These are just plain opinions; they can be rejected, refuted, argued against or accepted. These words are not meant to impose my ideals upon anybody , and they are not going against the law of the diversity of thoughts~~

Friday, 7 December 2012


                  I have no way to describe how beautiful is a morning. The dark skies punctured by flickers of sunrise, in the wee hours of the morning , my friend, is a beauty beyond comparison. I don't know how you see it, but as a colour-blinded guy, I  always see the morning sky with a purplish hue and little smudges of white. This is not the 10 am type of morning my friend, this is the breaking dawn. Not that weird ,awful movie, this is the real thing.

              I haven't seen it for a while, and I wonder how it looks now .  In this hot tropical country, this hour is the coldest of all. The leaves and the shy morning flowers are all covered with dew. The land is soft with moisture, and it gives a spongy feeling when you step on them, like a red carpet celebrating your arrival. It made you feel like a king, because you are all alone there, while others are sound asleep. You have the power to wake up, my friend, while others are slumped under their blankets.

        It is cold , but there is no need to get in sweaters, as it will really be warm soon.  As you tread upon the wet grass you can hear the birds singing; they celebrate the beginning of a new day. The crickets make their final songs heard before the night show ends, and the animals of the day would take their places.  

             The moon in the morning is nothing like the one in the night. They called it ' getsuga' in Japan. I really like that word.  The night is over, yet why is the moon still there? It kept me company in the dawn, until the sun rises, and it faded from sight. It has been a long time since we saw a getsuga, my friend, and I have started to forget how does it looks like.

*nothing to do with the post

         I can't deny the fact that even though the morning is such a beauty, it is also the most tempting time to sleep. The comfort it gives when you snuggle under your thick layer of blanket, damn, I feel sleepy. It feels like someone you love so much gives you the warmest hug ever. You don't want to let the blanket go. The pillow is your best companion. Nothing can separate us  now, not even yells from an angry mom, or a splash of water on your face by a bored dad. If your young sister dare to just tickle your foot to wake you up, there is always the falcon kick , usable for in-sleep defense. Poor child.

            But you haven't seen the morning skies, have you? How do you know that such a short slumber is better than this precious beauty my friend?

            I love stating the obvious, you see, as the obvious things are the ones we almost always forget.

           Have you forgotten how beautiful it is when the clouds part to give way to the rays of light? Man, this is painful to write. The morning signifies a new hope and a new beginning, and how do you hope to change if you don't even begin? Our prophet promised us blessings for those early risers, to the ones who appreciate the beauty of a morning. Our time as youth is the best time to savour the brilliance of the morning, before we 
become adults who view mornings as hasty breakfasts , traffic jams and exhaust smoke.

                I want to change, my friend. I missed the beauty of the morning. Wake up. Let us pray.

Wednesday, 28 November 2012

Go home~

                    I have created a portal gun. It took me all my time and I poured all my efforts into making this; which could stand as an explanation for my falling grades. I found  a manual of portal gun making 101 in the world wide web, which constitutes of a rather complicated list of materials and procedures, but man, I did it. First of all, do you have any idea what a portal gun is? It's a gun that makes portal, get it? You shoot once at a wall and shoot again at another surface, and a portal is created which connects both places.  Man, this is difficult.

                The manual suggested a few ramifications and improvements that allow the creation of portals  using electromagnetic waves, which means one can create a portal here and shoot another far across the seas. There, you can travel thousands of miles in a second. The problem was to project the wave of the right  intensity to produce  a portal at the intended place. A microscopic error causes the portal to be displaced hundreds of miles away. I displaced the projected portal in the depth of Carribean seas once, resulting in a fish rain in Mantin.   Nevertheless, the portal gun was a success. After hundreds of tries ,during a skipped maths lesson, I managed to create a portal to a place which the gun was built for. I created a portal to Khan Younus, Gaza.

                 I went into the portal in my bedroom cupboard and entered a very  small house . It was nothing like Narnia. I saw a chair and a sickly thin kid, before someone hit my head with a bowl, and my whole world went black.

               I woke up and found myself tied to a chair . My head hurt like hell. There was a young man standing infront of me, clutching his hands together.  He looked way younger than I was, but his complexion was more like an old man. Pain-stricken and tired.

                "Who are you?" , he asked in Arabic , with a slight Palestinian accent.

          I managed to explain myself and about the portals, as he happened to be a student at the University of Palestine, and he understood English well.

        " I am nothing but a friend. I want to help, however possible".

          His name was Hassan. He lived in that small house with a younger brother and a very sick mother. There were scars all over his arms and burns upon his chest. His face was burdened with sorrow and pain, but it glowed with warmness and solace.

          " How do you wish to help?",he said. " You are just one man. Even with that strange machine of yours, there is no way you can help. I know that this thing can transport soldiers and support troops from everywhere else, but they had decided not to come for the past fifty years. Why would they come now? Hear now my friend, their fighter jets are raining us with bombs, and you people who fear death more than anything, can do nothing if you really come, but to die in masses"

          " Haven't you ever wonder, how we managed to sustain ourselves after such a long time? We should have went extinct years ago after barrages of chemical bombs and air strikes. It is not the brute strength of men that kept us alive, my friend . You people can't even stop bickering about fast food restaurants while we are dying here, and you wish to help?

                People out there are still being indecisive about our situation here, even after so many died. They came to this land and smeared Al-Aqsa with their filth. They came with guns and tanks, while we only had self-made rockets and rifles. They took our homes and killed our brothers. And some of you are still making decisions! Have they forgotten Shabra and Shatila? Aren't there enough deaths already? We pledged to the world with our bloodied hands and broken limbs, and the world ignored us. We tried to retaliate, and they named us the militants. When was it wrong for one to defend his religion and his nation? Indeed , Allah is our only help and our only support.

            Go home, my friend. There is nothing you can do. It is too dangerous here. I knew that deep in your heart, your only wish is to help, but you will only die in vain. I look at your face and I knew it.
When was the last time you and your friends prayed Subuh together? You have no chance against these animals, if such is the case.  When was the last time you recite the Quran, my friend, if you really want to fight with us?"

             I went back without being able to say even a word. I am weak, helpless and insignificant. This fat lump of meat can do nothing there but die. I returned and swore to come again.

        " I can help. I can bring some bread and meds, if you want to, Hassan"

Wednesday, 17 October 2012


                   A young man walked stealthily behind an oblivious lady at the city centre. She was too absorbed with the shops and the merchandise at the market, apparently unaware that a man had been tailing her for the past fifteen minutes. She stopped to ask for the price of a fake sunglasses and the man slipped his hands carefully under her handbag, lifting it away with an utmost skill and precision-she never knew what happened. He was relieved, but as he walked away, his heart was thundering and rampaging inside him , his conscious went against his desires , but it was too late. He had taken the handbag with him.

           The very moment he turned away with a swift pace, a war scream  broke and the market turned into chaos. Somebody spotted him! He broke into a sprint amidst the crowd, yet hundreds of men were galloping behind, and people were blocking his way. No, this is not the way it should be. The plan was perfect, nobody even saw the handbag which he hid in a plastic bag. He took the prize at the most deserted  part of the market, where customers avoid the sunglasses seller who cheats on all occasion. Now he's running for his dear life, all the people around him trying to be heroes themselves, to catch this villain and be  the warrior of the day.

                He kept running and running, as fast as he can, avoiding the tackles and the blocks with certainty. After all he was a district champion in cross country a few years ago, when he was  a teenager with big dreams. He kept running and he saw P Ramlee in the final scenes of Seniman Bujang Lapok which he watched the night before ,with his beloved wife. Sarip Dol had burnt down the house which the three friends resided , together with their fellow neighbours. P Ramlee had overpowered Sarip Dol and had him tied properly. The angry villagers came knocking at the door , all brandishing cangkuls and parangs and ropes, prepared to kill. But then, P Ramlee ordered them to calm down, and gave them the villain with a condition," That this man should not be harmed physically, and that the people take him to the police station".

                 Well, maybe, just maybe , if he's caught, them people will have clemency and just hand him over to the cops. Perhaps. But that was most unlikely, and so he kept running, his lungs bursting for air, his legs strained under him. He cannot give up, he cannot fail.  He had had enough with his wife complaining that their children had been drinking artificial syrup instead of milk for the past two months. Charming woman. He himself was bored of cucumbers and anchovies for dinner every freaking day. What can he do? It wasn't his fault that the factory he worked at went bankrupt all of a sudden. He had been looking for job ever since, without success. And so he kept running.

                One guy who was just behind the thief in the chase was imagining a press conference to laud his heroic actions on this glorious day, he will be crowned a hero who stopped a crime. Imagine his face in the national television, and his proud mom who would be telling this story for years. The one  behind him was figuring out how to word out this historic chase in his Facebook status; how his keen sight had made him able to spot the theft. The other guy beside him apparently had no idea what was going on; he ran because everybody did so.

              The thief tripped upon a magically appearing croc shoes and tumbled over on the pavement. Before he could get up , dozens  of men were towering against his miniscule figure, the handbag was nowhere to be seen. One man took his right arm and pinned him down, and another took his left. A punch landed on his face before he could even struggle. The people are mad, they are angry. Give this thief to the cops and the most he would get is five years behind bars. Freaking courts and judges. The memory of  all the women who died in snatch theft weeks ago are still fresh in their minds; adding much to their overwhelming dissatisfaction with the piecemeal punishment which certainly does not fit the crime.

                He tried to escape, with all the strength left in him but to no avail. Only that moment did he begun to feel ashamed of his acts that day; what would his wife say to him? How disappointed would his mother feel? He thought that the best escape is to just die , but then the end is much more daunting and terrible to behold. What would God say to him then, to this petty criminal, who would like to bring his family to a dignified dinner for just one night? Will he be sent to hell?

              Nay , this is the last time he would steal anything, and he  swore in his heart that he will never do such things ever again, as a falcon punch landed upon his weakening chest, and a kick went up his groin. The heroes of the day pummeled his face with terrible anger and satisfaction, this little piece of crap should had never lived upon this planet. Others were cursing and  yelling swear words at him, that bad villain who deserved all sorts of punishments. Enough, he said in his mind. I would never steal again, he said with his bloody mouth. Return the bag to that poor lady and I promise you I would never steal again. Please..

                 The men did not stop assaulting the thief, not until he had went unconscious for more than ten minutes. They were still kicking his back, until  a pair of cops and an ambulance arrived at the scene. There were no reporters there, much to the disappointment of the heroes.  They rushed the young man to the hospital and provided him aid, although with disgust and unwillingness. The doctors had sworn of the Hippocratic oath  , and they tried their best to revive the crooked shaped of a damaged man. They poked his chest and wiped his blood, supplied him with respiratory aid and put some painkillers in him. He was bleeding from his ears and his mouth, while his ribs were shattered to pieces. The doctors could only watch while he succumbed from internal bleeding, his heart pounding their last few so feebly, and he died there on the hospital bad, all his virtues of a man lost and destroyed, and he was no more..

                The cops retrieved the handbag and took the lady to the station to take her statement. They opened the handbag , surprised and perplexed with their finding. In the bag, there were two tampons , a pack of tissues and hair bands. And nothing else.

What a terrible way to die.

What heroic acts had our society shown that day. Freaking savages.


Saturday, 13 October 2012

Farewell, defender of cats~

                   My father's friend passed away last week. He was my friend too, although I never seemed to realize it. Nobody in this world noticed his presence upon this planet, until the very moment he died. When the news spread  everybody was overwhelmingly sad, because he was indeed a very kind man, whose contributions never seemed to matter before.

                He was a very quiet man, with a humble character, and that should explain his previous state  of being unacknowledged. Nobody cares about him before. 

                 He worked as a contractor, tending to the wood works of houses , the bricks and the foundations.  Among the last works in the last days before his death was two mosques in my place, which he and his men built with eagerness and full spirits. He made a lot of money, but his clothes were never new, and his house was always the small old  house his parents left him. He used his money to support his brothers and their families , while he himself never got married. A very generous man, the highlight of his generosity was when he loaned his money to so many people, all of whom have a tendency of not paying back.

  Why am I telling you this?

             Seeing him with torn shoes and a very worn shirt was a very common view, it became his trademark. But then, nobody cares about him. He was a maverick, yet he was never lonely. He did not have any children, yet he had the biggest family-although not of humans. This guy had almost 40 cats at his house,-or so my uncle told me- he took care of them and fed them every day. No, seriously, he had almost 40 cats. Forty . Those cat lovers out there can officially give this man a  posthumous cat award. Don't misunderstood me my friend, he was not a creepy loner with an obsession with cats-which is so normal with you people. His place was more  like an animal shelter. He would take stray cats home  and feed them, those poor kittens without moms. This is a guy who loves cats, in a society which regards cutting off cats' legs as a fair punishment ,should they steal a fish.

              I don't know if you still take him as a regular non-existent man, because he really was.  Once , his nephew tried to kidnap those beloved kittens and throw them somewhere else. I don't really know why; perhaps the cats took his  motorcycle seat as a scratching mat. This is a common practice in my town, where we 'share' unwanted kittens with neighbouring villages , or just dump them at fish markets. I did this once , when the number of cats exceeded my house's limit of ten, and I am very ashamed with myself-but I can assure you that I placed them in a place where them people adore cats. When his nephew dumped his cats, he was outraged and shocked, and he went to look for the cats , only to be dismayed by the fact that some of them kittens were already dead. God, this is heartbreaking.

               My uncle told me that this man frequented a warong for his lunches, and he would take some fried fish and put them in his shirt's front pocket. He brought those fried fish home and fed his cats.  It was weird enough for hard labourers who strived under the heat of the day, doing the harshest  of works, to have an affection with cats, and to put fried fish in your pockets for them is like super odd.

         His friends took to a liking to tease him about his simplicity-an extreme simplicity. He rode an old bike, wore old shirts , while he was never too old himself.  This is an age where the government gives rebates for smartphones, but he never felt a necessity to own even a simple brick phone, until my uncle bought him one, for ease and communication's sake. I mean, what do you do if you have a  lot of money? The law of marginal utility stated that we would spend and consume ,pilfer and drink, until we reach the point of the least satisfaction-which seems non-existent. Yet the wonders of this world never seemed to fascinate him, and he remained simple with his family of cats.

                We have a congregation in my place, where men and women gather for religious activities, charity and gotong-royongs   . Them people are very active and passionate with their works at the local mosque, and they are the strongmen who worked for PAS (Parti Islam Se-Malaysia) without any pay, all sincere and true to their hearts. This resulted in a victory in the recent election, after all the hard work, night and day. We never noticed that this man was always there; at every gathering and venues, to offer a helping hand and to volunteer, as he was always quiet ,and he kept to himself. We never noticed this , until the moment we saw his face at the graveyard.

                He died last Saturday, after experiencing chest pains at work. He was sent to the hospital, and passed away a few hours later. He left without burdening  anyone to take care of him in his sick bed-alone as always.  He even rejected offers to send him to the hospital by his colleagues, in fear of being a nuisance. His death was so quick and easy, unlike the chinese guy who had his stomach burst open on the road this morning. That left me wondering ; why did good men die so early?

               This man left almost forty orphaned cats and an old house. Farewell, good sir,defender of cats and children alike; May Allah bless you and      your soul, and may He grant you the blessings of Jannah.

Sunday, 7 October 2012

The Budget and thy money, monsieurs~

           There's nothing to be regarded as chronic materialistic disorder when the society talks about the budget. The budget is about money, and money is used to live, to sustain ourselves and buy things we like, nothing like having fun for every second of your life. Economists tend to be offended if you accuse them of being materialistic and profit-motivated, because even mosques, schools and homes are made with money.  If you can find a way in which you can fight wars and bomb imperialists with  free dirt and free home-made cabbages, then go on and be a skeptic all over again.

                         There are a lot of incentives given by the government in the budget. A lot. I have to borrow one academician's phrase; there's the good , the bad and the ugly. The introduction of insurance schemes and protection plans for small traders and uniformed officers is indeed a genius, as these people are those exposed to various risks and danger of losing their income. It provides support should these group of people fall sick and unable to run their daily errands. However, I found it rather disappointing that the budget does not include initiatives or protection for workers in the private sector who lose their jobs in event of recession and whatsoever. The private sector comprises of a bigger group of income, at 3.2 million strongmen,  compared to small traders, fishermen and the armed forces, at 600000, 129622, and 124000 respectively.

                We need to agree that the budget is rather fair to the people, what with the various schemes for training and skills, support for SMEs and innovation, and the decrease of taxation in various industries that will allow them to grow stronger with a lower cost of production. The expansion of such industries will open up more jobs for graduates, primarily in the gargantuan oil and gas firms . People need to know that economic advisors and accountants formed  the basis of the budget, not the screwed up politicians and Najib himself. He ain't know nothing about economics, seriously. This is the good part of the budget, although we need to consider the fact that there are too many discrepancies and distortions when it comes to the distribution of the said budget-corruption at its finest.

         Some say that the budget is indeed an election-oriented budget. There is no point denying, is there? The fact that the election is looming close, and the people hate Najib to his guts reiterates the idea that the budget is nothing more than an indirect mass bribe. All the one-off payment are short-termed and short-lived life support-wait, it isn't supportive at all. I have the urge to vomit every time BR1M ads appear on tv - it is as if the 500 ringgit revolutionize lifestyle, cures cancer and give apartments to the homeless. So freaking pathetic. I agree that giving one-off payments to the citizens gives a  stronger domestic demand, like the ones the Taiwanese government did during the previous recession, but  we need a higher fixed income, not just sweets that last less than a day. The income of the middle income group had been stagnant for the past two decades, while the price of goods increased significantly.

            Then there's the smart phone rebate. What the fish is that for? The targeted group of 21 to 30 year olds are obviously voters- the bigger portion of them- , comprising of numerous  young men and women who aren't inclined to any political ideology-or don't even care  about the maelstrom of political stormshit that is happening. This is the legalized form of election bribery. The profit goes straight to smart phone vendors, and network providers ,or should we name here-cronies?  They can give rebates for smart phones, but not for education, seriously?

                 These one-off payments, including those given to early army retirees aren't gonna benefit the people in the long run. It benefits the government in the short run-the election.

         The budget also reintroduces various subsidies, one of them for the paddy and rice industry. Them  farmers are never getting higher income from the subsidies, as BERNAS ,who acts as a monopolist gets the biggest portion of it. The problem with the budget is that it is superficially good, but in reality the wealth goes to a designated group of elites. Reduction of subsidies for sugar is not going to reduce consumption. Ever. They are like cigarettes, non-elastic  demand from us Malaysians. So why reduce it?  

            We were also expecting the long-anticipated cut in the outrageous tax for imported cars, but nay, never . Less can be said about PTPTN, which the government only proposed incentives for the repayment of loans, nothing about cheaper education or tuition fees. They proposed a travesty of themselves-20 percent discount for one-off repayment of loans. Now, who the hell pays student loans once and for all? Seriously?

               Some people said that we are getting more and more materialistic , by the way the budget offers such small trinkets, and also the PR budget, which is much of the same thing, but I don't agree. Is it materialistic that the people demands for higher disposable income, to provide for their families? I don't think so. Is it materialistic that people support subsidies to gas and cheaper food prices, so they can spend more upon education and family entertainment?

           The reason of the return of Europeans to religious concerns after the industrial revolution is that they don't have to worry about their income anymore. This concerns the pre economic breakdown period, obviously. We can't expect to reduce crime rates , if the people doesn't have enough money to eat. We cannot expect people to start coming to mosques and enlighten themselves when they have to work from dawn to dusk to sustain their families. There is a period of religious revival in the welfare states of Europe, because they seriously do not have to worry about various debts , student loans and lousy leaders. They can concentrate more upon how they pray ,and how to be good people, perhaps?

                   I have to stress out that the budget is somewhat fair , if we exclude those ridiculously obvious bribes. The problem is the execution part of the plan. The original blueprint is outstanding, really, but the way the wealth goes to cronies, family members of the cow groups, monopolists and  fellow politicians , explain the reality that the budget is nothing more than empty words.


Sunday, 23 September 2012

Economists ; Shut Up~

              I went to a student conference recently and found out how small was my world. My thought was narrowly formed by the rigid textbooks which recommends parochial one-sided views upon economic policies. I do agree that the writers do give opposite arguments for every economic issue, but one point or another is always given more weightage , stressed upon and preferred. It was unacceptable for me at first to discover how different was other people's thoughts, and they do not make sense at all.

              We were discussing about the National Automotive Policy in the economic council. Imported cars were taxed up to 300 percent the original price. A Mercedes at at a hundred thousand ringgit in London is priced at three hundred thousand here.  It is that way for  Nissan, Toyota, Chevrolet and Honda. I explained that as a middle-income nation, with 60 percent of the population having a monthly income of less than 3 thousand, the people have to pay one third of their wages for cars alone. That is a lot of money. If they can pay less for cars, then the people would have more income at their disposal. The money can and should be used to sponsor education for the children, better nutrition , and perhaps a better house. Tax revenue of 8.1 billion from  cars and APs  will then be gone, but it is not lost. The people have more disposable income, and this adds strength to domestic demand.

                I thought that I would be receiving major support, but I was wrong. This is the general opinion;

1. Malaysians can afford to pay the tax up to 300% , as there are a lot of BMWs and Mercs on the road.

2. The loss of tax revenue is too big and unsustainable.

3. Cheaper cars will go against the motives of public transportation, and will incur more pollution.

               They tend to view this argument from a rich man's point of view, because, well, they are from rich families. I handle my own expenses alone, drive my own cars and I know how costly is the price of fuel, plus the road taxes, and there are no BMWs in my village. Our backgrounds really influence  the way we view things. They never felt the overwhelming cost, because they are the 1%.

           Malaysians can't afford the excessive amount of taxation. It is ridiculously high, taking one third of their income. The tax is not lost, it is reproduced in another manner; disposable income is higher. Our public transportation sucks, never efficient and causes terrible mental stress and loss of time, and it is nowhere near sustaining the public needs.

                Then we spoke about subsidies. Pertaining subsidy rationalization , they wholeheartedly believe that subsidy should be reduced. Malaysians are too pampered, they said, We people are a rich bunch , they said.  It seems that living in a big house with four cars really change the way you view the world. They somehow managed to stereotype Malaysians as people who cannot live without air conditioners, and everyone drives expensive cars. We were somewhat ignorant to the fact that the people's average income had stagnated for the past two decades, and is not proportional to the rate of inflation.

             Reducing subsidies for fuel will spark a cost-push inflation, price of goods will rise automatically, and only the top 1% of the income group can actually sustain themselves. I mean, seriously, this is basic economics, a fixed textbook theory, can't they see it to that point?

          Those men in the ministries who proposed for subsidy rationalization are the 1% percent themselves; they are the elites, they do not speak for the poor. Economists are people with high income who are unable to form a perspective from a regular citizens' point of view.

"And what Allah restored to His Messenger from the people of the towns - it is for Allah and for the Messenger and for [his] near relatives and orphans and the [stranded] traveler - so that it will not be a perpetual distribution among the rich from among you. And whatever the Messenger has given you - take; and what he has forbidden you - refrain from. And fear Allah ; indeed, Allah is severe in penalty." ( Al-Hasyr, 7)

          We people don't care if the nation have an outstanding budget surplus or a behemoth GDP, they don't make sense at all to us. 5 percent growth or a high competitiveness rank have nothing to do with our lives, so them economists can either shut up or say something closer , more significant to the lives of citizens. I mean, who cares if the current interest rate is 3 percent? Why would that matter?  The things that matter is the prices of sugar and salt, gas and cars. Or the fact that more than 900 billion of illegal money had been robbed away from this country from 2000 to 2008; they should focus upon that fact rather than asking the people to pay more, 'be thankful', sacrifice for a greater good, or whatever terms  those government bloodsuckers use nowadays.

      Rather than introducing GST and reducing subsidies, the government should really curb the overwhelming corruption, or else they must go down.

          I learned one thing that is vital from Economics; the Malaysian government is full of crap.


Saturday, 8 September 2012

Say Sorry~

           I love watching my two little cousins play with each other, because they are the most cutest and loveliest creatures I have ever seen. Not being cheesy, but just the sight of the tiny eyes and chubby hands makes my heart grow fond. I feel a sweet serendipity, a peace like no other whenever I hear their voices . It is a pleasure to behold, unlike any other, when you hold them in your hands and make them say words they don't understand. All the pain , fatigue and stress in me go missing for a while, and I am the happiest person on earth.

               She would always quarrel with her brother for the most trivial things; ants, slippers, Ultraman and teddy bears; in tears and screaming unintelligible words-she speaks Spanish by the way-but seconds later they would be playing together again. As if nothing had happened. Kids always forgive and forget, no matter what you did to them . If only that the world adopt such policy, there would be an eternal peace.

          Kids' fights are somewhat funny and simply short, it always ends with both of them coming to you with teary eyes and making reports about the other , demanding for a justice, and that's that, they would be playing again soon . But I like to remind you that the same thing does not happen when adults quarrel.

           Fights among adults are among the most ugliest thing that ever happened upon this planet. They exchange cruel remarks and curse words that one can never imagine. It is detrimental to everybody, a mental torture, verbal abuse, depressing for kids who are taking exams-seriously. Nobody likes to see people quarrel . Nobody, ever, likes to hear any curse words and verbal discontentment. Nobody in this world would ever want to see any two sane people yappering and slapping each other like retards, savages of the jungle, apes of the Amazon, two dominant gorillas, greedy pigs and hungry ducks. No. One. Ever.

           Grow up. Seriously.

            There is a limit to everything we do upon this planet. We cannot eat too much food. We cannot sleep for too long. There's a limit to exercise, studies and love. There is also an age limit when your fights are no more kids' fights, when it is freaking immature, when such things should stop forever. It is very not cute.

           I was once a very angry person. I was mad at everything that can move. I slapped a close friend and scolded my teacher alive. I even feared myself for I was also angry at myself. There were reasons for that, but let's not talk about it. Every prefect in school received my piece of mind with the utmost discontent, and I used morning speeches in the assembly to scold everybody. Sorry for that. It was eons ago, and I went past that craziness. I learnt how to forgive everybody.  I discovered a way to look someone in the eye , forget everything he did and make amends.

                I found a way to forgive , and to say sorry, even for things you did not do. I realized that winning is not important at all , you have to admit that you are wrong in some arguments for the sake of peace. Even if you are so obviously right, you have to give in at times. I learnt to forgive myself, and that is indeed a blessing.

             If you are over-aged, and you quarrel for trivial things like kids do, here are the things that you must follow;

 1.  You must not get married. Who would want to marry someone who argues about socks? That would be one hell of a marriage.

2.   Don't go near kids, EVER. Adult's fights cause trauma among children, creating an unhealthy picture of how adults should behave in their young minds. Be ashamed of yourselves.

3.   Never try to lead some group or plan some activities. You are the worst leader on earth.

4. Learn to forgive. What do you get from a continuous hate and anger , other than stress and tension? Learn to forgive. It is always a million times better to forgive than to despise.
Learn to forgive. Forgive me. Forgive yourself. Forgive everyone.

5. Try not to retaliate. When someone curses you, don't slap him in the face. Don't curse him back. Just smile , and wave , like good penguins. Say nothing. That ends everything, and why shouldn't it do so? If someone hits you, just hold back or just run away.

         The strongest person is not the buffest guy, remember? Nabi Muhammad pbuh taught us that the strongest person is the one who defeats his anger.

            What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Seriously.

6. Say sorry. Say SORRY. It is just one word. Just one word. You lose nothing by saying it. It takes less than a second to word it out, minimum facial contractions, and a bit of air. Just say sorry, you arrogant, egoistic ,narcissistic human. Sorry for that. SAY SORRY. LOSE NOTHING.

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry, and sorry again. Seriously, just say it. Even if you are right. Even if they are wrong . SAY SORRY.

          When you forgive someone, you will feel a great peace and serenity in your hearts. I promise you that.  People kill to feel that kind of peace , seriously.  It is as if you have a burden weighing 20 tons on your shoulders being lifted away. Say sorry, and you would be the humblest man. There is nothing wrong to say sorry, but there is always something wrong when you fight back.

           There are times when you really should be angry-at times when a man who committed statutory rape gets nothing for that crime-for example, you can shoot the judge or bomb the court.

       But most of the times, you should never ever ever ever be angry.

"Allah does not charge a soul except [with that within] its capacity. It will have [the consequence of] what [good] it has gained, and it will bear [the consequence of] what [evil] it has earned. "Our Lord, do not impose blame upon us if we have forgotten or erred. Our Lord, and lay not upon us a burden like that which You laid upon those before us. Our Lord, and burden us not with that which we have no ability to bear. And pardon us; and forgive us; and have mercy upon us. You are our protector, so give us victory over the disbelieving people."
(AL-Baqarah, 286)

Grow up, seriously.

Wednesday, 5 September 2012


                 "That's one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind."
    -Neil Armstrong

                   We went to the moon. Not exactly 'we', but that kinda does it. Curiosity reached Mars before any Martian invades our planet with big lasers and a droid army. The development of the technological array had surpassed mere imagination and it keeps progressing.  Our achievements had transgressed the times before us , and so we are proud obstreperous creatures , vociferous in new ideas and progressions.

          We are so entrenched with the idea of progression that once people proposed that we are originally monkeys; primates; to show how much we really progressed.  Well, that is seriously unnecessary. I was born human, without any monkiness in me.

you think this is a kind of a game?

               While we are being so garrulously pronounced  about such advances in the modern history, there's an irrevocable fact that we must ponder ; the turbulent progressiveness does not apply to everybody. There are people out there who chooses a sedentary lifestyle and a persistent  parochial mind setting. People are reluctant to making changes due to culture boundaries and all sorts of hindrances.

        But that's fine, really. Who cares if they don't wanna progress anyway. We have nothing to lose, and instead we gain a more rewarding age of consumerism. People don't wanna attain goods by themselves, and so we have a permanent  demand for everything, ranging from socks to  potato chips. The thing that is puzzling is the egregious existence of people who choose to progress backwards; regress; stuck in reverse. We are moving forward, whatever speed or ways and vagaries, but them people are moving backwards.

               We want to build skyscrapers, and these men choose to live in straw huts and caves-sort of. The nation is becoming more liberally democratic, more freedom in speech and lesser information boundaries, but these men choose to oppose that. This is called decivilization .


            These groups of men are devolving into monkeys themselves; while we are occupied with using appropriate words and to cater to everybody's sensitivity, these men understand no language and see no reason. At least monkeys can accept orders when trained and run away when being chased, but them people are oblivious to standard human communication.

serious monkeys man

              We are living in a democratic country, where everybody should be given freedom of speech and electoral rights as a citizen. Races other than Malays are not secondary, second class or whatever crap these people say. We are of equal rights and friends of all times, citizens of the freaking world. We are not barbarians who kill people for fun.  

            Monkeys love  mischief and disorder, and I discovered this mischievous fact after years of having those apes stealing rambutans from my backyard to the point of an extreme land takeover by the monkeys. It was brutal, a destructive occupation.  Those group of men, in the other hand sabotages every programme that the opposition runs.

                   There was a butt-dance in front of Ambiga's house a few months ago. They sent a beautifully decorated shit-shaped cake to Lim Guan Eng. It was a delicious cake with the shape of poop. Yep, that's true. And then there were people who step on potraits of leaders, pee on it and stuff, without any obvious reasons. We are proud savage people indeed.


           They are old men with kids and grandkids. How fascinating is it for us to see grandpa do  a butt-dance?

                  Wisdom grows with age, but for these men, it appears that wisdom is inversely proportional to age. Who have the guts to disturb religious preaches in mosques by hurling slippers and stones, switching off the lights, yells and curse words, other than uncivilized 


Friday, 31 August 2012

Inferiority Complex

           I remembered the times when I was a skinny little introvert stuck with an infinite flu. I had problems getting to know everybody, to get close to anyone. It seemed terribly hard for me to show affection for anybody, and I ended up playing alone. It was kinda sad; my seven sisters and I, we made a wonderfully terrible team. I got bullied at school several times; beaten to pieces and mocked like the most hated kid in school.

                 But that's fine; I said to myself. I did not care about how many times they punch me and kick my butt, my solitary games were enough to make me happy. I had a strange obsession with myself; I believed that I am awesome. Teachers liked to tease me for I was always looking unkempt and messy; but meh, I'm awesome. It was a chronic narcissistic disorder. I fell in love with myself, sort of. I would stand in front of mirrors and say: " God, I'm perfect".

             A narcissistic disorder is sick and wrong. Assuming oneself is super awesome induces hyper-confidence and tends  to irk everybody else, especially if you are a maladroit kid with a cantankerous behavior. Narcissism makes you feel good even if your exam results are ineffably bad. Hyper-optimism, I guess. But at least being narcissistic is better than having inferiority complex.

               Inferiority complex is ubiquitous, too many people have that. They are apathetic to themselves and anybody else because of their feeling of inferiority. Out of place, incongruous. Kids who got bad results in exams can't speak up to a straight-A guy. Can't even walk beside them . Can't even look 'em in the eye. This is wrong. Seriously.

             Drivers and cooks feel that they can't be in a group with doctors and bankers. Security guards are always angry because they feel stupid. Well, I like to tell you how wrong that is.

"Say, "Each works according to his manner, but your Lord is most knowing of who is best guided in way." (Al-Isra; 84)

                 Every man and woman is designated to  do a certain job according to his skills. Should everyone becomes an engineer, who's gonna make delicious banana fries and  heavenly chocolates? My God, I can't imagine that. Doctors can't fix cars. Doctors can't sing. Doctors can't make good cookies. They got no time for that. Doctors' lives suck, even though their contributions are too many. There's really nothing to be so proud of being a doctor. Seriously.

                I heard a story once about eight siblings. 7 of them became doctors, bankers and professors, but the other one didn't even finish school. He blatantly assumed that he was born stupid, and therefore he felt inferior and useless. His siblings were all abroad and busy with their lives , rich and proud, but this guy stayed in the village. But then, their parents grew old and sickly, and this so-called uneducated guy took care of his parents until the very end , while his siblings were too busy even to make a phone call. He gets the biggest share in his deeds, better than the doctors and engineers. There is a reason for you being designated to a certain job.

                     The problem with having an inferiority complex is that you feel that you will fail at every occasion, and you cannot voice your hearts out. Nobody ever can claim that he is better than anybody else, and so nobody should feel inferior. Even janitors and toilet cleaners should be proud of their job-a clean work with an income halalan toyyiba, as long as you don't sell drugs and rape kids for fun.

                    I don't know what the world would be without teachers. I will never ride a car again without mechanics. Electricians light up my house and made it bright and colourful; doctors can go away, they can't even fix a light bulb. Whatever is your profession you should feel proud with it, inferiority brings you nowhere and makes me angry.

                  The next time we organize a job fair at school, you poor inferior people should grow a pair and contribute. Be proud of yourselves and join us, or your moms should regret having such pathetic children. We need you more than engineers and doctors, they are useless in various sorts of thing. They are imperfect and terribly busy, but you are different. You are simply awesome, and I love you so much for being so awesome. Be done with it. Only Allah knows whose deeds are the best-probably not doctors.