28th February

Today, 28th February 2008 is not just another Thursday. It was to be Jeannie's and my 22nd wedding anniversary.

I had spent about 7 hours at Starbucks in Mid Valley Gardens the day before and apart from clearing up some backlogged paper work it was also a time to reflect and decide on numerous personal issues. Many had to do with us without Jeannie, since 28th February was looming; practical matters like moving house, the kids' education and future, my own future and mindset, etc........

Yahoo alerted me about today and seeing the words "Wedding Anniversary (repeats once a year)" in my mailbox two days ago stirred up emotions. The fact that I am now a widower finally sank in with the realization that there are no more wedding anniversaries with Jeannie. I was immediately reminded of our 17th wedding anniversary that we celebrated in COBRA Club and my letter to Jeannie that she read out to our guests. The words still rankle as the memory of the moment remains etched in my psyche. This is the part of the letter that was prophetic and virtually our plea to the Universe for more.....

"..........Ours has always been one of a countdown rather than of notching the years. A conscious decision we made to cherish and relish our remaining years together has enhanced our relationship and defined our marriage. Every anniversary we share reduces the number of anniversaries we have left; yet we are happy. We are happy to have found each other, we are happy to be together, we are happy to walk together.

My darling, you are to me more precious than life. If given a choice between immortality without you, and counting down years together with you. I would choose the finite.

May the years we have left be more than the 17 wonderful years we have shared as "US"......."

Jeannie and I reached that moment in our lives together on the 12th of July, 2007 when the countdown stopped. Today there is no anniversary but just a date.....28th February.

"Gilding the Lily" - Launching

Was invited to the launch of Suet Fun and Sekhar's book last Tuesday, 19th February.




Book recognising Malaysian women
2o February, 2008

A great book: (From left) Author Liew Suet Fun, Women, Family and Community Development secretary-general Datuk Faizah Mohd Tahir Faizah, Shahrizat and the book’s photographer S.C. Shekar looking at the book after its launch in Kuala Lumpur.



KUALA LUMPUR: Gilding the Lily, a coffee-table book that recognises the place of Malaysian women, has been published by the Women, Family and Community Development Ministry. Its publication is inspired by the minister, Datuk Seri Shahrizat Abdul Jalil.

"This is a book that recognises a woman's choice which is largely shaped by her individual ethnic, cultural and religious background, as well as the fabric of the Malaysian society," she said.

She added that the expression "gilding the lily" referred to something which was complete which did not need further adornment.

"In this context, the reference is to Malaysian women and how, with their tenacity, strength and enduring qualities, they are complete regardless of their circumstance," she said after launching the book at the Bangsar Shopping Centre here yesterday.

The book not only provides profound insights of a woman's life but that of some men, too, by shining new light on how significant their minds and vision really work.

It delves into 65 real-life escapades of women with mixed-bag stories.

Each story is supported by numerous illustrations and a series of photographs that reflect the person and its tale.

The 224-page book is authored by Liew Suet Fun and photographer S.C. Shekar.

Another Friday Evening At Sid's Pub (17th February, 2008)

Having missed the pre-CNY gathering at Suet Fun's place, Capt Azmi suggested this post-CNY piss up at Sid's Pub again. Elizebeth organized it yet showed up late and conveniently blamed Alzheimer's for almost forgetting the date. On the other hand, Mike (who also missed the pre-CNY) really outdid himself this time.

We have moved from sambal belacan to caviar and "foie gras" in just one session at Sid's. Progress or regression I wonder?

The following posts in the Old Edwardians eGroup by Mike and Harjit tell the story; the phonecam photos are expectedly grainy.

Mike Naser said:

Dear friends,

I arrived at Sid's at 1930 hrs sharp. There was Ah Kooi who has bought a bunch of vadeh for all of us. Really, only a Tepin boy will do it. Shortly after the eloquent bon vivant and raconteur extraordinaire, Azmi Radzi, arrived in a tattered Padi Planter's hat. Almost immediately, he denied that not all airline pilots carried pedophile porno in their laptops. He carried Quranic verses in his. We thought that was really dangerous as he could be locked up in NY or LA as an Al-Qaeda member.

He asked me, "Mike, what do you carry in yours?" Answer. "The psalms of Nabi Daud. For Instance. Drinketh thou plentyth wine, thou shall not suffer infirmities".

Quiet Jetey and the ebullient Ah Swee arrived. Ah Swee had just had a hair-cut at a Hindraf Barber shop and smelling of Bayrum. He announced with pride that he had lost weight over the CNY by 0.13 kg. Not bad.

Then, the evergreen Liz turned up and sat beside me. That turned me on so I said, "You look terrific and I love your Opium." Answer, " Don't BS Mike, its Chanel Numero Cinq". Even I can make mistakes.

Shahrin and his wife Elita arrived. Shahrin was peering through his bottle-top specs at Ah Swee whose face, by then, had the pigmentation of a roasted prawn and my beady eyes were reminiscent of my Chink background. Azmi continued as a dazzling raconteur.

Much to my pleasure, I discovered that Elita was the daughter of Col Eddie Elias, RMC grad, PhD Informatics and commissioned in the Corps of Engineers. He was my squash, rugby and diving mate. A good soldier and scholar. His daughter, Elita, is beautiful with hidung mancung. Great to meet her.

Finally, Miss St. Mary's, Susan, came in breathtakingly exotic. She was late. Apparently, she went quietly for a bowl of Bah-kut-teh somewhere. Her darling husband does not eat porko. But, inexplicably, I was confidentially told that he osculated her with ferocity on the lips after she had taken two bowls of Bah-kut-teh. Like all men with machismo, at this moment critique, haram/halal masuk lungkang.

It was a good night imbibing over tiger/tigress frivolities and Ah Swee controlling events. It is from these small meetings that we develop a bigger thing for the semangat of the harimau. We must carry on.

Cheers and thanks. Lovely night.

***********************************************************************

Harjit Singh (Jetey) said:

Mike

It was a good night. You fed all of us with caviar, black and orange, liver pate of geese and a host of delicacies from Tehpeng (or its suburban areas like Pinang). You were a gentleman explaining why you wouldn't drink a beer at 5AM before slugging miserable boars who turned up early as if they were Obamas ready for glory. I respect that.

Nevermind if your pate was mislabelled so long as Capt Azmi and Elita found it to be the best bite they ever had; really, there's vely little difference between a pig and a duck in the year of the RAT.

Never mind if Liz turned up late and left early as long as she brought her own half bottle of wine she had difficulty in ploughing through.

Never mind Capt Azmi's randy hands ploughing all over Susan's you-know-what, but I suppose thats what it takes to keep the aircraft steady.

Never mind Patmanathan's early exit on the pretext of answering a phone call as if he was scheduled for another MIC rally.

Never mind the fact that MAS pilots left the cockpit attended to by Mat Rempits (who were given a better performing machine to keep them out of mischief) so long as they were praying for you.

Never mind if the monkeys in Kinabatangan thought that Bung Mokhtar was their saviour and gave him his mercedes on my tax money.

Never mind. I'll be there the next time we plan to meet again. This time Jetey won't be so quiet.

Into The New Lunar Year

My cousin Cheng sent me this sms on the 9th of January and I found it as I was just clearing my phone "inbox":

"A belated Happy New Year. Now that you have clocked 9 days, of which I hope have been meaningful, just want to offer 1 bit of advice; don't try too hard-sometimes it is not the destination but the journey. Go on and enjoy yrself b4 you become a crotchety old man."

Writing this post now on Chinese New Year today, we are one month and a week into 2008 and perhaps I am one month and a week nearer to becoming a crotchety old man! Whatever else happens this year, it is going to be a year of numerous "firsts". So far, it has been the first time in 23 years I did not usher in the new year with Jeannie, first time in 22 years I did not celebrate my birthday with her and today is the first time in 22 years we will not have her with us on Chinese New Year. Indeed the Reunion Dinner last night lost its flavour because CNY had always been so Mummy! We were in Genting since JJ is working there temporarily.

My first CNY with Jeannie was in 1986 and being the more traditional, she made all the decisions on the do's and don'ts. I was more than willing to follow. This CNY I am in a dilemma; who do I follow? Of course I know some of the prequisites but who is going to make the decisions within the decisions? Who else will it be indeed.

This is Krystyn Cheah's first Chinese New Year in charge. As expected, she has done an admirable job so far. My only contributions were money which was not the important part and advice that she should be able to tell between tradition, superstition, and religion; we are more into traditions.

Not only did Krystyn do the shopping for everybody, she also did her fact finding about how we should, or should not be doing things this Chinese New Year in view of Mummy's passing less than a year ago. For instance, the superstitious will not want us to visit them during CNY for fear that we bring bad joss. Similarly, I should not be giving out ang pows to non-family members but we can receive. Basically, it appears we should not even be celebrating CNY.

Seeing Krystyn at the helm, I watched as she recalled what Mummy used to do and not do, she consulted friends' parents and scoured the WWW when she sought common practices and rationale, she used her judgement with matters in the grey area and she made decisions with the confidence that belied her years and experience. I take comfort that from here on, traditions in our household will live on and though CNY now is without Jeannie, her beliefs will live on as part of Krystyn's own. It is Krystyn's watch now.

An Evening At Club Suet

It started with Captain Azmi's pre-Christmas drinks at Sid's Pub and for pre-CNY we gathered at Suet Fun's place, now dubbed "Club Suet" by CK Loh.

Being a BYO occasion, I told SF that I would get some fresh sausages and wine. Since Club Suet is located off Jalan Gasing in PJ, I planned to get the stuff from the Jaya Supermart in Section 14. After getting through the traffic jam and running late, I got to Section 14 only to find that the supermarket was under refurbishment. Weighing options, the general map of the area came to mind; PJ New Town? Old Town? SEA Park? SS2? Damansara Jaya? Damansara Utama? or 1 Utama/TESCO/Curve?

Of course the 1 Utama/TESCO/Curve was the best place to get what I wanted but that was quite a distance away and it would take me at least 45 minutes to an hour. I decided to try Atria at Damansara Jaya although I had not been there for a couple of years at least. It turned out to be a fateful decision. Going in through the Esquire Kitchen restaurant end I could not see any supermart so I left. At the parking payment booth the attendant told me Giant Supermart was located at the opposite end so I drove out and back in.

The last time I met this relative was at Jeannie's wake. Before that we had not seen him for years. He was close to Jeannie when they were younger but in the end, turned out to be a major disappointment for her. To me, the guy was a self-centred man who self-justified everything so long as it benefitted himself; a weak man who thinks he is the pillar of strength amongst his siblings.

Nevertheless, I could understand the nature of this beast and why he became the pompous ass that he is today. This guy lives a charmed life and he owes much of what he has to many people in his life who give him things; from his wedding expenses to his career and many more in between. I suppose it is easy to presume capability and superiority when one stands head and shoulders above his brothers who by and large have screwed up their own lives-the proverbial kingdom of the blind.

I did not see him but he called me. I had bought the bratwurst and was at the wines section trying to pick out a couple of bottles. At first, I felt it right to be civil or pleasant even; as one thing led to another in the conversation, he could not resist trying his "holier than thou" pontification on me. I told him to go fuck himself and with that, severed this tie in my life forever. Good riddance to bad rubbish and a good way to end a shitty lunar year!

Coming back to Club Suet. It was a very good evening with great company, good food and wine. Once again, my late father was right when he said, "you may not be able to choose your relatives but thank goodness you can choose your friends".

Gilding the Lily - "Everywhere"

My dear friends Suet Fun and SC Shekar collaborated on a book commissioned by the Ministry Of Women, Family and Community Development, called "Gilding the Lily".

This is "....a collection of 65 stories and photographs in this book chronicles the lives of Malaysian women in their daily passage as they seek to define their existence through choices they have made and the choices that have been thrust upon them...". Jeannie's is one of the stories.

The two had visited us in October last year to gather material for Jeannie's story. Suet Fun had suggested a story on Jeannie from the perspective of what she left behind rather than of who she was. I felt it was an interesting angle and one that would be more acute from a third party viewpoint so I gave my consent. Seeing the book now, I realize it is a privilege to have Jeannie's story told in the book and asking for my earlier consent was an act of unequivocal humility on the part of Suet Fun. Yesterday, we received our autographed copy of this coffee table book that will soon be on sale at MPH bookstores.

Suet Fun and Shekar gave me permission to blog their story entitled, "Everywhere" including the accompanying photograph taken by Shekar. Here it is:

EVERYWHERE

She's everywhere. The cream frilled curtains that fringe the doorway to the kitchen, the way the dining table finds its cosy nook in the curve of the wall, the way the tealights burn, night after night when they are lit to release the aromas from her favourite oils and the way her scent lingers in the large wardrobe so that each time when the doors are open, Jeannie's voice filters through, as though she is still there.

Her husband, Cheah Keat Swee, treads the fine line between feeling that she is and isn't here anymore. I know she is gone, but she's still here, he says, raising his hand and encircling the space in which she once lived and breathed. Her face stares at you from above, in numerous photographs taken with the family. She is impeccably dressed. She hated having her pictures taken in the end, he says, because she had become so thin.

Jeannie had not been well for a long time. In more than twenty years of marriage, she had undergone eleven major surgeries for various ailments and caesarian sections, misdiagnosed with colon cancer and suffered from endometriosis. Still, Cheah and Jeannie had two children, a girl and a boy named Krystyn, now twenty and JJ, seventeen.

She fought everything for a long time, he says quietly. Her family background was also wrought with challenges, and she had to leave home and fend for herself at a very young age. WHEN CHEAH MET AND MARRIED JEANNIE, HE HAD "A BLUEPRINT TO IMPROVE HER". HOW COULD I HAVE KNOWN THAT I WOULD BE THE ONE WHO WOULD BE CHANGED, HE SAYS WONDERINGLY.

Cheah who was never brought up to be demonstrative learnt to speak of his feelings. She demanded that I express myself, he says, and I think I loved her so much, I wanted to do what was right. We always huddled together in the bathroom, she on the floor with her cigarette and I on the toilet seat, with my cigarette and we just talked, and talked.

For many years, her constant illnesses led Jeannie to have an impending sense of her own death. She never mollycoddled her children and raised them to be independent of her. Even from a young age, they were taught to get their own breakfasts. She also had many conversations with Krystyn and JJ, speaking of traditional values and behavior that was appropriate and expected of them. In many ways, Krystyn says, she was preparing us to go on without her.

And now that the time has come, the road ahead seems too hard. Despite all the careful prepping, the immense, inevitable sense of loss envelopes their home like a thick, grey fog. Hope, he declares, has died.

Now he sits, man alone, nursing a gin and tonic, taking a last draw from the last stick of Virginia Slims, Jeannie's favourite cigarette, while Jeannie looks down from above. And she is everywhere, but nowhere.

In Memory of Jeannie Cheah (1959 to 2007)

Never Take Things For Granted

I just realized that exactly six months has gone by since July 12th. Six months and a day ago we were still a family of 5 (including Prince Cheah) and things were so different then.

The anticipated milestones for the rest of 2007 had been JJ's SPM exams, Krystyn's 21st birthday and moving to a new home. We had great hopes for 2008 and though Jeannie was not as well as we wanted her to be, I thought her body was getting stronger. There was a sense of hope and balance in our lives (at least in my mind's eye) but little did I realize how instantaneously this hope could dissipate and how fragile this balance was. Now I am left to ponder how our own lives can change so drastically in just an instant with the last breath; the last conscious thought; the final heartbeat, of a loved one!

I remember so vividly that moment when the finality of Jeannie's passing first dawned upon me (the second the doctor at the Gleneagles A & E told me); our lives together just flashed across my mind like a highspeed intant replay. It was as if it was I who had died. The flashback came to an instant halt and I could see nothing! I could not imagine my life going forward from that point; it was as if I had lost my only reason to live. Then, reality dawned.

I remember huddling with Krystyn and JJ, telling them Mummy had passed away. I remember the tears; I remember their first words through the tears, that were spoken in tandem by them, "Papa, you still have us!". I remember thinking, how is it possible the two can say the same thing at the same time at such a time! I now know it was Mummy.

Jeannie always knew my own life would be wrecked by her passing. She prepared the kids as she could never prepare me for something I would never accept in my mind; the fact that she could go before me! Jeannie knew I needed the strength to continue providing the kids support they needed to grow into their own. Jeannie knew I would only be able to find that strength from the kids. She lives on so unmistakably in them that her lessons have become instinctive as the love is permanent.

I gained my composure after hearing those words from Krystyn and JJ. While the tears stopped, the pain persisted. Six months on, I now know the pain will always be there but I do not ever want it to go away. I have learnt to separate the sense of loss from the feeling of being lost and while the sense of loss must always remain, I am determined to get out of the wilderness.

Now, 2008 is upon us. JJ has sat for his SPM and awaiting the results, Krystyn turned 21 and we will be moving to a condo after Chinese New Year. For a while, we were a chair missing a leg, still able to stand but unstable; now we are a three legged stool, more stable but nevertheless, only a stool. For a while, we were a play missing its main star but now we are trying to write our own scripts within the same storyline. Even Prince who has for the last 6 months been terribly hot-tempered with his groomers, has calmed down and stopped biting them.

I wonder how many six months there are left in my life, but that is not important. The phrase "Never take things for granted" never held more meaning to me and I will try to live the rest of my days as such. My oft repeated statement these days is, "I have the best of both worlds; I have my kids here and when I go, Jeannie will be waiting for me there!"

Relatively Relative

I have always been facinated by the concept of duality and relativity. RPK has factored in the effects of different epochal considerations, place and values in this take of his:









The law of relativity

Posted by Raja Petra
Thursday, 10 January 2008

Mankind is quick to judge and pass judgement according to their own values and beliefs. They believe that if they believe it is right then it has to be right and if they believe it is wrong then it has to be wrong.

As I write this piece I am sitting in Starbucks at the Pantai Medical Centre awaiting the arrival of my fourth grandchild. He is due any time now and probably by the time you read this I will already be the proud grandfather of my third grandson. This is my 35-year old daughter's third child. She had a daughter and a son about a year apart some five to six years ago. My third grandchild was born in Manchester barely a few months ago so this latest one is going to be almost the same age.

A few hours ago I was at another hospital, the Sunway Specialist Centre. My friend, Adlan Benan Omar, the same age as my daughter, is dying and by the time you read this he would probably be dead. Yes, it has been one heck of a day for me rushing from one hospital to see a dying comrade to another to see my daughter of that same age bringing a fragile little being into this world. Such is life. One goes away and another one comes along. It makes you wonder whether everything is worth the effort when at the end of the day all you get is a hole in the ground and you revert to dust and ashes.

Anyway, that is not what I want to discuss today. It's just that I just had to mention them because these two events are going to have a great impact on my life. What I really want to talk about is the issue of right and wrong and our perception of what is right and what is wrong and how right can be wrong and wrong can be right, depending on the time and place and how you were brought up.

The Minister of Health had to resign because he committed a crime. The Minister of Health had to resign because public opinion says he committed a crime and a Minister is subject to public opinion. The Minister of Health had to resign because he was fixed up so that they could pressure him into resigning. The Minister of Health had to resign to save himself the embarrassment of getting sacked, which would have happened had he not resigned. The Minister of Health had to resign because he was ashamed of what he did. The Minister of Health had to resign because he knows it is impossible for him to continue commanding the respect of those under him and this would make him ineffective as a Minister. The Minister of Health had to resign because he was caught committing a crime and anyone unfortunate enough to get caught has to resign. The Minister of Health had to resign so that he could launch a challenge against the MCA leadership and the only way he could do this would be from the 'outside' because if he remained on the 'inside' he would have to 'toe the line' and 'behave himself'.

Which do you think is the real reason for the Minister of Health resigning? Different people would of course have different views as to why he resigned. And your view would all depend on the values you uphold and your perception of what is right and what is wrong. But right and wrong are subject to time and place. At different times and places, right could be wrong and wrong could be right. This is what I would call the law of relativity. Your judgement about what is right and wrong would be in relation to certain criteria and yardsticks.

For example, I am a poor man. I am poor in relation to the wealth that Bill Gates has. And Malaysia Today is making me poorer by the day. But in relation to a Bangladeshi labourer who washes dishes in a Mamak restaurant for a living, I am a rich man. After all, how many Bangladeshi labourers live in a semi-detached house overlooking a golf club? So perception is therefore everything. And this perception can be influenced or clouded by time and place.

There is another thing that influences how you see things. And this would be your own values and beliefs. If you believe that such a thing is right then it would become right, and vice versa. And this belief, again, would be influenced by time and place.

In the pre-Islamic days, women in the Arabian Peninsular were allowed more than one husband. And daughters would be buried alive because women are 'worthless' compared to men. Women are merely 'property' that can be passed down just like sheep and camels. Nevertheless, in spite of women being regarded as property, they could have more than one husband. In Europe, at around that same time, women would be made to wear chastity belts to ensure that they did not indulge in sex with another man. And halfway across the world the women there, 'second-class' people according to Arab standards, could legally enjoy sex with many men.

The same time but in two different places and what was right for one society was very wrong for another. So who are we to judge what is right and what is wrong? Right and wrong all depends on when that particular thing happened and where it happened.

Right and wrong are very much in the mind. It very much depends on how you have been brought up and educated and what your mind has been conditioned to become. And religion of course plays a very big part in all this.

Let us look at another example. Muslims would be very offended if you invite them for dinner and the food is non-halal or there is pork on the table. Even if there is no pork on the table but the kitchen cooks pork they would still feel offended. You have to ensure that the restaurant is totally pork-free and that the food is halal. It is not enough that pork is not on the table.

But Muslims do not feel offended if they invite vegetarians, Hindus or Buddhists for dinner and there is beef on the table. While Muslims may become very violent if you serve them pork, they are cool about serving vegetarians, Hindus and Buddhists, beef. If you point out to them that according to your religious belief beef is not halal, they would just suggest you lay off the beef. They would not apologise and instruct the waiter to remove the beef. They would then continue consuming beef in front of you. Try eating pork in front of them and see how they would react.

To Muslims, it is wrong to serve pork or even have it on the table or cooked in the kitchen. But it is right to serve beef and have it cooked in the kitchen and even eat it in front of you while you look on totally repulsed by the sight. The Muslim view of right and wrong would be what is right and wrong in Islam. What about what is right and wrong in the other religions? Muslims regard only Islam as the true religion and all other religions as false so they will only take what Islam says is right and wrong as the criteria. The right and wrong for the other religions need to be ignored or else you would be regarded as 'practicing' the values of another religion.

Unfortunately, this value system and the yardstick adopted to gauge right from wrong make Muslims very selfish. They only worry about what is right and wrong from the Islamic perspective while totally ignoring what may be allowed or taboo for the other religions. They would not bother to find out the religious persuasions of their dinner guests or ensure that the right menu is prepared in compliance to that particular religious belief. But they expect you to know that they are Muslims and that Islam forbids pork. And it is your duty to ensure that the restaurant is totally halal and that not only there is no pork cooked or served anywhere in the restaurant but that the beef and other livestock have been properly slaughtered the correct
Islamic way.

Mankind is quick to judge and pass judgement according to their own values and beliefs. They believe that if they believe it is right then it has to be right and if they believe it is wrong then it has to be wrong. And they will use the present time and place and according to how they have been brought up and educated into believing as the criteria.

In the days before the French Revolution, cat burning was a popular form of entertainment. Cats would be rounded up and placed in a cage and then lowered slowly into an open fire. The cats would scream with pain, and as they burned the spectators would clap and squeal with delight. Yes, this was a very popular form of entertainment in France in the days before cable TV, the internet, computer games and the like.

There is of course nothing wrong with that form of entertainment. This is not considered cruelty to animals. Yes, there is nothing wrong and it is not cruel against the backdrop of France 500 years ago. Try doing that in Paris today and see what happens. Therefore, what was right 500 years ago in France is wrong today. And 500 years ago even the 'primitive' and 'backward' Malays in this country would not burn alive hundreds of cats for entertainment. It was wrong for Malays to subject cats to what today would be regarded as cruelty even 500 years ago when it was fashionable in France and a very popular form of entertainment. Right and wrong therefore depends on who you are, where you are, and at what point of time or when you are considering all this.

Now let us look at religion. Every religion, not only Islam, says it is right and that all the other religions are wrong. But which one is the really right religion? Do you know? Of course you do know. And your answer would be: the right religion is the religion you were born into and which you were brought up in and taught to believe in. All the others are wrong.

But how can you be sure of this? Is it because you have been brainwashed and indoctrinated so? Okay, what if you were born into a Muslim family instead of a Christian family? Would you still say that Jesus was the last Prophet and that Muhammad was a fake? You were taught your entire life that Islam is the true religion and all other religions are false. Your entire family is Muslim and you have been taught to believe that if you do not believe in Islam you will be sent to hell where you will remain forever. How would you not believe this is so?

Right and wrong all depend on how you were born. If you were born in Sweden to a Christian family then your beliefs would be moulded along that society's value system. And if you were born in Saudi Arabia to a Wahabbi family then your beliefs would be moulded along that society's value system. In both situations you would believe you are right. And in both situations you could actually be wrong.

How could both be right? One has to be right and the other wrong. But the right and wrong would all depend on which family you were born into. So right could be wrong and wrong could be right according to who you are in terms of time, race and religious beliefs. Therefore, since right and wrong are not static but would change according to which family you were born into and at which point of time, then there cannot be any right and wrong. Right and wrong do not exist. Right and wrong are merely how you perceive things and perceptions -- since they are influenced by time, place, upbringing, etc. -- are not real.

But mankind will not accept this. No one would declare that the religion they believe in is wrong while the religion they do not believe in is right. Right is always what you believe in and wrong would be all which is opposed to what you believe in. That is the value system you will uphold.

But how do you even know in the first place that there is such a thing called religion and that it came from God? You don't. You only have faith. And you will allow your faith to decide your beliefs. This is what you have been taught and what those who have taught you have been taught before that. So it is a hand-me-down 'knowledge' that cannot be proven but must be believed only because those before you have believed the same.

If I tell you that God listens to my prayers every night you would believe this because you believe the same thing. In fact, billions of people believe this same thing so as long as this belief is shared by the majority then it must be right. But if I tell you that God talks to me through my notebook computer and He leaves me messages on my word processor you would not believe me mainly because no one else believes the same thing. Your beliefs and your perception of right and wrong therefore is based on majority view. As long as the majority thinks the same then this is correct. It is wrong only when it goes against the majority view. Cat burning, if made into an international event, would be right only if many think so, as was so in France 500 years ago. Would you think that boxing is an acceptable sport if 99% of the world condemned it? If boxing is acceptable why not duels with pistols?

You may think this statement is ridiculous. Well, it would not be considered ridiculous during the time of the Romans when gladiators battled to the death in the Coliseum. It may be wrong today but it was very right then. And as recent as 150 years ago witches were burned alive at the stake in 'modern' Europe and America. An estimated 20,000-50,000 witches were burned alive over 300 years or so and it was very much right then and sanctioned, in fact encouraged, by the church. It is only wrong to burn witches today.

So right is wrong and wrong is right depending on who you are, where you were born, and when you were born. Your values are your values and it does not mean that they are right values. It just means that they are your perception of what are right values. So keep your values to yourself. Do not impose your values on me. And 200 years ago the Minister of Health would be allowed hundreds of mistresses in keeping with his status as a Minister of the Ruler. And he would not have to resign. But for plotting the downfall of his boss he would not just be fixed up and forced to resign but his head would be spiked on a stake outside the city gates.

Happy New Day!

I would rank 2007 as the worst year of my life and 99.99% of it is because I lost Jeannie in July. When my father passed away in 1985, it was mitigated by my meeting Jeannie that same year. Successes on the work front pale in relation to the loss of my beloved Jeannie as much wind had been knocked out of my sail.

Now, as I contemplate the new year, I feel a need to seek new impetus. A certain mindset perhaps, to carry me through. This was the 1st January message I put out to friends for 2008:

"Today being the first day of the rest of our lives, I am determined to make 2008 be about living 365 days and not one day 365 times! How about you? Happy New Day!"

The words may not be very original but for me, they do strike a chord.

Uncle Tang

This morning I received an sms from my cousin, Cheng asking me if I would like to go over to her place in Ulu Langat because her father, my "Uncle Tang" was down from Penang. I thought, well why not? After all, Cheng's husband Nordin Hamid had passed away just about a month ago and I had promised to visit her in the weeks following the funeral. I had also not met "Uncle Tang" (who is married to my father's sister), in years.

No one and I think, including this uncle of mine knew how he became known as "Uncle Tang". Born almost 80 years ago as Lee Kheng Cheang, I have always known him as "Uncle Tang" or "Ah Tang" to his comtemporaries. He was a couple of years older than my father and they were great buddies; it was not surprising that Uncle Tang featured very much in my younger life. He would have known me since I was born.

Uncle Tang has always been an outdoors man and when I was old enough to be aware, I knew he was a rubber estate manager in Kulim. I vividly remember visiting the estate that was referred to as "Foothills" numerous times. Savoring "estate" life away from the towns was something that created a lasting impression on me. Give me the town anytime!

I do not know why he gave up a planter's life and went into pig farming but I remember him doing very well in the business initially. I do remember once when we were living in Parit Buntar (1966 to 1968) there was a big commotion at our house when Uncle Tang had a big quarrel with his business partner. They were obviously drinking quite a bit and that was the first time I had seen with my own eyes grown men fighting; I was about 7.

Unfortunately for Uncle Tang, a swine fever epidemic wiped out his business almost overnight. I remember hearing from my father that his pigs were dying at such a rate, he could not bury them fast enough. I believe he would have been financially wiped out too.

During that period, my father who was headmaster of a lower secondary school in Parit Buntar, was posted to Kroh for a year before ending up in Pengkalan Baru (Dindings District, Perak) near Pantai Remis in 1969, where he ultimately served for about a decade. The family moved back to Taiping in 1969 since Pengkalan Baru was only about 45 minutes drive away and my father commuted. It was there that he got to know Raj who was the manager of Huntly Estate. Raj was the son of the well known Kalyana Sundram who had struck it rich during the estates fragmentation era. Raj and my father remained great friends till my father 's death in 1985.

The Gula Perak sugar factory was also in the vicinity and heating must be an important aspect of the whole process of sugar manufacturing. That gave rise to the requirement of lots of fire wood. It appeared that the "stars were aligned", what with Uncle Tang looking for opportunities and having the requisite domain expertise, Raj in the process of re-planting and my father, the brains. The two brothers-in-law got into the business of supplying rubber wood to feed the hungry furnaces of Gula Perak. That was also how Uncle Tang ended up staying with us for the next couple of years. I remember they started with one, then two Ford 5000 tractors. It was also the first time I learnt that the only thing straight about a chinaman is his hair! One ton could become two because the weigh-bridge operator had personal problems that he needed help with. Well, that's one perspective anyway!

Later, when the firewood business tapered off, Uncle Tang came up with the idea of tapioca chips for animal feed or something. That was when they leased a piece of land in Air Kuning, planted acres of tapioca and constructed a tarmac for drying the chips. That somehow turned out to be a hare-brained scheme possibly because Taiping is the wettest region in the country. Uncle Tang moved to Bidor after that to manage a rubber estate; a full circle.

The time when Uncle Tang stayed with us in Taiping coincided with my pre-teen years, from Standard 5 to about Form 1. Those carefree days when school work was a cinch and one was just discovering one's environment.

He made an important impression on my life as he was the one who taught us many boyish outdoor activities. Though my father grew up in the rural surroundings of Selama, at that time he was busy running the school and outdoor physical activity was just not on. Uncle Tang taught us to catch fighting fish in water puddles in the outskirts of town, ikan haruan fishing using bamboo poles and line at mining lakes and bottom fishing using hook, line and sinker, off the coast of Pangkor and Penang. He even took me wild boar hunting and to shoot flying foxes, snipes and wild pigeons. I was no stranger to using a shotgun even at that age. Uncle Tang also had an air-rifle that fired pellets and I look back with amazement how he trusted us with it. The pellets could not kill humans but certainly they could maim (eg. cause blindness) since we used it for target practice and to kill birds and small animals. My schoolmates who definitely had the same exposure at that age were Paul and Meng Hock.

When I met Uncle Tang today I found that he is now almost totally deaf but otherwise very much the same jovial and carefree person who seems to have endless patience. Being still spritely and mentally alert, he was in the midst of cutting bamboo to make a bubu (fish trap) for Cheng who lives with her 3 boys in her hacienda style home on 16 acres of agricultural land with fish ponds. He says this is the first time he is making the fish trap after 65 years! That must have been when he was about the same age as me back in Taiping those days! Even for me that was more than 35 years ago! Time.

The Dejobbing of En. HM

The working world of a dejobbed worker is not for the meek yet when one gets into the groove, it is a fulfilling, productive and rewarding experience.

The photos below say it all. My good friend and business partner, HM is the personification of a dejobbed individual. The perfect example of not needing a job when all one needs is work.

He began his career in the brick and mortar world of the last century; rising to the pinnacle of the local insurance industry. In this century, HM is still one of the most recognisable faces in the industry yet he does not represent any insurance company exclusively. His versatility enables him to work on projects in a variety of areas other than insurance and with various teams.

This business man, employer, employee, risk manager, author, lecturer, leader, follower, is equally comfortable with a pen or a keyboard and in a boardroom or a Mamak stall; a T-shirt or a full suit; meeting a Minister or a peon; discussing insurance treaties at Lloyds or books delivery logistics at Port Klang; taking instructions on the most minor or making decisions on the most major.

Being a man a with an inherent multi-tasking mindset helps HM to thrive in a world where time is what you make of it and self-actualization depends on YOU.....even when you sometimes need to work from the boot of your car! The photos show HM in the car park about to attend a meeting and coordinating two other projects with his Nokia Communicator.

It's Christmas Day and Number 27 Came Up Again

Today and yesterday I received so many sms Christmas greetings yet I am not a Christian. Given the many socio-political issues plaguing the country today, the smses that spoke the loudest to me were those from my Muslim friends. Hidup Bangsa Malaysia!!

Most of our close friends know the significance of number 27 to us. Browsing through the Net this morning, I discovered that to Raja Petra Kamarudin of Malaysia Today fame, 27 also holds great significance. I have heard of people differentiating their lives into change-stages of say, 5 year, 10 year periods etc. but never 27 years!

It appears RPK is only just about to embark on a journey similar to that which I am on, but the difference is mine started about 27 years ago. May he find peace along the way; even if he does not live to 81!

To RPK, this is what 27 means:


Fruit from a poisonous tree will be poisonous


They say only Islam is good, all other religions are bad. And those with no religion whatsoever or atheists are even worse. But these people from the good religion want the government to do bad things. That is what troubles me to no end. How can a good religion make people want to be bad?

Malaysia can pride itself in knowing that regardless of what religious celebration it may be, its ethnic groups will come together as one to honour the event, the mainstream newspapers reported Prime Minister Abdullah Ahmad Badawi as saying. Abdullah said religious festivals celebrated in Malaysia serve to bridge gaps and foster better ties among the multi-religious and multi-racial makeup of the country.

Malaysia, he said, was blessed, as the people not only had great respect for each other's religion, but also for the religious occasions that the different segments of society celebrated. Abdullah also said Malaysians never failed to display respect towards each other and it was customary for most to offer help and lend a hand during religious festivities, even to those outside their own race.

“A religious occasion, including Hari Raya, is a day when we seize the opportunity to visit our friends and strengthen our ties as true Malaysians. In our everyday lives, we prioritise aspects of goodwill and understanding towards each other, including on religious matters, which are deemed sensitive,” Abdullah said.

Have you noticed how politicians and religious people -- especially if they are politicians masquerading as religious people -- always say one thing to the non-Muslims and another to the Muslims? When the Indians and Chinese start showing signs of restlessness, they will talk about multi-racial, multi-cultural tolerance and all such crap. But to an all-Malay or all-Muslim audience, when they think that the non-Malays or non-Muslims are not within earshot, they will talk about the ‘enemies’ of the Malays and warn us that the kafir can’t be trusted and can’t be taken as our friend because they are the millennium-old enemies of Islam.

These public displays of keris-waving are small potatoes. The non-Malays were meant to see that. They knew the TV cameras were on and that what they said and did was being beamed live, straight into the living rooms of Malaysians. But what they talk behind closed doors would make even our First Prime Minister and Bapa Merdeka, Tunku Abdul Rahman, who in his days was accused of being a Chinese running dog who sold out the Malays, turn in his grave. Yes, the Tunku was ousted because he ‘gave in’ too much to the Chinese. But it was in the Tunku’s days that Malaysia was most peaceful, until someone came out with the ‘bright’ idea of how to unite the Malays under a common cause.

Can I be so bold as to say that in the Tunku’s days, the Malays were less religious? Not a single Malay senior government officer’s home did not have a bar, well-stocked with beer, brandy, whisky and wine that would make any pub turn green with envy. That was during the Merdeka era when you could admire the lovely legs of Malay women and when bare-back knee-length skirts were the ‘in’ thing. Miss Malaysia would be a sweet, young, Malay, lass in a bikini who would give the Chinese and Indian girls a run for their money -- until Pan-Asian girls appeared on the scene of course. Then we mixed-breed Eurasians beat the panties off the thoroughbreds. Hidup Pan-Asian!

Fifty years on and we celebrate our fiftieth anniversary of Merdeka. By now the Malays have become more religious. No longer will you find any bar in Malay homes. The army no longer toasts with wine but with syrup. And even then toasting, a western custom, is frowned upon. No longer can you get drunk with NAFI beer at fifty cents a can. You have to pay RM15 a glass at a pub and a crate of two dozen cans would be unaffordable for most Malaysians today.

But that is good. Malays have discarded their jahiliyah days or era of ignorance. Malays are now more Islamic. And Malays are told that we must not celebrate Christmas or wish the Chinese or Indians Kong Hee Fatt Choy or Happy Deepavali as this goes against Islamic teachings. Why, therefore, is Prime Minister Abdullah Ahmad Badawi saying what he said, as reported by the mainstream media? Does he not know what he is saying goes against what Islam stands for, at least according to what the religious people tell us? Or is this a case of saying one thing to the non-Muslims and another to the Muslims? I suppose this is what politics is all about. You have to tailor your statements to suit the audience. And what Abdullah said was meant for the non-Malay ears, not for the Malays.

They say everyone goes through various stages of changes in their life and I suppose I am no exception. If I was asked to sum up my different stages of change, I would probably divide my life into three parts. The first part, the first 27 years of my life, would be what Malays (and Muslims as well) would call the jahil (ignorant) stage. That was when I did not pray, never for one minute stopped to think about God, drank beer, played Gin Rummy, and indulged in all form and manner of ‘sin’ that you can think of. Somehow, the consumption of pork was never one of those ‘sins’ though, for whatever reason I still can’t figure out until today.

When I touched 27 or 28, I suddenly ‘saw the light’ and became a ‘born-again’ Muslim. I used to jokingly tell my friends I was never born a Muslim but masuk Islam (converted to Islam) at the age of 27. From then on, I ‘fast-forward’ to catch up on all that I had missed the first 27 years of my life. I went to Mekah ten times or so, twice for the Haj and the rest for my Umrah (small Haj). I sat down and started reading the Quran and within a few weeks was able to rattle away like one who had learnt to read the Quran at the age of five. Even my Tok Guru was surprised. He said it normally take months or maybe even years for ‘old’ people whose brain had already beku (frozen) to read the Quran. I was able to do it in a matter of weeks. I bought the entire nine volumes of Hamka’s Quran translation and nine volumes of Hadith Bukhari plus Imam Ghazali’s kitab which I read over and over again until I was able to quote from memory.

That was all just before the Iranian Islamic Revolution and I was smitten. During my first trip to Mekah to perform the Haj, I joined an Iranian anti-Saudi demonstration and proudly carried a giant poster of Imam Khomeni high above my head. I wanted the Saudi government to be toppled and the two Holy cities of Mekah and Medina to be governed by an international Islamic coalition a la the Vatican City. I was slightly over 30 then and an Islamic revolutionary to the core.

I became the Chairman of our local mosque and set about ‘freeing’ all the mosques from government control. I helped raise funds to develop as many independent mosques as possible so that we could keep the Religious Department out of these mosques. Some of you probably remember the dua imam (two imams) episodes rampant in the State of Terengganu in those days. Datuk Yusof, the Terengganu head of the Special Branch (KCK), picked me up and brought me to meet the Terengganu Menteri Besar so that they could ‘rehabilitate’ me. They actually wanted to detain me under the Internal Security Act but there was this small complication concerning my father’s cousin (Emak Sepupu) who was the then Tengku Ampuan Terengganu. The Tengku Ampuan Terengganu was sister to the late Agong, the Sultan of Selangor, so they had to handle me with kid gloves.

Yes, I was a problem for Umno Terengganu and they would have liked to lock me away but my palace ‘immunity’ made this impossible. Anyway, eventually I left Terengganu and that sort of solved the whole thing. Five years later, Terengganu fell to the PAS-led opposition, so it really did not matter anymore, anyway.

That, in a nutshell, would be how I would describe the second 27 years of my life, phase two, and now I am in phase three, the third 27 years of my life. Of course, I really do not think I will live another 27 years or else I will live to a ripe old age of 81. No doubt Tun Dr Mahathir is still very much alive and kicking way past 81. But then Tun does not smoke, does not sleep at 3.00am, does not survive with a mere five hours sleep every night, is very careful with his diet, and much more. In short, I do everything opposite of what Tun does, so I do not hold the fallacy that I can live as long as he has thus far.

But that is not the issue. Whether phase three will be another 27 years like phases one and two is not what I want to talk about. What I do want to discuss is what I am going through in this phase three.

As I said, my first 27 years of phase one was the jahil period, and the second 27 years of what I call phase two, the Iranian Islamic Revolution period, my ‘enlightenment’ period. Phase three, however, appears to be my questioning and doubting period, which is giving rise to my disillusionment period.

I accept that I was like one of those lost sheep during phase one. Then I thought I had discovered the truth and saw the light in phase two. But now, in phase three, I am beginning to question this co-called truth. I am beginning to doubt that this was really the truth as I originally thought it was. I am beginning to become disillusioned with what I originally perceived as the truth.

Religion is supposed to be good, not only Islam, but any religion for that matter. And that is what I went through during phase two, discovering religion. But if religion is good, then why are religious people bad? Why is it when I meet unreligious people or atheists, I see good people? And why when I meet orthodox religious people, I see bad people? Yes, that is what has been nagging me in this phase three of my life. If religion is good, then religious people should be good and unreligious people or atheists should be bad. But why is it the other way around? And this does not apply to only Muslims.

I gave a talk to a group of pro-Abdullah Ahmad Badawi Umno people a few weeks ago. In that crowd was one whom I would classify as an ultra-religious person. When I pointed out that corruption is bad and that we must oppose it, he replied that corruption is okay. I then argued that Islam says that corruption is Riba’ (usury) and that there are 80 levels of Riba’ and that the sin for the lowest level is equivalent to the sin of sexual intercourse with one’s own parent. He agreed and said that this is actually one of the sayings (hadith) of the Prophet Muhammad.

I was flabbergasted. There I had before me a religious man. He was preaching to me and saying that the present secular system of government has to be rejected in favour of an Islamic system. He blames the ills facing this nation on the fact that we have turned our backs on Islam and chose instead a western secular system over the Islamic system as prescribed by the Prophet Muhammad. But corruption is okay, he argued.

If even just one Muslim were to leave Islam and become a Hindu, Christian or Buddhist, then it is the duty of all Muslims to violently oppose this. Apostasy is forbidden and the prescribed punishment is death. And Muslims must run riot on the streets and burn buildings and kill people if anyone tries to leave Islam. No Muslim worth his salt will disagree with this. This is not violence, this is not extremism, this is not a threat to national security; this is defending the dignity of Islam. But if you march peacefully to the Agong’s palace or to Parliament to hand over a Memorandum, this is not allowed. The police must arrest you, beat you up, and the leaders or organisers must be detained without trial under the Internal Security Act. This is what Islam asks us to do and is mandatory.

Ask any Malay-Muslim leader. Ask any imam in the mosque. Ask any Mufti. Ask any Religious Department official. Ask anyone from Pusat Islam. None will disagree that the peaceful marchers need to be dealt with harshly and detained without trial under the Internal Security Act. And none of these same people will disagree that apostates need to be dealt with harshly and rioting, and burning buildings, and killing people are necessary in defending the dignity of Islam.

Most of the police are Muslims, but they act violently towards peaceful marchers. Most of the government leaders are Muslims, but they act harshly towards peaceful marchers. And they say that they do this to preserve the peace, which is required by Islam. But if you ‘insult’ Islam or try to become an apostate, then you must accept the violent punishment. And this is not violence or harsh or a threat to national security. This is defending the dignity of Islam. And corruption is okay. Cheating in the elections is okay. Abuse of power and authority is okay. Wastage of public funds is okay. Denying you your fundamental rights is okay. Using the mainstream media to lie is okay. Threatening the non-Malays is okay. Persecution is okay. Detention without trial is okay. Assaulting detainees under police custody is okay. Just do not insult Islam or try to leave Islam. That is not okay and the use of violence to oppose this is also okay.

I see religious people and I see bad people. I see unreligious people and atheists and I see good people. How can religion be good if religious people are bad? How can religion be from God if the product of religion is bad people? Yes, that is what troubles me this third phase of the 27 years of my life.

The more people pray, the worse they become. People who never pray are wonderful people. How can this be? Police officers pray. Government leaders pray. But they are terrible people. There must be something terribly wrong with praying. Is religion merely a scam? How can religion be right when those who profess religion are so wrong?

Sure, I have heard the old argument time and time again. There is nothing wrong with religion. It is the people who are wrong for not following what the religion really teaches us. But why? That still does not explain it. Why is it people who are religious become so bad? Is religion not supposed to guide us to become good? If religion has failed to turn us into good people then surely religion and not people is what is wrong. There is another old saying: there is no such thing as bad students, only bad teachers. If students turn out bad then the teacher has to be blamed. In that case, would not this same argument apply? If religion has failed to educate us then the teacher and not the student has to be blamed.

Sigh….the third phase of my life, the third 27 years, is going to be very traumatic indeed. The first 27 years were easy. I just enjoyed my life. I lived for today and to hell with tomorrow. The second 27 years were also very satisfying. I lived for my religion. Everything I did I did for Islam. But this third 27 years is going to be an endless journey for me. And I may never reach my destination because I am not confident I will live another 27 years. I need to find out whether religions really exist or whether they are mere human inventions and old wives tales. Fruit from a poisonous tree will always be poisonous. It can never be any other way. And the fruit from a good religion must certainly be goodness. It can never be any other way. But that does not seem to be what is happening here.

Today, we are told that Muslims support detention without trial. Today, we are told that 1.5 million Malays from 395 Malay NGOs support the government in its use of the Internal Security Act against peaceful marchers. Many are angry that those 31 from HINDRAF are not going to be tried for attempted murder after all. They want blood. They want the blood of the BERSIH and HINDRAF marchers. They want the blood of those who merely exercised their God-given right of free expression. These 1.5 million Malays are followers of a good religion. They say only Islam is good, all other religions are bad. And those with no religion whatsoever or atheists are even worse. But these people from the good religion want the government to do bad things. That is what troubles me to no end. How can a good religion make people want to be bad?

Pre-Christmas Tiger Gathering At Sid's Pub, Taman Tun Dr Ismail

I received this sms on Wednesday, 19th December from my good friend, CA who was in London at the time:

“Pre Xmas drinks this Friday at pub of ur choice? Get e gang together”

It may appear like an ordinary message to most but to me, it meant the world....the world of the Taiping Tigers! Here was a Tiger, halfway around the globe sending a message to a fellow Tiger (who is not a Christian), suggesting the latter organize a pre-Christmas session at a pub. What also makes this remarkable is that CA was back in town by the 20th and he celebrated Hari Raya Haji with his god and family in full tradition of the occasion.

Tiger KC Heah suggested Sid's Pub in TTDI and since I knew those most likely to attend are PJwallahs, I confirmed the venue and time.

Sid's Pub turned out to be an excellent choice. Set up as a traditional English pub with the Tudor interior, the chalk board displays, and pub fare, it was replete with a Henry the VIII caricature logo. The place also had Guinness on tap but most delectable of all, it served sausages from Jarrod & Rawlins! Well done KC!

The pork sausages presented an interesting scenario that makes the Taiping Tigers special. Even when we were among Muslim friends we had no qualms about ordering pork. At one point there was a plate of pork sausages and another of chicken sausages. The Muslims did not deprive the non-Muslims of their pork and did not mind having the pork sausages near the plate of chicken ones. The non-Muslims automatically used forks to eat the chicken and used fingers for the pork; no "contamination"! That is how we respect each other; that is how we grew up.

To top it off as a truly Bangsa Malaysia occassion, Tiger Mike Naser brought two bottles of his special homemade sambal belacan which we ate with toasted bread. That must have been a sight (and smell) for the other patrons there!

Tigers present last night were CA, Mike Naser, KC Heah, Suet Fun, Fabian Lai and classmate whose name I do not recall, Mariappan, Patmanathan, Elizabeth, Harjit and Susan; Bangsa Malaysia everyone.

Photo quality low because of phone cam.