I just got back from a really busy, hectic, holiday. Seriously, I have never been this active during any previous holiday season. I suppose it is a good thing, although, in retrospect, there are many things that I was supposed to do but failed to-namely, applying for University in the States. I did initially intend to use this semester break to apply, but with all the happenings and trips that came about, it was almost impossible to find time to do much else. Anyway, the holidays proved to be something of a mixed bag. I do not really know exactly where to start because there is just so much to talk about, so I will just go with the spur of the moment.


Hmmm.... this just occurred to me. I will list down the activities and events that took place this past month by order of impact on a personal level-as in, which ones had the greatest significance to me. Here goes:

1. R.AGE - I have been pondering the idea of becoming more active in the world or journalism and editorials. The more I think about it, it seems like a good idea. Writing articles does give me the chance to talk about the issues and topics that concern and interest me, and I have to admit that I do not really find a lot that is unappealing about journalism. Well, independent journalism, anyway. A big reason for this has been R.AGE, the editorial that is published specifically for the higher education student body by local newspaper giant, STAR. By good fortune, I have been able to become an active participant in several activities conducted by the R.AGE staff. My new-found interest in photography was sparked off by a workshop that I participated conducted by R.AGE, after all. I have also had several other opportunities to make a mark in the editorial, and I have to say that the experience has been nothing short of thoroughly enjoyable. I would not mind delving even further at all.

2. Hometown blues- I made some very uncomfortable and saddening discoveries these past few weeks about my relationship with the rest of my 'blood' kin. For most people, family is
something they treasure more than anything in the world, and they would sacrifice anything for their blood. When people go for family reunions and such, they usually feel as though they are coming home to a place where they truly belong. I went back to my hometown a couple of weeks back. A huge number of my family on my mother's side had gathered there as well, for a reunion of sorts. I usually enjoy going back to my childhood home. The place has a special meaning to me. It is not only physically beautiful with its lush and majestic geography, but the fact that I spent my childhood there has made the place something of a safe haven for me. However, when I went back for that reunion, I immediately realized that things were no longer the same. I still loved the place that remained. But it no longer felt like home. It was not the place, but the people. That trip revealed to me with start clarity just how different I had become from the rest of my relatives, so much that we seemed to have opposing views on EVERYTHING (Well, to be honest, it was mostly them talking, me nodding and not bothering to argue). The thing is, I just felt SO isolated and alone, an outcast. I am talking about people who brought me up, whom I used to look up to and respect and love. I still love them, but I no longer feel like I am one of them. Instead, just listening to them talk about their irrational prejudices, their misguided values and beliefs, their frightening racism...it just makes me feel so angry and sad. It was during this time that I realized that, my place is no longer with them...that I had to move on to somewhere new, where my own experiences and knowledge is much more at HOME. I guess this is what it means to grow up and forge your own identity....I just wish it did not have to come at the price of having to lose touch with your heritage. I wish it upon nobody, yet I myself am forced to bear this burden.

3. Ok, that was pretty serious, so I shall bring about something a bit more positive. I went on several pretty good holidays trips. The best one was the trip to Genting Highlands. There are several reasons for this, but the two main ones are a) the other holidays were not quite as good and b) the company. Genting Highlands is this little hilltop resort sort of place, with a theme park, hotel and malls. The place was heavily misted, and it was raining and the conditions were as awful as it could possibly get. If you're wondering why I put this as the best of the trips, I will explain later. The second trip was to Malacca, a historical town down South with my family. This was a decent trip, and I got to see the town at night, which was pretty cool. Then I went on a day trip to this crappy little waterpark in this dump of a place called Pedas for a family day. The reason I liked this trip was because my little niece was part of the group. She makes any trip worthwhile. The last of the holidays,was to Cameron Highlands, another hill resort. Even though it had its good points, this last one was a let-down of epic proportions. All these trips gave me the chance to think about something very important. What is the key to a great holiday? Is it the place? Perhaps, I guess, to a certain extent. For one thing, if it indeed was the place that mattered, then Camerons should have been my favorite and Genting the worst. Camerons was a treasure chest of panorama, beauty, nature and beauty. The place had sweeping, awesome valleys filled with tea plantations and beautiful jungle treks-its beauty was simply unmatched. Yet, for some reason, I did not really enjoy my stay there. So, the place is not the most important thing. Then, I started to consider the key differences between the trips I enjoyed and the ones I did not. To my shock, I realised it was not the place at all that mattered. It was the company. It was who I traveled with. My two favorites by a mile had been the trip to two pathetic places- Genting and Pedas Wet World. Why? Because in the case of Pedas, I went there with someone I really care about and enjoy being with, my five-year old niece. It made me so happy watching her play in the waterslides and floating around a pool on a tube with her, chattering away like a noisy cricket. Surprisingly, I see myself in her more than anyone else, and she respond to me better than anyone else. In the case of Genting, well, again, it was the company. The wonder and sweetness of traveling with a best friend to someplace far and different is something everyone would enjoy, regardless of the destination.
The trip was supposed to include three of us, but even though there were only two, it was still quite nice. Now that I think about it, despite the soggy weather and the rip-off, crappy, food, and the long queues at the rides, there was not a moment of it that I would have wanted to forget. It is so different from what happened in Camerons and Malacca. In both these places, where the natural beauty of the place far outshines the first two, I had a not-so-good time. It hurts me to say his, but I have to be honest. I did not enjoy it because I went to these places with my family. It is not that I do not like my family...it is the opposite, actually. The problem is that my family just does not click together as a unit very well.
We do not hate each other, and we are very supportive and loving. It is just that all four of us are just so damn different from each other that we simply cannot spend too much time together without quarrelling. I have no idea how we ended up like this. We are not dysfunctional, just extremely incompatible, which is a hilarious thing to say about a family. I honestly would love to be able to go on trips with my family and have fun, but seeing things as they are, I doubt that it is going to be remotely possible. Maybe, in the future, when I have my own family, I can come back and start fresh, as a different person, with my current family. I don't know...maybe it is just simply the nature in which all things happen. Children moving on, people changing.....Alright, then, I think I have written quite a lot for today. It covers the important stuff I think. Oh, and how could I forget. KING KONG ROCKS and so does PETER JACKSON!!!
Till next time.

Illegal Immigrants

We use this term so easily…so naturally. That is how we have been taught to think. Have we ever stopped to consider exactly what it means? Not just on the surface level, but also the implications and the connotations of the term ‘illegal immigrants’. Just take a second to think about it. Who comes to mind when the term ‘immigrant’ is mentioned? Who comes to mind when the term ‘illegal immigrant’ is mentioned? I am pretty sure that each of us has a certain kind of mental perception of an illegal immigrant.

Of course, it is important to note that for people from different states and countries, the term means different things. The basic premise or the so-called ‘definition’ of illegal immigrant is someone who is somewhere they are not supposed to be in without proper legal documentation. In reality, this term carries a lot more meanings. If you think about it, who on earth is illegal? Why do we have the right to decide whether another person has the permission to stay somewhere or be somewhere? An illegal immigrant in America, for example, could include anyone from a poor, innocent, female Hispanic maid without a permit to a full blow terrorist. It does not seem to matter… they are both treated the same; as illegal immigrants.

In Malaysia, the government uses its biggest weapon, the media, to paint a really ugly image of illegal immigrants. In Malaysia, the so-called illegal immigrants are the poor, desperate labor workers from Indonesia, Thailand, Philippines and Bangladesh, among others. They come here to this ‘wonderful’ country, leaving their families, dignity, and pride behind in the hopes of finding a job that can help them and their families survive. They need to do this because the situation in their own countries renders them incapable of making a living, either because they are being persecuted in the name of ethnic cleansing (The Rohingyas of Burma) or they are simply the victims of tragedy (Aceh). The saddest part is that these people cannot afford the proper legal way to come here, because of the high costs of getting documents and flight tickets and so they are forced to put their fate in the hands of underground syndicates to carry them to Malaysia. These immigrants, as you can see, are not criminals… they are victims.

Yet, how do we treat them? We are immigrants ourselves. Yet, we treat our own brothers and sisters who immigrate to Malaysia in search of hope in the same manner we treat rats and vermin. We round them up, wherever we can find them, assemble them in the streets, lock them up, put them away in detention camps and then abuse them before shipping them back. Sounds horrible? Well, that is exactly what our wonderful authorities do. For evidence, just look up for information on the Semenyih detention camps, repatriation, mass deportations and the sad case of Mangal Bahadur Gurung of Nepal. You will see that I am not pulling your legs.

You might argue that illegal immigrants are the cause of a lot of social problems; maids kidnapping children, workers raping local women, prostitution… bla bla bla. Ever notice that the only agents that tells us all these stories are the local papers and news? The very agents that are the fingers of the government? The truth is this; illegal immigrants in Malaysia, have the lowest crime rate among all the other races. They also happen to be the main driving force behind the economy due to manual labor in plantations and so on. The above-mentioned problems, such as prostitution, are not the fault of the immigrants. THEY ARE VICTIMS! They are often innocent young girls who are kidnapped from their countries by irresponsible individuals who force them to work in brothels and make a large profit out of it. Yet, who is it that we see in the papers? We see the girls being hounded out by police officers who intimidate and humiliate them even further. We do not see photos of the ring leaders being busted and the girls being freed and protected. We see the girls being arrested, put in lock-ups and forced to undergo ‘strip-squats’!

This is the truth, ladies and gentlemen, of how we Proud, Dignified, Wonderful Malaysians treat our poor, desperate neighbors who come to our country seeking hope and survival. This is what it means to be Malaysian. Be VERY PROUD OF IT!!!!

MALAYSIA BOLEH !!!!

“Heck,” Atticus’s back was turned. “If this thing’s hushed up, it’ll be a simple denial to Jem of the way I’ve tried to raise him. Sometimes I think I’m a total failure as a parent, but I’m all they’ve got. Before Jem looks at anyone else he looks at me, and I’ve tried to live so I can look squarely back at him… If I connived at something like this, frankly I couldn’t meet his eye, and the day I can’t do that I’ll know I’ve lost him. I don’t want to lose him and Scout, because they’re all I’ve got.”

Moral conflicts are often impossible to reconcile. For most of us, pragmatism is the seemingly appropriate option. We would rather take the easy, profitable way out rather than do what is ultimately right. Most of us would rather suffer the trials of our conscience than the trials of society. This does not apply to Atticus Finch, a man whose moral principles are so strong that he will not let anything budge him from doing what is right, regardless of the consequences. The statement above reveals the strength of his beliefs in bringing up his children; so much so that he does not want to hide what he thought was the truth of what happened to Jem and Scout as well as the murder of Bob Ewell.

Is a man like Atticus Finch a member of a rare and dying breed of people? How many individuals in our society today have the sort of courage and backbone to stand up against what they know to be wrong and defend what is right at all costs? How many of us, on the other hand, would rather just turn a blind eye towards the many wrongs in our world, just to maintain our own secure comforts? It seems as if most of us would rather keep our own selfish pleasures, even if those luxuries come at the cost of someone else’s suffering. In the case of To Kill a Mockingbird, it was the white society that was enjoying the comforts provided to them by the subjugation of the blacks.

To some of us, Atticus Finch would seem to be an irrational idiot or a romantic idealist. To others, he is a hero and a champion. The beauty of Atticus is that to him, it never really mattered what others thought of him, except his children and himself. He found contentment and happiness from the simple knowledge that he lived his life according to good conscience, the knowledge that his children would always be able to look to him for guidance and also the knowledge that he had tried his hardest to do some good in the world. The last part was epitomized by his defense of Tom Robinson and his championing of the black community. Ultimately, he found satisfaction in his way of life and would have been able to sleep easy, so what right do any of us have to judge him? How many of us can say the same thing about ourselves, looking at the way we live? We are aware of so many evils in our society yet we refuse to make a stand? Can we ever achieve any amount of satisfaction and contentment in the way we live?

When it comes to pioneering of new ideas, fresh innovations and authenticity, Americans, regardless of validity, consider themselves to be on the top of the list. Fiercely proud and protective of their way of life, Americans value the ideals and principles that they feel is distinctively theirs, defined succinctly as the American Dream. The Dream emphasizes individualism, ambition, capitalism, productivity, freedom and democracy- the very keystones of American society. Every American individual who wishes to find success would do well to remember and adhere to these values; every American author who wishes to hold the right to be called an ‘American author’ would do well to harp on those time-honored American ideals. Such is the importance of the American Dream. Such is the importance of Mark Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

Why did Hemingway claim Huck Finn to be the most important of all American novels? Why is there so much relevance and controversy attached to this book, essentially a tale of freedom? The answer is this; it is a book about freedom on American soil. The connotations of this are plentiful. Huckleberry Finn is the narrative version of the pioneering spirit of Americans; the discovery of new frontiers and the breakdown of the old and the obsolete. It is also a story of equality and camaraderie- two things that are highly valued among Americans yet, at the same time, in direct contradiction to the original American values of individualism and capitalism.

One of the first major importances of this novel to Americans is the fact that it is set in America. It is one of the first pillars of American literature to have truthfully and realistically depicted America as America, a sign of the rising pride among the citizens of that great nation. Twain’s use of local dialects and accent, together with the various nuances and eccentricities of the different classes of American society, is a far cry from the works of his predecessors, whose major interest seemed to be not on American life, but on those of Europe. Twain did not look further than his own home on the Mississippi for inspiration; he did not feel the need to do so. For Mark Twain, life on American soil was just as fascinating and intriguing as anywhere else. This pioneering attitude of the author sets the tone for most other American writers that followed.

The same goes for the theme of freedom and equality that is so prominent in the book. Whether it is Huck trying to escape the shackles of civilization or Jim trying to escape the shackles of slavery, the key issue here is the importance of freedom to Americans. Twain highlights the wonders and pleasures of living a simple life on a raft, free from the fetters of ‘sivilisation’. On a deeper level, the book depicts the struggle among the Americans to free themselves from the old social norms of aristocracy and discrimination and the forging of their own identity as a free and democratic society, without the irrational rules and stratifications common at that time.

The reason Huck Finn is so highly important to Americans is plain to see. No other book so ‘accurately’ captures the American spirit. It is a literary work that still remains important and will do so for a long time to come, so much so that it has become an American institution.

Considered by many as the first American poet, Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672) represents more than just another echelon of American literature. Her works may have very well been the starting point of feminism in America and the first step in the long road to the emancipation of women. Bradstreet wrote with considerable restrain, obviously in fear of the prejudiced reactions of her society towards women who display intellectual pursuits. However, wherever she exchanged directness with caution, she did so by infusing a huge amount of sarcastic wit and subtle fury, a testament to her true feelings about certain issues.

In “The Tenth Muse Lately Sprung Up in America, by a Gentlewoman of Those Parts” (1650), Bradstreet showcased some of her sharpest and most biting criticism towards societal norms concerning women. The fifth stanza sheds ample light on the way people of those times tended to look down upon female acts of intellect;

“For such despite they cast on female wits,

If what I do prove well, it won’t advance,

They’ll say its stol’n, or else it was by chance” (Bradstreet, 5)

These lines suggest a personal edge to her anger. There may have been incidents in her life where she had been scorned or apprehended for her endeavors in the creative field. Bradstreet showed very little restrain in these lines, preferring to hit at the heart of the problem, which proves that she herself was very frustrated at being shackled because she was a woman.

The following lines, also from “The Tenth Muse”, set the tone for the coming struggle for emancipation;

“Men can do best, and women know it well,

Preeminence in all and each is yours,

Yet grant some small acknowledgment of ours.” (Bradstreet, 7)

Although seemingly contradictory and un-feministic at first, the above lines actually are very subtle and cunning seeds of discontent that Bradstreet was trying to sow among members of society, especially young women. She chose to feed upon the lack of appreciation that women were suffering from while at the same time aiming to instill a sense of guilt among prejudiced individuals who viewed women as an inferior class.

Anne Bradstreet’s cautious and well-thought out approach to dealing with gender discrimination in the Puritan times proved to be an important stepping stone for the emancipation movement in America. She successfully avoided the trap of being branded an outcast or deviant while still generating enough food for thought that inspired feminism.

Two Perfect Reasons To Turn Gay

I am a huge football fan, HUGE. And no, I ain't a homosexual. In fact, I'm about as straight as it gets. Not that I'm homophobic...no, as a matter of fact, I am totally for gay peoples' emancipation. If ever I had a reason (or two) to turn gay, football has given me two.
Jamie Carragher and Steven Gerrard.
It hardly gets better than these two. Both have, at one time or another, been nicknamed Mr. Liverpool. They are the foundations of the current team; the captains, leaders in so many ways. Each one epitomises the undying spirit of a legendary club filled with history and glory and pride. Neither of these two know the meaning of defeat or giving up and will run themselves to the ground for the sake of their beloved club. Commitment and loyalty does not get better than this.A good team is one that works well together; one of the most important things to achieve this cohesion is a strong, inspirational leader, a captain. Liverpool FC has been captained by many famous names; Dalglish, Thompson, Hyypia...and now Steven Gerrard. In my opinion, the greatest player in the world at the moment is the Liverpool captain, regardless of what they say of Ronaldinho. In a time when most big-name players leave their initial clubs to other clubs for the sake of better pay, Gerrard, despite enormous pressure and temptations, stayed put and declared that he could never leave his beloved hometown club. He even offered to give up the captain's armband, but his teammates and manager told him firmly to keep it where it is; on his capable and ever-willing shoulder. Every time that he scores, he goes to celebrate with the fans. More than scoring himself, he loves to help his teammates do so, typified by his painstaking efforts to help Peter Crouch break his scoring duct. The Ultimate Captain and the Ultimate Player.

Another thing that any good team needs is a backbone, a defense that is consistent, reliable... unbreakable. Jamie Carragher is all of these and then some. He is Liverpool through and through, and no other club would bother trying to sign him because they know he would never ever think of leaving. Liverpool's Player of The Season last time out, Carra was the main reason for Liverpool's success in the Champions League, as Gerrard himself is quick to point out. Solid in defense, together with his immaculate and excellent partner Sami Hyypia, Carra has been a rock in the face of some of Europe's finest attacks; Juventus, Chelsea, and Milan all found fell to dust at his Scouser feet.

This is why I keep thinking, if ever I turned gay, then these two would be the main reasons for it. As it is, I already consider them my favorite footballers in the world.

We took this photo in a park next to this shopping complex called One Utama. It is not anything special, but the shot came out really colourful and bright, and I saw a chance to play around with it and bring out the bright vibes in it. Didn't turn out too bad, though some might find it a little garish.

Shadow shot...
This shot was taken during a trip to Batu Caves, Kuala Lumpur. For those who might not know, Batu Caves is a holy site for Hindus in Malaysia, and during a three day festival in February each year, thousands flock to the hill, where they ascend a 2000-tier staircase up to a network of enormous caves, within which is located a temple.
This particular shot was taken at ground level. There were several new temples under construction in the vicinity and this was one of them, situated at the outskirts. The monument had steps leading up to the altar area and we snapped this particular shot standing against a backdrop of streetlights on the steps. The shadows are of my friends and I. I am the one snapping the photo. heh.

Baby Shash... My wonderful little pocket-dynamite of a niece

I got my heartbroken.... Nah... Just foolin around at Coffee Bean