Like student once again

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of being a student once again. Actually, it has been the case for slightly more than 2 weeks now. I had an exam yesterday and in the last couple of weeks, I have been frantically doing last minute revision studying.

Waiting outside the exam hall, the whole scenario just brought back the good ‘ol memories. Congregated at one corner were those who continued to dig into the reading materials, as though these are results changing reading. At the other end of the spectrum are those who sat down looking cool without reading thing.

I sat with the latter as I don’t believe in stressing yourself before the exam.

And of course, one of the reasons I don’t do such last minute reading is – it was an open book exam.

Speaking of which, the girl sitting in front of me came with a cabin-size luggage. A. Cabin-size. Luggage! Emerging from her luggage were stacks of reading materials, 2 text books, 1 dictionary and a whole load of notes. And there I was, with 5 bundles of paper, which were essentially the given reading materials, nothing more.

As I was allocated a seat right at the back, I managed to catch a good view of the other candidates. Not trying to sexist here but generally (focus on the word “generally”), the guys will just have the study materials folder like I did while the girls will bring their whole study room to the exam hall.

When I was in university, the guys will come together and organise the next football session. The girls will congregate and started comparing their answers and then proclaim to everyone that they might fail.

It would appear that evolution has failed to penetrate this segment of the human species.

As soon as we were released, the first thing that the girl in front of me said to her friend was …”I didn’t finish the questions, I think I will fail.

As I head to the toilet, the guys inside there were arranging their lunch appointment.

Outside the male toilet, there was a long queue outside the female toilet. While waiting, some were frantically comparing answers and debating who is wrong and who is right. Then I heard one of them said… “I think we are both wrong, sure fail lah”.

Some things really never change.



1 year ago… An unexpected apology

2 years ago… A glimpse on my childhood

3 years ago… Chronicles of morons

If you think you are better and smarter than your parents

Midway through my teens, I had this belief. At that time, I strongly believed that my parents were very blessed to have me as a son. It was a very proud mentality, not exactly a good thing.

My parents were illiterate. I was told that my dad kept failing when he was in school while my Mom never got to school at all. And, they do not know how to play any musical instruments or engage in any sporting activities. Worse, they seem to be very simple minded and have a vision for the future.

I have always been doing quite well in my studies while in primary school. Midway though my secondary school and having joined Boys’ Brigade, I found myself somewhat thriving in studies, picking up music, dancing, singing and playing sports at a reasonable level.

Hence, I can’t help but compare myself to my parents. It got me thinking, and pride took over me. Worse, my foolish pride even prompted me to tell my parents that they must really give thank to God for having a son like me for I excel in so many things and they didn’t.

I was wrong…

My Mom came to KL for an arranged marriage with my dad knowing only the Hokkien dialect. Her cooking knowledge was limited. But she picked up Cantonese at a rapid rate. Her cooking improved tremendously and for a good 5 – 8 years before she passed away, she was able to speak, read and write Mandarin. She did all that, without any classes or tutors.

How many of us can do that? Have you heard of “bananas” who just insist that they will never be able to pick up any Chinese dialect?

The writings were on the wall. My Mom had incredible learning abilities. Given the opportunity to take up a musical instrument or a sport, I do not doubt she will be able to play them well.

My Dad though, isn’t exactly very academically sound. But I have witnessed him doing rather complex calculations to arrive at materials needed for his tailoring business in a flash. All he needed to do was to remove his specs and stared into this air for a few seconds… voila, the calculation was done. Similar to my Mom, he didn’t have any formal education. Also, my Dad is quite a singer.

Putting all the pieces into the puzzle made me realise I was never the wonderful gift from heaven whom I thought I was. Not to say I have wonderful genes, but the portion of good genes I have did magically appeared from thin air, they were all from my parents.

The only difference is that I was given the opportunity to utilise whatever genetic ability that I inherited from my parents (though I had to lie to do some). I was in the better environment and had the right platform to achieve it.

My parents though, were not so fortunate. They were poor when they were young. They never had the time, and certainly did not have the money to do what I did when I was young. Their lives were limited by the evil human creation called “money”.

So the next time you think you are better and smarter than your parents, think again.


1 year ago… Losing the migration blues… It’s not corruption… Most disheartening

2 years ago… Of alone and lonely

3 years ago… Find the buck over the weekend

That lie I told

Was talking to someone about childhood today. It’s always good to talk about childhood regardless of whether it was good or bad, the reminiscent of our early days always bring a smile.

Talking about it reminded me of one lie I told my parents, a lie that changed my life forever.

When I was in primary school, I wanted to join scouts. But my parents never agree. They just refuse to let me join. I think they believe that I was just looking for reasons to get out of the house. And probably, they were worried that it will be a financial burden.

When I reached secondary school, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to join an organisation called Boys’ Brigade. And so, I leveraged on the one fear my parents had… the authorities.

I told them that in order for me to stay in school, it is a rule that I join a uniform organisation. If I don’t, I will be kicked out of school. And if I am kicked out of school, it will be against the law and they will be in trouble.

My parents are not educated people, they bought it; and I joined the Boys’ Brigade.

It was there that I learned how to play sports, sing, dance, learned about God, swim, be in a band, camp, leadership, how to be independent… It made me who I am today, which isn’t exactly a bad thing. I also made some really good friends who are now my close buddies.

Yeah, I lied… and I am not exactly proud that I did that to my parents. But then again, that was probably the best lie ever told. I am sure my parents wouldn’t mind.

Ever told such lie(s)?


3 years ago… Some of Mom’s wishes

Pants

For guys doing desk bound job, how often do you wash your pants? Everyday? Every other day? Once a week?

I know guys who wash their pants on a daily basis. This also means they have quite a big collection of pants to accommodate daily change. Not me though. I think many would consider me as “dirty”. I only wash my pants once a week, sometimes… once a fortnight. Dirty? Unhygienic? Maybe…

Ya’ know, this thing called “washing machine” never existed in my house until I was 16. It means my Mom washed all our clothes with her bare hands for 15 years.

Can you imagine washing pants with your bare hands? Those scrubbing and then having to rinse away the washing detergent, I have witnessed it with my eyes. That green school pants that we guys used to wear are pretty heavy when they’re wet. Did I mention jeans?

Initially, it was like an instruction from my Mom not to dump our pants into the laundry basket every other day. As time goes by, I think we just decided not to wash our pants all the time. After a while, washing pants on a weekly or fortnightly basis became a habit, a routine, a lifestyle.

Although the washing job now belongs to the washing machine and has been for many years now, I still find it strange to dump my pants into the laundry basket after a few days. Sending it to wash after a day is definitely not an option. Of course, if the pants are dirty due to spillage of food, etc., that’s another matter altogether.

Though Mom is no longer around, she reappears in my mind every time I send my pants for washing. And today, I remember the times when my pants were washed by the bare hands of my Mom.

How often do you wash your pants?


1 year ago… The change I seek

3 years ago… Dear Mommy… Farewell… It was not meant to be a surprise… A 2nd chance with Mom

Always in memory

Never forgotten

Wonderful Mom

Left March 2007

Anyone know what fruit this is?

I think the first time I had it was when I was 13, the year I joined the Boys’ Brigade. We have this place that we call “Rock Garden”, and the tree is located there.


After school, or during our limited Boys’ Brigade break time, we will be on the look out for it. Some are within a jump’s reach while some require a certain amount of climbing before you can lay your hands on it.

Those located high up are not spared. To us, they are just a shoe’s throw away. Oh yes, we were quite accurate in our throwing too. One throw sometimes gave us up to 3 fruits! Though they dropped on the road, we never wash them. Just a wipe on our sleeve and we’ll eat it. Those days, hygiene is not priority.

Its diameter is about the size of a 50 cents coin. Inside the fruit is a brownish seed that’s inedible. Remove the seed, and the whole fruit will down into our mouth. If we managed to get those that have ripened to light yellowish in colour, its sweetness is heavenly.

Till today, my friends and I who have eaten this fruit have never seen it anywhere in the market. It would appear that they only tree bearing this fruit is located in Rock Garden, a stone throw from my school.

They are going to tear down the place though, to make way for a huge multipurpose hall. It’s a project by the church. Ya’ know, churches are very fond with mega structures nowadays.

Hence, I am interested to know. Has anyone seen or eaten this fruit before? Any idea what it is called?

Reflecting this CNY

Since the passing of my grandmother slightly less than a decade ago, I have always had the impression that my 3rd aunt is the most traditional person in the family. She is a spinster who stays with us, and has been dictating how things should be done in family when it comes to Chinese practices.

Having now spent the 3rd Chinese New Year without my Mom, I think my impression may be inaccurate…

My 1st CNY after the passing of Mom was spent in London, on secondment. Nothing much can be done about that. Strange though, the 2nd and the recent 3rd CNY spent without Mom, there was absolutely no emphasis placed on the CNY eve reunion dinner. My aunt didn’t seem to “enforce” it that much.

We also have this tradition of “hoi lin” (commencing of the new year), which falls on the second day of CNY where again, everyone has to be around for brunch. It is a significant event for my family. However, this tradition seems to have lost its fang this CNY and the last. My aunt doesn’t seem care much if everyone is around for brunch that signifies the commencement of a new year.

Rewind the lunar calendar a little, and we have the “Tung” festival, the one where chinese make “tong yuen” (those little rice balls in sweet ginger soup). I have always been thought that “tung dai go lin”, which means “Tung” festival is actually more important than CNY. I have never been home for dinner during “Tung” since my Mom passed away…

Reflecting all these made me realise that my Mom was the driving force behind all the traditions, not my aunt. Considering that my Mom came from a Malay village (she’s Chinese) and she didn’t speak much Cantonese or eat much pork when she arrived at KL, she must have taken a lot of effort to do all that.

The 15th day of CNY, the “Chap Goh Meh” is another date where being home for dinner is of great importance, or so it used to be. My aunt’s reply to me when I asked about it was “Up to you ler”… I think the least I can do is to make sure that this dinner happens, as it used to be…


1 year ago… You better give yourself a choice before…

2 years ago… Absolute bolehness

3 years ago… A Chinese New Year missing

A very powerful moment

I think I was still in Form 1, which means; ages ago. I had to go to my classmate’s house to discuss on some project work, probably Geography or Science. I can’t remember.

As I got down from the bus, I took the usual path to his house. His house was located rather deep into the residential area. Hence, it was a good 10 – 15 minutes walk.

It was not my first time going to his house, but something extra showed up that day. As I took a turn at one particular junction, that’s when I saw it… a very fierce looking German Sheppard. I can still remember that sound… that growl… and then, it started to bark…

The don’t-run-when-you-see-a-dog just didn’t apply to me then. I ran. And instinct made me ran towards my friend’s house. Yes, the dog gave chase and I was very sure it will take piece off me, literally.

As I reached my friend’s house, the usual locked gate was the difference between safety and much pain. Till today, I didn’t know how I did it but I did. I jumped across the gate. I was 13 and not exactly short. Having jumped over, then only I realised that the gate was at my shoulder level.

My friend came out and astonished to find me inside his compound. He asked me to do it again but I just can’t. But at that crucial moment… being chased by a dog, that adrenaline just powered me across the gate.

Have you had such “powerful” moment before?


1 year ago… The Bau-Thai experience

2 years ago… What’s with the awareness fuss?… When our instincts fail

3 years ago… How was your weekend?… Guess the tail of these tales

Chicken Ass

It should be about 15 years ago. It was dinner time in a camp. As 10 people filled the table, dinner was served. There was a roasted chicken, some vegetables, a tofu and a soup. With a table full of hungry boys after tiring workouts, food finished in a flash. A piece remain though…

“Zewt, we saved that chicken backside for you…” my friend said…

Imagine the horror in their face when I picked that chicken ass up and stuff my face with the remnant of my rice like there is no tomorrow… I can still make up the look on their face.

Regular AZAIG readers will know that I was not born with a silver spoon. During my pre-teen days, dishes during dinner can be rather scarce.

I remember we used to have a relative who was a hawker and she will collect the chicken ass from her hawker business and give it to my family. My Mom will marinate those arses in 5-spice-powder and lam-yu (some kind of bean paste) and deep fried them. Like I said, dishes are hard to come by. So, deep fried marinated chicken ass is a treat for my family. Honestly, I still remember the taste and it’s pretty yummy!

I guess one can say that I grew up eating chicken ass. By the way, there are also some other strange dishes which I think not many of you will eat. But I ate them all. When you are young, hungry and life is tough, I don’t think one can be picky about food.

And this is probably why I get rather annoyed when I see some people being overly choosy about food. I-don’t-eat-this, I-don’t-eat-that, I-only-eat-breast-meat, I-only-eat-drumsticks… these people just haven’t experience having to eat tofu in soya sauce with rice as dinner.

As for now, I don’t think I will specifically order chicken ass but I will not go… “Ewww…!” at the sight of people eating it. And by blogging about this, I am not ashamed that it was once a treat for my family.

Will I eat it again? Well, if it’s marinated with 5-spice powder and lam-yu and deep fried just like how my Mom did it… why not?

Will you eat chicken ass?


1 year ago… The current hypocritical trend

A squid story

I first heard about it when I was in University. The guy who told me is the same person who told me about this “tragic” story. I have since heard similar stories from other people but whether it is true or otherwise, no one knows…

Ya’ see… fishermen go to see and spend quite a substantial amount of time there. I was told that it may be as long as weeks, or even more than a month. And ya’ know, spending time out in the sea for such a long period of time tends to result in extreme boredom and loneliness when fishermen are not actively engaging in fishing activities.

To entertain themselves, they smoke, joke and drink. But then again, they can’t be doing that all the time. So what else do they do?... They masturbate. And over time, masturbation went through evolution…

Apparently, the inside of squid resembles the female love canal. And so, it was said that fishermen use squid as a masturbation tool. Yup… they wrap their pole with a squid and do the up and down motion which produces the white lotion.

Have you heard of this before?
Is it true?
And… are you a squid lover?


1 year ago… A theory of 2 companies

2 years ago… A sight at the gym

Modern slavery anniversary reflection

Warning: Rather long read ahead…

I entered the modern slavery world exactly 9 years ago today. 3 years ago, on the exact same date, I joined my current company. Quite a unique incident, isn’t it?

I didn’t spend 6 years with my first employer though. I spent 5 years there, a time when I witnessed the collapsed of a major accounting firm which followed by a merger. Thereafter, I had a short stint in China and a 6 months break where I watched all world cup matches on that year before joining the company I am currently with.

Today marks the completion of my 9th year as a modern slave and due to the unique coincident, today also marks the completion of my 3rd year with my current employer. It has been a journey of many ups and downs, filled with extreme eye openers and a time where I was forced to feast on the hideous realities of the working life.

Overall, it has been an incredible learning experience…

I would term my initial 5 working years as a “Corporate Symbiosis” --- the company got me to work almost non-stop for a meagre salary while I ride on them to build my knowledge and experience reserves and finally able to put this so called “professional firm” in my CV. You scratch my back, I scratch yours kind of thing.

The collapsed of the company (some of you could guess which company is this already) and subsequently, a merger was my first eye opener to the reality of the corporate world. People being forced out, heavy dose of office politics, power struggle, people flexing their muscles in their territories… survival was the name of the game.

I still remember some antics of my ex colleagues during the first few weeks of the merger. It was really like a civil war. The battleground… pantry! It was a race to see who “conquers” the pantry first during lunch. Looking back, it was all so silly and to a certain extent… entertaining!

The decision to leave after 5 years was not easy, as I have already developed a comfort zone. Besides, I was resigning for the first time, from my first job, a lot of uncertainties. But it was something I had to do. My time as a cheap labour was over.

I then spent a short time in China earning USD, which then allowed me to spend 6 months as a leong-dei-goon (unemployed). I shall blog about this separately. It was another great eye opening experience.

There are many things that I do not like and do not agree with in the place I currently work in. However, this place has given me the platform to truly expand my career. Being part of an international conglomerate, I am able to see many things from an international perspective. One thing in particular, Malaysia is always viewed as a dumping ground… I shall let you interpret that yourself.

Being promoted to a level where I had to recruit an additional person for my team also gave me the opportunity to conduct interviews and… a quite fun experience…going through CVs. I find it absolutely astonishing that people can submit their CVs for managerial position in an international corporation with atrocious English. Do they seriously expect to get an interview?

Also, I was very surprise at the level of salary people are getting. I thought it was only applicable in my industry but after exchanging information with some of my friends within the human-resource industry, I found out that if you are earning above RM6,000 a month; you should be counting your blessings. It is a sad reflection of this country’s economic health.

The slavery and exploitation are still there, and they will always be there. Just that it is a bit toned down here. Despite all that, I must extend my gratitude to my current employer. Last year during the peak of my health scare, the company paid for it. Specialist consultations, x-rays, ultrasound scans, scope, CT scan, MRI, tests after tests… all in a private medical centre and I did not fork out a single cent.

Though I am thankful, I still believe that one should never fall in love in one’s company. A line should always be drawn between you and the company. Even if you don’t draw it, the line is already there; drawn by the company without your knowledge. And when the line is finally revealed to you, the situation is often brutal.

This is why I never refer to my employer as “my company”. Firstly, I don’t own it. But the more pertinent reason is because I am painfully aware of the fact that companies hide things from their employees. There will always be a servant and master relationship in the corporate world. Hence, it is not “my company”. I only refer to it as the-company-I-work-in, or something along that line.

Last but not least, let me conclude the reflection of my 9 years in the modern slavery corporate world with 3 points:-

Telling you boss that you are happy with your salary is the most stupid thing that you can ever say to your boss. Do note that I am speaking both as an employee and a boss. Be ready to kiss your increment goodbye if you do that. A simple smile, or a short yeah-it’s-ok should suffice when being asked about your satisfaction level towards your pay. The same goes to displaying your love towards your work.

Being good at your work will get you noticed. Getting things done will help you climb the ladder. But to really reach the top, the skill required is to get others who are good at their work to get things done for you. That is the formula to success. In short, one must make others slave for you to move up the slave food chain.

The saying “The head you step today may be the ass that you need kiss tomorrow” is viciously real. Fortunately though, I learned this notion in a pleasant manner as I am now the ass that needs to be kissed. I guess now, I have to be careful on the people I step on. Or, best not to step on anyone at all.

P/S: A lot of people asked me about the difference between working in a “professional firm” vs. working in a “commercial firm”. I suppose there will be another trilogy ahead…


1 year ago… Different breed, different reaction… Japan got hit

2 years ago… Let us be reminded… The price to drive

Imminent sleepless nights

Oh No… my brother just told me that my all time favourite computer game, Romance of the Three Kingdoms version XI is out. All these while, the game has only been in Mandarin but RTK XI is now in English.

I just managed to install the game yesterday. The graphics are pretty incredible. But the tutorial suggests that it will take a while before I get familiar with the game.

Liu Bei… Cao Cao… Sun Quan… it’s all coming back to me. I might just be spending endless hours in front of the screen just like when I was in school. Sleepless nights… here I come!

P/S: A very big thank you to Pattirmina for awarding me Uber Amazing Blog award. Wow, it has been a long while since anyone gave me any award. Many thanks!

One down, a few more to go...

This is probably one of those “hey, look what I did” kind of entry. Over the weekend, I had one of my dreams fulfilled…
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Singing a jazz piece together with a 3-piece band.

Next dream to be fulfilled… play together with a 3-piece band.

P/S: Have you voted your best Zewt Laugh yet??????

1 year ago… The young begins to hump… This is why the young humps

2 years ago… Of selling and barking

The principal that was

I remember the time when I was about to enter high secondary school. At that time, everyone was given the impression that we will be in for a tough time. No, it was not due to the new academic requirement. It was something else.

At that time, the principal of the secondary school was known to be a tough no-nonsense person. He was one who can be seen carrying the mighty sword a.k.a. the “rotan” whenever he did his patrol around the school. One can say that he ruled the school with an iron fist, or should I say… iron “rotan”, metaphorically speaking of course.

If you happen to be breaking school rules; and there were plenty by the way, and he happened to bump into you, your ass will immediately feel the fury.

His strict discipline regime was legendary. Besides successfully eradicating the rampant gangsterism in my school, he also transformed my school into a top STPM institution during his days. Other rules which student used to hate include the ever strict hair regulations. Students coming to school with long hair will probably go home wishing they were bald.

Oh yes, and who can forget the dreaded public caning. Speaking of caning, he instilled a peculiar culture into us. In other schools where public caning was practised, the victim will probably have to say “Sorry sir” after being punished. Not in my school though.

After administering the usual heavy dose of stinging feeling to the ass, the owner of that poor ass is to acknowledge the favour rendered to him by offering his gratitude. The words one must utter after the ordeal was not “Sorry sir” but rather… “Thank you sir”. I don’t know whether he reciprocates with a “You’re welcome” because I never got to “thank” him.

As they say… those were the days. Many feared him, more hated him. Most could not understand why he was so tough on us. I am very sure kids nowadays will never go through secondary school like I did.

But ya’ know what?

One day, I saw a peculiar name in the “people you might know” function in facebook. Wow! My ex-principal has a facebook account! Naturally, I added him. I also left a message on his facebook wall telling him the year I left school and how I was getting on with life. It was then that I began to read other messages on his wall…

Surprise would probably not be the right word to describe the feeling. There were messages after messages of former students, talking about how his strict regime has transformed their lives. Some talked about how they were forced out of gangsterism and are now reaping the rewards. Some talked about how they hated him but they now cherish the time when he was the principal. Some say they will never be who they are now if not because their ass-es have felt the fury of the “sword”.

I truly believe that no one who has gone through my secondary school will deny that Mr. Loh Kung Sing is a true educationist. Regardless of whether his cane has landed on our bottoms, students of my school will forever say… “Thank you, sir”.


1 year ago… When cost is not an issue

2 years ago… “Sam Jiu”… A professional mistake… Do you know why?

High what?

Did you notice something lately? Perhaps not lately, this new phenomena has been happening for a few years now. A classic example of this phenomenon is when you see an uploaded picture of boys in white shirt and dark blue pants or girls in pinafore and they labelled the photo as…

“My high school days” or “Me and my high school mates”

I don’t know about you but to me, “high school” is not the right term to refer Form 1 to Form 5. I have never referred to any of my school friends as “high school mates”. Based on my possibly out-dated understanding, schools for Standard 1 to Standard 6 are categorised as “Primary school” and those for Form 1 to Form 5 are categorised as “Secondary school”.

Unless one’s school’s name has got “high school” in it, such as Catholic High School, there isn’t exactly this thing called “high school” in Malaysia. Even that, it is still debatable as school name and schooling system are 2 separate elements.

So what exactly is “high school”? It is actually part of the school system in the US. I understand from my friends in the States that their schooling system mainly made up of:-

Elementary School (Kindergarten to 5th grade / age 5 – 11)
Middle School (6th to 8th grade / age 12 – 14)
High School (9th to 12th grade / age 15 – 18)

Here in Malaysia, we do not have “middle school” or “low school” and certainly, we do not have “high school”. What we have is primary and secondary school. Why then more and more people are referring to secondary school as “high school”?

A very good friend of mine said… “It is the westernised thinkers who refer to it, without basis, as high school”. I tend to agree. What about you?

At this juncture, some of you may say…”Zewt, what’s the fuss? It means the same thing”.

I will have to ask… do these “high school people” use that term to sincerely refer to the same thing or do they use as that term sounds more western… more cool? Besides, how are you going to refer to your first year in “high school”? 9th grade, or Form 1?


1 year ago… What’s with the awareness fuss? … when our instincts fail

2 years ago… The tail to the tales

One that has gone extinct

I am sure we all miss the fun of firecrackers. Without it, CNY seems to have lost part of its meaning. But it has been banned because of some morons who decided to play firecrackers at a different level. Because of them, we can no longer light our “bang bang bang”, not even those which are perfectly harmless.

Besides firecrackers, it just occurred to me that there is this particular fun tradition that has gone missing. This particular tradition is akin to those practised during Halloween, when kids dressing up in funny costumes and go around knocking on the door of their neighbours asking for “trick or treats”. They will usually be given candies.

Do you know that we have something similar for CNY…?

It’s usually done on the eve of CNY. When the clock strikes 12, you will get people knocking on your door and they will shout…. “Choy Sun Do!”. It simply means, the god of fortune has arrived. A piece of red paper will be pasted on your door with wonderful CNY greetings written on it. You are then to give these so called “Choy Sun” an ang-pow. Of course, these people do not dress up in funny costumes, just a plain red top will do.

I remember helping my Mom preparing ang-pows with RM1 or RM0,50 in preparation of these “Choy Suns” and I have always wanted to do that. I mean, who doesn’t want to go around asking for money by just shouting “Choy Sun Do!”. But my Mom reckoned it was not safe for me to run around the neighbourhood in the middle of the night.

I think this tradition went extinct when I hit my teens. I guess people don’t need that additional RM1 or RM0.50 anymore. Even if people are to do it now, I guess people will chase you away rather than giving you and-pow. But I think it would have been nice to keep this tradition going.

What do you think? Do you have any practises that have gone missing?

1 year ago… Experiencing Hillsong in London… The weekend gem… You pee, I pee, he pees, she pees

2 years ago… Beyond the smashes… Modern slavery – the beginning… The right motivation

Generation condemnation

I don’t think I came from a rich family and enjoyed a lavish childhood, but my Mom always seemed to think otherwise. She used to talk about how my siblings and me are so spoilt for we have the luxury of television and RM5 pocket money for a week during my primary school days.

Of course, I always disagree. When I go to school, I see some schoolmates whom I considered rich because I never had what is now an extinct gadget called “game and watch”. Remember those colourless gaming device such as “Western Bar”, “Battleship”, “Donkey Kong” and the likes?

As I progressed to college life, my Mom continued to nag about how fortunate I am that I can take bus to college while she can't even afford to have a bicycle. But as I looked around during that time, so many of my peers were already driving cars! And some of them were already carrying handphones, something me and most of my friends never had until we graduated.

Now that I am all grown up and has been in the modern slaves rank for a while now, I see how the younger generation having the time of their life and somehow, I feel that they are spoilt and pampered.

And ya’ know what? Friends of mine who had the privilege of driving during college days while most of us took bus or KTM Komuter and have probably changed 3 handphones when most of us were about to get our first are also of the opinion that the current younger generation is spoilt to their skin.

What does that tell you…?

My previous entry drew a healthy level of debate. Blogger CiNDi even dedicated an entry in reply to all who commented against the “younger generation”. But while she has her point, reading her rebuttals pointed out that she didn’t go through the hunky-dory childhood that most of people do. Something happened while she was young and I think it did her good.

No matter what, a generation will stand for their generation and somehow, the previous generation will condemn the next. Some may call it progression perhaps? Will people like CiNDi and EC grow up and comment the next generation? Perhaps… perhaps not… we shall see…

Having said that, I do believe that that working part time in whatever capacity while you are a student so that you have that additional pocket money to spend, whether to window shop, really shop or sipping what you think is a well deserved cup of Starbucks is still… no mater what… very different compared to people who work so that they can pay their mortgages, pay their bills and put food on the table for the family.

And that is something that most (please note the word MOST) of the younger generation will not understand until… they are no longer the younger generation…

Have you ever tried this before?

We were all 17, the year which most of us got our driving licences. I am sure many of you remember how it feels. The elation of being behind the wheel was quite sensational feeling. Calling out friends for “yum char” session at night is a norm while occasionally; most road newbies will head to Lorong Haji Taib to check out the transvestites.

But for me and my friends, we had other ideas…

While driving out at night is already quite a challenge, not many parents will allow their children to take the car out till the wee hours of the morning. But so happen, one of our friends had this liberty. And we will all cramped into this dad’s Iswara Aeroback (could be 6 or more) for our night adventure.

One one… well, actually a few nights… we headed to… the cemetery… Now, this cemetery is not the current expensive and modern type where there is vast land and there are proper roads going into its compound. The one we headed too is a typical Chinese cemetery by the hill where tombstones are located just by the driveway.

Try to imagine… 6 or more of us cramped into a car… those unfortunate souls sitting at the side have their faces literally plastered against the door windows. Can you imagine your face and the tombstones are merely a breath away? You can really see “their” portraits smiling at you. And may I remind you, it was right smack in the middle of the night.

That’s not all…

In this particular cemetery, the driveway heading into it can only fit 1 car. It means if you drive in, you have to drive all the way into the cemetery before you can come out on the other side of the hill. It’s what you call a … one way ticket.

As a risk control measure and to ensure that we can escape in the event of any “emergency”, we decided to… reverse in. Yes… put the gear to reverse and head into the cemetery with the backside first so if anything is to happen, the driver can switch to 1st gear and accelerate out immediately.

Yes, it’s reverse gear and 1st gear and 2nd gear… it’s a manual car. Can you imagine the feeling if the driver releases the clutch too fast and the engine died? And… the car refuse to start? Honestly… never crossed out mind.

And one more thing… when the car is reversing in, everyone except those sitting at the side were looking towards the back, nobody was looking at what is in front of the car. Halfway through…

“Eh, mo yan mong chin min meh?” (No one looking in front?)
“Lei mong lah..” (You look lah)
“Huh, lei mong lah” (Huh, you look lah)
“Wan go yan mong chin min, fai tit!” (Quickly get someone to look in front!)

No one did. Well, probably there’s nothing in front anyway, right?

Nothing ever happened though it was quite spooky. Looking bad and consider the ‘what ifs’… what if the engine did die and unable to start when we are in the middle of nowhere! That would have been something.

Tried anything like this before?

Heading to Melaka this weekend and probably going to eat myself silly in Jonkers Street Bazaar.

Have a good break all of you and to all AZAIG Hindu readers… Happy Deepavali!

Between myth and truth

I grew up in quite a traditional Chinese family and my Mom was one who goes by the book very closely. Many will know that most Chinese are also a superstitious bunch. We have many rituals and taboo, things you are not supposed to do at a particular time, age or place.

I would consider most of these practices as myth. One that comes to mind is this instructions where we are not suppose to cut our nails at night, lest we want a lot of people talking behind our back. Have you heard of this before? I don’t know about you but to me, I find this to be a myth. Please let me know if this has been proven to be correct.

However, there are a few practises that I find it difficult to discern whether they are proven ancient discoveries, or purely myths. Most of these practises are usually medically driven.

And they are…

One should not rice if you have fever. I understand this is widely practised. When I was young, I somewhat found this to be true. When I was recovering from fever and decided to have some rice, the fever mysteriously returned. Any doctor wants to provide a medical connection in this?

One should not drink soup if you have flu. Again, I think there is no medical connection between the 2 but I understand this is also another widely practised lifestyle amongst Chinese. Any mothers out there still practising this?

One should not eat egg if you have a sore throat. Apparently egg is considered ‘tuk’, meaning ‘toxic’ but not one which will kill you; just bad enough to cause it to worsen. I remember this very clearly as my throat has not been good since I was young. Anyone with me on this?

One should not have cold drinks or ice-cream when one is having a cough. I believe this is one of the most common practises amongst Chinese. I personally find this to be very true. If you are having a cough, the moment you down an ice-cold coke, the cough will come almost immediately. But then again, ask any western medical practitioner and they will probably tell you there is no connection between the 2. Or is there?

I have just mentioned a few and I am sure there are many out there where they border between medical truth and ancient beliefs. But there is one which is quite mind boggling. It is a very strict practise amongst Chinese, and even in other races but to the western world, this is practise is virtually non-existent.

What I am talking about is… …. confinement. For those who are not familiar with confinement, it is a time (usually a month) after a mother has given birth to her child and she is supposed to stay in-door and observe a very strict military like ‘protection’. This is a time where the mother is supposed to wrap herself all the time to guard against ‘wind’ and she is eat a lot (and I mean a whole lot) of ginger to ensure there is no ‘wind’ inside her. Taking a shower during confinement is a privilege.

My Mom said the body of a mother is at its weakest during that time and thus, one has to protect herself or else, she might have to face the repercussions later on in life. My Mom was unfortunate enough to fall sick during one of her confinement and according to her, that is why she has been weak and not healthy all her life.

But then again, there was this English couple in my church where she brought her baby to church within days after delivering and the mother was happily worship God in an air-conditioned environment. Mind you, that was her second child. And I also understand that most westerners do the same.

Do you find them anything less healthy towards the end of their lives? I have yet to be enlightened.

Wrong and again I was wrong

When I was in standard 6, I thought getting anything less than straight As in UPSR would spell the end of the world for me. I got straight As and entered into a random class in Form 1. I reckon I would have been who I am today even if I got all Bs. I guess I was wrong about the end of the world.

When I was in Form 3, I thought getting anything less than straight As in PMR would spell the end of the world for me. I was wrong… Though I got all As except for 1 subject, my life didn’t end. I still managed to do what I want in Form 4 and Form 5. I guess I was wrong about the end of the world…

When I was in Form 5, I came into realisation that results are not everything so I only targeted several distinctions in SPM. True enough, I got the distinctions in exactly the subjects I wanted. I was very happy. But I think I would have felt the same if my results were something else. Of course, I don’t expect to fail.

When I was in college, I thought getting into a recognised university is all that matters. Getting into a crappy one would spell the end of the world for me. I got into a rather crappy university due to financial restrictions. I thought I would lose out to those who entered into prestigious university. Looking at myself now, I don’t see me anything less than some of those who were fortunate enough to enter top grade universities. I guess I was wrong… again.
When I was in university, I thought getting anything less than a second-upper-class honours would spell the end of the world for me. I did get my second-upper-class honours. But at the same time, I see some of my friends who didn’t do as well while in university but ended up doing much better than me now. I guess I was wrong… again.

After graduating, I thought getting into the Big 4 (then Big 5) accounting firm would guarantee me a bright future. I got into one of them, only to find out that life was hell. But I persevered, as I still believed then that it would do me good. Am I reaping the reward and am I in the bright future I thought I would be now? Perhaps… perhaps not. But since some of my friends are doing much better than me though they didn’t slog it through the Big 4, I guess I could have been wrong… again…

I spent my 20s building my career believing that career is what will guarantee me a good life. But once I hit 30, I realised health is the utmost important thing in life. Without health, good life is virtually impossible. Again, I was wrong…

Someone once told me that any man at his dying bed would never wish that he had spent more time at his work-desk. But most of the time, that dying man tends to have spent too much time at his work and too little time with his family. I hope I won’t be saying “I am wrong once again” in heaven…

On hindsight, the dying man in question must be anyone but Chinese.

Have you been wrong before?