Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Tuesday, June 21, 2011


The semester, my undergrad life. New beginnings, continuations, whichever way I want my loved ones there each day. God willing..

Sunday, June 12, 2011


...doesnt always put you in the wrong, nor does loyalty prove you the better person. There's always a grey area and if you wanna sleep soundly at night, you've gotta work it out and not let it fester.

Thursday, June 09, 2011

Sunday, June 05, 2011

Roadside food in Istanbul as we trekked along the tramline. Turkey's famous for the coffee, hibiscus tea, gelatine icecreams that don't melt and of course their version of kebab/shaurmas, baklavas and a variety of mouth watering nut-filled sweets... but roadside food always excites me more for some reason :)

Reconstruction at the Hagia Sophia Museum, and below is the God of the Rivers, Poseidon. the fact that these sculptures and archaelogical restorations happen on an everyday basis and the painstaking way in which it is done inspired awe in us, a bunch of twenty something impatients ;)

The Cisterna Basilica has the capacity to store 100,000 tons of water but holds only a few feet of water lining the bottom today. The cistern is surrounded by a firebrick wall with a thickness of 4 metres (13 ft) and coated with a waterproofing mortar. The ceiling is supported by a forest of 336 marble columns. Located in the northwest corner of the cistern, the bases of two columns reuse blocks carved with the visage of Medusa. Tradition has it that the blocks are oriented sideways and inverted in order to negate the power of the Gorgons' gaze, however it is widely thought that they were placed sideways and upside down only to be the proper size to support their columns. (excerpt from wikipedia)

Me with my love for folklore, I'm swayed in the direction of the Gorgon story, though rationally thinking, physics would be a more important factor when considering the force of holding up the ceiling and pure pressure from the mass amount of water that used to be contained here.

My earlier post covered the more popular tourist destinations, these are just the knick knacks that slip in between but I want to remember 20 years down the road from now. This post is severely delayed I know, but I finally got the time to do it today, so here it is.. :)

Wednesday, May 25, 2011


Six years overseas in an institution that has been under the constant scrutiny of the MQA and I’m heading home this summer anyway. I could have opted to take the Kaplan Step-2 and move to the states. At least they have a sense of humour there. Their president was accused of being an illegal immigrant and he recently laughed it off by showing a video clip from the opening of the Lion King. Despite heavy criticism he’s one step closer to healthcare reform, and the withdrawal of the troops and the lack of pomp with which he did it won over even my reluctant vote. I used to think the US was overrated, not worth the respect they garnered at times, but I realized that one man does make a world of difference. Bush’s America and Obama’s America are worlds apart.

Am I less of a patriot of thinking highly of the West? I think not.

Sure we hit the global media for ridiculous things like ‘taking the gay out of our young men’, backyard trash like cowhead stepping and Molotov cocktails being thrown into mosque grounds. Sure we’re famous for things like hotel raids during Valentine’s day, armed robbery in broad daylight, racial bigotry, political voyeurism, and blind support of local industries at the expense of crazy import duties, less than efficient fuel consumption and generic versions of Lancers and Mitsubishis on our roads.

I definitely sound like am slandering my own nation here, but bear with me. Like I was saying, this summer, I still am heading home to quirky Malaysia.

You see, I spent 3 of my 6 years here with a Muslim roommate, something you would have never seen in a local university hostel. Trust me, my elder siblings, they were ‘placed at random’ and they all ended up with Indian roommates in their local public universities. When my roomamate and I split ways, it was due to personal issues, nothing religious. She prayed 5 times a day, and read from the Quran each night, and I sang my Hindu devotional songs and occasionally even lit incense sticks during major celebrations. She didn’t mind me eating pork, nor did I mind her eating beef. She comes from a traditional Malay family, and I from a traditional Tamil one.  We’re still close friends, classmates, and occasional shopping buddies despite having had our differences.

When the MQA decided to get international recognition, and PSD decided to review its scholarship awarding, though I may not benefit from either…  in the first case because I stand a risk of being careerless, and in the second because having completed my university education, I no longer stand a chance of gaining a JPA scholarship… I began to hope. The MQA review, suspension of civil servant hiring for 3 months seems to hold promise of a fairer system based on merit rather than racial quota. I am not saying please impoverish one race, I am saying choose people who are eligible for the job, those with necessary skill and the motivation to improve themselves. Since our Public Health is in such a state, a qualification exam would be disastrous to the 3000 odd Russian and Ukrainian Medical graduates, yes, but if it means it’s for a less biased, more efficient medical workforce, then why the heck not. Here’s to hoping there isn’t a quota on that as well though.. coz if there is, a lot of us would be royally f**ked. And on the PSD scholarship, awarding overseas scholarships should be based on merit. Admittedly it should have been discussed within the Cabinet to prevent rumours of a divided BN, but I think it was a gutsy move, transparent, and it got almost immediate results. As opposed to our annual dilemma about top scorers not being awarded government scholarships to pursue their field of interest, maybe this will give us a real solution to the problem instead of a temporary settlement when it makes headlines about how the top scorer who was missed by the system finally got a scholarship to Ireland to pursue Actuarial Science.

So yes am disillusioned, but I still carry a spark of hope that someday, Malaysians will tell race politics to go get a real job, and we might live together as a real community. Where people would rather come home and not choose to hold jobs overseas as opposed to a true career at home because they have given up with racial stereotypes and lack fair opportunities to be all they can be.

Someday perhaps... someday…

That is why am going home. Because I still have hope for Malaysia…

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Pride and Vanity

I want you to know…
There are times you leave me in a quandry
Times when I realize you need more than me
And at those times I cannot explain the unease
The wire-bound tightness in my chest;
The tears of dull-toned hurt that fail to flow;
And the choking breaths that barely escape…
The beating mass in the centre of me,
That pump made of muscle so strong
Is in truth just weak…
The persistent flutters as it yearns too much
To be all that you want, the one thing you need?
That my friend is just pride and vanity

Tuesday, May 17, 2011


Happy Wesak to all who celebrate :) missing the orange robes, sanskrit chants and rotating water fans in the brickfields buddhist mahavira..

Sunday, May 15, 2011

The Kitchen Business

*WARNING: Do not read if you are vegetarian, or have a particularly sensitive stomach :)

Y was smiling, telling me about how she planned to cook the chicken, what she had put into the marinade and it hit me that we were almost what we used to be – good friends.

We had met in Primary 1 – I think we were seated next to each other on the first day of class (I forget exactly…)

Then that day, almost two decades later, we stood in the same common kitchen; Y pushing the chicken aside and reaching for the basin with prawns in them, and I at the sink, gutting the awful fish that would be dinner.

“Yeah, I miss our markets, where the Aunty will de-scale, gut and cut up the fish into beautiful pieces,” I said over my shoulder at her, wincing inwardly at the slippery feel of the fish stomach lining that I was trying to remove.

“I know! And here, the marketing is a lot more expensive. It’s, what, more than double of the price we pay at home, plus the products aren’t exactly fresh, are they?” From the corner of my eye I saw her yanking off the head of an orange prawn which came off with a squishy sound, making us giggle.

I rinsed off the pieces of fish and took the twenty steps it takes me to get into my unit door where I unceremoniously stuffed the now clean and cut fish into my tiny refrigerator. 

“Where’s N?” Y asked me when I walked back into the kitchen.

“Sleeping, we finished at 4 this morning.” My roommate and I had been at another friend’s room, celebrating a birthday Malaysian style with a midnight rojak party after a major exam.

I half filled my pot with water and plopped the whole chicken in, waiting for it to defrost.

“Move over, Y.” I made my way to the other end of the kitchen and grabbed my cute little knife and started deveining the pile of headless prawns on her chopping board.

“You’re gonna die…!” Y said in a gruesome voice and snapped the head off the beady-eyed crustacean in her hand.

I concealed a smile. It felt good to have her friendship again. The last four years of awkwardness was fading away from my memory, that time when we had only said hi and exchanged formal pleasantries with each other.

Today, we aren’t exactly soul confidants to each other, but we can still depend on each other.

We have different groups of friends, but that is ay-oh-kay. We have become such different people, but we have somehow rediscovered how to click. That bond that had sprung between us during our school days apparently never really broke, it just got a bit frayed, and I have the kitchen and the time we spend in it to thank for realising that piece of truth.

Note: I discovered sometime ago that my Pakistani friends do not eat sea produce as they are not considered ‘halal’, which means that they’ve never tasted prawn/crab/shellfish before. They can eat fish though. I find that fascinating for some odd reason… Maybe it’s like a no pork, no beef thing in Muslims and Hindus and some Buddhists?

Friday, May 06, 2011


Havent had time for it lately. The inspiration is in abundance though :p... perhaps one of these days. But that's what i've been saying for the past 3-4-5 mths... hehee... maybe tis time to accept that Connections needs to be put behind me? For a person that lets go of some things easily, some other things are way too hard for me to leave behind.. I think i take attachment to the point of obsession and disattachment to the point of schizoid personailty disorders. I need to find a middle path. This is when I should pay more attention to Buddhist teachings and seek the middle way. Oh well... back to my books for now..

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Butterfly Kisses - Bob Carlisle

There's two things I know for sure:
She was sent here from heaven and she's
daddy's little girl.
As I drop to my knees by her bed at night
She talks to Jesus and I close my eyes and
I thank god for all the joy in my life
Oh, but most of all
For butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer;
sticking little white flowers all up in her
hair; "Walk beside the pony, Daddy, it's my first ride."
"I know the cake looks funny, Daddy, but I sure tried."
In all that I've done wrong I know I must
have done something right to deserve a hug
every morning and butterfly kisses at night.
Sweet 16 today
She's looking like her mama a little more everyday
One part woman, the other part girl.
To perfume and make-up from ribbons and curls
Trying her wings out in a great big world.
But I remember
Butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer; sticking
little white flowers all up in her hair.
"You know how much I love you, Daddy, But if you
don't mind I'm only gonna kiss you on the cheek this time."
With all that I've done wrong I must have done
something right to deserve her love every morning
and butterfly kisses at night.
All the precious time
Like the wind, the years go by.
Precious butterfly.
Spread your wings and fly.
She'll change her name today.
She'll make a promise and I'll give her away.
Standing in the bride-room just staring at her.
She asked me what I'm thinking and I said "I'm not
sure-I just feel like I'm losing my baby girl."
She leaned over...gave me butterfly kisses with her mama there,
Sticking little white flowers all up in her hair
"Walk my down the aisle, Daddy-it's just about time."
"Does my wedding gown look pretty, Daddy? Daddy, don't cry!"
Oh, with all that I've done wrong I must have
done something right.
To deserve your love every morning and butterfly
kisses-I couldn't ask God for more, man this is what love is.
I know I gotta let her go, but I'll always remember
every hug in the morning and butterfly kisses.
Chokes me up for no good reason.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Introducing the Art of Baby Care

Decided to tap into my maternal side and this is all I could come up with.. for all of you new parents... coming from seasoned veterans in the baby business, allow my to impart my limited knowledge in the field of raising kids :-p

And btw, if a friend of yours has kids, buying baby wipes is a big favour. Really :-|

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Written By A Very Angry Girl

Warning: B*tching session in progress.
“Love. I believed in it once, now I don’t anymore.” That line, it made my blood boil. I closed that blasted tab, a profile page on Facebook, the profile of a friend I once knew. I tried to calm down. I browsed through some YouTube clips and trimmed my nails, but I could still feel  the throbbing at my temples.

Deliberately I opened my Facebook profile and updated my status. When I was done, it read: ‘Where were you when I needed you? And now you make it seem like you were the only one wronged. Grow up la…! Ggrrr..!!’

Totally immature but that done I felt better. You see, it had been going on for months. A mutual friend was the unasked source of updates on my ex’s life and apparently two years down the road, he still is all torn up over me and it sure as hell beats me as to why. Not like I am irreplaceable. Not like he ever took much initiative when we were together. Not like he lacks the maturity to let go and move on. Wait. I take the last one back.  The consistency in his emotional outbursts used to worry me. I thought perhaps he was unstable. Now it’s more of a wallowing in self pity and it has me raging mad. Gggrrrr…!!!

Allow me to explain my sudden lack of maturity. I am usually a calm person, but my ex and I share mutual friends. And on Facebook, it isn’t too hard to piece together who one person is talking about in his/her status updates… and since my ex has never been in a real relationship either before or after me, it would take a deaf and dumb blonde with no worldly exposures to not guess who he has been implying in his heart broken shoutouts.

I am not evil. At least I don’t think I am. But I AM human. And when you stalked me to my front door and involved my family I told you to back off and be decent. Then you assured another mutual friend that you would let go. 6 months plus after that ‘assurance’, and you’re still playing The Wronged in a relationship that lasted less than a year. A relationship where we tried to make it right so many times?  Remember the one where you lacked the commitment and balls to pick up the phone and call me when I needed a friend? The one where you didn’t bother finding out what day I was leaving to 7000 miles away and didn’t call me for a week after that till I called and said it was over? And then you said OK time to call it quits?

And then you decided that you had lost the one thing that made you 'cared for'? Did it ever occur to you that you ever only looked for me when you were going through great change – like getting a posting?

Now, 2.5 years down the road I am sick and bloody tired of hearing that you haven’t ‘gotten over the one person you cared for’ because when we were together you had the emotional capacity of a marshmallow. So stop telling the world that ‘no matter what you do, you can’t erase memories of her’  because you don’t deserve the pathetic sympathy people give you for having ‘loved and lost’. And stop being a jack*ss.  Please.

Then I thought of this quote:
“FB war is like Paralympics. No matter who wins, if you’re a part of it, you’re still a retard.”

But being retarded is so much cooler than being slandered.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

It Has Been A While

Yes, it has...I've been otherwise occupied and intend to get this blog back up and running... Soon..erm soon-ish :P

Sunday, January 30, 2011


You know the normal story
How he loves you and leaves?
Fights and lies mar the memory
Tears fall for a time so brief?
Then you wake up from the stupor
Heart barricaded, crocodiles fed
Then you wake up from the stupor
Resolute to not be in pain and sad
Then you wake up from the stupor
But the crocodiles have become meaner
You’ve fed them don’t you see,
The unnamed beasts have been fed!

You smile again, survive and dance away,
No mention of crocodiles by any breadth
Brave upfront yet afraid to let ‘em in,
The friends you haven’t met at arm’s length
You laugh and go through the routine…
One day the meticulous dams break
The fortress falls to ruins over time
Your armour rusts off piece by blasted piece
You let your guard slip, unknowingly perhaps?
And someone makes it in:
A friend you can trust
Someone who cares in too blatant a way
No deception, just plain sincerity
Honesty so painful that the beasts are silenced
And even you begin to think ‘em slain
Then something reminds you they’re there
Watching, waiting, hungry for a morsel…

And yet the friend stays
‘For some crocodiles,’ he says
‘You need to wield the knife yourself
I killed nine of ten
I left you one, just one tiny one
To help you grow, to help you decide
And through it all, I’ll be at your side’
‘So fuck the crocodile,’ I say
‘Let’s go catch that movie at nine’

Friday, January 07, 2011


It's Christmas today here. I'm splat in Eastern Europe, in a country where the people are predominantly Orthodox Christians. For them Christmas is on Jan 7th :)

I was going through my bloglist and realised that stuff I read comes predominantly from Malaysia, Sri Lanka and India... There are the odd African and American blogs out there that I follow, but they're rare and few in number.. Just a random thought.

First snowfall during our first year