livewellsimple

He that goes a borrowing

2012-01-22T12:05:00.003+08:00

“He that goes a borrowing goes a sorrowing.” - Benjamin Franklin

Seems some people can't live by such a simple philosophy. So, while everybody else is saying Keong Hee Tua Huat Chai, a neighbor also Tua Huat!!! Tua huat phi khee!!! (phee khee = temper (hokkien dialect). And she's taking it out on the kids and raising a racket in the house turning the radio on full blast!!!

Why?

Because she fell into the borrowing habit. First, she borrowed from one. Then she borrowed to pay the first one. Then she borrowed more from others. Then she added more debts to her list. And then she added more debtors.

It's not that she's dirt poor. She used to have a maid too (until the maid ran away due to her abuse).

Today one of her creditors, after many visits to her house, made a final 'assault' after many ultimatums. She had to pay up, or else...

Now, talking about borrowing reminds me about our country's foreign debt.....

Oh, forget it!! It's the Lunar New Year tomorrow. Let's not spoil this mood. Let's just be happy. Shut our minds to the bad thoughts. Shut our ears to unhappy noises. Open them to New Year music and songs. Other neighbors are happily singing karaoke and some are yelling 'yaaaaammmssseeennnggg!!!'.

Now, those are happy noises.

Lay out the table, heat up the wok and the pots, pour out the wine. Eat up, drink up.

Cheers.

The Old Rooster

2011-10-10T22:11:00.000+08:00

A farmer went out one day and bought a brand new stud rooster for his hen house. The young rooster walked over to the old rooster and said "Ok, old fellow, time to retire."

The old rooster said, "You can't handle all these chickens....look at what it did to me!"

The young rooster replied, "Now, don't give me a hassle about this. Time for the old to step aside and the young to take over, so take a hike."

The old rooster says, "Aw, c'mon.....just let me have the two old hens over in the corner. I won't bother you."

The young rooster said, "Scram! Beat it! You're washed up! I'm taking over!"

So, the old rooster thought for a moment and then said to the young rooster, "I'll tell you what, young fellow, I'll have a race with you around the farmhouse. Whoever wins the race gets domain of the chicken house."

The young rooster said, "You know I'm going to beat you, old man, just to be fair, I'm even going to give you a head start." They lined up in back of the farm house, got a chicken to cluck "Go!" and the old rooster took off running.

A short while later the young rooster took off after him. They went round the front of the farm house and the young rooster was only about a few paces behind the old rooster and gaining fast.

The farmer, sitting on the porch, looked up, saw what was going on, grabed his shotgun and promptly shot the young rooster. "Dammit! he said, "That was the third gay rooster I bought this week!"

Moral of the story: Don't play-play with old roosters.

To All those Born in 1940's, 50's , 60's & early '70s...

2011-10-09T16:10:00.000+08:00

NOTE: This message (with lots of modifications) has been around as far back as my blogging mind can remember....

---------------------------------------------------------------

First, we survived with mothers who had no maids. They cooked/ cleaned while taking care of us at the same time.

They took aspirin, candy floss, fizzy drinks, shaved ice with syrups and diabetes was rare. Salt added to Pepsi or Coke was remedy for fever.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets.

As children, we would ride with our parents on bicycles/ motorcycles for 2 or 3. Richer ones in cars with no seat belts or air bags.

Riding in the back of a private taxi was a special treat.

We drank water from the tap and NOT from a bottle.

We would spend hours on the fields under bright sunlight flying our kites, without worrying about the UV rays which never seemed to affect us.

We went to the jungle to catch spiders without worries of Aedes mosquitoes.

With mere 5 pebbles (stones) would be a endless game. With a ball (tennis ball best) we boys would run like crazy for hours.

We caught guppies in drains / canals and when it rained, we swam there.

We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually worried about being unhygienic.

We ate salty, very sweet & oily food, candies, bread and real butter and drank very sweet soft sweet coffee/ tea, ice kacang, but we weren't overweight because.......

WE WERE OFTEN OUT PLAYING!!

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, till street lights came on.

No one was able to reach us all day.WE DID NOT HAVE HANDPHONE S TO BUG US. And we were O.K. AND WE WERE SAFE.

We would spend hours repairing our old bicycles and wooden scooters out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

We did no t have Playstations, X-boxes, Nintendo's, multiple channels on cable TV, DVD movies, no surround sound, no phones, no personal computers, no Internet. WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and we still continued the stunts.

We never had birthdays parties till we were 21

We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and just yelled for them!

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!

Yet this generation has produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!

The past 40 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.

We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned ..

HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!

And YOU are one of them!

CONGRATULATIONS!

You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids, before the government 'regulated' our lives for our own good.

And while you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave their parents were.

P/S: -The big font used is because of Long-sightedness or hyperopia at our age.

BY THE WATERS OF THE TEMBELING

2011-10-09T12:56:00.003+08:00

I discovered this cutting in one of my old books... and I became lost in it...

A Poem by Cecil Rajendra
Published in the Sunday Star, July 5, 1981

* for Ong Soo Keat

Part I

By the waters of the Tembeling
where samba deer
and seladang undisturbed
roam where the buffalo
tapir and the wild boar play...

By the waters of the Tembeling
where drongo
and hornbill criss-cross skies
where bamboo
genuflect to kiss the river...

By the waters of the Tembeling
my mind roamed
across our gauche and grace-
less cities-
their emissaries of greed
and destruction;
a flotilla of timber lorries.

And by the waters
of the Tembeling
I sat down and wept.

Part II

No piranha menace
the waters
of the Tembeling
but sharks
with buzz-saw teeth
are everywhere...

As the mist lifted off
Bukit Teresek
I saw a once virgin
jungle in dishabille:
torn, ravished, bruised
Used by gangs
of loggers, she lay in
tatters, while
lascivious one-eyed
helicopters circled
overhead and ogled.

From her lacerated
side I watched
a stream of laterite
trickle to bloody
the waters of Tembeling

As the mist lifted off
Bukit Teresek
I heard the witches'
whine
of chain-saw cutter
Clack
and cackle of bulldozer
cracked
the song of bulbul
and cricket.
I saw juggernauts in
every corner
set about dismantling
our forest.

A cirrus of diesel
hovered like a vulture
waiting to take over
this land and its people.

No piranha menace
the waters
of the Tembeling
but sharks
with buzz-saw teeth
are everywhere...

Whither My Dreams?

2011-10-09T11:01:00.001+08:00

I broke some chains
from around my heart
hoping
to find my dreams intact
but there's nothing in it

only broken pieces
which don't match
nor fit together
to form an image

this emptiness
gets more hollow
each time I listen to it
but
I can hear no echoes
I can't see any reflections

the hunger pangs
are harder to bear
than those of an empty belly

and lord, it's dark in there

Old Tea Pot

2011-10-08T23:01:00.000+08:00

While washing up the coffee pot this morning an old story came to mind.

On a five-foot-way of good old Penang's Heritage enclave, some 'uncles' were having a leisurely tea session when who should walk by but an 'angmoh' tourist toting a back pack. He was looking high and low taking in every little detail of the quaint scenery.

As he got close to where the old uncles were seated, he paused and stared at an old and brown-stained tea pot sitting on a tray, from which one of the uncles occasionally poured tea for his friends. He was so strangely attracted by the tea pot that he inquired on the spot as to whether the owner was willing to sell it.

Surprise gave way to greed as the old guy contemplated making some good money out of this strange angmoh who seemed deranged enough to want to buy an old and well-used teapot, one which he can get from any crockery shop in town for a pittance.

He said he was willing to part with this 'heirloom' for $200.

The tourist haggled for a lesser amount. They finally settled at a price of $150. The old man said for him to come back in an hour's time so that he and his friends can finish their tea session. The tourist said OK, paid him a deposit for the pot and went his way promising to be back later to collect his purchase.

When he came back later he was shown a sparkling clean tea pot. The old man had given the gem a good scrubbing and polishing job and felt mighty proud of it too. The shiny thing almost looked new. But to his surprise and dismay, the 'angmoh' refused to accept it as the pot he had paid the deposit for.

'No, no no...' he said. 'That's not the teapot I wanted. The one I wanted was a real antique and brown in color with tea-stains all over. I don't want one that is cleaned and polished! It's of no value to me. Now give me the one I wanted or give me back my deposit!'

The old guy reluctantly returned his deposit.

Hence, I'm told, to this day those old uncle tea drinkers don't polish their teapots. They just throw out the used tea leaves and rinse them out.

This Old Mango Tree

2011-10-08T20:44:00.001+08:00

This amazing mango tree

will not just lay down

nor whither off

and die

without trying to live

yet another season

another burst of new leaves

fresh blooms

slowly turning into fruits

still providing oxygen

and still offer

what limited shade

it could give

for some random cars

to park beside

it still stands

steadfastly

strong

and steady

never willing

to give up...

A Geeky Rat

2011-10-05T21:46:00.000+08:00

A geeky rat hitched a ride in my car to the shop this afternoon. Maybe he's looking for some spares to upgrade his PC home...

On the way back after installing a CPU for a customer located on the east side of town, I dropped by at another client's place to pick up two more 'stalled' PCs.

The place was rigged up like an ultra-modern office with wall-to-wall carpeting. I had to leave my shoes outside the glass doors. They told me those 2 units just couldn't turn on. One of them was still under a desk in dark and lonely cubicle. I signed off the paperwork, I picked up the CPUs and loaded them into the boot of the Myvi.

After I'd reached the shop and parked the car, I retrieved one of the CPUs and stepped up to the walk-way in front of the shop. Before I could reach the door, a large rat jumped out of the CPU I was holding and scooted off before I could say, 'Rats!'.

He probably just wanted to go shopping at Tesco nearby and needed a free ride. But, hey! He went in the wrong direction!

I stared after it for a moment. Then I looked at the casing and noticed wet patches on the side. I put down the thing and went back to the car. Sure enough, there were wet spots in the boot. He pissed in my car!!!

I was lucky I stored the PCs in the boot, not on the back seat. And double lucky for me the Myvi's boot came with a large shallow plastic tray. All i had to do was to pull it out and give it a good wash.

Note to self: Next time don't just pick up a CPU and load it into the car without checking for stowaways. They can be infested not just with viruses and worms, you can't be sure there are no rats or snakes nesting in them. Urgh!!!

Mr. Aro Left Us A Number

2011-09-16T22:18:00.000+08:00

The day our Arowana died I felt a hollow somewhere inside.

Seems like when we share space with another living thing, we become familiar with its life and habits and we develop a kind of emotional attachment to it. That's why I refer to him as Mr. Aro. He's more than just a fish. He's a Golden Arowana. At times I wished he could bark and wag his tail, perhaps like a Golden Retriever. But all I got was his enthusiastic dashing around, expecting me to feed him whenever I took down the container of fish food.

That morning when I raised the shutters, opened the glass door and stepped into the shop I had an awful feeling. Mr. Aro no longer swam over to greet me, waiting eagerly for his breakfast.

I'd become accustomed to his eye-balling me and following me around every morning as I moved about switching on the lights, the air-cond and the PCs.

But that morning I looked at his tank and my heart sank. He was floating deadly still, pale looking, tail down and head hanging behind some pipes and cables in a far corner of his tank. I didn't switch on his tank light. (I wanted to take a picture but couldn't bring myself to do it).

As I was extra busy that day, with Jeff and wife away attending a seminar, I went about attending to business first. Then I sent Jeff a message saying, 'so sorry, the fish is dead'. He was too busy to read my message, so the next call I got from him, after finishing work discussions, I told him.

He called later and told me to wrap it up in plastic and keep it until he came back from the seminar. He wanted to have a last look. After all, he was the one who raised Mr. Aro from a fry of 3 inches. That was 10 years ago.

I wrapped Mr. Aro in plastic, went out and bought half kilo of coarse salt, 2 bags of ice and packed him in a box and left the box in the back of the shop over the weekend.

The strange thing was, a few days before Mr. Aro died, he did a curious thing. He thrashed around in the tank like crazy. Fearing that it might have been a short circuit, I switched off the power supply to the circulation pumps and light. (Of course, there's no such danger. Fishes can't get electrocuted, I was told). In the dimness of the tank I noticed a 4-digit inscription on his left gill plate.

Well, I'm no punter. I don't gamble. Besides, most of those 4 digits can be a number ranging from 0 to 9. Your guess is a good as mine.

R.I.P. Mr Aro. Wish you a better existence in the big river in the sky.

Crooners contest & some imitations

2011-09-04T16:17:00.005+08:00

A niece made a RM100 donation to the Sin Min School building fund. But since she was busy with other obligations I got to go and listen to the top crooners in this North Zone finals of the singing contest. All 20 contestants were equally good with their performances. The songs they chose to perform ranged from the 50s to the 80s. Nothing interesting for the younger set.

Somehow they seemed to rush through the contest with one singer coming in immediately after another, not unlike a fashion show. The judges probably had a stressful time.

But I think they didn't make the show any better by bringing in some imitation Teresa Tengs (while the judges were doing their arithmetic).... all 4 of them. One of them sounded so convincingly like Teresa herself and even looked like her when she was in her 20s.

3rd photo shows part of the official (but boring) cheque presentation ceremony with all the Datuks & Datins sauntering all over the stage.

They collected RM828,000 for the fund. That, I'm told was just to buy the vacant plot of land.

Check where the heat is coming from

2011-08-21T12:02:00.003+08:00

Staying married is like keeping an electrical appliance running. You have to keep feeling and watching where the heat is coming from. If it’s coming from the right places, be happy that things are going well. If it is from an inappropriate place then you have to check where the source is. Is it coming from loose joint, jammed parts or ruptured cable?

Sometimes you can’t find where the fault is until you see sparks flying. When that happens, you have to shut down the appliance, find the cause of the problem and correct the fault before everything goes haywire.

Sometimes there is just that irritating buzz and rattle and you get a whiff or two of burnt insulation. That’s the best time to correct the fault and solve an impending problem before it flares up (and sparks fly and things get ugly).

The best way to keep an appliance running perfectly is keep checking periodically and maintaining it. Prevention is better than cure.

But this is not a perfect world. So don’t be dismayed that sometimes you still get some unexpected sparks or shocks from unexpected sources. Best thing you can do is ensure it doesn’t get too big or happen too often.

A Feeling of Weightlessness

2011-08-18T09:57:00.008+08:00

Sometimes

I feel like I’m a loose piece of Styrofoam

floating around in the water,

going whichever way the current takes me

or whichever way the wind blows.

Sometimes,
like the lightweight piece of debris,

I go round and round in circles

because the tide flows in one direction

and the wind blows the other way.

Weightless.
My mind is drifting aimlessly

And just like any piece of packing material,

used and discarded,

or chucked in a corner

for any ‘just-in-case’ occasion

I lose my direction.

I could not forsee

I thought I was such

a happy-go-lucky ex-worker
glad to get out of the rat race

heading for the retirement village

only to be waylaid
and recycled

for some other purposes.

So
is this all

a part of life?

is it just an existence?

to be borne till the day

Someone switches off

this life-support system?

In the US the recession has hit everybody really hard...

2011-08-09T22:08:00.003+08:00

Thanks, Quinnie for this one....
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My neighbour got a pre-declined credit card in the mail.

CEO's are now playing miniature golf.

Exxon-Mobil laid off 25 Congressmen.

A stripper was killed when her audience showered her with rolls of
pennies while she danced.

I saw a Mormon with only one wife.

If the bank returns your check marked "Insufficient Funds," you call
them and ask if they meant you or them.

McDonald's is selling the 1/4 ouncer.

Angelina Jolie adopted a child from America.

Parents in Beverly Hills fired their nannies and learned their children's
names.

My cousin had an exorcism but couldn't afford to pay for it, and they
re-possessed her !

A truckload of Americans was caught sneaking into Mexico.

A picture is now only worth 200 words.

When Bill and Hillary travel together, they now have to share a room.

The Treasure Island casino in Las Vegas is now managed by Somali
pirates.

And, finally....

I was so depressed last night thinking about the economy, wars, jobs,
my savings, Social Security, retirement funds, etc., I called the Suicide
Hotline. I got a call centre in Pakistan, and when I told them I was
suicidal, they got all excited, and asked if I could drive a truck !

I'm a lot

2011-08-04T22:14:00.000+08:00

I'm a hero to some
a nobody to others
a saint to a few
a Mr fix-it sometimes
a butler
a shoulder (to cry on)
an ATM
an 'uncle' to many
a son to a couple of old folks
a 'brother' to all
a dad to 3
a hubby to 1
.........
hey! that's a lot!

How you'd get around in Heaven.

2011-05-11T20:24:00.001+08:00

This Heavenly joke came all the way from my school days:

Three men died and went to heaven. They met St. Peter at the gate.

Peter told them, " You're all gonna get cars up here for transport, but if you were bad you get a crappy car, if you were good you'd get a great car."

And so Peter asked the first guy, " John, did you cheat on your wife while you were alive?"
John said, " No. Never..."

Peter said, " Your'e lying, we know because it's recorded. So here's a 69 Volkswagon. It needs a lot of work."

The next guy Joe stepped forward and Peter asked him, " Did you cheat on your wife Joe?"

Joe replied, " Well yes, I did while we were in high school."

Peter replies, " We know cause it's recorded. Here's a 1974 Chevy Caprice. It needs a lot of work."

Finally old Mr. Jones came forward and Peter asked him the same question. So old Mr Jones replied, " No, as a matter of fact I never even cheated on her in high school."

Peter said, " We know cause it's recorded. So here's a top of the line Rolls Royce fully loaded. Congratulations!"

The next day John's car got stuck on the road so he kicked and cussed it. Then he saw Mr Jones in his Rolls Royce across the road, head banging on the driving wheel crying. So he went over and asked him, "Why are you crying, Mr Jones? I should be the one crying cause my crappy old car broke down. But you should be laughing all over Heaven."

Mr Jones wailed, "I just saw my wife. She was wheeling by on a skate-board!"

Ssssnake In The House!!!

2011-03-01T22:57:00.002+08:00

It's still a jungle out here I suppose. Our friendly house seems to be attracting all the wrong company. There used to be stray cats, musangs, monkeys, bees... Then there are also snakes.

This morning as soon as I got into the office, wifey called. She said there's one in the house. I clearly heard the tremble in her voice. I quickly locked the office and drove back home.

Probably due to the current hot and dry weather and the depleted patches of greenery around the neighborhood, it was heading for a cooler place to hide during the day. It just happened to find its way to my front door and slid into the house. It raised its head and hissed at wifey in between the hallway and dining room, right in front of our bedroom door.

That was when she called me on the phone. Then she waited until it tried to snake its way under the screen door into the bedroom. She then made a dash to the front porch, grabbed hold of a can of Mortein H2O and gave it a huge dose of the spray. It was stunned for a while, and because of the wet terrazzo it couldn't crawl away.

Then she grabbed a can of acidic floor cleaner from the kitchen and gave it another dousing. Fearing it may revive and give us the slip, she quickly went to the kitchen, filled a pot with water and heated it up.

By the time I arrived the critter was almost dead but still wriggling around. I whacked it a few times with a stick just to make sure. I noticed the tell-tale icon on the back of its head; a pair of spectacles. It was a baby Cobra. Small, but just like its parents, mean and menacing when confronted. So when wifey came out with the boiling water I turned the thing into a coiled sausage.

Certain intruders are definitely not welcomed.

By the way, this is not a picture of the one that came a visiting.
In my hurry to get home to save a damsel in distress I left my camera in the office.

Cold Sweat...

2010-12-16T23:18:00.002+08:00

Want to know what it feels like when your finger slipped (or is it the mind?) and you punched the wrong button which deleted the partition on the disk containing all your customer's important data?

Yeah... cold sweat... And with the customer breathing down our necks, checking every few minutes wanting to know when we can deliver the restored PC, it wasn't an easy job.

Jeff and I searched the internet for every data recovery software available, hoping to undo the damage. One software managed to scan and showed us the files we lost but it ended there.

1900hrs: I didn't have the energy to go on so I called it a day and went home. But Jeff wasn't the type to give up that easily. He went on working at it.

He just sent me a message at 2300hrs and said we can sleep well tonight. He did it!!! He undeleted the partition and recovered the precious data!!! I call that persistence!

Move over, Mr. Bond...

2010-10-13T21:34:00.001+08:00

The gadget guys in the secret service must be wringing their hands in frustration.

These gadgets below come in many forms and can be easily plugged in anywhere. Seems, there's nowhere to hide theses days...

Since it's inevitable (or we assume) do spare a mask (or a paper bag with eye-holes) in your bag, and be ready to use it when you enter supermarket or swimming pool changing rooms, toilets, etc... A photo of you in birthday clothes will be worthless if nobody can recognize you. I learned that from a story I heard:

Some folks were caught gallivanting in the nude by some photographers and everybody cover their privates with whatever they got. One guy simply covered his face with his hands. When asked why he did that, he simply said, "Who cares about looking at a naked body if they can't recognize that face?"

Oh. And don't be shy in sharing this MASSAGE.... hahahahaha....

Bees - Another Story From Our Mango Tree.

2010-09-26T11:56:00.003+08:00

She was sweeping the fallen leaves from under the mango tree outside the gate. I was sitting in the porch with a neighbor discussing the next Rukun Tentangga event. Suddenly she threw away her broom and was yelling and sweeping her face and arms and running into the porch.

Midget bees! Miniature in size but aggressive when their nest is disturbed.

I quickly rose and went to her aid. A few of them were still trying to attack her. I tried to wave them away. They wanted to attack me. I swept at them with my bare hands. Strangely they weren't keen to attack me. They backed off.

Obviously she had taken a swipe at what she thought was a bunch of dried leaves with the broom. That bunch of leaves turned out to be a bee-hive. I thought we were lucky she hadn't brought down the whole thing! And luckily those stings weren't venomous. They caused some pain and itchiness lasting a few days.

I decided I had to get rid of them. But not knowing how they'd react if I burn their nest, I decided to call the fire brigade. The guy asked me what's the problem. I told him.

They came in their big fire-truck and half a dozen guys. First guy said to burn the nest. Another asked me for a can of aerosol bug destroyer. I said I don't have any. He told me to go and buy one. I looked at him in disbelief. Anyway I managed to borrow one from a neighbor.

He sprayed at the nest liberally. Most of the bees flew away. Then he asked for some old newspapers. He lighted them and torched the nest. Then he asked for a pair of cutters and a plastic bag. Then he asked for a stool. He cut the nest and stuffed it into the plastic bag and handed everything back to me.

I asked him what should I do with the nest. He said, 'Throw it away'.

The next day the bees were back trying to rebuild their nest. I got myself a can of water-based insecticide and did the fire brigade thing on them myself.

Sometimes when they get in each others way, man and nature just can't co-exist without friction. Pity.

Perth In The Spring

2010-09-24T20:27:00.001+08:00

They said there's nothing interesting in Perth. I didn't think so. And I was right. I came, I saw and enjoyed most of it. Other people probably see Perth as something else. Like the guy at the immigration who greeted me with, 'Welcome to Perth! Enjoy the Casino!!' I laughed. I wasn't there for some luck and chance. Gambling isn't my cup-of-tea anyway.

I was there to take it easy. For a change of scenery and a feel of the cool crisp air of spring when flowers bloom and birds sing (and crows cawing in their Aussie accent)... and the call of the kookaburra in the old gum tree (nah... that's another old Aussie folk song I remember from ages ago) and the stirrings of sweet romance among our group of young friends thrown into the setting. And the ever-present seagulls that seem to be all over the city, not just around the harbor of Fremantle. All these blend in beautifully with the trip and is etched into my memory of Perth.

We stayed a few days to witness my niece's convocation at UWA.

We then traveled south in rented cars guided by GPS and stayed a couple of days in a farmhouse in Margaret River, an area famous for its winery, chocolates, honey and other farm products. We had ice-cream at Simmo's. We went to the Sugar-loaf Rocks and the Canal Rocks and stared at the in-coming surf and listened to the mighty roar of the waves from the Indian Ocean. We were fascinated by myriads of colorful flowers growing on hill slopes and among the rocks.

We also 'crawled' our way into one of the many caves in the Leeuwin Naturaliste Ridge region.

Different people see different things. And different people see things differently. We see mostly what we want to see.

I was up and about one cold morning roaming along the perimeter of the farm overlooking a huge meadow. An older traveling companion remarked that there's nothing here. He saw that there's nothing of value growing on the farm. No fruit trees, cattle, sheep nor crops. Couldn't fault him for that. He's a business-man.

He wasn't looking at the things I saw through my camera's lenses. A lovely scene of fresh, green serenity on a beautiful spring morning.

Dear children

2010-08-22T22:53:00.010+08:00

Dear children

We are at home

We are home

Always will be

Wherever that may be

We will always be

Home

To you

We will always be

Home

For you

Views From A Hill

2010-07-27T22:33:00.002+08:00

On top of Bukit Semarak:

On a clear day when we look south we can see my home island in the distance. Tikam Batu town is in the foreground.

And when we look north we can see Gunung Jerai, Sungai Petani town and the lush greenery of mangrove along the rivers...

And when we look closer, we can see wild flowers we seldom see unless we stop to look.

Don't play-play with this guy...

2010-07-26T21:58:00.002+08:00

Saw this mean looking thing hanging out by a foot path while hiking uphill...

I'll never play in this park...

2010-07-17T21:35:00.001+08:00

Look who's having a dip in my pool?

2010-05-25T10:51:00.002+08:00

The online ad went: 'The Water's Warm - And These Deals are Hot!'

But look who's having a dip in my pool?

Wife practices recycling like it's a religion. Even collects used water from the washing machine for mopping floors.

This morning we heard something splashing around in the bucket of used water out in the porch. But when we looked, we saw nothing. Not even a ripple on the surface.

Strange.

Whatever was in there had probably submerged to avoid detection... (unlike our French submarine... hahaha)

'Don't put your hand in there!' She warned me. She must think I'm used to putting my hand into some place where I couldn't even see what's in it. I'm not about to risk losing my hand nor any of my fingers for that matter.

Later, after we came back from our morning walk, I glanced again into the bucket and saw this 'handsome prince wannabe' enjoying a relaxing swim...

Shot by ear...

2010-05-20T21:44:00.001+08:00

Went hiking. And as usual with my digicam in my waist pouch. Then I saw this beauty flitting by. (They must know I have a camera with me. They love hanging around me!) So I reached for my pouch and pulled out my camera. Then lo! I found out I forgot to pack my reading glasses along! So, I shot this by ear. I mean, I listened to the 'bleep' when the focus was right. Auto focus. Golly! She turned out great! Just what I wanted.

Mother of Mothers

2010-05-09T08:00:00.001+08:00

A Mother's day dedication
(in loving memory of Mother-in-law who passed away 10 years ago)

Before the funeral services began every son-in-law was given a black umbrella. As the youngest son-in-law, I took my place among my brothers-in-law standing to one side, while the eleven children of the deceased knelt before the casket. Vegetarian food, fruits and floral offerings decked the table before it. The Buddhist priest and nuns chanted solemn prayers to the tinkling of bells.

The morning started slightly cool and breezy but as the funeral service progressed, dark clouds rolled in overhead. When the rains suddenly pattered down, each son-in-law stepped forward, umbrella in hand to try to shield those kneeling from the rain. We were joined by friends who had come prepared with umbrellas. It was only for a short while but it came like a test of devotion. She could now rest in peace knowing her children and grandchildren would be well taken care of.

She had shown us all by her example that devotion is what counts the most to carry a family through thick and thin, from one generation to the next.

* * * * *

She had lived her teenage years doing odd jobs around the neighborhood, like pounding rice from the husks in exchange for some of the rice. Their mother passed away while they were still too young to know. Their father went blind. Though she came 2nd, when the father passed on she took over the responsibility of fending for the family.

The two young brothers they had didn't survive their childhood through lack of proper care. It was understood they died after falling sick having encountered some evil spirits on an evening while bathing at a remote well near the jungle behind their house. Piped water was unheard of. They couldn't even afford to dig their own well.

The 3rd girl was given away to a rich family when she was eight years of age as a ‘little daughter-in-law.’ But she worked the household chores day and night like a maid. Such was the custom in those days. Whenever there was a chance for her to return home for a visit, there would always be a tearful parting again on the very same day. In their poverty they accepted all as their fate. In time she was officially to become their daughter-in-law. By then, the parents were gone. But if wealth were of any comfort, she could now afford to send food, money and other offerings for prayers during their anniversaries.

When they grew up, there came a suitor for the eldest girl. Her older sister had the audacity to turn him down. She didn’t like his looks. To avert the embarrassment of the suitor she accepted the proposal in her sister’s place. Thus while still a teenager of eighteen; she was given away in marriage. Her entire trousseau was a blouse, a sarong and a pair of shoes.

For her humility it seemed the Goddess of Mercy saw fit to smile upon her. In the little town where they settled, there were two brothers who shared her same family name. The elder ran a rubber trading shop while the younger owned a petrol station. They came to her like the reincarnations of the two brothers she had once lost. They adopted her as their sister and took it upon themselves to help her start a sundry shop business and also bought a few relongs of rubber holdings in her name.

In time, the family grew to eleven, of four boys and seven girls. They continued to prosper, and the sons grew up and took over the running of the shop and the rubber estate. Having done all her share of menial labor, no task was too lowly for her. She continued to work as hard as anyone else, in the shop as well as in the kitchen or out in the back-yard feeding some ducks and chickens, and even planted flowers and herbs.

She was soft-spoken and gentle to a fault and never used a harsh word on anyone. The end of each year would see her boarding buses in turns, in various directions, bearing gifts of eggs, chickens, fruits and other foodstuffs and clothes to her sisters who have by then married and raised families of their own. She took it upon herself to visit each and every one of them to keep their ties intact in accordance to her father's dying wish.

They owned a car. In those days this little 'one-horse town’ was where you could count the number of cars on the fingers of one hand. If the occasion coincided with their regular trips to buy goods in the next town or city, she would rather let neighbors hitch a ride in the car, while with the youngest daughter in tow to help her carry her things; she'd quietly board public buses whose attendants know her by name.

Year ends would also find her traveling to all the temples that housed the deities from whom she had occasion to ask for blessings, cures and protection for her family throughout the year, bearing offerings of food or cash for charity and prayers in thanks-giving for the blessings she had abundantly received.

Poor neighborhood kids would not go hungry as long as she knew about their conditions.

At times when their next-door neighbor found it hard to make ends meet, she would quietly passed bags of rice through a side door without her husband’s knowledge.

She would make sure that any visitor to the house would have enough to eat and have as comfortable a bed as her own children if they choose to stay. And much to the chagrin of the children, many an occasional visitor, related or otherwise, could stay as long as he/she needed.

* * * * *

From the very day that I had spoken for her daughter she had treated me like a son. And all would attest to the fact that she valued every son-in-law like she would her own flesh and blood. By then, she was of the age when her legs were not as strong and steady as they used to be, which was not helped by her failing eyesight, and I, when I could afford a car, was only too willing to drive her to wherever she wanted to go.

Because it was my wife being most available to attend to her needs and being her closest confidant that she chose to spend her last days in our home. We had hoped that she was trying to recover her health, but it seemed apparent she was already prepared to go. Somehow, I felt I could have done more for her in her final days, but alas, it was too late for misgivings. And in an intesive care unit of a private hospital quite a distance from home, she breathed her last.

It was but after the funeral, when we’d returned from the cemetery and the last of visitors and service people had left, that I sat down in a state of numbness in the hallway, when it finally came upon me like there was an immeasurable emptiness inside my chest that my inconsolable emotions gave vent to an undignified torrent of tears.

Stories from the workplace III

2010-05-08T15:00:00.002+08:00

After I quit the nightmare job in Jakarta in 1985, I returned to

Malaysia

. It was a bad year for job-hunting, but I had no other option. I was at the end of my rope.

By sheer good luck, a friend of my wife told me to contact her friend, a Managing Director of a plastics injection molding factory called Exzone. My job involved anything that came along; from product and process designing, trouble-shooting, to delivery and debt collection. The pay wasn't enough to cover our daily expenses, but I took it.

To augment my income I set up a classroom in my rented house and taught Art and English in the evenings and took on any other part time job that friends could come up with. Those were my new friends in SP town but they willingly helped me out when they heard my story.

One day, after I had been with Exzone for a year, I was told to report at Euston, an American owned contract manufacturing plant. (The owner resided in Hong Kong.) I had, on a few occasions met executives from Euston as we were one of their vendors. I had often wondered to myself whether I could get a chance to work in there. My boss had a deal with him to send me there for a month.

I went to meet the General Manager called Andy. He wanted me to make sketches of Euston, the people at work, the machinery, the facilities, etc. His intention was to create a brochure to promote the factory's facilities in the USA. He wanted something unique, artistic and low cost. He hired me for a month to do the job. I finished the sketches in about ten days and handed them to him. He said he'll get someone in the

to take care of the rest of the job. I don't know till today what happened to those sketches. I never saw any brochure either.

I just knew that I wouldn't be short of anything to do with the rest of the time. While looking around the factory, I met a supervisor who was wringing her hands in frustration. She was struggling to meet a deadline to deliver some painted toys but the Tampon-Printer broke down and she had no replacement–part available. The replacement part had to be ordered from Hong Kong. She asked me if I could think of something. I took a look at the machine and realized all she needed was a wiping blade. I asked her to find me a box-cutter blade. I replaced the broken blade with the cutter blade after leveling off both slanted ends on a bench grinder. It worked just fine and she completed the order without a hitch.

Then she asked if I could help her with another problem. She was short of some spray paint of one particular shade. To order it from Hong Kong would take at least 2 to 3 weeks to arrive. I told her to get me all the colors she had. I then mixed a few colors together until I got the right shade needed. This and other little problems helped make my days get by easier.

Euston's temporary canteen was in bad shape. The original canteen was turned into an office after a fire burned out the factory office and store earlier that year. Andy suggested that we built another canteen. He wanted it built like the attap huts he saw at the beach hotels in Penang. So we threw in whatever we got in terms of experience in building a house with nipah roof. One morning, Andy was trying his hand at tying the nipah leaves up on the roof and he yelled, "Ouch, Shit!"

I asked, "What's that?"

He said, "Oh, it's something soft and brownish and smelly..." I laughed. He said he poked on his thumb with the sharp end of the split rattan string.

He asked me what to do if a piece of split rattan string ran out. I said to join it with another length of string by tying it in a weaver's knot. That way we get the smallest possible knot. After that I kept hearing him swearing away at weaver's knots until we ran out of split rattan strings.

We did not finish even one-third of the roofing when we gave up and he called in a guy who could do it professionally. He used rafia strings and a big needle and finished the job two weeks later.

Before the end of that month, Andy asked the secretary to make out a check for me. I was told that the company's cash in the bank was in limited supply. There was also the guy who repaired the canteen waiting to be paid.

As soon as I got the check, I said to Andy, “I’m going to the bank.” He remarked that I seemed eager to get my money first before anyone else got it. I laughed and said I got a wife, a 3-year-old kid and a new born baby at home. I needed the money. Andy followed me to the bank. He helped me to get the check deposited into my account. It was the first time I used an ATM card. He then followed me to the house and I showed him the new baby, our second daughter.

On what was supposed to be my last day, Andy said to me. “How would you like to work for us permanently? We seem to get along pretty well”. I thought he was joking, especially about the 'getting along' part, but I said I'd love to. We discussed my salary and he said I’d get whatever Exzone was paying me. I said it would be an insult to my current boss. He raised the offer by another RM100. I took the job. I was to learn later that it was a colleague, who suggested to him about taking me on. But a few days later, before he could give me an official appointment, he resigned as GM. I was left without a post but he told me not to worry about my job status.

One day the Managing Director came over from Hong Kong. He told the secretary that as he was walking around the factory he noticed a "Chinese guy" who was working even after everybody else had gone home. The secretary told him who I was, then explained to him the precariousness of my position. The next day she gave me an appointment letter signed by the MD which I immediately accepted. That was August 1986. I was placed in charge of a lawn-sprinkler production line.

Three months later, I had the good fortune of accompanying a colleague who wanted to ask the MD for some extra benefits, and I raised the fact that my probation was up. He immediately promised that I’d be confirmed in my appointment. The next day I received a confirmation letter stating that my pay has been raised by another RM350. For the second time in my working life I was earning a four-figure salary.

Stories from the workplace II

2010-05-07T20:02:00.001+08:00

When I was at my first job I thought my boss was terrible. One day I saw a poster on the wall of a client's office. It said: "Be nice to your boss. The next one may be worse". The message became stuck in my mind.

The best boss I ever worked with was an Australian who declared, "My highest qualification is my driving license". He actually had an Able-Seaman's Certificate. He was a sailor before he became an automotive production engineer. He was the Engineering Manager who hired me. His method of solving problems reminded me of MacGyver. He once used chewing gum to stick parts on a viewing platform of a gyroscope. He has since retired to his farm in Australia where he built his own house from scratch. The last I heard of him he was building a boat.

I learned never to argue with a boss. I'd put in my opinion if I thought something wasn't right. But I always kept in mind that no matter how stupid he is, he's still the boss. But I had one boss with whom I had a huge tiff. One morning, I was under heavy pressure to solve a few problems, all of which came up at the same time. While I was handling the calls he announced and insisted that the report on our job responsibilities he wanted from us had to be handed to him as soon as possible. I lost my cool there and then. I raised my voice by several decibels wanting to know what's so important about the damned report when there were more important issues to settle. Our unwritten rule was that production problems were treated as top priority. Obviously, he wasn't aware of that. He insisted that if I couldn't accept his demand as a priority, I shouldn't be disappointed at the end of the year when the appraisals were given out.

I couldn't believe he'd stoop so low. Although I wouldn't give a damn about his appraisal, I ate humble pie and apologized for raising my voice, but the report he wanted still had to come later when all other priorities were settled.

Weeks later, another of my colleagues had a tiff with him. This guy didn't hesitate to give him a piece of his mind either. Within the next few minutes, he'd type out a resignation letter and threw it on his desk. I would have loved to do the same but that particular engineer had a Masters in Engineering from U.K. under the Prime Minister's Scholarship. He could get another job as soon as he walked out the door.

We could sense that the working atmosphere in our department had deteriorated beyond repair.

There were several problems which the Supply Dept and the supplier couldn't solve. A metal part cracked under our process. Our boss had to answer to the CEO on this as the customer was demanding delivery. He ordered me carry out several experiments which he proposed, to improve the results. All of his proposals didn't show any positive results. Without his consent I had done some experiments of my own. The parts didn't crack but looked dull and might not be acceptable to the customer. I proposed that we show the CEO the results of my experiment, but he hesitated. 'He who hesitates is lost', I thought to myself.

Then a funny thing happened. The CEO called for an emergency meeting which included all engineers. As expected the CEO was furious after seeing the results of the experiments. I looked at my boss. He looked like he was lost. He tried to argue that some of the results he showed could be used as the rejects were quite low. The CEO could not accept that. He looked around the room and asked if there was any other solution.

I had the results of my experiment together with samples in my pocket. I took them out and laid them on the table without a word. The CEO looked at the samples and said if we could produce parts like that without any cracks, then we should proceed. I said that we could introduce that change of procedure as a temporary measure until the supplier could give us improved material. Somehow, that temporary measure had since become permanent.

That boss of ours did not last out till the end of that year. I wasn't surprised at all and I'd forgotten whether my year-end appraisal turned out any worse than usual. Like I said, I wouldn't give a damn. He didn't get to do anybody's appraisal anyway.

A month later I had a phone call from a friend who was Finance Manager of the company that had just hired him. He asked me what kind of an ex-colleague I had, who quarreled with the security guard on his first day at work. I said that he was my ex-boss and he's not my problem anymore.

That finance manager friend of mine would eat people like that for breakfast if it comes to a showdown. He used to be company secretary and also worked as consultant to several organizations and had a reputation of being very aggressive in the board-room.

Stories from the Workplace I

2010-05-04T18:17:00.000+08:00

I read somewhere that working with idiots can kill you. I'm quite sure of that. I've had a fair share of working with some of them throughout my working life, enough to fill volumes. But I'm not going to dwell on too much of it. God knows, I was one big idiot myself when I first started out. I got a job as an artist cum dispatch person in a small 5-man advertising company. Luckily, there was no one around at that time for me to kill.

I didn't know how to use a telephone so I had to start to learn it the best way; by making mistakes. You can't blame me though. We didn't have a telephone at home until after I'd been working for a couple of years. The first time it rang when nobody else was in the office, I almost panicked. After its umpteenth ring, I managed enough courage to pick it up and put it against my ear. I wondered why the voice from the other end sounded so far away. And when I spoke, the other person screamed for me to speak up louder. Oops! I was supposed to speak into the mouth-piece which I was holding against my ear. Talk about not knowing which end's up!

Like all the 'macho' guys lounging around the office building, I wanted to look the same. I decided I wanted to try smoking while at work. The commercials at that time said it's "Sumber Inspirasi". I bought a small, 5-stick pack and lighted one while sitting at my desk doing some artwork. I took a few puffs. Just then the boss walked in through the side-door. Quickly, I snuffed out the cigarette and stuffed it in my drawer. I didn't know why I felt so guilty about smoking.

Everybody else did that at work those days. Besides, there was no air-conditioning. The boss himself did that occasionally. He looked around and sniffed the air and spoke a few words with me and the other artist who shared the same room with me. After he left, I opened my drawer to retrieve my cigarette. It was still smoldering and it burned a hole in my drawer. I decided then that smoking and working doesn't go together, for me at least. Anyway, I gave up on cigarettes. I just wanted to know why people are always dying for a smoke. I hated the smell.

I get so used to doing anything and everything at work. We took turns to sweep the office and throw out the rubbish each morning. On our way to the dumpster, we pass through the reception area of a newspaper office. A young officer I happened to have met while I was working at another job remarked, "Wah! Rubbish also you have to throw ah?"

I said, "This is work, right?"

As soon as he was out of earshot, an older guy said, "Some people don't understand the Dignity of Labour". I was reminded of that episode while reading the following passage by the world famous IT magnate from India, Mr. Narayana Murthy:

"Dignity of labor: Whereas this is an integral part of Western value system, in India, we revere only supposedly intellectual work. For instance, I have seen many engineers, fresh from college, who only want to do cutting-edge work and not work that is of relevance to business and the country. For anything to be run successfully, everyone - from the CEO to the person who serves tea - must discharge his or her duties in a responsible manner. We, therefore, need a mindset that reveres everyone who puts in honest work, no matter what it is."

From an industrial leader, that is a good lesson.

One day, the boss gave me a girl's name and an address. He wanted to hire a secretary. He told me to bring her in for an interview. I found the place, told her where I came from and the purpose of my visit. A short while later she came out in a mini-dress. That was the standard dress those days. There was no law that said you had to wear a crash helmet to ride on a motorbike either. She just got on behind me on my bike and off we went.

I thought it strange she could just do that without hesitation, like it was the most natural thing to do. I mean, riding off on a motorbike with a total stranger! Oh, she was pretty alright. A round face, large "Bambi" eyes and cute little mouth with full lips, and a voice so sexy, M&Ms wouldn't melt in her mouth. My boss hired her and she started work immediately. I found out later, her boyfriend was one of my ex-schoolmates. (Awwww....)

We had an accounts officer working with us. He was 2 years my senior, worldly wise guy with a pleasant personality and was a pretty smooth talker. He got us to guess what color underwear the secretary was wearing each day. She was mostly sitting behind a well covered desk in front of the boss' office. I wondered how he could guess. I hadn't taken any notice until the day the boss was out and she came into our office to chat with us. She forgot to straighten her dress properly. She must have got so used to it she wasn't conscious of her exposure until the accounts guy announced, "Today it's red color". She immediately caught on to what it meant and screamed at him. We laughed. She made sure she came to work with longer dresses after that.

Some years after I left the company I learned that she'd married the boss. Things don't usually work out the way you expected.

Getting to the Truth

2010-05-01T20:23:00.000+08:00

In the west, getting to the truth...

In this country, just follow this thread...

The Promise

2010-04-24T21:39:00.000+08:00

There was a phone ringing in the distance. It sounded like it was from a neighbor's house. It kept ringing but nobody picked it up. The sound came nearer after awhile. She stirred from her afternoon nap in the reclining rattan chair. Then she realized it was her own phone in the living room that was ringing. She got up quickly to pick it up. She tried to say 'hello', but her lips refused to part. Quickly she wetted her lips and said 'hello' again. It was a voice of a little girl on the other end. She was crying. She sounded desperate.

'Auntie, please come to the hospital. My mother is very sick. She cannot talk. They said they have to operate…' The voice trailed off and she only heard her uncontrollable sobbing.

She recognized the voice. The girl and her elder brother were siblings she used to baby-sit every now and then when their mother had to go to the hospital for her regular checks. The girl was then about 3 years of age and her brother was 5. Her mother's condition had been getting worse recently, but she single-handedly tried to raise the kids. The husband had been going after another woman who had now openly become his mistress. Too lazy to earn his own money, he preyed on women to fund his existence. 'What a parasite! She must have been blind to have married him. But what's done can't be undone. Poor woman. There wasn't even a relative that she knows of.'

When she got to her in the 3rd class ward, the woman was barely breathing. She wondered why she wasn't put on life support. She spoke to the doctor who was about to send her into the Operation Room. She pleaded with him to put her on oxygen because it seemed to her she wasn't going to last very long. He agreed to do it.

She went back to stay with her beside her bed. The woman grabbed both of her hands and said hoarsely, 'Please promise you will take care of my 2 children. I have no one else to depend on.' Her voice was almost a whisper. Her final effort to get an answer from her almost exhausted her.

Even as she tumbled the question over in her mind, she said yes. It was going to be a heavy burden on her. But how could she ever refuse a friend who's most probably making a last request of her life? She had no time to weigh the consequences of her reply. She said yes even though she was only 26 and had 2 small children of her own to raise while both she and her husband were struggling to make ends meet.

She said to the nurse, 'Please, the doctor said to put her on oxygen. She's very weak.' She'd noticed the distance to the O.R. was quite far and she was having difficulty breathing. She was afraid the woman might not make it.

The nurse said, 'Don't worry. This is our job. We know what we're doing.' She spoke as if the visitor was interfering.

They lifted her from the bed and wheeled her away on a stretcher. But a moment later she saw the doctor himself personally carrying the limp woman and rushing back into the Intensive Care Unit followed by the nurse and other attendants. They tried to revive her.

But she was gone. She held the girl close to her and they cried.

Just to convince herself she did the right thing, she called her mother and told her what she had put myself into. She said, 'How could you make such a promise? You think you can handle such a burden?'

'Mother,' she said defensively, 'what do you expect me to say to a dying friend's last request? She had no one. No family. I'm her only hope. I couldn't just say no.'

Even if she had said no, she would still end up with these children anyway. They had always looked to her for help had no other relatives that they could depend on. At least the mother died knowing her children will be taken care of.

Somehow, she found the will to do as she promised. She partitioned an extra room in her wooden house and raised the kids like they were her own.

They are now both grown up and married. The boy got involved with a Buddhist Charity Organisation and went to Indonesia to help the tsunami victims rebuild their lives. He and his wife are both still there. They are childless.

The girl met a young man who did not pass her approval but she stubbornly stuck with him. He inherited a fortune from his parents but he soon spent all the money. It seemed like she was destined to live her life like her mother did. The husband took no responsibility for the family. The brother sends her RM1000 every month to help put her children through school.

They're on their own now. She had kept her promise.

--------------------------------
This is a true story.

Why does a chicken learn karate?

2010-04-22T18:47:00.002+08:00

He went to work part time in a shoe store. There was this guy who was bigger in size working in the store with him together with a few others. He didn't take too much notice of him at first, as he didn't quite like the way the guy swaggered, talked a little too much and too loudly. So he kept a tolerable distance from him. He kept to his work and twice a week in the evenings he would routinely attend karate class.

His dad's advice had been straight-forward: Work hard and stay out of trouble.

But life has a way of spitting in your face just to test your patience. He knew that bragging about anything just wasn't profitable but like most teenagers he loved to discuss what he did in his spare time with his colleagues. Word got around. Big guy with the big mouth heard of his regular pastime.

"So I hear you're the chop-chop kid, huh? Wow… Let's see what you can do with bricks. Chop-chop!".

Big guy came up with some discarded bricks and stacked up a few in the store's backyard where the guys sometimes hanged out during their breaks. He ignored him and went back into the store. Stay out of trouble.

Big guy followed him in and said, "Hey, what's the problem? Hands too soft or what? Sissy's shouldn't learn how to fight!"

He looked at big guy and said quietly, "Look, I don't think I need to show you what I can do with my hands. No point chopping bricks. Doesn't prove anything."

But Big guy didn't want to give up just yet. Every now and then he would make some taunting remarks. He had this notion that with his size it was enough for him to push little guys around. And nobody's going to push back. Not even karate kids.

He kept reminding himself of his dad's words: Stay out of trouble, stay out of trouble, stay out of trouble ….

The pressure eventually began to build up. His nerves and senses got more and more tensed day by day. Every word, every gesture the big guy made rang louder and more obtrusive each time.

He was up in the store-room getting a pair of shoes for a customer. Big guy came up later and was rummaging around looking for something. And the remark came rather casually, as if two old friends were discussing the weather.

"Why does a chicken learn karate?"

There was an exchange of words, loud and harsh, back and forth. Big guy lunged at him with a fist. He dropped the shoes he had in his hands. By the time he had done with him, there were shoes and shelves all about the room like a cyclone tore through it. Big guy had a badly mauled up face and he couldn't see where he was going. His size didn't help him after all.

For a whole week he couldn't sleep peacefully. It was pretty easy to whack the daylights out of someone. The bigger the size the larger the target. But he worried about what the other guy would do next time they meet. He feared for his safety in case the guy were to hit back at him unawares. He wished he had been more patient. He'd learn that solving a problem with violence seemed to create more problems. He stopped going to work.

That was until the day the big guy showed up at his front door with his head still in bandages, a solemn smile on his face and offered his hand.

The tailgater

2010-04-21T20:37:00.001+08:00

Every time we hit the expressway our main aim is to move into the fast lane. It has become a habit. The slow lane isn't inviting at all because there are the 'too slow drivers' whose fastest is around the region of 80 kph. You make yourself tired more quickly weaving in and out between lanes. On top of that is the bumpy ride. Having slow-moving and heavy vehicles on that side all the time probably wears out the tarmac faster. There are always rough patches coming up barely a few months after each resurface. So we keep on the fast lane and make way for speedsters when they show up in the rear-view. Not quite a safe strategy, but then, out on the highway, when's it ever safe?

I was in the 65% seat as usual. That seat is dubbed 65% because the vulnerability in case of a crash is roughly in that region. My colleague was driving, and his usual speed was 110-130 kph. Morning traffic around this time on the expressway was normal and easy-going. But that morning our driver was a bit edgy. I soon noticed why. He was grumbling under his breath about some crazy guy behind us. A tailgater. He speeded up slightly. The tailgater followed suit and kept sticking to our behind. For us normal guys that's uncomfortable to say the least.

We braced ourselves for some quick change in our situation. Soon enough, we noticed about a kilometer further down the road there appeared to be something not quite ordinary had just happened. Our driver reduced his speed slightly but was on the lookout for a gap in the next lane. He was an occasional tailgater himself, but he knew the hazards pretty well. As soon as he got one gap that gave him enough clearance he cut in to it.

The tailgater zoomed pass us. He found himself staring at a couple of glaring red tail lights which were moving at less than half his speed. Surprised, he swerved right with his tires emitting squeals and smoke. His fender grazed the center guard rails and bounced back into the lane and 'swayed his dancing hips' a few times. Somehow he managed to avoid major damage. We could have given him a standing ovation, only we couldn't stand up. We just clapped our hands as we cruised past him. It was too dark for him to see our brief jubilation anyway.

By this time, in front of us was the site of an overturned truck with it's load of fruits and vegetables spilled all over the tarmac leaving only a small gap for us to pass through.

See ya Mr. Tailgater. We may never meet again, but then there are your relatives who behave just like you out there somewhere. They may not be as lucky. That goes for us too, but we hope they give us a sign so we can avoid them. We're not too eager to compete with them anyway. We're allergic to sudden stops.

A Change Of Mind

2010-04-18T15:45:00.001+08:00

The boy couldn't swim. So he rented an inflated tube and used it as a float. He leaned back on the float and paddled with his hands and feet. He floated around by the beach, not daring to venture too far out. He enjoyed the rise and fall of the waves, the cool sea breeze and the warm sun. He could hear the laughter and screams of pleasure of other kids along the beach and the splashing of bathers around him. He listened to the occasional calls of seagulls. It was very relaxing. It was like sleeping in a cradle. He almost fell asleep.

His floating tube was suddenly yanked from under him and he found himself in the water. He yelled, but he heard no sound from his own mouth. Water rushed into his throat and his nose. His feet couldn't find the friendly sand at the bottom. He opened his eyes even though they were stung by the sea water. He struggled and reached out with his hands towards a pair of legs he saw in the water in front of him. The waves tossed him about and the legs kept trying to move away. He managed to grab hold of one of the legs. He didn't know who they belonged to. He didn't care. He had to get out of the water. He had to breathe. His ears were ringing, his lungs were bursting and his heart pounding against his chest.

Somehow, he did not die. Someone had grabbed him by his hair and pulled him to shore. When he came to, he kept throwing up salty water. It was a crowded beach and no one had paid much attention. They just watched quietly and went away to whatever they were doing, more immersed in looking after their own pleasure. When he got home later, nobody asked him what happened because nobody knew about the incident.

It has been forty years since then. The man was having an idle chat with one of his older neighbors at his local haunt. He didn't know why, but something the other man said prompted him to talk about the past and he mentioned to his neighbor that he once almost drowned when he was a kid. He recounted all the little details that he remembered. He then said that even if he found the guy who had saved him, he would not thank him for it. He should have let him drown and spare him a life of misery and suffering.

The older man sat and listened quietly while he complained. When he'd finished telling his story, the older man nodded knowingly and said he knew what happened. He was the one who had rushed into the water and pulled him out. He was a life-guard. He saw how it happened. He knew who the other kid was who pulled the float from under him and caused him to fall in the water. The other kid was a big sized half-wit who didn't understand rules. He was watching him and he thought maybe this kid could do something nasty. And as if on cue, he did just that. He was in time to save him because he was running and diving into the water even before the kid went down.

The older man also added that on that same day, at that same moment, somewhere on that beach another boy drowned and nobody saw what happened.

The Angel of Death had a change of mind at the last moment.

The Bone-setter

2010-04-16T20:09:00.000+08:00

Kim looked on with great sadness as her father lay on the bed immobilized by straps, tubes and needles all over his body. The regular beep of the heart monitor comfortingly reminded her he was still alive. The accident was almost fatal. His right thigh-bone was split diagonally from the knee to his hip and his left shoulder bone and upper arm was fractured in a few places. There was a crack in the back of his skull. Miraculously he survived.

The first time Kim's elder sister saw her father's condition she fainted and collapsed right in the door way. After she recovered she stayed around in the ward to help look after him. For someone who'd lived most of her life in a village, moving around in an ICU ward was like living in an alien territory. Once, she clumsily stepped on something while moving around the room and the heart monitor which normally went beep.. beep.. beep.. suddenly went beeeeeeeeeeeee....... All at once nurses and doctors were swarming all over the ward in panic and yelling questions.

After he was discharged from hospital Kim's father was confined to the wheel-chair. Before they sent him home, they measured his right leg and found it was shortened by two inches. He tried to walk but it was more like a crouching and standing routine without much forward progress. And it was painful. And he couldn't lift his left arm.

One day they received a phone call from someone who claimed he was an old friend of Kim's father. They'd grown up together in the village near the jungle. During the Japanese occupation he joined the resistance movement. At the end of the war they wouldn't allow him to leave so he remained in the jungles to fight the British and later, the Malayan armed forces. The Emergency was long over but he still lived in the shadows. He learned of Kim's father's condition. He recognized him from a photograph in a newspaper article about the accident. He wanted to help an old friend. They made arrangements to pick him up from a bus station in a town 50 miles in the north.

He came. The two friends had an awkward reunion. They didn't have the chance to talk of old times. The job at hand was urgent. He made measurements of his friend's wounded leg, hip, shoulder and arm. Before they dropped him off at the local bus station, he left instructions for them to buy a free-range chicken, several large bottles of Wu-jia-pi wine and a list of herbs. The chicken must be male, perfectly healthy and exactly one kati in weight, not one tahil more, not one tahil less. They had to enquire at a few kampongs nearby before they found a chicken of that exact weight. The bill for all the items came to a few ringgits short of one thousand. Then they waited for the friend to call. This time, he asked to be picked up from a bus station in a different town.

He'd come prepared with pieces of bamboo, cut to size to fit perfectly his friend's body and limbs. After he'd checked and verified every item in the list, he was ready. He asked Kim to prepare the kitchen and get him a knife and a good sized wok. Then he told Kim to leave. She must not look. But she was curious. She peeped through a gap in the partition between the adjacent room and the kitchen.

He grabbed hold of the chicken, chanted some verses for a while and left it standing on the table. Curiously, the chicken did not move or try to run away. It stood on the spot quietly while he sharpened a knife and started a fire in the stove. Then he declared to no one in particular, This has to be done right. If I fail to do this right, I'll have to abandon this quest to heal my friend.

He raised the knife and sliced the chicken into two halves from the head to its feet while it remained standing, spilling its guts, blood and feathers on the table. He raised the knife again. This time the chicken was quartered, one piece in each direction of north, south, east and west. He gathered the pieces and threw them, guts, blood, feathers and all into the wok which he'd heated up on the stove. He poured in the wine and threw in the herbs. He stirred and stirred and stirred until after many hours he was left with a paste-like concoction. This he scooped from the wok and laid out on some old newspapers to let it cool.

He tore up strips of old clothes and tied Kim's father by his good arm, his good leg and his body to his iron bed. The whole family was asked to stand by to hold him from struggling and be prepared to listen to a lot of cursing and screaming from the patient for the pain would be unbearable. He then applied the concoction to the pieces of bamboo and tied them on to the wounded parts of the patient's body with strips of cloth.

Kim's father had very little education and most of his vocabulary consisted of the best of words never found in dictionaries. That night, for hours on end, the whole family had to put up with a whole string of expletives. He spat, he hissed, he cried and laughed, and he cursed everyone while the pain racked his whole body. But they kept silent and determinedly took turns to hold him down, wiped away his sweat, saliva and tears, while the man of the jungles told of how he once suffered a gunshot which broke his arm and had to heal himself with the same method with the help of his comrades.

At dawn, they found him sleeping soundly. The man removed the bamboo casts and threw them away. Again, they sent him off and he asked to be dropped off at a different location. They never heard from him again.

On their next visit to the hospital, Kim's father walked into the doctor's office with a slight limp. They measured his leg and found it shorter than the good leg by a mere half inch. The doctor pulled Kim aside and asked her endless questions. But Kim would never tell him the truth. She promised the man that it would remain a secret. She went home to look for the recipe but she couldn't find it.

An Affair with Golf

2010-04-15T11:39:00.000+08:00

I love golf balls. I don’t play golf though. Did a number of tee-off shots while I was in Genting’s Awana club some years ago just because I got challenged by our CEO. I’m kind of suspicious he doesn’t take kindly to people who don’t play golf. Anyway my only relationship with golf is that I keep a golf club by my bedside. One that a neighbor wanted to throw away. That is for adjusting the air conditioner flaps manually. If you think that’s for security, my opinion is that it wouldn’t serve any real purpose if there’s an intruder in the house. I believe the better answer would be to make as much noise as possible, like triggering the car alarm for example, to scare him away rather than confront him. But it's still better to keep something handy just in case.

My only other involvement with golf is I’m in the habit of picking up stray golf balls in, of all places, football fields. I think there are some budget conscious wannabe golfers who find the tee-off practice ranges at the clubs are charging too much for their pockets. So they do their stuff at housing estate football fields. I think they pose a danger to kids and other residents, but so far I haven’t heard of any complain yet. The drawback is that they lose their balls often. I must have picked up at least 4 of these around the fields in our four adjoining housing estates.

The 5th one cannot be counted because the guy was still practicing at one corner of the field.
That was one early morning when we were passing through the field. I said to wife, 'Someone just lost another golf ball'. I picked it up and slipped it into my pocket. Someone said, 'Aah!' Then I saw him. He was standing near a clump of trees in a far corner of the field with a club on his shoulder. Embarrassed, I said, 'Sorry. I thought it’s someone’s lost ball.' I placed it back on the ground. He said, 'It’s ok, you can have it.' Generous guy, I thought. I said, 'No, thanks.'

I think nobody’s doing tee-off practices on football fields after that.

Now, the thing I noticed about golf balls is that they’re made to near perfect symmetry. You can place one on a flat surface and the tiny flat area on top of the ball would be exactly central and directly opposite the tiny flat area on the bottom. That’s how I could clamp one on a bench drill and make a hole right through the center of the ball. 4 balls drilled this way are enough for me to replace the 4 pesky casters on my wife’s clothes drying rack. The original rubber casters came with fine American inch-thread fittings for which I couldn’t find replacements anywhere after running through every hardware shop and supermarket in town. Almost had to throw away the whole rack just for want of some spare tires.

So, it’s thanks to budget conscious golf players.

Some old place... some old story.

2010-04-13T22:48:00.001+08:00

Every time you mention a place someone comes up with a story behind it. A colleague asked about my kids. I said the youngest is in National Service camp.

Where? She asked.

Sik. A jungle clearing on the edge of a kampung. A place called Kem Rimba Taqwa. I said.

Oh... That place is not very clean. She said. It's an ex-army camp.

Yeah, you're right. They haven't started the clean up job yet. The facilities aren't quite up to expectations. You know, maintenance isn't one of our strong points.

No, I don't mean that. I mean, that place is spooky.

How do you know?

My father-in-law was a staff sargeant stationed there many years ago. One night the captain was reading in his room by candle-light. Suddenly, he noticed that the candle was moving slowly from one end of his desk to another. He ignored it. The candle moved again slowly back to its original place. The third time it moved, he decided he's had enough. He drew his pistol and cocked it.

"Do that again and I'll shoot," he warned. The candle stopped moving. He finished his reading and went to bed.

Next morning, on his way to breakfast, the captain fell down a flight of stairs.
On his hospital bed he vehemently declared that someone pushed him.

Well, it's been many years since then and many national service trainings have been carried out in that camp. Any old ghost would have shied away from that place. I don't think they feel comfortable staying around humans either. But it would be wise not to challenge them.

How to get rid of village bums

2010-04-08T21:02:00.001+08:00

A certain rich man in a village lost a chicken. Just a chicken out of his backyard coop full of chickens, but he went ballistic and had to blame someone for it. So who should happen by but a village bum, a young man who had nothing better to do but spend his days hanging around the village shrine, fishing by the river or playing with the kids.

The bum argued and yelled and said he didn't even know there were chickens around the place! A crowd gathered round.

The rich guy was adamant he got the right man. "Show us the proof then," said the villagers.

The wealthy one couldn't get any proof, but he refused to let the young man go.

Then the young man had an idea. He suggested they go to the village shrine and ask the Tuapehkong. He thought the Tuapehkong would favor him because he was always there taking care of the place. The rich guy agreed on one condition. If the young man was found guilty he will be banished from the village. The bum said confidently, "OK, let's go find out the truth."

Tuapehkong decided in favor of the rich guy and the poor bum was thrown out of the village. He had nowhere to go, so he hiked to the next county.

The folks in the next county were fighting a war with several of their neighbors. The young man was immediately drafted into the army. They trained him. To his own surprise he found he could do lots of things he never knew he could. He learned fast and he fought well with different weapons. He was always suggesting strategies to his captain and they kept winning battles against their neighboring county. And they kept promoting him until he became a general. Then they won the war.

Years went by and the emperor heard about the young general of the county. He summoned the young man and made him a general of the imperial army. He won campaign after campaign, until the whole country was united under one emperor. The wars ended and the emperor made him a governor of his own county. It was good thing. The guy had a desire to visit his home village again.

The first thing he saw upon entering the village gates was the little shrine and the Tuapehkong staring at him. He stared back. He ordered his men to tear the shrine down and throw everything into a vacant lot nearby. That night he had a dream.

"I want you to build a house for me right in the vacant lot where I am now." said Tuapehkong.

"Who are you to order me to do things?" asked the governor. "You didn't stop them from throwing me out of the village years ago, remember? They still think I stole that chicken."

"I did that on purpose. If I'd told the truth you'd still be a village bum today. But look at you now. A word from you and things will be done."

The governor bowed his head when he realized the truth of that. When he woke up the next day he ordered the temple to be built.

The rich man who lost the chicken protested. The vacant plot of land belonged to him. The governor said, "I shall now pass a law that says all land not occupied or planted with food crops shall belong to the government."

Soon the rich landowners began to lease out their lands or hired laborers to plant crops instead of leaving them to grow weeds or became jungles.

And that was how the poor of the village finally got some land to plant their own food.

Moral of the story: Some people have the potential to be great. They just need a boot in the butt to get them going.

A Cry In The Night

2010-03-20T15:28:00.001+08:00

She step off the factory bus. It was almost midnight after the second shift. She had to walk on a narrow path through the village to get to her home about two hundred meters away from the main road. The familiar path posed no problem for her as she had trudged though it all her twenty-five years living in this house with her family which included her mother-in-law.

But that night felt a little different. She couldn't say why but she was uneasy. There was a chill in the air but she felt a thin layer of sweat on her skin. A sudden gust of cold wind rushed by and she felt goose pimples all over. At the same moment she heard a lonely, mournful voice of a woman crying piteously. It was the cry of an inconsolable soul in unfathomable suffering. Her feeling of compassion for this pitiful being seemed greater than her fear and she stopped in her tracks and called out, "Whoever you are, what is it under the heavens that is causing you so much suffering? Tell me so I may help you. Otherwise, please don't scare me half to death!"

She had no idea what made her speak in such terms. Those words simply came out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying. But as soon as she uttered those words, her fear left her and the cold air became warm again.

She lingered a moment and listened but couldn't hear or feel anything out of the ordinary. She became aware again of the sounds of the night - the chirping of crickets, and croaking of frogs. There were the familiar shadows of trees and bushes and dark shapes of the houses of her neighbors in the dim light of the moonlit night.

She wiped a tear out of her eye, turned around and walked on home.

The Egrets

2010-03-14T11:45:00.004+08:00

Fortunately, there's still a huge track of mangrove trees beside the Petani river where hundreds of egrets make their nests. At dawn they'd fly off in groups to the padi-fields to forage for food and every evening they make their way home again. It's lovely just looking at them leaving the river at dawn or heading for home at dusk.

Sometimes we get to see them flying in their customary V-Formation. Some of them have probably lost their migratory instincts. They come home late and alone, looking lost, and just heading in the general direction of the river.

The Egrets

Against an evening sky with dashing strokes of brush

The great Artist paints with colored ink and wash

Gentle breezes warmly stroking hair and face

Greeting folks on evening walks keeping healthy pace

In the fading light of yellow and orange hue

To the mangroves where young ones feeding is due

From soggy rice fields to cozy nests for the night

Straggling egrets on their home bound flight

Each dawn a relentless struggle in search of food

Till dusk a continuous duty to feed their brood

People, environment and nature to blend we must

From birth, nourishment and growth till all turn to dust

7 deadly sins

2010-03-09T20:29:00.003+08:00

From the prettiest of princes and princesses down to the ugliest looking golums;
from the filthiest of the rich to the lowliest of paupers,
the 7 deadly sins has been there and actively treacherous
since man first walked the face of the earth.
It is up to each and his/her set of moral values and priorities to get through all that,
and if luck be with him/her, untainted if possible.

So, pick your priorities right and if you're up to gambling, place your bets.
Just don't wail about your luck if you're caught with your pants down.
Just say sorry to those who got caught in the path of your fall.
Just pick up the pieces and go lick your wounds,
for tomorrow they will find something else to fill those front pages...

Walking with a pebble in your shoe

2010-03-07T19:37:00.002+08:00

Know what it is like walking with a pebble in your shoe? To solve the problem all you need to do is get rid of the pebble. But you'll have to do it while the rest of the gang keeps marching on. If you stop to do it, you'll be left behind.

You know you can catch up if you hurry. But no, you're not up to chasing, panting and out of breath and get sneered at. No, it's actually only in your mind. I mean, the sneering part.

But if you don't get rid of that pebble it will start to hurt your foot. Soon you'll get sores, and if you still insist on walking on, your foot will start to swell. Eventually, you'll have to stop because the pain will get unbearable. By then, you may not be able to walk any further.

So it is the same thing with a necessary task which you feel is totally unpleasant. But whatever happens, the job has to be done. If you don't complete and get it over with, it will keep nagging at your conscience.

Mostly another factor is, other people's progress depend on your job input to complete. The project will not get done in time. Eventually your boss will be breathing down your neck. Come what may you'll still have to do it.

Usually once you get started it becomes easier and less unpleasant. By the time you complete the job you might even feel great.

This one also applies to straightening out someone in your team who gets out of line, stopping a machine to tighten a loosened nut, or replacing a worn-out tire.

Do it now.

For Want Of A Little Nail

2010-03-07T18:42:00.003+08:00

I once worked with a General Manager who came from The Bronx, NY, USA. It was a tough neighborhood where he grew up. He said many of his childhood friends were either dead or doing time in US gaols (jails).

He had a long list of experiences setting up factories in China and Taiwan. He could tell the thickness of a piece of paper down to a decimal of an inch just by looking at it. He married a Taiwan lady and eventually settled in Singapore. He was in his late 40s.

We were discussing an additional production line we had just set up and was ready for production. Going through all the equipments wasn't enough for him. He wanted to check the material inventory as well. He was right of course. We couldn't just take things for granted that they'll all be there like clockwork. Someone has to wind up the clock too.

We found that the screws were not in. Those were special screws. Stainless steel. They had to be flown in from the US.

And here's the story he told me that day.

A great general was about to go into a crucial battle. It was one that would decide whether they won or lost the war. He told his men to get ready. They checked all their weapons, supplies, food, equipment and transport. All seemed perfectly organised. All, except one little detail that their stable hand did not mention. A nail was missing from one horse-shoe on the general's horse. He thought little of it. Only one little horse-shoe nail. Beside's the general had several horses he could choose from. But that happened to be the general's best horse.

For crucial battles one always choose the best. It was to involve a lot of hard riding, covering many miles over rough terrain and difficult maneuvers.

In the thick of the battle the general noticed his horse limping. But it was too late. The horse went down taking the general with him.

They lost the battle and they lost the war.

Everyone loves a good joke, but..

2010-02-15T11:49:00.004+08:00

Everyone loves a good joke. I'm no exception. But considering the great amount of jokes our MPs and other big shots are generating out of their mouths these days, we don't even need to look for new ones to keep us amused. But then some like the submarine that don't dive jokes suddenly become a reason for us to be worried when the lame excuses why they don't come from a minister himself. Now, that's no joke.

Now we can see why in the darkest days when Poland was still struggling behind the iron curtain, the Polish used to joke a lot, especially about themselves, their living conditions, their daily struggles and their politicians. I was trying to find some of those gems I used to read, but they seem to evade me. Maybe now that the Polish are finally free of the oppression they simply let those jokes dissipate and fade away.

Can we hope for the same miracle to happen to us and our tragic/comic situation here in our bolehland?

Meanwhile, here's to share with you the results of my search for jokes to keep my spirits up while watching the real tragic-comedy going on...

Mother nature must be taking a nap...

2010-02-01T16:00:00.007+08:00

It seems my little Ciku Tree is coming along fine, but I just wonder why it's taking forever even to lift the teeny weeny seed shell off the ground.

After we've seen how fast bean sprouts get off and go, this is like watching a slug taking off after hearing the starter's gun. Yeah, not exactly reaching eagerly for the sky.

Mother Nature must be having a nap over this one.

----------------------------------------------------

Update: It's standing up this morning! Straightened itself. That's more like it!

It looks like some golfer stuck his club in here...

Too hot to handle

2010-01-30T21:21:00.005+08:00

I heard a certain farming community in Australia have annual chilli growing competitions. One of the contests was to determine who can come out with the hottest chilli in the state.

A Malaysian wife of an Australian friend heard about the competition and was curious enough to want to know how hot were the chillies they could cultivate. She was sceptical because she thought the teeny-weeny dynamite chilli padi from home was supposed to be the hottest thing this side of the globe and nothing can beat its kick.

The hubby was quietly amused but he managed to grab a handful of the best samples after the competition was over and gave them to the wife. "Here honey, try these and let's hear your verdict."

The wife, following her favorite rice cooking method from home decided to throw some of the chillis into the pot of rice she was cooking.

The result: She had to throw away the whole pot of rice. Nobody in the family could eat it. It was too hot.

Hey! Not over my head!

2010-01-27T12:19:00.006+08:00

Accidents won't be called 'accidents' if we can foresee them. But sometimes with a little care and common sense we can prevent accidents from happening.

If you're running a restaurant and hire waiters and waitresses to serve customers, I'm sure some of the things you train your workers to do or not to do should come as a matter of priority.

Yes, your waiters' and waitresses' job scope is to serve customers. But I would put certain safety procedures as a major requirement. Along with customer service skills, your people should be well trained to safeguard customers as well as themselves while performing their duties, whether or not your restaurant subscribe to the ISO 14000 certification. It could also prevent litigation or compensation costs.

The following episode could have been a potential disaster if my nephew had not been watching his baby. Never mind that an accident didn't happen. Rather, it was prevented from happening. We could all take that as a lesson learnt.

We were having dinner at a club restaurant and nephew requested for some hot water. The waiter came over with a jug and stood behind the baby who was sitting quietly on his baby chair. Someone handed him a glass. Noticing that the waiter was about to pour the hot water into the glass, right over the baby's head, nephew quickly shielded the baby's head with his hands at the same time giving the waiter an earful. That was the first time I saw my nephew lose his cool.

I'm not sure if he took the case to the captain or supervisor. Of course, the argument would have been, 'Well, nothing happened, right?' So, what's the complaint?' That's normal reaction. Nothing went wrong, so no case.

But I certainly hope that waiter learned an important lesson: Never transfer anything from one container to another over someone's head. And a baby is certainly someone important.

Eat for Charity - Yeah, that's right....

2010-01-26T16:00:00.003+08:00

Dine for Haiti

Damansara Village Steamboat
is organising a fund raising event for the victims of the devastating earthquake in
Haiti.

Event:
Dine for Haiti. Charity dinner event.

Date/time:

Friday, February 5, 2010. From 5.30pm to 11.30 pm

Venue:

Damansara Village Steamboat Restaurant
1067, Jalan Jenjarum, Kg. Sg. Kayu Ara, off Jalan SS23/10, 47400 Petaling Jaya.
Tel: 03 7803 1832.
GPS coordinates: Latitude: 3° 7'26.64"N Longitude: 101°36'46.71"E

* Come and dine on our fresh, live sea-food with our secret recipe herbal soup steamboat. All items on menu at normal prices.
* Spot the celebrities.
* Participate in Celebrity Item Auctions.
* Photograph with the celebrities.

ALL proceeds go to the Haiti earthquake victims.

This event will not be publicised in the mainstream media. It is NOT an event to generate publicity for Damansara Village Steamboat Restaurant. It is a simple opportunity to give something back to fellow human beings in need. Please help to spread the word about this event through your blogs, Facebook, Twitter, coffee morning groups....

CELEBRITY PARTICIPATION.

List of celebrities participating in the event (subject to change without notice:-

1: Yasmin Yusuff, radio deejay, host, former Ms. Malaysia/Universe
2. Hans Isaac, actor, producer
3. Amber Chia, super model, actor, brand ambassador
4. Daphne Iking, TV host, actor
5. Andrea Fonseka TV host, former Ms. Malaysia/Universe
6. Ben Ibrahim, TV host

Depressing things to read

2010-01-24T16:25:00.005+08:00

I was reading this crappy piece of opinion.

Then I read some historical, political and economic analysis.

After that I read what this ice-cream seller had to say.

All are depressing things to read about and some parts even confusing to say the least.

I think the way my friend the 'paper-wrapper' thinks, makes the most sense to me. Thanks, kawan. Whatever you've got under your tudung saji, you've made all these things so simple to digest.

The Replacement

2010-01-22T13:41:00.007+08:00

One of my ex-bosses had a little saying while we watched some workers cut down a tree to put up a building extension: "It takes 15 bloody long years to get a tree to its full height, but it takes only 15 minutes to cut it down!"

While our mango tree slowly withers away, I'm making preparations for its replacement. After all, it takes years for a tree to grow to its full potential, so I need to start early. But it seems my little replacement, the ciku seed, is taking its own sweet time to germinate. Looks like it's going to take some effort on my part to nurture it. The 'parents' come all the way from Kuala Selangor.

After several days seeing nothing emerging I got worried, until I noticed a little crack in one of the seeds that got 'floated' above the soil. Then a day later another of the seeds surfaced and 'anchored' itself into the soil.

Knowing we won't be around to water it, we took it along on our travels. (The story is: We're staying at brother-in-law's. While wife takes care of the cooking and cleaning in the house, I take over some of the son's errands, while he recuperates for a month in hospital of some internal ailment. On top of that, I have an assignment to keep track of).

I covered the little pots with a plastic netting and left them in a corner in their garden. That night, their dogs messed up the pots and chewed the netting to pieces. Fortunately, one of the seedlings survived. Then another seed broke through the surface of the soil in the 2nd pot.

Stick around... especially you tree lovers.

Let's live and learn

2010-01-21T20:41:00.002+08:00

nobody lives forever

but let's live and learn

while death is inevitable

live must go on

so take care of life

but live each day

like it's your last

each breath you take

is of great value

the joys of nature

the warmth of friends

for those who love you

do love in return

and keep learning as if

you'll live

forever

A dad by any other name

2010-01-20T22:35:00.004+08:00

A recent name-calling issue tickled some, embarrassed others and riled many who think they have it copyrighted. We are embarrassed because it was made a national issue. Then it became internationally known and our standing took a big knock.

A fellow blogger puts it in such a simple analogy here.

A dad by any other name
loves you just the same
unless you get it wrong in your head
and think you own his name instead

The home I left behind

2010-01-19T21:12:00.002+08:00

in my innocence

i imagined

a beautiful world outside

of bright lights that glitter

far into the night

a wonderous sight

filled with endless pleasure

food, drinks and leisure

until i saw the ugly shadows

lurking behind the smiles

on the faces

of those who hatch evil

in their hearts

scheming to take away

my hard-earned relief

from my toils in daily stress

with heaviness within

I yearned to return

to the home I left behind

only to find

it no longer existed

while I was away

her innocence was stolen

her young heart broken

her character defiled

her purity lost

that sweetness

gone sour

and I moved on

Why does the caterpillar cross the road?

2010-01-19T20:31:00.004+08:00

Struggling on the last lap uphill I saw this critter crawling across my path. He was probably about 6 inches long. Fascinated, I watched. Then I remembered my camera.

Meanwhile hanging out on the other side was this one. This reminds me of the dancing lions that come around the neighborhood during Chinese New Year. Perhaps they were having a rendezvous?

Missing - 14 year old girl from Penang

2010-01-14T22:14:00.003+08:00

Lee Xiang Yuee age 14 was missing from home since 20th Dec 2009.

She never called back and the last sms received was on 22nd Dec.
Her handphone no 016-4699023
Parents can be contacted at 012-4669399/0164407889 (Joanne) and 012-4787323 (Kian Soon)

Those Self-Help Books

2010-01-13T16:01:00.004+08:00

What do Zig Ziglar, US Anderson, Irene Kassorla, Maxwell Maltz, Dale Carnegie, and Napoleon Hill have in common? They are motivational experts. And they are very rich because we all subscribe to their philosophies and buy their books.

They were a huge influence in my life. They showed me how to survive by thinking positive thoughts and that all things are possible if I think so. Some of them taught me how to feel rich even without the huge filthy sums of money in my bank account, or floating around in the stock market. Most of all they taught me to get through with life, even when things looked so bad I felt like I was in a hole in the ground.

That wasn't all true though. I wanted to be rich by thinking like Napoleon. But, sheesh, it was the earlier Napoleon that kept creeping into my mind. You know, the guy who they said was "born apart", the one who allegedly said, "Able was I, I saw Elba…" I guess if I had kept at it I'd probably have ended up in St Helena. Only I was a few hundred years too late. Probably that saved me.

But about being in a hole in the ground, I did find myself, several times. Somehow those lessons helped. But I'd rather think the thing that got me out of those holes was the upbringing and survival instincts I inherited. The same thing that kept my grand-father in the boat from China until he landed here and then kept going until he cashed in of old age some time before the Japanese landed in Malaya. At least he was spared those crazy times. And it was the very same thing that kept my dad going, working the land to keep eight kids fed, clothed, and schooled.

Anyway, some of these guys taught me to work hard. So I did. I spent a whole part of my youth working my ass off, sometimes right through the night. OK that wasn't totally true either. I tried to avoid working late whenever possible. I noticed what happened to a cousin of mine who was constantly doing that. He succumbed to stomach cancer at the age of 40. I blamed that on his staying up late and going on without proper nutrition too often. He never smoked and never drank. What else could he blame it on? It wasn’t inherited.

On my part it wasn't voluntary. I hated having to stay up all night just because my boss had to show his boss that his team of people could work right through the night if necessary. I zombied along and grumbled all the way home to bed the next morning. That wasn't working smart. That was stupid. Any kind of accident could happen when you're tired. We only succeeded in letting him know that he could further exploit us, and we'd let him do so willingly. Since we didn't have much choice those days, I stuck with that boss until I couldn't take it anymore. Then I quitted and started from scratch.

Then I read Robert Ringer's "Winning through Intimidation".

This Ringer guy didn't mince his words. He advocated that if you work hard you only end up getting old. Not rich, just old. He gave me his 'Uncle George" theory. He said probably every one of us had a relative or at least know someone who worked hard all his life keeping his nose to the wheel and who only managed to get old. I said, Hey! Here's one book which dumped all my past lessons and turned them all into cow pie overnight. Overnight was how long I took to read that book. I then took the next few days to digest it. Luckily it didn't taste like cow pie.

I found out that the Ringer guy was teaching me how to intimidate my way to the top of the pile, which means going into money-grabbing ventures and getting away with the dough. I thought that if everybody were to follow that philosophy then there'd be a whole lot more of aggression in the world, because everybody would be trying to out-intimidate everyone else, because nobody would want to lose face, and least of all, money.

And what he did was, he blew all those success philosophies to smithereens. Like, working hard, for example. He managed to convince me that most of those who became rich were actually embarrassed about how they made it. So they settled for some standard formula; something that could sell, other than luck and chance. These philosophies don't sell.

Upon further reading, I decided that I could use those ideas effectively; I only had to learn how to recognize those trying to intimidate me into giving them something for nothing. That means; not working for free, not paying money for nothing or substandard things or service, and not giving in to demands for my time when it doesn't benefit me. It also tried to tell me not to negotiate myself into a corner. I said 'tried' because it didn't succeed. I didn't manage to use it to earn and receive any substantial income. I blame it on my honesty. It (honesty) was too deeply entrenched in my head by my upbringing in the missionary school where they indoctrinated me with honesty being the best policy. There you go. Just how easy in life it is to blame someone or something else.

Later, after all these I decided to follow Michael Korda's advice that after 40 I could either dance the night away or sleep right through it. I guess that advice didn't catch on. I couldn't find any of this advice printed anywhere in the websites that feature his works. I guess taking things easy seems too cozy for those under 65 nowadays. Besides, it doesn't sell either. Anything that people value nowadays is something they have to pay for. They get them for free; they think it’s too good to be true.

Now back to those self-help books. What did they really do for me? They helped me feel good in whatever I wanted to do. I get to pick and choose what I want to believe and follow. That was all the good they ever did for me. I did all the fumbling right through life and came out with all those scratches and scars. I still thought some of it was fun. And I'm still proud that I did it my way. That wasn't my favorite song either, I just happen to like it because Frank Sinatra did it quite well.

When they asked me if I'd like to Think and Grow Rich, I asked, "Do I have do that all day?" I'd like to think about lots of other things as well. Like love, like hobbies, doodling and taking photos, having fun and spending time with family and watching my kids grow up and graduate.

While some say, enough is not enough, I'm happy enough. It could be better....but that's life.

Off to a new assignment

2010-01-12T21:54:00.004+08:00

Life's full of uncertainties. That's for sure. You can make all your plans.... but sometimes it's better to to be flexible.

For the next few months my paint brushes and easel are going to miss me. And that guitar too.

I was just thrown an assignment to overhaul an old Foam Panel Fabrication machine and restore it into full working condition. Given a 3 month deadline. So, gotta roll up my sleeves, put on my steel capped toe boots and prepare for some greasy days ahead.

Oh, I don't actually have to do all that back-breaking work in that hot and dusty factory floor. I can just hang around in the office and find out how fast the boys can work scraping off all that hardened old stuff and what parts need replacing when it's all cleaned up and then test run that thing on D-day.

After that, well.... let's just cross the bridge only when we come to it.

Laughter still best medicine...

2010-01-11T21:35:00.002+08:00

Thanks Quinnie, for sending me this humorous piece. Had a real good laugh. Laughter still best medicine...

I love this Doctor

Q: Doctor, I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life. Is this true?
A: Heart only good for so many beats, and that it... Don't waste on exercise. Everything wear out eventually. Speed up heart not make live longer; that like say you can extend life of car by driving faster. Want live longer? Take nap.

Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?
A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does cow eat? Hay and corn. What are these? Vegetables. So, steak nothing more than efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef also good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And pork chop give 100% recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.

Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?
A: No, not at all. Wine made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine. That means they take water out of fruity bit; get even more goodness that way. Beer also made out of grain. Bottoms up!

Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?
A: If you have body and you have fat, ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, ratio is two to one, etc.

Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?
A: Cannot think of single one, sorry. My philosophy: No Pain...GOOD!

Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?
A: YOU NOT LISTEN!!! .... Foods fried in vegetable oil. How getting more vegetables bad for you?

Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?
A: Definitely not! When you exercise muscle, it get bigger. You should only do sit-ups if want bigger stomach.

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?
A: You crazy? HELLO ... Cocoa bean! Vegetable!!! Cocoa bean best feel-good food around!

Q: Is swimming good for your figure?
A: If swimming good for figure, explain whale.

Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?
A: Hey! 'Round' is shape!

Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.
AND.....
For those of you who watch what you eat, here's the final word on nutrition and health. It's a relief to know the truth after all those conflicting nutritional studies:

1. The Japanese eat very little fat
And suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat
And suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

3. The Chinese drink very little red wine
And suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

4 The Italians drink a lot of red wine
And suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

5. The Germans drink a lot of beers and eat lots of sausages and fats
And suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

CONCLUSION.....

Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills you.

Suspicious Dinner

2010-01-11T19:48:00.008+08:00

This one could be great for a page filler for Reader's Digest or the 'All in a day's work' column.

I was standing in for my relative's office clerk for a couple of days. Part of the routine was taking phone calls and collecting faxes from the office fax machine and reporting back to my relative if any urgent messages are received. It was a boring job if not for one message that came in today. It's probably one of those things that spell-checkers can't help but give you the 'benefit' of the doubt...

Don't get ulcers! Give them!

2010-01-09T22:00:00.001+08:00

Everyone reacts differently to pressure or stress at the workplace, public place, home or life at large. Wherever there are 'other people' there will be stress. Taking the workplace as a typical example, it was found that 75% of problems originates from people.

Some take it out on their colleagues, subordinates, friends or mates. Whether their outbursts are justified or not, they don't really care. They just have to chew up someone who happens to get in the way. All they want is to let off some of the steam.

Some blindly pick on the wrong victim and get bashed in return. That's how law enforcers and doctors get more work, lawyers get clients and judges get to sit and decide who's right or wrong and who should pay whom and how much. If they happen to be in Who's Who lists, reporters get some scoops to fill up their newspapers or magazines.

Others carry the whole thing on their own shoulders. They get blood pressure or ulcers. That gives doctors more business. Some take it home and lash out blindly at whoever get in their way, as in wives, siblings, parents, or children. Some who have no families simply go home and kick their dogs.

For those with none of the above, they go to the gym. Or they learn yoga.

Many young executives I heard, went and got involved in some pill-popping or head-shaking parties. I think that's more self-destructive than helpful. The less harmful thing to do is pour yourself a drink, swallow it and go to bed.

Seldom would anyone, especially in the retail business, take it out on the customer. That would be business hara-kiri. But some do. And they close shop and go do something else, or they wise up and learn which side to butter their bread on. There goes their poor dogs or cats or whatever. The poor critters will be the ones getting bootprints on their behinds.

Others with more knowledge or experience and have better control over their senses and coordination of their brain power, aim their pressure in the proper directions. Employees or colleagues who get caught on the wrong foot often get the best of these fireworks. That probably gave them the label of being dominant characters in management. You can't fault them for that because in the corporate world you either take charge or other more dominant characters will eat you for breakfast. Like the one who said, 'No, I don't get ulcers! I give them away!'

If you get two such characters within the same organization, then you should sit back and watch the fireworks. But such conditions usually don't last long. As they say, 'two tigers cannot stay on the same mountain'.

Meanwhile, they also say, if the heat gets too much for you, stay out of the kitchen. Go find yourself a quiet place and meditate. As in a monastery or temple. Sorry, all private caves are taken.

Smell a rat with this health check?

2010-01-08T10:00:00.000+08:00

How long does it take our health authorities to smell a rat? I mean, about a possible health scam. 4 years. That's how long. And counting.

Look at the front page report of an October 2008's theStar. And look at what my street-smart niece wrote in her blog HERE in the year 2005. And don't forget to read what her experienced uncles, friends and cousins, among them a couple of doctors had to say about it.

Meanwhile, some people have already made a pile out of putting a scare on health conscious young or middle-aged executives et al, with money to spend, and laughing all the way to the bank.

And until this day, we wonder if the ministry of health really exists...

Greed

2010-01-07T19:04:00.004+08:00

One of the seven deadly sins is giving in to greed.

Once you start taking what you don't earn from an honest day's work or a legitimate deal, you get deeper into it. And it's habit forming too.

Unfortunately there are many nowadays who have no qualms about doing it. Even those in public service. And in certain occupations there's hardly even a choice to stay clean. When you're in that kind of thing it's difficult to get out. There's no turning back. They won't let you because you could squeal and give them away. So they string you along with extra perks.

In the end it's like having sold yourself. You're a slave to graft. It becomes a way of life. You keep doing it and you become pretty slick. You start to believe you're pretty smart. You cover your tracks well.

But one day you make a slip. You think your so-called friends are covering your flanks for you. You overlook some small detail. But your friends think you're losing it. You're getting too fat for your own good. You let your guard down.

For you, they decide it's over. You've become an excess baggage. A liability. The public outcry is too loud. Citizens are outraged. The carpet's too small to cover your dirt. They volunteer you as the sacrificial lamb.

They let you walk into that trap...

Counting money that fly in the sky

2010-01-05T15:11:00.013+08:00

Nephew Eric was looking up in the sky and counting 500, 1000, 1500..... Curious, I asked where were those figures. There weren't any numbers in the sky as far as I could see.

'Oh, you see those swiftlets flying around?' I looked up where his finger indicated. 'Each of those birds can fetch in RM500 worth of nests every harvest,' he declared.

'Hmm...' I said. 'And how do you aim to get those nests?' I asked, triggering him to tell me more.

He went on to describe how to set up swiftlet breeding houses, the materials required, temperature and humidity control devices, and sound systems and speakers and what-nots to attract the birds to come in and build nests, short of sending them invitaion cards. He appeared to have acquired quite an expertise in the field. He'd personally built about half a dozen bird-homes by then, and getting requests to build more, though he admitted, it was by trial and error learning experience.

Those of you who have watched 'The Little Nyonya' TV series should have an inkling how good swiftlet nests are for their medicinal value. They were shown to have nursed the heroine and brought her back from the brink of death after she was left for dead in spite of a dramatic rescue from being drowned in a well by the hero.

As the heroine herself eventually testified, the real hero were the swiftlets which built their nests in that particular abandonned building into which she was thrown.

Back to bird nests, I asked him about those we see sitting on electrical wires running through town. He said those are not the swiftlets that build the kind of expensive medicinal nests we see in medical shops. Those weave nests out of grass. They're of a diferent species.

That ends lesson one on bird-nests of which I heard so much but knew very little about, except that they're too damned expensive for our taste.

Next time you're out in town and hear birds chirping and squeaking right into the middle of the night, don't be mistaken that you're hearing things. It's probably some bird-nest breeder didn't set the correct timing to his bird-calls. They should be shut down after sundown when all the swiftlets are already home and busy building nests with their vomit...

To think they were originally reserved for the emperors. Now everybody can try.

"Information, Please" - An Inspirational Story.

2010-01-04T10:44:00.004+08:00

There have been lots of email stories forwarded to me over the years since email was invented. One in particular told the heart-warming story of life in a small town in US in the early days of the telephone. It gave me a wonderful feeling each time I read it, and it still gives me that feeling now as I read it again...

------------------------------------------------------------

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well the polished old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person--her name was "Information, Please" and there was nothing she did not know. "Information, Please" could supply anybody's number and the correct time.

My first personal experience with this genie-in the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible but there didn't seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, Please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.

A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear, "Information."
"I hurt my finger," I wailed into the phone. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.
"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.
"Nobody's home but me." I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.
"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."
"Can you open your icebox?" she asked.
I said I could. "Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.

After that, I called "Information, Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary died. I called "Information, Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child, but I was inconsolable. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?" She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about half an hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information, Please." Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well, "Information."

I hadn't planned this but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?" There was a long pause. Then came the soft-spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now." I laughed. "So it's really still you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?" "I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me? I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls." I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister. "Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information."
I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?" she asked.
"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. "Sally has been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."
Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?" "Yes," I replied.
"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you."
The note said, "Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

MORAL OF THE STORY

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched today?

Lesson from the woods

2010-01-02T21:54:00.004+08:00

Take a lesson from the woods.

The teeny weenie little creeper said to the big strong tree, “Please sir, shed off some of your leaves and give me some sunshine.”

“No way, you little creep,” Said the big strong tree. “Go elsewhere and find your own sunshine, and don’t pester me. You have no place here.”

So the little creeper crept along the ground trying to find an open space to get a little bit of sunshine. But he couldn’t get very far. He got over-whelmed by all the other bushes and weeds. He finally crawled towards the big strong tree and began to climb upwards reaching for the sunlight. He kept going higher and higher. His brothers and sisters came along and they joined him in the upward journey. Soon, they were climbing all over the tree.

Eventually, without realizing it, the big strong tree began to loose his energy. His leaves shrank in size and branches started growing weaker. Slowly, over the years, instead of growing taller and bigger, he began drying up and some of his branches withered and fell off. Then when the last of his leaves fell away, he died and began rotting away consumed and defeated by the family of creepers.

End of story.

Now relate that to people. Doesn’t it sound familiar? There are people who are rich, powerful and strong and who won’t budge and inch no matter how hard you beg them. They take and take and keep taking, and leave only the bits and crumbs to the weak and lowly. But soon, the weak and lowly would grow and grow and multiply and they outnumber and overwhelm the big and strong ones and somehow, tactically defeat them.

Only the wise ones grow and help others to grow that they become stronger and their strength and the combined strength of others help sustain their great position. Thus they are assured of their lasting power. Those who have their power and don’t think that they owe anyone soon find themselves fighting for their own survival.

Like the big tree.

The Power Of Non-Violence

2010-01-02T19:41:00.002+08:00

This came in via email from a friend:

Dr. Arun Gandhi, grandson of Mahatma Gandhi and founder of the M.K. Gandhi Institute for Nonviolence, in his June 9 lecture at the University of Puerto Rico shared the following story:

I was 16 years old and living with my parents at the institute my grandfather had founded 18 miles outside of Durban , South Africa , in the middle of the sugar plantations. We were deep in the country and had no neighbors, so my two sisters and I would always look forward to going to town to visit friends or go to the movies.

One day, my father asked me to drive him to town for an all-day conference, and I jumped at the chance.. Since I was going to town, my mother gave me a list of groceries she needed and, since I had all day in town, my father asked me to take care of several pending chores, such as getting the car serviced. When I dropped my father off that morning, he said, "I will meet you here at 5:00 p.m., and we will go home together." After hurriedly completing my chores, I went straight to the nearest movie theater. I got so engrossed in a John Wayne double-feature that I forgot the time.

It was 5:30 before I remembered. By the time I ran to the garage and got the car and hurried to where my father was waiting for me, it was almost 6:00.

He anxiously asked me, "Why are you late?"

I was so ashamed of telling him I was watching a John Wayne western movie that I said, "The car wasn't ready, so I had to wait," not realizing that he had already called the garage.

When he caught me in the lie, he said: "There's something wrong in the way I brought you up that didn't give you the confidence to tell me the truth. In order to figure out where I went wrong with you, I'm going to walk home 18 miles and think about it."

So, dressed in his suit and dress shoes, he began to walk home in the dark on mostly unpaved, unlit roads. I couldn't leave him, so for five-and-a-half hours I drove behind him, watching my father go through this agony for a stupid lie that I uttered.

I decided then and there that I was never going to lie again. I often think about that episode and wonder, if he had punished me the way we punish our children, whether I would have learned a lesson at all. I don't think so. I would have suffered the punishment and gone on doing the same thing. But this single non-violent action was so powerful that it is still as if it happened yesterday.

That is the power of non-violence.

The Dough Doll Maker of Jonker Street

2010-01-01T10:00:00.001+08:00

Didn't get his name nor get a chance to talk to him. I only managed to grab-shoot this short video before moving on with the crowd. But what he was doing fascinated me. He makes dolls out of dough.

Our Mango Tree is Dying... Slowly.

2009-12-31T19:32:00.010+08:00

I once thought it's as invincible as the Highlanders. But the sad truth is, our mango tree is dying. The signs are obvious as some of its branches are drying up and falling off. Those dead branches are hollow inside. Which can mean that the whole tree is hollow inside too. I suspect the borers finally got to it.

After I got rid of another threat recently I really thought I saved my tree again. But apparently, it's not to be.

I remember getting rid of those pesky weaver ants which love to crawl all over me when I tried to pick those mangoes off the tree.

Lesson learnt. Never get rid of weaver ants completely from your mango tree. They actually protect your tree from borers and other pests.

A Pain In The Neck (part 13) - The Conclusion

2009-12-31T10:00:00.002+08:00

Diary entry: Oct 26, 2005
That was the 12th session of the chiropractic treatment yesterday. Mr. Chiro fumbled around my neck bones and declared it's very good. It did sound to me like he was the only optimistic person around. I was still in doubt whether those discs with their sides sticking out are going to go back into the gaps between the bones or not. He said it's not so much that they'd go back inside but given time, they'd shrink. He said I'll live. I thought so too but it's pain that I'm allergic to. But then on looking back, only last month I was moaning and groaning with pain each time I moved, coughed or tried to brush my teeth.

At lunch I used to have to hold a bag of ice to my neck with left hand and hold my spoon with right hand. Now, I can do all that with a lot less trouble. Without the ice-bag. Sometimes I even forget that I have a neck problem.

On a rough estimate, I'd say I'm now 75% pain free, which is a great improvement. I was told those who opted for surgery had to endure a couple of months living in a neck brace 24/7. And there are stories from some quarters, of friends having to undergo repeat operations to relief the pain of a faulty 1st operation and having to spend more money on top of the extra pain they had to endure.

I consider it a blessing in disguise I got into this condition at this time. Without treatment, my cervical section, being out of alignment would start to deteriorate and later osteophytes or bone spurs would form. Then more problems would emerge. But by then I would be in a more advanced age and any corrective chiropractic manipulation would probably not produce positive results. Worse, neurosurgeons would not be willing to commit me to surgery and put their reputation at risk.

On my next visit, which should be the last, Mr. Chiro should give me the x-ray he suggested. I'm eager to know for comparison, before and after, what shape I'm in.

I got to thinking too. In an automobile the main framework (chassis) has to be aligned and correctly balanced. Otherwise the vehicle would not run straight or it would vibrate and soon break down or the occupants would never be comfortable riding in it. So also is the framework in a tall building. Any misalignment would result in the building toppling over sooner or later. So in a human body, the alignment of the spine is most important to the posture and well-being of the person.

Enough of this boring stuff. All I want to say now is I owe a debt of gratitude to 2nd sis-in-law for recommending the chiropractor. To all the rest of you, thank you for your good wishes and your prayers and for paying attention to my updates. The rest is up to me how I take care of my neck and keep it in 'flexible working condition' by exercise and refraining from sticking it out too far or too fast. And not to drive too close to the guy in front. Otherwise if he stops suddenly I may be able to stop in time, but the whacker behind me may not be able to.

Definitely cannot afford another whiplash. This crate wasn't just born yesterday. The road to full recovery is still quite long. It may take another few months or half year. At least it's not too uncomfortable or painful.

P.S.
I didn't make that X-ray that he suggested. But in order to make sure I got completely free of the pain, I did continue chiropractic treatment up to the 20th session, during which Mr Chiro casually said, 'Well.... I wouldn't mind not seeing you after this...'
I took that as his way of telling me I'm healed. I'm free to go.

My neck no longer troubles me. Oh, I do get a normal pain in the neck once in a while. But it isn't the same kind of problem. An X-ray later showed my cervical bones aligned in a perfect "C" shape.

A Pain In The Neck (part 12) - Giraffes don't get whip-lash accidents

2009-12-30T10:00:00.001+08:00

A little history before anything else. I remember mentioning somewhere about Zheng He being our great-great (ad infinitum) grand-uncle. I was wrong. Xheng He was born Ma He in Yunnan. He was captured by the imperial army as a kid and was castrated and renamed Zheng He. Ended up working in the imperial palace and found himself getting in the favor of the emperor himself because he was smart and learned fast. The rest is history.

So, the fact is, we're not related to him after all. Doesn't make any difference anyhow, does it? I remember many years ago a girl asked me how I write name in Chinese. I told her. She blurted, 'Oh, so Zheng He was your great-great grandfather....' I said no. She looked at me puzzled. I said he was a eunuch. He couldn't have any descendants. She blushed and we both laughed.

Meanwhile, let me bore you some more about my neck.

Diary entry: Oct 20, 2005
I was wondering why the wire's still entangled in there and asked the chiropractor if we could take that out, like what we do with machines, straighten it, and put it back. He said not to worry, the neck's going back into shape. He said, after the 12th or 13th session, he will take an x-ray of my neck and use that as a living proof that chiropractic works.

I still have no answer from him why it's taking so long for the pain to go away. It's a nuisance. OK, at least it's progressed to 'nuisance' level. Every time I go into a meeting, I have to tell everyone after 15 minutes, 'sorry, I have to get up and walk around. I can't sit for too long.'

Next time, I'll try a different approach. I'll ask him when I can hang up my punching bag and vent my frustrations on it!

Two more sessions to make it twelve and we'll see where I stand. (He mentioned 13, right? Looks like more to go then....). I wonder how a giraffe would make out in my situation. But then, giraffes don't get whip-lash accidents.

The day whole world went to Melaka

2009-12-29T22:00:00.003+08:00

We took another trip to Melaka. The last time we went there the organizer didn't tell us most of the group were gamblers. We even dropped by at Genting's casino. (OK, fair enough, they told us Genting was part of the plan). Then they took us to an old well in some out of the way village in Melaka to get some blessed well water to bathe in so they could get lucky with numbers in the 4 digit game.

Then they took us to a zoo and imitation safari called A Formosa. That was the trick. The name. We thought it was the real thing. But there must be a dozen other places called A Formosa in Melaka.

No Joker Street, no old fort, no St Pauls' Hill and no museums. My kids didn't mind, but I hate zoos with all those sad-looking animals. I sort of felt cheated. Who ever plan a trip to Melaka without going up St Paul's hill and knock on some old bricks, stare at some marble gravestones or take a picture of the old Saint all dressed in white standing guard outside his 'open air' church?This time we're determined to get to the old fort & the joker's street. Oops! I really mean the famous quaint old Jonker Street (aka Jalan Hang Jebat) of historical Melaka's business district. OK that's my first impression. People on that street are all in businesses of one kind or another, whether it's food, souvenirs, clothes, antiques or artworks.

We picked on a less crowded day, or so we thought. And this time, my kids are all grown up. And at least one of them knows the way around and could drive us there.

But it seemed the whole world went to visit Melaka on the same day. All the streets were jammed. Cars, buses, people, whole families even, prowling all over Melaka town (or is it city?).

We looked on in horror as people queued along the streets for their lunch.

Somehow we managed to get inside a little Nyonya joint called Nancy's Kitchen. Phew!

Then we experienced a little bit of rain in the afternoon while walking all around St. Paul's Hill. We saw a fascinating sight. A couple of trishaws complete with passengers on board were racing each other through the rain.

Having enough of that crowd, we decided to go back to KL for dinner. But our 'driver' had the foresight to take us (through another 1/2 hour crawl) to a cake-shop to get us some snacks in case we get hungry on the way.

Sure enough, it was a long 1 hour crawl shifting between 1st and 2nd gears from Senawang to Nilai. The journey back to KL took 3 hours instead of 2.

D.I.Y. Self-Help Recovery to regain a healthy neck

2009-12-29T12:21:00.004+08:00

Diary entry: 12-10-2005
I discovered another way to help me recover faster. I learned from a medical website which suggested that to keep a healthy neck I should roll a towel into a sausage shape and rest my neck on it. That's supposed to keep my cervical section in the ideal curved shape.

I figure that since the chiropractor uses a traction device to bend it, I can help to maintain the shape by sleeping on something rolled up like a giant sausage under my neck for about 15-20 minutes a few times a day, with my head (the weight of a bowling ball) to bend it down. Amazingly, the pain which is now at nuisance rating went away during the time that slept on the 'sausage'.

Since I can now brush my teeth in the morning without feeling that knife twisting in my shoulder and a branding iron burning my arm, my spirits are up again as I see this as a sign that I'm on the road to recovery. I've also scheduled my sessions to twice a week like I planned. 4 more to go to make it 12. That count includes the initial session.

A Pain In The Neck (part 10) - What’s ice got to do with it?

2009-12-29T11:44:00.002+08:00

There has been some progress on my neck condition. So I decided to test if I had enough strength to swim...

Diary entry: Oct 9, 2005

OK, I admit I was wrong about alcohol. It makes my @#*% pain in the neck worse, contrary to what I thought. Well, I had to prove it to myself somehow. It didn’t numb the pain like I thought it would. So that rules out trying to use that solution to drown my pain. I’ll put my whiskey and beer stock into deep freeze for a while. There isn’t much left in there anyway.

Don’t look at me with those accusing eyes, OK? Everybody needs a little indulgence in some so-called ‘sin’. Besides I’m considered ‘clean’ as I don’t indulge in gambling, smoking, (or womanizing like some guys like to brag about, real or imagined). But these days I get a lot of additional advice from all sides on other prohibitions. Each one has his own level of conviction that whatever he recommends against is the gospel truth.

So, doctors out there, is there a medical explanation about the effect of iced-drinks on my condition? The guy at the local Chinese medicine shop said so, one of my self-proclaimed ‘well-informed’ colleagues said so, and one of our family members said so. But when pressed for a logical explanation, only one managed to give me the reason that iced-cold water irritates or constricts the nerves, which is bad.

All this I find hard to understand because the first thing the Chiropractor did after he first tried to wring my neck was shove a bag of ice-cold stuff under it, which probably saved my life because I thought I was dying then.

Then there are taboos about drinking iced-water which lots of folks swear is true. They say it’s bad for cough because it makes it worse. Some people even forbid their kids consuming anything iced, saying it makes them cough. So who’s missing out on this enjoyment in life? No iced-drinks, no ice-cream, no cold coke or Sarsi from the fridge to drown the heat on a steamy afternoon.

On the contrary, just the other day I was told by our staff nurse, if you get a bad sore throat, go get some ice-cream. Hold it there in your throat as long as you can before you swallow it. The cold will help cool down your throat as well as kill off some of the bacteria causing that bad throat. Don’t just believe me. Go find out, next time you get a sore throat.

For me, before a sore throat gets any worse, I’d get half a dozen leaves from my Hempedu Bumi (Chinese Hokkien: Si-Pan-Kee, Mandarin: Chuan Xin-Lian) plants, put them into a cup and pour boiling water in it. After it has cooled down a little I’d drink it. It stops the sore throat right in its tracks. I found it works for me most of the time. Of course, you’d have to be able to handle the bitterest drink you ever tasted in your life! Perhaps you’d rather get your ice-cream. I’m not sure how good it is. I haven’t tried it yet.

By the way, I went for the 7th session with the chiropractor on Friday. This time, he allowed me to say something for a change, or rather I spoke before he could say anything else after asking me how I was. I wanted to know if I was ready to go swimming. He said something equivalent to a suggestion that I wasn’t ready for that yet. But when I probed further, he said I could go but don’t do anything strenuous.

I went swimming. I had to test other measures that may help me recover faster. I found out that trying to swim was out of the question. My right arm wasn’t cooperating. I mean, my neck wasn’t helping it by giving me a sharp stab in the shoulder as soon as I paddled the water with my arm. I almost quit within the first few minutes, but since I already paid to be in the pool, I floated around and gently swam underwater for a few meters at a time, avoiding any sudden movements.

I also found out the chiro expected me to go for the sessions on alternate days until he advised otherwise, because when I asked him if I could schedule for twice a week he said I might like to give it a try. If it doesn’t work out right, then I should go back to alternate days of ‘torture’. He called it that this time, not me.

A Pain In The Neck (part 9) - When doubts creep in

2009-12-28T10:00:00.000+08:00

Continuing the saga of a pain in the neck and the long treatment therapy I took to avoid invasive surgery. It is normal for the mind to doubt the effectiveness of a treatment when it takes too long to take effect. So I need to record my experiences just to help remove such doubts from those who have to suffer the same fate.

Yesterday: 5-10-2005

I'm so tired, worn out by the constant nagging pain again. Pain rating: Fluctuating between tolerable and intolerable. I suppose it's because of the longer break in between treatments. The last treatment was last Thursday, a lapse of 6 days, which is probably why the pain sneaked back on me. To worsen the situation, the last 2 days were spent sitting in a training room, clicking the mouse, mostly with my right hand. We had to learn how to use new software for FMEA (Failure Modes and Effects Analysis). Well, I tried to remain seated as long as I could anyway which wasn't pleasant to say the least because it's not my height-adjustable chair and the conference table was too crammed for comfort.

And the chiropractor just went through his routines without even trying to listen to my complaints, as he seemed more intent on showing his personality rather than his professionalism. I'd rather face a sullen, stone-faced doctor who appears to know what he's doing than one brimming with optimism but keeps me guessing all the time. Besides he seemed to be rushing through the job as there were a few more patients waiting in other cubicles. I begin to doubt again his optimism about solving my problem and the effectiveness of this treatment. What's going on inside my neck? Maybe he knows. Or is he also guessing just like me?

My theory is that during the delay, the cervical bones slipped back a little, which explains the 'entangled wire' and the pain shooting down my arm. I'm theorizing this based on my own feelings and the wriggling I have to do every now and then to loosen the neck muscles, which provides some relief, although only for a few minutes at a time.

I will try to schedule my treatments from here on, to twice a week with a lapse of 3 to 4 days in between.

Today, 6-10-2005

I'm spending my time sitting at my work desk, made as comfortable as possible, with my neck in a brace. By now I'm an expert in explaining the Cervical Slipped Disc condition to every other work mate who happens by my cubicle and wonders aloud why this Darth Vader without the black helmet and visor is sitting here at my desk pretending to work.

And I'm still praying, this time, for a miracle to happen.

A Pain In The Neck (part 8) - A healing in progress

2009-12-27T10:00:00.002+08:00

continuing the case history of my neck problem in which I 'miraculously' avoided an invasive surgery and found an alternative solution...

The Chiropractic Progress – day 5

Sep 29, 2005
I feel confident enough to start to term it as 'Progress'. I dropped by at my friendly SP doctor's office last night (not just to say 'Hi', but with my youngest girl who has a little sore throat and fever). He told me the Neurosurgeon at the Specialist Hospital replied to his letter, stating that my condition was serious enough to justify surgery and advised that I should proceed with it. But looking at me smiling from ear to ear, while I explained why I opted for another opinion, my friendly doctor said he was glad I didn't proceed with surgery and was happy that I'm doing good progress with chiropractic treatment.

I went off Ponstan since yesterday just to see how far I could go. If I could give a grading to the pain level this morning before I went for the 5th session, I would grade it as a 'nuisance'. Much less pain but enough to give me that 'tangled-wire-in-the-neck' feeling.

Well, we got to define all the other levels first don't we? Otherwise we don't have a point of reference for comparison. That sounds more like technical jargon. I would rate level of pain the days before I started chiropractic treatment as "intolerable" when I couldn't brush my teeth in the morning without the knife twisting in the shoulder. After 2nd treatment, it was balancing somewhere between tolerable and intolerable. Then, after the 3rd treatment, I rated it as "tolerable".

Today I still did not use my right hand to work the mouse because it still tried to push the pain level from 'nuisance' back to 'tolerable'. There appeared to be some warm glow threatening to flare up again in my right shoulder after I went clickety-click on the mouse for a while.

Mr. Chiropractor addressed me as Mr. Siemens this time. He asked me what type of gadgets we're producing other than meters and instruments. While he fumbled around my backbone with his fingers, I told him our range of products include Engine Management Systems and anti-theft steering locks, etc. He remarked that my spine felt so much better now. I agreed with that.

While he was wringing my neck, he wanted to know whether installing a cruise control in the car as an after-market part would be better than having it factory installed. As soon as I got my wind back I said I don't use cruise-control so I don't know much about that. He said our cars don't often come with cruise-controls in them. Is it because they're afraid we'd fall asleep at the wheel?

I said our highways have too many toll gates in between, it is an unnecessary item. He went on about kampong folks driving their cars on cruise-control while they pour themselves a coffee and eat their nasi lemak. In spite of the discomfort, I was smiling at the floor through the little opening provided for a patient to breathe while lying faced down on the bench.

From here on the treatment sessions were getting routine as the traction pain has gotten so much less painful than before. But before I get congratulated, I still have 7 more sessions to go and the after treatment rating still remains at 'nuisance' level. I certainly hope I can go back to lifting heavy loads and workout on my punching bag to keep myself in shape.

Right now I better go back to work the mouse clicks with the right hand again. I always believe that whatever facilities you have, if you don't use it, you'll lose it.

A Pain In The Neck (part 7)

2009-12-26T10:00:00.001+08:00

...continuing the case history of my neck problem in which I 'miraculously' avoided an invasive surgery and found an alternative solution...

The Chiropractic Process – day 4

27-09-2005
I called the clerk at 10am because I noticed the name on my appointment card wasn't mine and so was the name on the receipt. I couldn't call on Sunday or Monday because those are their off days. She must have given my card to the guy whose card I'm holding because she couldn't find my card anywhere at the counter. Anyway I kept my appointment based on his card. 11.45 am to be exact. Time is precious. If you're late by more than 30 minutes, you're bypassed and have to reschedule.

The doctor's voice was loud enough to be heard in other cubicles, so while waiting for him I learned about what happened to other patients and their ailments, sometimes even where they go for their daily workouts or what they do for a living. And he'd give instructions in Hokkien to those who can't speak English, especially commands like "thay lo khee" (lie on your back), "pheeh lo khee" (on your front), "chey khi lai" (sit up), "chiah peng" (right side), "toh peng" (left side).

Chiro: Mr. Teh. How're feeling today? (He has to confirm I'm Mr. Teh. Can't afford to twist up the wrong patient!)
Me: Sometimes OK, sometimes not....err...
Chiro: Well, give it some time. It will get better......bla.. bla...bla...
Me: (Keeps mouth shut....thinks: "Doctor knows everything")

He'd ask me to lie on my back and while holding my ankles, asked me to turn left and then right. That, I suppose is to find out where the resistance is. If I felt pain in my neck while turning right, I tend to turn my whole body and response is transmitted to the legs. He'd keep talking to me while telling me to lie down this way or that way and manipulated my bones at the same time and even asked me questions and expected me to answer while my body faced one direction and my head faced another direction.

I didn't get the chance to ask him why I sometimes felt like there was a wire entangled with something in my neck and I had to twist around or shake my head and neck trying to loosen the wire. No. I had no chance to talk to him afterward either, as after the body twisting was done, he switched on the heavy massager and worked on my back and before I realized anything, I heard his voice in another cubicle as he worked on another patient.

The massaging and the rest of the therapy were carried out by assistants. His few minutes with me costs RM65 each time. I was wrong about the RM50 I mentioned earlier. That's penalty for missing a scheduled session if you don't show up and didn't call in to notify him 24 hours before the schedule. Quality & efficiency comes with a price?

In this session, after the heavy massage, someone placed a warm bag of beans (it felt like that, so I could only think of beans). It soothed my aching neck and prepared me for the usual bending torture. Surprisingly, the pain wasn't too bad this time. I didn't have to wriggle my toes or pick at imaginary dollar coins.

I read somewhere that chiropractics means gentle manipulation of the spinal bones to effect a cure for ailments. While that sounds like "gentle" to someone who's not in pain, it's not the same thing to the person who's got the pain. That explains the horrible descriptions that patients give to this mode of treatment. That said, I am reminded of a TV stunt show commentator who said, "Don't try this at home!!"

By the way, something else happened to me on one of those days before I went to the neck-wringing session. As if having the pain in the neck was not enough to make my life difficult while saying its long goodbye, another pain said hello.

It's a problem from the other end. A pain in the butt called constipation. I had to push so hard that morning I thought it was all stones inside. Anyway, after I was all soaked in sweat, I got it out somehow. Checked with the nurse for something to help me prevent next morning's "traffic" jam. She gave me some senekot. It's supposed to work like prune juice. I don't know why the prune juice didn't work this time though.

Then remembering a curious thing I saw on my infrared scan image, I looked at the printout again. There was this large red bar indicating a strong ache at the bottom of my anatomy. How could that have been predicted?!! I wonder...

A Pain In The Neck (part 6)

2009-12-25T12:50:00.000+08:00

...continuing the case history of my neck problem in which I 'miraculously' avoided an invasive surgery and found an alternative solution...

The Chiropractic Process – day 3

24-09-2005
Saturday morning saw me driving out to Penang at 10.15am feeling more confident that my problem neck is positively getting better. So I told the doctor.

After the initial spine and neck twisting, he must have instructed the attendant to increase the traction pressure based on my statement. Or maybe that's standard procedure. Anyway, after another slow death preview, I couldn't manage to get up from the torture rack at the first try. Attendant asked me if I'm dizzy. I said, no, just painful.

We proceeded to the next stage. This time she plugged a couple of wires to my lower spinal area in addition to the normal spots on my neck area. She said that was for the lower back pain which I sometimes had.

Like a shell-shocked and wounded soldier, I slowly drove over to my parents' apartment for lunch and swallowed a Ponstan to ease the pain and took a nap to recover. Youngest sis heard I was there, came over to compare notes. She just had an operation to remove a tumor behind her ear. Sigh....life after forty seems to revolve around some body repair shops, just like old cars having to go to workshops every now and then. Only difference is that old cars have more easily replaceable parts. If you can't find new parts you can usually find salvaged ones at junk yards.

Early evening, I proceeded to Bayview Beach Hotel for our company annual dinner. After the first few dishes a colleague sitting at our table pulled out two bottles of Merlot (red wine) to liven things up while the rest of our 1000 colleagues entertained themselves with the annual clowning by some home bred clowns with their dancing and singing ala Malaysian idol at the beginning stage where the judges kept slapping their foreheads. Except for the change in costumes and the theme, the rest of the menu's basically the same from year to year.

Unfortunately for me, the wine seemed to revive the gnawing pain. I have no idea how that can happen, but anyway, after a few more rounds of the spirit juice I didn't care anymore about pain. Another of our colleagues came over to our table with a few cans of beer and started filling our glasses. A strange thing happened. As soon as the beer went down, the pain subsided.

As if to cheer me up from my awfully low spirits, my lucky draw ticket number came up on the display board at about 10pm. I wasn't quite sure if I saw it right so I waited for it to show again. About 30 minutes later it was confirmed and I decided to call it quits for the night while I'm still sober. The alcohol has all been almost soaked up by the rest of the Yamseng guys anyway. It's a long way home to SP, and I don't have a reason to hang around for the draw on the grand prizes. Besides, I didn't want to risk meeting some cops who might want me to do a blow job on their breath-analyzer. They usually come out only after midnight.

Mom gave me a pillow which is similar to a chiropractic pillow the doctor recommended (which costs RM110). I tried it out for one night. It didn't seem to be a problem. Maybe I was sleeping mostly on my side throughout the night. Sunday afternoon I tried it again, this time I slept for an hour on my back. After I got up from the nap, I got that gnawing pain in the back of neck again. I decided the pillow's not suitable for me just yet. I had to put it away until this cervical column goes back to its original curve. I can survive the pain during and after treatment, but living with the torture all day long is too much for my liking.

By the way, guess what I got for the lucky draw? For those who have seen what's left on my head, you should know it's something which I don't really need. A hair dryer.

... to be continued...

Maybe he thought he was a hero...

2009-12-24T22:10:00.005+08:00

Another time in history he would have been an acclaimed hero. But in this century one just got to live with the times. And nobody kill tigers with bare hands anymore.

from a Reuters report:

Kang Wannian, a villager from Mengla, Yunnan Province, met the tiger in February while gathering freshwater clams in a nature reserve near China's border with Laos. He claimed to have killed it in self-defense.

The only known wild Indochinese tiger in China, photographed in 2007 at the same reserve, has not been seen since Kang's meal, the Yunnan-based newspaper Life News reported earlier this month.

The paper quoted the provincial Forestry Bureau as saying there was no evidence the tiger was the last one in China.

A local court sentenced Kang to 10 years for killing a rare animal plus two years for illegal possession of firearms, the local web portal Yunnan.cn reported. Prosecutors said Kang did not need a gun to gather clams.

Four villagers who helped Kang dismember the tiger and ate its meat were also sentenced from three to four years for "covering up and concealing criminal gains," the report said.

Kang was also fined 480,000 yuan ($70,000).

The Indochinese tiger is on the brink of extinction, with fewer than 1,000 left in the forests of Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand and Myanmar.

A Pain In The Neck (part 5)

2009-12-22T17:48:00.008+08:00

...continuing the case history of my neck problem in which I 'miraculously' avoided an invasive surgery and found an alternative solution...

The Chiropractic Concept - Neck Traction

22-09-2005
I didn't realize what would happen to me on day 2 of therapy. I wasn't feeling much better, but when the doctor asked, I lied that I felt slightly better to avoid telling my long story of how it sometimes felt better but sometimes it became worse. I also didn't ask him why when I drove the car I felt much less pain than when I sat in the car and someone else drove it. I'd observed a few times that after we arrived at work, I had to bear the pain for almost the whole day and even the 250mg Ponstan didn't help much.

He noticed my company name on my uniform and told me he knows my boss' wife who happens to be the landlady of the clinic space he occupied. While still chatting, he proceeded to give me the warming up twists and turns then passed me over to an assistant.

The assistant proceeded to give me an electrical massage and then led me to the traction room. She told me to lay on my back put my head into a neck traction device, closed it and pumped it up. It was a repeat of the first day's neck bending except that she didn't release the f**king thing!!! She left me lying on the bench, clenching and unclenching my fists and gritting my teeth in agonizing pain, while she went off to do something else. I prayed. I thought about my toes, wriggled them and imagined trying to grasp an imaginary coin with them. After about forever, she came back and took off the thing and told me to get up. I staggered over and sat down on another bench she motioned at. She plugged the same wires on the same spots as the other day and I proceeded to shrug my shoulders again.

------------------------

Today, I just did some research by myself and I found out what the neck bending device was and what it actually does:

"MAIN CONCEPTS OF CERVICAL NECK-TRACTION

The disc compression and protruded cervical disc is reduced, due to be elongated intervertebral discs spaces and foramina by Cervical traction function.

Cervical traction elongates intervertebral disc spaces and reduces protruded (herniated) discs, resulting in the decompression (release) of the irritated nerve roots. Traction promotes great results in reducing discomfort and symptom relief.

There two mechanisms that may help reduce protruded discs

1. Negative Pressure of the disc spaces that is created during traction, which sucks the protruded disc back inside.

2. Pushing effect of the posterior longitudinal ligament that exists on the back of the vertebral body and disc, which is straightened during traction."

So, logically it's not an overnight cure. As the doctor recommended, it's a 12 session thing. As the Americans say, 'it's a 9 inning ball-game'. You haven't lost the game yet after losing the first few innings. You'll know only when the game's over. Therefore it's not right to think I'm supposed to feel better after the first or second session. On thinking back, that long time in the traction device actually was the start to that opening up of the cervical disc space which is supposed to retract the herniated disc thus relieving the pressure on the nerve root. I realized, about half-way through the 'torture' that the pain had started to ease off, which could only mean that the concept actually works.

We'll see what happens after the 3rd day.

Don't go away, I'll be right back...

A Pain In The Neck (part 4)

2009-12-21T15:44:00.021+08:00

...continuing the case history of my neck problem in which I 'miraculously' avoided an invasive surgery and found an alternative solution...

The Chiropractor

Date: 15-09-2005
My 2nd sis-in-law found out about my condition. She gave me a phone contact number for a chiropractor who's reputed to have performed lots of cures for cases like mine. This one came highly recommended by her. Her brother-in-law who couldn't walk because of lumbar disc problem after a motor-cycle accident can now get off his wheel-chair and go back to work.

I found out later he is a Mat Salleh, an Canadian married to a Malaysian Chinese lady. Can speak a smattering of Penang Hokkien with a western accent.

20-09-2005
I went early, thinking that I'd have some trouble finding the place. It wasn't too difficult though. But trying to look for the signboard was more of a problem. It was placed 3 storeys up on the building they called Premier Centre. I couldn't look up straight to see it but somehow I managed to find it by turning my head sideways. Also luckily, I managed to find a parking space in front of the building.

I had to leave my shoes outside the office like everyone else. They probably just want to keep the carpets clean. There was a long queue of patients all waiting patiently. Some have their heads slanted just like mine. One guy sat next to me asked what my problem was. I told him briefly what happened to me. He then went into a presentation mode to tell me about his case. When I couldn't understand his terminology, he asked to borrow my pen. Just then the attendant called his name. Phew! That spared me the agony of listening to someone else's problem. I have enough of my own.

The chiropractor said I don't need surgery, after asking me all the necessary questions and writing the answers into my record card. "Easy to solve", he said after asking me to do some bending forward, backward and then to the left and right sides. Then he twisted me left to right, right to left and pressed the center of my back just to hear all that popping trapped-air breaking noise.

All I need, he declared, is about 12 sessions of spinal twisting and neck bending where it hurts the most. Ugh!!! He put my head and neck into a bending jig and pressed the frigging thing 3 times. Only the ends of my hair (or whatever that's left) didn't feel the pain. I felt tears running down both sides of my face.

Photo on the right shows a printout of an Infrared scan. Red bars indicate where the pain is most intense. See a large red bar on the bottom? We'll speculate about that one later...

Next session, he promised he will increase the number of times. He said, "No pain, no gain", again and again, as if I haven't heard of it before. Whenever I said, "argh!!!!" and he said, that's expected. I wanted to ask him if he learned it from the Gestapo, but I was panting and couldn't find my voice. It seems it has to get worse before it gets better. After the torture, he placed an ice-pack under my neck until the throbbing pain subsided.

Then he stuck a couple of wires on the back of my neck and connected me to some electrical pulsating machine and tickled my nerves. It jerked my shoulders up and down (some kind of involuntary shrugging), and massaged the back of the neck.

I hope he knows what he's doing. His card says he's B.Sc., DC, Doctor of Chiropractic, Life University (USA). He wants to see me back in two days for more torture.... and to think I'm paying him for it!!

chi·ro·prac·tic (kr-prktk)

A system of therapy in which disease is considered the result of abnormal function of the nervous system. The method of treatment usually involves manipulation of the spinal column and other body structures.

[chiro- + Greek prktikos, practical]

chiro·practor n.

to be continued...

A Pain In The Neck (part 3)

2009-12-21T15:29:00.010+08:00

A pain in the neck that stays for too long is not something you should take for granted even if you can stand the torture...

Here's the 3rd part of my story.

12-09-05
I'm still holding on. The worst is over, since the inflammation has subsided.
At the moment I'm using a neck brace when I'm working at my desk or in the car. (One of my carpool partners drives like a fighter pilot driving a 4 wheel-drive in the jungle!!!) But everyone at the office has to ask why I'm wearing a neck brace. Some call me Darth Vader!!!

I'm using my left hand for the mouse to take off the strain on my right arm nerve. By all indications, this time it's the c5,c6 disk that's the cause as the pain goes along the outside of the right upper arm. The worst time is when I try to brush my teeth in the morning. So, for the time being I also switch to using my left hand to do that.

I consider going for a swim every weekend should be a good start. Give the protruded material time to shrink off. That was what the neurosurgeon said.

After all that, I'll consider a tattoo on my right arm that says: "Do not exceed 10 kgs hanging weight". I'm happy as long as it hurts only when I laugh....sigh.
That's my life. And pain seems an inevitable part of it.

13-09-05
On 2nd thoughts again... The knife twisting pain came back this afternoon. I think I have no choice but to take next step. I found that a Specialist Hospital in Penang has PLDD facilities. I'm going there tomorrow to see if that option is applicable for my case. There is an Iranian specialist there who is quite experienced.

14-09-05
I met the specialist this morning. PLDD cannot be done on cervical disks, only for lumbar discs. That's what he said. His only recommendation was anterior discectomy, normal procedure for such cases. He's reputed to be the best neurosurgeon in this north zone. He wants to remove C3/4 and C5/6 discs as they're both herniated. His fee: RM17K.

To proceed or not, I'll keep that option open yet. Considering the consequences and costs, I give myself another month or so. If the pain increases in frequency and intensity, I'll proceed. If it decreases, I'll hang on for another 5 - 6 months as the 1st neurosurgeon advised, the disc material will shrink and release the pressure on the nerve. If my sleep, normal life or work is too impeded by the condition, then there is no choice. The choice is mine.

...to be continued

A Pain In The Neck (part 2)

2009-12-21T13:39:00.005+08:00

A pain in the neck that stays for too long is not something you should take for granted even if you can stand the torture...

Here's the 2nd part of my story.

September 2005
I referred to my skeleton again. That confounded prolapsed disk decided to give me another pain-in-the-neck. I don't know what I really did wrong to deserve this. Did I really over extend my weight bearing capabilities with my existing fragile condition? Is 10 kgs too heavy for my arms?

3rd week since that pesky pain took another stranglehold of my life and put me into daily torture from the moment I get up from bed. Only relief for me is when I lie down in bed or apply an ice-pack on the back of my neck. I read somewhere on internet that ice-pack works better because it relieves the pain and forces the blood flow to go deep inside and helps reduce inflammation faster. And that advice comes with a caution that ice application should be done for only about 20-25 minutes and at intervals of 5 hours. I don't know how much truth is in that. But I'm willing to keep doing it as long as I can stop the pain from driving me nuts.

Remembering the consultant neurosurgeon's prescription of Celebrex, I went to Taman Intan doctor for some. He only agreed to give me 5 doses of 200mg each. I read an on-line prescription that you either take 100mg twice a day or 200mg only once a day. It does help to reduce the intensity. The nagging, throbbing pain still persists. It's supposed to be able to reduce the inflammation as well. But I still need to lie down sometimes for some relief. I have to keep praying that I don't have to go to the final choice of an operation. It is not only costly; it has the risk of paralysis and only a 50-50 chance of improvement. Except that it removes the pain.

Come Sunday, I'm going to take a risk of driving to Penang to attend a nephew's wedding. I'll be prepared with pain-killers and an ice-pack. I'm trying to live as normal a life as possible. The trouble is, the neck column is one of the most mobile and fragile parts of the body. And it supports a heavy head. I thought of wearing a neck-brace, but with our kind of weather, I'd probably be sweating and soaking it in no time. I'm running out of ideas at the moment. I know that if I can keep from further movements and prevent further injuries, I have hopes it will get better.

It was not to be...

A Pain In The Neck (part 1)

2009-12-21T12:35:00.008+08:00

A pain in the neck that stays for too long is not something you should take for granted even if you can stand the torture...

Here's the 1st part of my story, from the beginning to the cure, which spanned almost 2 years.

The first strike.

It was the month of March, year 2004 when I found myself staring at my own skeleton. There was this not so obvious thingy which is not supposed to be sticking out, actually sticking itself out into another part of my anatomy, which puts pressure into my nerve which goes into my arm causing numbness that runs down my right arm down to my thumb and sometimes my last finger. Follow?

Prolapsed Disc. That’s how the specialist described it after looking at my MRI scan results. There were half a dozen A2 sized slides showing what looked like fossil bones dug up from somewhere (if only I know what I'm looking at) and that’s what the doctor said was the cause of my pain in the neck.

“…there is a central to right para-central prolapse disc with posterior osteophyte at C3/C4 and C5/C6. The cord is compressed and the right lateral recess are narrowed at these levels,”… which almost seemed like Greek to me, until I started looking for these terms in Wikipedia.com.

I had actually had the pain for a little bit too long, like more than a month, before I realized it wasn’t normal. There was also that tingling down my right arm. Several visits to the doctor later, he gave me a note to refer me to a specialist. That took me to Lam Wah Ee, Penang.

The attendant ordered me to get into my birthday clothes, remove all rings, dentures (if any), watches, wallets, credit cards…(boy, did I feel naked without my wallet) and given a ‘nightgown’ to put on. I had to lie down on a contraption which somewhat resembled a medieval torture rack, strapped in, donned a pair of ear-mufflers and before she rolled me into what looked like a tunnel she told me it would take 30 minutes, and don’t move! I almost panicked. I thought claustrophobia and stared at the roof of the tunnel which was so close to my face I felt I couldn’t breathe! The gizmo went grrrh-grrrh-bump-bump and started to increase in tempo and resembled a rock concert disc that got stuck in mid-track. Ages of Namo Amitabha later (it was only half an hour?) the noise level went down by like a few hundred decibels. And I also discovered I was still breathing. She pulled me out of the hell-hole. That rock concert blew a RM750 bill for my health insurance to sweat out.

Now that we found out what gave me the pain in the neck, the nag-in-the-pain (I mean the nagging pain) was classified as the 33.3% theory. 33.3% of people with this condition get worse, 33.3% have to bear this forever and 33.3% get lucky, I mean, get better. I told the doctor I’ll get better. That was after he told me what was involved if I opted for surgery and about the chances of improvement or the other options of therapy and self-improvement exercises. I didn’t bother to ask about the cost of surgery though. By the time I got the verdict (oops) diagnosis, I’d already made up my mind there’s to be no surgery involved. From the time when the pain first hit me until after the ‘rock concert’ I‘d already realized the pain wasn’t that bad anymore. He told me it would take 6 months to know which way it goes.

It’s been a year since then. I stand among the 33.3% lucky folks.

But wait. There's more to come.

How To Retire Painlessly

2009-12-18T12:11:00.028+08:00

Before you get on that horse to ride off into the sunset, decide what you want to do first. There's nothing worse than living with the idea that you'd be idling away the rest of your life. You may feel great to be free of all those tensions, stresses and responsibilities, but the elation is going to last only for a short while. After that the devil starts taking over that 'workshop' of your idle mind. Don't allow doubt and despondency, which may lead to poor health, take you to an early grave.

Don't fight it, if your time's up, it's up. And don't look back. You've spent more than half your lifetime toiling and working the skin off your fingers (or tearing your hair off your head, like it happened to me ever so often), it's time to let go, sit back & relax. Go get that guitar or that rocking chair which you've been thinking about.

Money not enough? There'll never be enough if you don't budget. But if you need to make some extra income for the just-in-case ocassions, pay a visit to this webpage for some useful tips.

Be prepared for change in lifestyle. You've spent almost all your life adhering to schedules; getting up on the dot, trying to keep those crazy deadlines, living your life according to company or bosses' demands. Now that you're free of all that, you'll feel disoriented. You'll need to recondition your mental facilities to your new status. Imagine yourself an ex-convict for a life sentence walking out through the gates.

If the wife has been your housewife for all your working life, consider taking over some of her house-keeping duties, like mopping the floor, cleaning windows, walking/grooming the dog, or getting out the garbage. If not to make her happy, at least you get some regular exercise. After all, you're not the only one getting old and needing to slow down.

Your wife (or hubby) may not get used to your ever-presence in the house unless you can blend in with the furniture. Differences in opinions may creep in. Your wife may worry about your limited savings and resources(except for Bill Gates & all those listed in Fortune Magazine, how many people can have unlimited resources?). Argue and reason over those differences, not quarrel with your partner's worries.

Don't risk your life's savings by trying to earn those 'pie-in-the-sky' promises of easy profits. Never go into any of those get-rich-quick schemes. And nothing comes free either.

If you can spare it spend some of your savings on holiday trips. You and your life partner deserve it. But keep the rest stashed away for rainy days in low-risk investments or fixed deposits. They may earn pittance, but they'll remain your money, not someone else's gambling funds.

More points will be added after I've suffered and survived them.

When a door of opportunity closes on you, take another.

2009-12-17T10:59:00.000+08:00

We paid a visit once to a Buddhist meditation retreat and were strolling around in the cool shade under the trees in the garden when a relative said, 'In this life, everything we own are just loaned to us while we are here on this earth. We can't take anything with us when we leave. Does it make sense then to fight so hard and play dirty to gain what we want in life?'

He should know what he was talking about. He had the potential and the qualifications to take charge of a government linked corporation, but was bypassed due to reasons he never cared to find out. He shrugged off the issue and went on to become a school teacher, a job he felt more comfortable with.

Years later and nearing the age of retirement, after he had served as headmaster at a school 60kms away from home, he had a chance to be transferred back to one in his home town. Somehow, another headmaster from the same hometown managed to get that coveted position through some connections and manipulations.

He was posted another lesser known school slightly further away. But he was rather philosophical about it and shrugged it off as another blessing in disguise.

As it turned out, that coveted position became one source of nightmare for the other fellow. Holding a Headmaster's position in a premier school is no bed of roses. The high expectations from the ministry, PTA, students et al made his life miserable.

Training for survival

2009-12-14T16:09:00.001+08:00

A stray bitch gave birth to a brood of 8 puppies in the bushes on top of a hill. This hill is the regular destination of health conscious old folks, business-people, professionals and students. Some animal lovers from among them would come up with food for the bitch everyday.

Soon the puppies were growing up. The lucky males got 'adopted' by some hikers. I met one such hiker and his son. The kid was lugging a bag downhill under his dad's watchful eyes.

"What's in the bag?" I asked the kid.

"It's a puppy." he said.

The pup kept very quiet in the bag. I asked the kid what he's going to name the pup. He shook his head.

"Just call him Hiker" I suggested. He nodded a yes.

I said, "That's good. Go give him a good home. It's better than letting him stay in these bushes. There are wild boars, cobras and civet cats prowling around these hills."

Animals learn by instinct. Here are some of the puppies seemingly playing with each other. They are actually training to defend themselves in case they meet up with some hostile animals turning up for dinner with dog meat on their menu.

If you can’t be good, be careful

2009-12-13T12:53:00.001+08:00

The world is actually a jungle. OK, it's now mostly done up in concrete and you find lots of well-dressed, civilized looking people. But it's still a jungle with the survival of the fit or the lucky. If you happen to be born and bred in a 'safe' place, you're lucky. Otherwise, you’d better be fit and smart enough to avoid becoming someone else’s breakfast.

If you think all the laws and statutes are going to be upheld to keep you safe and secure, think twice about it. It's not that cozy after all. We read about the weirdest things happening within the arms of the law itself. And don't think that just because the people you meet look and act innocent, they're as decent as they come.

And that's the worst part. In the real jungle, you know at once who are the aggressors and avoid these buggers. In our jungle, you can't tell the good guys from the villains until you get mauled. We read about them in the news everyday. And our friends tell us some of their personal experiences too. Sometimes we even get stung ourselves.

And talking about getting stung just be aware what kind of people you’re talking to especially if they’re strangers. There are lots of people out and about who are eager to make a fast buck out of those who are equally eager to do the same thing. Even seasoned crooks are not spared.

Like Michael Korda once said, ‘Keep your appetite in check’. The seven deadly sins are still as deadly as they were since the beginning of time. Stay alert, stay smart. And above all don’t get too greedy.

And if you can’t be good, be careful.

The Egrets

2009-12-11T17:03:00.001+08:00

Sungai Petani has very few hills, hence the open view. And the few existing hills are being relentlessly cut away, one of which is almost gone. It's more flat land, rice-fields on the west and housing estates all around. Trees are getting lesser due to the fast pace of development of satelite towns, especially on the eastern side where once rubber or palm oil estates flourished.

There's still a huge track of mangrove trees beside the Sg Petani river where hundreds of egrets make their nests. At dawn they'd fly off in groups to the padi-fields to forage for food and every evening they make their way home again.

It's lovely just looking at them leaving the river at dawn or heading for home at dusk. Sometimes we get to see them flying in their customary V-Formation. Some of them have probably lost their migratory instincts. They come home late and alone, looking lost, and just heading in the general direction of the river.

------------------------------------------------------------

The Egrets

Against an evening sky with dashing strokes of brush

The great Artist paints with coloured ink and wash

Gentle breezes warmly stroking hair and face

Greeting folks on evening walks keeping healthy pace

In the fading light of yellow and orange hue

To the mangroves where young ones feeding is due

From soggy rice fields to cosy nests for the night

Straggling egrets on their homebound flight

Each dawn a relentless struggle in search of food

Till dusk a continuous duty to nourish their brood

People, environmant and nature to blend we must

From birth, nourishment and growth till all turn to dust

Don't drive against a wall. You never know what's behind it

2009-12-11T16:28:00.000+08:00

I tend to agree with this other engineer because I once worked as one myself. There's such analysis tool called FMEA in which a bunch of guys (and girls) huddle together and imagine some of the worst things that can happen before you start designing something. We'd sit for hours arguing about some of the worst things that could happen while a product is in use.

I presume they hold these discussions before they design any building. But we worked on automobile parts of course, and while discussing such things we include the worst drivers and driving habits imaginable.

But who would think of letting a teenager without driving experience (maybe not even a licence) hold the steering wheel while getting the car in motion? A car in the wrong hands could become killing machine. And these days with better design and technology, they keep making cars that are more powerful which can go through walls easily.

Whatever you do, don't ever try to push start your car in a multi-storey parking lot even if you're an experience driver. You'd never know what's behind that wall.

It's not Snatch-theft, it's Robbery

2009-12-09T19:53:00.000+08:00

I think we've all gotten so used to reading all those reports of people having their bags, wallets or jewelry snatched while out and about we don't feel alarmed anymore. And there are those who get confronted by menacing looking hoodlums with parangs, knives or sticks and who forcefully take away their wallets, handphones, handbags etc. Some of them even come in gangs on motorbikes.

Get it right. This second activity should be termed robbery. If there are visible weapons like knives, sticks, crash helmets, it's called armed robbery.

But these days in view of what they to their victims, the crime should be termed snatch-robbery. It's not a theft nor a petty crime anymore even when one is not threatened with bodily harm.

We've had a number of cases in our neighborhood some years ago. The modus operandi was to push the victim (mostly ladies) and as soon as they fell, grab their goods and run. One old lady I know was pushed from her bicycle and her necklace was robbed from her neck. I say "robbed" because that's what it was. Daylight robbery. Sudden, violent and without mercy. And they have no qualms about hurting, maiming or even killing their victims.

For our neighborhood, perhaps, the law to their credit caught up with the guy or guys. There's been some peace and quiet for a while now. But that doesn't mean we don’t keep our eyes open our doors locked. Our women folk wouldn't think of going out with even a single piece of jewelry in sight.

I think it's time to get this terminology right, not for the sake of being politically correct but for the proper definition for the law to mete out punishment to fit the crime. Whether the law-keepers are really doing their jobs properly or not, is a different matter.

History Lessons & Patriotism

2009-12-09T11:05:00.000+08:00

I flunked history. I kept forgetting the dates when such and such events happened, when who did what, or when who was born and when who died. Dates, dates and dates. We had to remember those.

But I didn’t forget the lessons and the principles behind them. Of course, some teachers didn’t mention those principles. At first I wondered why we had to study history. I figured that out myself years later. So, it should be why, why and why. Not when, when and when.

How wonderful for us all if humans can really learn from history. But alas, that is not to be. We all think we are different. Our situation is different. But is it really? We seem to go through similar situations and make the same mistakes all over again and again. And the generations that come after us will still commit the same errors. If by any luck, they turned out right, they’d live happily for a while. If not, they are thrown into another age of chaos, each fighting the other for their rights and ruining the country until something happens or some leader comes along and save them from killing off each other. Otherwise, they keep their country in perpetual state of chaos and finally destroy the country and each other beyond salvation. The world watches helplessly while that happens to some countries today.

The US went through a devastating civil war before the southern states surrendered and gave up their rights to own slaves and to achieve unity as a nation, to live up to their principle of liberty and equality for all.

The Chinese went through years of a destructive cultural revolution to redistribute wealth for equality and decades of closed-door policy and eventually, after a few more decades of re-learning, are finally ready to get back to be on equal footing with the rest of the world.

The Russians managed to bring their nation together for a while under communism. But they didn’t realize their ideology couldn’t hold the people under it for long. They successfully controlled the people and saved the country from ruin but they failed to revive the people’s self-reliance.

The Indian sub-continent, still shackled by their caste system for centuries, would probably have achieved equality and better wealth distribution for all their citizens if Mahatma Gandhi remained alive to guide them through that phase. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen as he was killed by someone who represented those who wanted to keep their status quo. Thus India remains a nation of huge contrasts between the haves and have-nots.

Japan and Germany had their countries and economies rebuilt because they took too drastic actions which fell back on themselves. Their drastic actions however, turned out to work well for them because it cleaned up their old systems and were compelled to start afresh.

I could go on and name more examples of historical lessons, but I’ll miss my point. It would surely be a sad day if we have to solve our problems the way some of these countries try to solve theirs. Therefore, the way I see it, we'd gone through the first step of re-engineering we wanted to make. The next step must be followed through. The crutches must go before too long, before the mold sets, before the extremities become too deep, before we drop too far behind and find our cake becomes just a shell with icings and decorations but hollow inside. The good stuff all gone. The cream of our crop scattered all over the world, benefiting everyone else except us.

All the flag flying and slogan shouting will do us no good. All must start with changing that mindset. Yes, it's easier said than done. But every positive step is a lot better than bickering about who's got more rights.

Now see what you've done, Tiger

2009-12-08T10:09:00.000+08:00

Hey, Tiger!

Now you've gone into the woods and stirred up a whole horny nest. Oops, I mean hornet's nest. You paid off one (that's what we're told) now you're gonna pay and pay until you bleed through the nose. Methinks, we'd thought you could've at least learnt something from MJ.

Anyways, ladies, if half the news we read are to be believed; if your man's young, tall, dark and handsome and he looks like he might get rich and famous soon just doing whatever he enjoys doing, consider getting him 'neutralized' for your own good.

Yes. (Good, as in belongings). Then only you can keep him 'safe from predators' lurking in the woods. Otherwise just be prepared to share him with the rest of the world.