, fed on a diet of KFC, nasi lemak , entertained by their CN and sighing over endless tuition classes they dutifully go to. Classrooms without walls, queuing up for food and clean water amid the dust and drabness of a refugee camp, seeing friends and family shot and killed in front of their eyes is not their lot in life.

Adversity builds strength of character – so a cliché goes. Are we then to deprive our children or ourselves in order to build character? Malaysians have it easy, so easy that we forget to be polite and considerate to our nearest and dearest even much less strangers. We have to be reminded to be clean and hygienic, to take our children across the road ourselves, to be safe drivers, to be honest and not fleece unsuspecting tourists, to smile – We have to be reminded of the obvious through endless, expensive campaigns for we have forgotten how to be true Malaysians.

Who are they, this disappearing breed of True Malaysians?

The Malaysian women who 49 years ago thought nothing of giving away jewellery off their wrists to finance the trip to London to negotiate our independence.

The Chinese policeman who put his life on the line and more often than not paid for it with his life by working Special Branch during the Emergency

The Malay civil servants who struggled to build establish current national institutions and systems with very little resources, much thought and wisdom plus a whole lot of heart

The armed forces who ‘masuk hutan’ to keep our borders safe, risking and losing life and limb – unsung heroes who gave us the peace we enjoy today

The early leaders of all races, whether at national or grassroots level who fought to unite us through endless rallies, meetings, compromising ego and spending their own money to make people believe that Malaysia can exist, survive and flourish, even if we did not have the resources to produce a simple needle

The people who looked beyond race to save lives of neighbours, friends and strangers during that dark period of our nation’s history – 13 May 1969

The teachers who served in all circumstances whether small kampungs without running water and electricity, or estates with students of all ages in one class to educate the leaders of today

The list of true Malaysians is endless if we take from the past and present. If we are not careful, there may not be any left for the future for it seems they are an endangered species…

Let us take a good hard look at ourselves, our children, our family and friends. In this life that we lead courtesy of the Almighty, we ask ourselves what can we do to be a better person, a better Malaysian who can help move this country we love out of a turbulent yet indulgent adolescence into a responsible, nurturing adulthood (in country years). Selflessness, tolerance, integrity, strength and wisdom are components of the true Malaysian’s character. Let us build upon our strengths, rectify our flaws and stop being self-indulgent. We should remember our heroes past and present and nurture the minds, hearts and spirits of our youth for they will receive our legacy. Only when we have the clarity of vision and courage to make hard decisions, carry through and maintain the momentum of change, will we be able to be in the same league economically and socially with other countries within ASEAN borders and beyond. Let us not be remembered as a country that ‘could have been great if only…’

After the fact

I panicked tonight when I had to leave my son alone at home. I was on the highway when the feeling of unease I had felt all night threatened to overwhelm me and I felt like I had to turn back. I managed to swallow the panic and saw my errand through. After all, it wasn’t like he’s a child.. being almost eighteen qualifies him for almost adulthood. It was the news of the break in at my aunt’s house (KB);the burglary at my boss’s house (USJ) and the robbery in Section 5 where the owner, the ex police chief, succumbed to injuries after fighting with the robbers, protecting his family; the robbery in Subang Parade, let’s not mention the robbers who assaulted two strapping young men in their own home… a whole litany of incidents in my neighbourhood, in my hometown; places I’ve always felt were safe before. Is this the price we pay to live our lives the way we want to? Why is it we cannot depend on the police to protect us? Crimes it seems cannot be anticipated, predicted and sometimes perhaps not even solved or prosecuted. Have we lost our focus as a society when the mechanisms designed to protect victims and prosecute the perpetrators seem to be impotent? We react after the fact – deaths have an impact unlike assaults – predictable indignation, expressions of regret, exhotations for change then selective amnesia sets in.. and we conveniently forget yet again..

The man who died as a result of the robbery of his home lived a life of honour, courage and integrity. There was another man who died a a couple of years ago when he came to the aid of a snatch theft victim. Will their deaths change this climate of fear we live in today? Amid the sunny news of a reviving economy, smiling tourists and high tech toilets some may say ” a climate of fear” is an exaggeration and the rising crime rate is normal even debatable (I’m sure statistics can be found to prove otherwise) for a rapidly developing country like Malaysia.

I live in a house with an alarm system in an upper middle-class neighbourhood. A dead body was found in the playground behind my house,  a boy  was assaulted and the neighbour’s dog poisoned and the house ransacked; all within a radius of less than 1 km from my house.  Neighbourhood associations hire their own security guards and we are no exception. I’m not paranoid but is it too much to ask to feel safe in one’s own home in a neighbourhood like USJ Subang Jaya? Perhaps it’s too much to ask , after all it seems even VIP’s are not safe in Putrajaya. If we live in relative insecurity, how do others feel in other neighbourhoods?

Must it be like the water we pay for to use yet is undrinkable unless we treat it and filter it at our own expense? Our security must be our own responsibility – privatised and outsourced.. Is it because the authorities feel we have the means and can afford it like we can afford the toll hikes? Or is it just that our police departments have other fish to fry… road blocks to check drivers using handphones, lovers in isolated spots…  patroling neighbourhoods doesn’t seem to be on the agenda. So do we continue to live in fear?

The Road Not Taken

 Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;Then took the other, just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

This poem continue to be popular as its sentiments ring true for those who chose the less traveled road. Never an easy choice, definitely not for those who wish to lead a comfortable life. Conformity in Malaysia for Malaysians comes at the price of integrity and principles at times.  To those who rock the boat especially the Mufti of Perlis and Yasmin Ahmad, I salute you. We tend to forget the lessons that Prophet Khidhir taught Moses; not everything is obviously laid out, not all choices are  so simple or clear.  But our guiding principle should always be that He knows Best being All-Knowing. We should adhere to the spirit of Islam (tolerance, forgiveness, trust) even if it comes at the price of being different and a non-conformist in a closed and stagnant society. The path is  less traveled but it is not crooked..

The Clod and the Pebble

“Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a heaven in hell’s despair.”

So sung a little clod of clay,
Trodden with the cattle’s feet;
But a pebble of the brook
Warbled out these meters meet:

“Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to its delight,
Joys in another’s loss of ease,
And builds a hell in heaven’s despite.”

William Blake

Thoughts on the nature of love. What are we, clods for allowing the pebbles to rule? 

 

Hello world!

Reaching one’s midlife is a great excuse to look back and examine the milestones behind and also look ahead at all there is still to accomplish. Since I’ve been writing almost all of my life, first in the little 555 notebooks (at 9) and later in exercise books and notebooks (even started to write an autobiography at 12, though Adrian Mole beat me to the best seller’s list), journals and in my beloved laptop, blogging is the next step on my journey to be all that I can be (trite and unoriginal but apt).

A means to share opinions, thoughts, feelings  about events, issues, people past and present … Not so much pearls of wisdom as much as petals of a rose, scattered in the winds  of cyberville.  My two cents worth..