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Tuesday, 21 July 2009 12:28 AM
The evil among us




How many more must die in custody before Malaysia does the right thing? Those who died have as much right as the next person to exist in this world. Even if they have allegedly committed crimes, they deserve to be treated as human beings not animals to be tortured and intimidated.

When will Malaysia sign, ratify and implement the United Nations Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment? When will the government stop its lip service and start doing something about deaths in custody, which have become too common to ignore?

We can talk about the liberalization measures and removal of Bumiputera quotas till we lose our voices if Malaysia is portrayed (and in many ways, the portrayal is a reflection of reality) as a country with no rule of law, where the rich, corrupt and powerful are allowed to trample on the rights of ordinary Malaysians and where some are more seemingly more equal than others. I mean, why would an MNC head honcho want to live here in Malaysia when he and his family can live in Singapore or Hong Kong? Malaysia itself is not that cheap anymore. The cheap labour we have are from Indonesia, Vietnam, Myanmar and elsewhere. Besides, the Malaysian market is really very small compared to Indonesia and China. And at least, in Singapore and Hong Kong, we don’t hear of people dying under mysterious circumstances while in custody.

There is something truly evil lurking within those in positions of power and the government when they allow the nation’s young to die, purportedly as they were being held by authorities. First a Mongolian, then a Malaysian, and then another, and another, when will it end? It could happen to anyone, it could happen to you and me.

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Wednesday, 8 July 2009 12:20 AM
Thank you for the music

MJ

I wasn't sure if I wanted to write about this but then I do want to make a record of it, just so that I can read about my thoughts on it years from now.

Yes, I'm talking about the tragic death of Michael Jackson. The news channels are all broadcasting his public memorial service and I must have been the only person whose eyes weren't glued to the TV earlier in the evening.

It's still so surreal watching Michael Jackson's funeral. It's hard to believe he's dead when his songs are so full of life. His songs have been part of my growing up years. I remember I was introduced to the world of pop music when I first saw the Beat It and Billie Jean videos. I was in my early teens then, still finding my way in this world.

I was never a hardcore fan - or even considered myself a fan - but in my mid-teens, I did sing along with Michael Jackson and Siedah Garret whenever I hear their duet, I Just Can't Stop Loving You, on the radio. I did have a soft spot for that song.

In university, we sang Will You Be There from the movie Free Willy along with a medley of other songs at the inter-college choir competition and won first prize. We sang a few English songs but I only remember John Denver's Country Road and Michael Jackson's Will You Be There.

Through the years as Jackson descended to the pale androgynous figure that he became, his life becoming more and more bizarre and I soon got tired of the madness and lost interest.

It was only some time last year that I was re-introduced to his songs again during a trip to Cameron Highlands with some friends from church. As we Malaysian and Filipino gals drove along the winding roads, we kept playing and singing Michael Jackson hits. All of us knew or recognised his songs. Indeed, almost everyone has a favourite Michael Jackson song. He truly was a global icon.

His death is heartbreaking and came too soon - imagine the songs he could have written if he lived or had the opportunity to focus on songwriting in the last few years of his life. For me, it was the end of an era.

Perhaps this world has no place for someone like Michael Jackson. He had to be an adult as a child but remained a child in adulthood. Maybe that could explain the weird things he did.

For me, the hypocrisy emerging from the last two weeks would be how everyone is coming forward to say how great Jackson was. I wonder if they said the same during his darkest hour. And why do we only appreciate what we have when we lose it?

Even the performances during the memorial feels a little contrived at times. In death, so many of us still hunger for a piece of Michael Jackson, or offered their memories of him. Admittedly, this is exactly what I am doing. Perhaps it's because he offered us an escape from reality through his songs, and now a crucial link to those ephemeral fantasies is gone forever.

Thank you for the music and God bless you, Michael Jackson.

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Monday, 29 June 2009 12:24 AM
fish food, part duex

FishFood2


This is looking more and more like a food blog...

Well, so be it. Mom and I tried our hand at making nyonya dumplings. It's a first for both of us, especially seeing the inky blue colouring oozing from the bunga telang soaked in hot water. And the dumplings turned out good too even though we forgot to add the peanuts.

Not bad for a first attempt. :-)

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Sunday, 31 May 2009 2:40 PM
How about some fish food?

Zongzi


Zongzi. Yum.

I helped my mom make them last weekend. Wrapping the zongzi or dumplings is a real challenge and it has taken me years to master it. Even now, I would say I’ve achieved only 70% of mom’s dexterity in wrapping all that glutinous rice, beans, pork, salted egg, Chinese chestnut, mushrooms and dried shrimps with two pieces of bamboo leaves and tying them all up with straw into little bundles of delight.

So among the perfectly wrapped pyramids of sticky glutinous rice in my mom’s house, you’ll find a handful of bulging imperfect pyramids, some bursting at the corners – those would be my handiwork.

Every year, I’d eat zongzi without really knowing why. It has something to do with a tradition of throwing the zongzi into the river. Today I came across an article in the Weekend Journal, saying that occasion of eating zongzi which is also known as the Dragon Boat festival, is to commemorate Qu Yuan, a poet and member of the Chu state ruling family during the Warring States period between 475 and 221 BC.

The story goes that Qu Yuan threw himself into tributary of the Yangtze river in despair when the Chu state fell to the Qins. He had warned the Chus about the Qins but was played out by political rivals and banished to a region south of the Yangtze river.

The people were overcome by sorrow and threw rice balls into the river so that the fish would not eat Qu Yuan’s body, which they couldn’t find. They also took dragon boats out into the rivers along with the load drums to scare the fish.

And that’s how we end up eating zongzi every fifth day of the fifth lunar month.

The story got me thinking, does that mean that all these years we have effectively been eating fish food? Well, even so, I’m not complaining. It’s good fish food, after all.

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Tuesday, 19 May 2009 10:32 PM
Weddings and funerals

Photobucket


I love weddings. The flowers, ribbons and lace, flower girls and ring bearer…

…even when you are one of the odd singles forced to dine with a group of aunties and uncles you've never met because the hosts want to make up the number at empty tables...

…even when you have to listen to mushy love songs from the 1980s the whole night…

…even when you have given a big angpow for bad food disguised as five-star hotel offering…

…even when there's a chance you may bump into the jerk you once dated…

Okay, I lied, I don’t lurve weddings that much but they are tolerable only if the ones tying the knot are close friends or family. What I dread the most is the dude you’ve not met in a million years, who comes along with some preconceived perceptions of you. This is how one episode went:

“So, which category are you?”

“What?”

“You know, are you one of them or us?”

“Ohhh….whatever I am, I’m the opposite of you.”

An audible gasp is heard.

“You’re still single then. So when’s your turn?”

“My turn to win the lottery, fly kites or kick your ass, you bonehead? You know, if this were a funeral, I’ll make sure I’m the first to ask you ‘When’s your turn?’”

Hah…I love having the last word.

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ABOUT ME

My professor in writing class said that to improve your writing, you need to write and read voraciously. Here I am, spilling the beans...well, almost. Well, anyway, I get to write and publish (don't you love the Internet?), and release some frustrations too (this is where the "therapy" bit comes in. Note that "This site is best viewed with FIREFOX".

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