Prayer is not an old woman’s idle amusement. Properly understood and applied, it is the most potent instrument of action. -Mahatma Gandhi-

i was at maran last week for the pangguni uthiram festival at the sri marathadavar aalayam temple. legend says that some 120 years ago, construction workers wanted to cut down a tree and when they tried to do so, the tree bled red blood and a worker went into trance. in trance, the guy said that the tree needs to be spared i.e. not chopped down.

since then people started prayed at the site of this tree and the place became a small temple.

word of the tree’s miracle spread and as the years passed, thousands started visiting this temple and make vows.

the original tree suffered the lapse of time. the tree in the picture above is a twin to the original tree and is located right next to the original tree. since the original tree is closed to the public, people stuck bits of yellow cloth symbolising a wish to this tree instead.

there were hundreds of stalls selling all sorts of things all around the temple grounds and along roads leading towards the temple.

people who had their vows fulfilled shaved their heads, carried milk pots, fire pots, burning coconuts or even kavadhis. i saw two guys rolling on the ground around the temple.

it is pretty much like thaipusam. just the whole festival felt much more solemn and ceremonious. there were music tauters but there wasn’t a blow out concert like the one at batu caves. frankly, there was nothing elaborate about the temple whatsoever. but the people i spoke to swear by the temple’s miracles, which some claim to be among the most potent and powerful in these parts of the world.

 

Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down. -oprah-

i was at a conference over the weekend as a presenter! hah! so that is it, folks, i have officially presented a paper at an international conference, so woohoo!

of course, i was shivering like a mad woman that very morning. i swear i did not have an ounce of coffee or a spoonful of sugar, but my adrenaline level just shot up to the roof. i was jumpy, i ran about like crazy and was laughing insanely at everyone i met. ok, exaggeration, but i was smiling stupidly that whole morning la.

my presentation was early afternoon and i could hardly eat anything at all at lunch. when dragged to the buffet table anyway (i have such delightful friends), my muddled state of mind choose a bowl of tom yam soup, rice with asam pedas and spicy chicken which had a misunderstanding with my stomach almost as soon as it hit the digestive juices.

i have been a debater for like, what, forever? but this is a whole different scenario. where some paper presenters hardly had any audience at all, i had a room full of professors and i swear it felt like i was just walking to the front of a firing squad out there. you can’t bullshit facts in front of kahunas like these (oh, i never bullshit at debates either… er… really! heheh!). my hands were so fucking cold that i had to sit on them. i kept telling myself that it’s just like a debate… it’s just like a debate… it’s just like a debate… god, i hope i won’t choke!!!

and i really am not the prepared-speech sorta person. been there, tried that, but my debate training gets vexed everytime and the results are disasterous! so although i have my slides prepared the night before, i only listed out my main points half an hour before the presentation.

when my turn came, i went out there, fumbled okay… fumbled with my thumb drive and jabbed it into the pc and opening my slides. the chairperson was dreaming so i had to walk over to him to ask to be introduced. and then realised that i left my notes on the panel desk and was practically standing at the podium with both hands in my pockets and nothing else. and then… er… and then…

i presented. i recall the whole thing like a daze, like a dream- you know what happened, but you don’t remember much of it. amnesia? i know i presented. i know i covered all the points i needed to cover. i remember more and more people entering the room as i was speaking. i remember some people taking photos. i remember running low on time as the chairperson signalled me my last five minutes. i remember ending my slides and wrapping up and an applause?

i guess it was not that bad. the anticipation of the event was actually the nerve wrecking part of the whole ordeal, although my hands were still trembling as i shoke hands with strangers after the talk. i look back at the talk itself as being in an inter-dimentional vortex. i can’t remember that 20 minutes, really, but they tell me it was good. i’m tremendously relieved.

so that is it, my first presentation at an international linguistic conference, shivering in my pants and everything.

 

Yes, I’ve heard of “decaf.” What’s your point? -spotted on a bumper sticker in town-

I took this picture last week but I only got around to edit it for this entry last night.

This is a truck, but if I could direct your attention towards the rear end of then lorry…

It is a bear. I was in total shock. I know the toy is not directly in the way of the exhaust, but it is hanging by a string around its neck and plainly swinging ala-hangman against the spare tyre under the lorry.

some kid’s gonna have nightmares over this for weeks!

 

mIghtaHghachvo’ yImej ‘ej yIQaQ! roj yInej ‘ej yItlha’ -Psalm 34.14 in klingon-

of late, i have found myself engrossed in vintage rock. that’s right, the goth snare is beginning to wear off and i’ve phased into good ol’ retro rock and roll. for the past week or so, i’ve been listening to tesla, yes, bad company, deep purple, black sabbath, eagles, the who, allias, xtreme, faster pussycat, toto, pink floyd, heart, and of course, meatloaf:)

halian led me to an interesting observation the other day. he mentioned how he has been writing contemplative blogs on life and so was i. as i blog-hopped around, i noticed that suddenly, quite a number are in this lets-reflect-on-life mode. i think its seasonal, but what interests me is that everyone seems to be in the same state of mind.

and when i take a step back, i notice that people in my office are starting to make idlic philosphical remarks about life and the way of the world too. very strange. people are talking about the oxymoron of life’s simplicity vs life’s complication, the satire of world events vs children’s fairy tales, metaphors of the little things vs things that really should matter vs the bigger picture, and then there are the living for the moment vs planning for the bright and shiny future dilemma.

what’s with all the philosophy lar??

i think it’s that time of year. the time of year when months passes without a single public holiday and a school holiday planted smack in the middle. if my calculations are right, it is also exam season, for both the studying and working. i don’t know what’s going on, but the chi seems to be pretty morbid around here. heck, even the catfight in the allasiansdebate egroup has died down. hm, yes, very strange.

it is william shatner’s birthday today. star trek fans would know. in case you don’t he’s the dude who plays captain kirk on the original starship enterprise. if you don’t know who captain kirk is, then choSuvchugh ‘oy’lIj Daghur neH… hahahaha!… that’s klingon, by the way, but you wouldn’t know that either:p

qoSlIj yItIv, will!

 

Beef, yes. Roast beef. It’s the Swedish term for “beef that has been roasted”. -count olaf-

sepet is the kind of movie that i immensely applaud for its optimism and its intelligent reference to reality. duh. i am living a sepet, and i think inter-racial relationships are just like any other relationships and they are all beautiful. i think that the message that yasmin ahmad wants to portray is not just an interesting one, but also an important one. race really is really a non-issue when human relationships are concerned.

it seems strange that humans are the only species in the world that discriminates and draws distinctions onto each other (aside from all that jazz that we are also the only species that kill each other for fun and have sex for pleasure). if we understand that our roots does not matter and that the important thing is that we are all here and this is now no matter how you got here, then we should als understand that we do have a choice: to see each others equals or to hold past grudges.

sepet is an important movie, in this sense. a scenario where everyone gets along ain’t that bad. really. i know.

russell and i walked in half way through lemony snicket’s a series of unfortunate events yesterday. the movie comes across to me smewhat like big fish. i like it, actually, although i would appreciate if someone would fill me in on what happened before the kids went to stay with uncle monty. something about a fire?

This is the story of the three Baudelaire children. Violet loved to invent; her brother, Klaus, loved to read; and their sister, Sunny… she loved to bite. My name is Lemony Snicket and it is my duty to tell you their tale. No one knows the precise cause of the Baudelaire fire, but just like that, the Baudelaire children became the Baudelaire orphans.

i like these sorta movies although i have never read the book. i lik the language used and the dark humour. very cool. but hey, this is just me and i only saw half the movie.

 

“hello, my freaky darlings!” -’mister skinner’ from the league of extraordinary gentlemen-

this is the basin platform drain from the water cooler at my faculty. see the little fishies? yea, my campus has always been known to run against the crowd where the weirdness scale is concerned. i mean, what other campus has a morgue and three graveyards on thir grounds? and yes, its ot one, but three!

so taking a step or two back, fishies carved on the drain of a water cooler ain’t so bad after all. it’s actually quite cheerie. apart from the fact that the cooler is placed at a dingy corner of the department. and nevermind that the water that seeps out from it takes forever to fill the tumbler…

hm… maybe that’s why the fishies are there.

a lesson that we stop a minute to take a look around instead of rushing through life, we’d actually notice some beautiful scenes along the way.

ah… now i get it.

wynn dear, i know i get crazy sometimes, but you know i love you:)

 

Ah, this is obviously some strange usage of the word ‘safe’ that I wasn’t previously aware of. -douglas adams-

i received a strangely fat package this evening. upon opening it, i pulled out a stack of papers. there were these few lines on the paper at the very top:

maaf saudari saya in staf XXX. sebenarnya saya ni tak ada kije. sepatutnya bornang ni saya kena hancurkan kerana permohonan saudari tak berjaya. tepi kerana tengok salinan sijil ni masih ok saya hantar kan kembali kepada saudari.

the name of the organisation has been bleeped out for confidential purposes.

there was a stack of my photocopied certs and whoever returned them also gave me back my photo. the package took two rm1 stamps to arrive.

whoever you are, er… thanks.

 

The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives. -Albert Schweitzer (1875-1965)-

Over the weekend, I have been receiving advice on living life with importance placed primarily on me. The message said that life should be lived for myself and I should first find that peace within me.

I admit that I ignored that message that weekend, being more occupied with engagements, which worked towards a vision of happiness, or at least I think so.

But then at lunch today, I was introduced to someone. She is stylish as in stunning. She has a stable high profile job. She has her own house with two cars. She is in her mid 30s and a very bright laughter. She is unmarried, she is seeing someone but the relationship is stagnant and she has pretty much decided that it is not exactly going anywhere.

But this is what makes her awesome: she is completely independent. She is the sort of strong woman that people would take a step back and just watch the aura of confidence radiate from her. And she is happy! She is the sort of person who have found happiness beyond worldly dependence and have a complete grip of her life and inner peace. She has lots of friends and a fulfilling career and a fun social life.

I am not saying that I am gung-ho to live life ala independent woman now. I simply admire her outlook of such positivity. Every new encounter holds new oppourtunity for her. As long as you hold on to your principles, she says, and believe that what you do is honest and respectful and good, life will take care of the rest.

Robyn told me that people like me invest so much in everything I do, work, relationship, that I get obsessed in it. Wynn tells me the same thing.

I think ‘obsessed’ is a strong word. They reply that maybe it is that strong of an… well… obsession.

But that is me, you see? When I engage in something I would put everything into it, my blood and sweat, heart and soul, especially for something I believe in, even more so for someone I love. I have always been taught to put others ahead of myself and let the interests of people who are important to me be ahead of mine, or overshadow mine, or even take over my own.

I realise that I have great empathetic abilities, which probably explains why I get unbelievably and unreasonably emotional at times. When we were kids, my siblings and I got to eat ice creams twice a week. Every week, I would save my ice cream sticks in the freezer instead of eating them. Why? So that my brother and sister got to eat them three times in a week because they loved them so much.

When it was time to move to the new house, and the three of us finally got to have our own room, I had first choice. Perks of being the eldest. But I choose the smallest room downstairs. Everyone else got the much more spacious rooms upstairs.

Don’t ask me why I do these things. I simply always put others ahead of myself. I go where others want to go and do what others want to do. It comes to a point where deciding things for myself is so hard because I never got accustomed to doing what I wanted just because.

It was not until just a few years back when I really did things or bought things for myself. But I never got used to it. Not even today.

Bottom line is this (its my blog and I will write long posts if I want to): how do I find that peace in me? how do I break away from the circle of always having to please people. I am not exactly an all-out people pleaser, just a self-ignorer, I suppose. I know all those things about real friends and how that will always stand up by your side even through rainy days and all so I am not exactly pleasing people to maintain pretentious friendships.

It is just that inner peace that I seek. Something that I am not getting. A gap in me still empty. A glow in me I am not feeling.

 

i treasure your love, i never want to lose it, you’ve been thru the fires of hell and i know you’ve got the ashes to prove it. -meatloaf-

I have not felt the blade twisting in me for some time now. Figures. Just when you thought the wounds are healing.

I have absolutely no mood for anything today. I am just fed up of everything. I wish I could just go to sleep and wake up when everything has blown over and everyone has stopped fighting. I cannot understand why people cannot get along. It would be different if they were criminals of unkind people or insincere people. But they are good people. They are people who care about me. They are good people who have respectful jobs and lead honest lives and dream of good things for the future.

So tell me why I should not just retreat into my dreams. In my dreams, everyone gets along. In my dream, everyone understands that it is not the genetic make up or right or birth of a person that defines their dignity. There is so much that we can learn from each other if we only give each other a chance. In my dream, no one gives up, and no loses heart. In my dream, we are all the same.

I cannot stand the batman life. I cannot stand being pulled on each arm in different directions. I cannot stand the sore in my limbs and I am tired of crying in my sleep every night. You do not see my tears. No one does. Because you do not want to see me cry. No one does. But I cry anyway. Because the world is too much for me.

I am running on hope, and not much else. Would you understand that I would give up the world for you to get along? Would you understand that I would give up everything to be caught in a continuous loop of that moment where we all sat at the same table together? Would you understand that it is you that complete me? All of you?

So let me sleep. I cannot stand the silence. I cannot stand you all with backs against each other. I hate not knowing where to go home to. Most of all, I hate going home to one place, but my heart going home to another.

But you see, I cannot sleep. I am too responsible. You taught me that. I must drag this burden with me every waking moment of my conscious life. I will call you, yes, and I will laugh. When you see me, I will smile. My heart will be calling out to you, but you will not hear. A blade will turn in me and you will not see. I die everyday you do not get along.

All I want is for you to be proud of me. There has not been a day in my life that I did not cry myself to sleep knowing I have failed.

 

Look Life in the eyes, Grown calm and very coldly wise, Life will have given me the Truth, And taken in exchange – my youth. -Sara Teasdale

When I was really much, much younger, my brother and sister used to have this song we would hum whenever we were yelled to clean up our mess of toys in the living hall or in our rooms. The tune is somewhat like the heads-and-shoulders-knees-and-toes tune. Whenever we were in a hurry, we would hum that tune along and quickly rush to pick up our mess. When the pressure got stronger and tensions were greater, we would quicken the pace of the song tune and moved faster to clean up our toys. When we relaxed (or rather picked at the clearing up process), the tune slows down.

Thinking back at this, I guess it is laughable how tunes correlate to how fast we worked. It reminds me a lot of the old vcr videos which sound would go into a high pitched frenzy when the tape speeds up fast forward. We were pretty much like that, actually.

We do not have such tunes when we clear things up now. But work in the office today is just insane and as I type my essays, research my articles, conduct phone interviews and reply my emails all at the same time, the tune suddenly seeped its way back into my head.

 

Tinggal kasih menolak sayang, kalau panjang umur semula pulok kita jumpo, Eee wa bulan, ee wa bulan, ee wa bulan teraju tigo…

Last weekend, I was away at pasir gudang for their 10th annual international kite festival.

I have a confession. I have never flown a kite before. I know! It is utterly embarrassing, but the last time my brother and I tried to fly one at the lake gardens years and years ago, we ended up dragging the kite fore miles and miles but the kite stayed on the grass and finally tore to pieces after being abused by the earth for so long. Hence ended any of me and my siblings attempt at kite-flying. I was strongly under the impression that kite flying required strong winds, the sort you just cannot get on this parts of the planet.

My friends, there were giant and I mean colossal kites at bukit layang-layang that weekend! There were kites three storeys wide, there were kites that made music [musical kites, I kid you not], there were kites in a multitude of shapes and sizes. There were these things called the low-wind kites which could be flown indoors and did not require wind to fly. And there were kiters who are so skilled at the art, that they could navigate kites as if they were puppets. The kite would walk, jump, hop, fly high, fly low, turn left, right, go low, high etc. There were kites that dropped sweets for the children and even ariel photography kites, where a camera is hoist onto a kite to capture earth-ward shots of the audience.

Oh, and then there were the huge expandable kites, massive 3d things made out of nylon in all sorts of shapes. There were train kites, kites tied to each other by successions to form this long train of kites that are synchronised in movement. There were buggies pulled along by kites. And there were performance kites! Kites which told a story. It is really cool, there were these two kites tied together by one string and controlled simultaneously by one kiter. The kites go opposite directions, but they do not get tangled and they both move on cue to a story told over a loud speaker at the dj corner. How cool is that?

And of course, there were rokakku i.e. fighter kites i.e. kites that go into battle with each other. How they go into battle, however, is different from our stereo understanding that fine glass in stuck onto the string to cut each others kites loose. In this battle, they do not cut each others kites loose. That would just be mean. Instead, they weave their kites against each other while in the air and try to choke the air out of the opponents kites. When the opponent loses control over his kite, he loses control over the kites air circulation/ navigation causing the kite to fall. The winner is he whose kite stays up the longest.

And of course, we have the traditional waus. I never could tell the difference between a wau bulan a.k.a. wau sobek, wau kucing and a wau merak. Honestly, I think I can still get confused over what is what because the designs are getting so integrated into one another. The waus were flown by pakciks clad in traditional outfits and the whole do just radiated with kampung vibes. It was refreshing, really.

The weather was frankly not as permitting as I would have liked. It rained a lot and I learnt that there is no wind after a rain and we would wait a long while for the wind to return and the windmill to indicate that the wind was good for kiting.
This is certainly something I highly recommend you experience at least once in a lifetime. I would personally come back.

Makes me want to go fly a kite..