52 Years of Independence

The country celebrates its Independence Day today, 52 years of nationhood after centuries under the rule of the Portuguese, Dutch, and of the British. It's really nice to see and reflect upon; the fact that the country is made up of not only a type of people, but many different races. Another thing is that we speak more than one language and we don't have to attend classes to be able to master them. And then there's the food. Scrumptious selection of food.

Although unity is the keyword, we've had our share of racial riots and tension. And we have communal-hero-wannabe politicians playing up racial issues. When we thought we'd be known by one name, we're given designations like Malay, Indian, Chinese and Others. In neighbouring Indonesia, they have over 30 ethnics/race yet they go around by the name Indonesians.

I've said before that unity isn't a yearly affair nor is it scripted for the silver screen. No doubt, we have some true Malaysians trying to send the message home via their short films and commercials and I don't have any problems with that. In fact, I love them and almost always touched by them, moved to tears if you like. What I'm saying when I mention silver screen and scripted in the same sentence is that we have, on one hand, politicians (sigh, again) preaching unity during some ceremonies and on the other hand sow mistrust among the people. And they have the cheek to promote the country to the world. Shame. I wouldn't invite guests to my house if I haven't tidied up.

Yes, it was a proud moment for everyone when the first Prime Minister, Tunku Abdul Rahman, proclaimed the nation's independence although I only see it in black and white clips (so I couldn't say I comprehend the whole affair fully) but are we really truly independent in the sense that we're able to self-rule and not model everything after our colonial masters? If the British employed the divide and rule strategy back then, I don't dare say we're a homogeneous society today. I don't believe that leaders of the same colour only represent their own i.e. Malay leader ensuring the rights of the Malay, the Chinese their own and the Indians too. If one is able, who cares if you're of a different hue?

Aren't there still outdated (or archaic) laws being used today? What was created yesterday for a specific purpose being used to silence the voice of dissent today. Sovereign state yes, but it seems that we're mentally shackled. Unable to make our own decisions, unable to make known what we truly wanted.

To sum it up, 52 years is a relatively long time and yet short if compared to other nations. In some ways, we can be proud of our differences but in others, it's a sad affair to see how we're still identified based on our colour and creed. The government uses the various laws to detain men and women perceived to be a threat to the nation's security / stability yet no real measures are taken to promote greater unity. Lots of speeches but no real actions. They preach tolerance but I wish to say that acceptance is the better word. No?

EVERY DAY, there is sure to be at least one news article about racism – be it to “remind” the nation to live in harmony, or a report about disrespectful behaviour towards another religion...

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Happy Independence Day!

Penny

I read forwarded mails whenever I get them. The whole week being a rather slow one, and how restless everything and everyone seem, do get me down somewhat. Clicked on it and "Hey, it's nice. A change from the usual cute Photoshop-ed piccies." Lengthy, but what the heck. I've left this space for a long time already. Here goes.

You always hear the usual stories of pennies on the sidewalk being good luck, gifts from angels, etc. This is the first time I've ever heard this twist on the story. Gives you something to think about.

Several years ago, a friend of mine and her husband were invited to spend the weekend at the home of her husband's employer.
My friend, Arlene, was nervous about the weekend. The boss was very wealthy, with a fine home on the waterway, and cars costing more than her house.

The first day and evening went well, and Arlene was delighted to have this rare glimpse into how the very wealthy live. Her husband's employer was quite generous as a host, and took them to the finest restaurants. Arlene knew she would never have the opportunity to indulge in this kind of extravagance again, so was enjoying herself immensely

As the three of them were about to enter an exclusive restaurant one evening, the boss was walking slightly ahead of Arlene and her husband.
He stopped suddenly, looking down on the pavement for a long, silent moment.
Arlene wondered if she was supposed to pass him. There was nothing on the ground except a single darkened penny that someone had dropped, and a few cigarette butts. Still silent, the man reached down and picked up the penny.
He held it up and smiled, then put it in his pocket as if he had found a great treasure.
How absurd! What need did this man have for a single penny? Why would he even take the time to stop and pick it up?

Throughout dinner, the entire scene nagged at her. Finally, she could stand it no longer. She casually mentioned that her daughter once had a coin collection, and asked if the penny he had found had been of some value.

A smile crept across the man's face as he reached into his pocket for the penny and held it out for her to see. She had seen many pennies before! What was the point of this?

"Look at it," he said. "Read what it says."
She read the words, " United States of America ."

"No, not that. Read further."

"One cent?"
"No, keep reading."

"In God we Trust?"
"Yes!"
"And?. . ."

"And if I trust in God, the name of God is holy, even on a coin. Whenever I find a coin, I see that inscription. It is written on every single United States coin, but we never seem to notice it! God drops a message right in front of me telling me to trust Him. Who am I to pass it by? When I see a coin, I pray. I stop to see if my trust IS in God at that moment. I pick the coin up as a response to God; that I do trust in Him. For a short time, at least, I cherish it as if it were gold. I think it is God's way of starting a conversation with me. Lucky for me, God is patient and pennies are plentiful!"

When I was out shopping today, I found a penny on the sidewalk. I stopped and picked it up, and realized that I had been worrying and fretting in my mind about things I cannot change. I read the words, "In God We Trust," and had to laugh. "Yes, God, I get the message!"

It seems that I have been finding an inordinate number of pennies in the last few months, but then, pennies are plentiful! And, God is patient.

Stories from My Mother

Apart from the usual 1960s childhood experience and stories from the Bible, I remembered when mum spoke to me about her experience breast-feeding me. How I prefer formula to breast milk and how I'd turn away after a moment's suckle. I guess she must have felt how I was feeling when I cuddled a baby.

I don't remember anything up until the time I was watching Thundercats (that's besides the point) but I know that I was close to her during my growing up years - toddler, adolescent. Then it's like a continental drift (was it 3 cm a year?) between us; not sure what happened though. Maybe I know but prefer keeping it under wraps.

Was the lack of eye contact to be blamed for this rickety relationship? If anyone is wondering where do eye contact fit into the picture then allow me to enlighten (if you don't already know) you from what I'd picked up from Developmental Psychology lectures: That the distance (about 9 inches) when the baby is suckling i.e. being breastfed by the mother is the distance at which the infant can best focus. It seems that eye contact is important to build that connection between mother and infant. That was reinforced by findings that mothers of blind infants express difficulty in feeling the closeness with their infant (Paton & Brown, 1991).

Guess mother had something, possibly some strong stuff during her confinement period, which came up during my mealtime. It's a loss isn't it? After years of building to see pieces of it peeling and falling off.

Picture credit: Hugo Robus, One and Another, Smithsonian American Art Museum

A Year Comes Full Circle

Convocation is around the corner and dawned upon me how fast one year passes. It was around this time last year that I graduated and now I'm out of the big picture; standing inconspicuously and observing from one corner.

I can't say I've achieved what I set out to complete but surely, it's been an eventful one year. On the surface, a lot of new things happen and old ones vanished away. At times, I'm on top of that proverbial wheel of life and sometimes at the bottom-most part, rubbing against the ground.

Another year or so and I'd be graduating again. As much as a lot has changed, I still see that some old habits do indeed die hard. Sometimes, with big status comes big headedness too. In short? I was told that life's like a wheel, sometimes I'm on top and other times, bottom. But I wasn't told that being at the bottom hurts. Gosh! People ought to come up with better analogies for life.

PS. Soon, I'd be observing another anniversary like this one.

Sadness At Six Thousand Feet

The gang (from the lab) reached Genting Highlands at about 5 in the morning and the first thing that greeted me was the gust of very cold wind. It takes some getting used to and when I'm moving freely around up there, it's time to come down. Time sure flies don't they? Especially when one doesn't get enough from the thrilling rides of the theme park.

Since we'd only be checking into the hotel at noon, we decided to do some exploration around the plaza. Of course, most shops were shut safe for some eateries and the casinos. We made our way into one of the casinos, confirmed that we're over the stipulated age for entry, and behold a small world bustling world. I was walking around the place with a hot beverage in my hand (drinks are free) observing the people my eye happen to fall on. One man has a cigarette between his index and middle fingers, one leg up on a chair and another hand tapping on the slot machine. On the screen, I could see pictures scrolling down, all neatly arranged in five columns. Throughout my few times going into the casinos there (for drinks of course), I'd see two types (or more than that if I'm wrong) of people: well-dressed affluent individuals and individuals wearing a desperate look on their faces. Looks can be deceiving, I know, but in this case I based my observations on the actions and the much overlooked subtle changes of the expression. I believe lexicographers call the latter nuance.

It saddens me to see one could gamble round the clock; downing cups of coffee in between cigarettes stopping only for to ease themselves in the restroom. From word of mouth, those coming up here to win big in the casino only go back to their room to change and bathe. I bet some don't even book a room. As much as I'm against gambling in whatever form, I respect that each individual has their own motivation and hence know what they're in for although most of the time, the desperation and addiction impairs their ability to reason. It saddens me to see how one guy kept going despite losing so much of his chips. I may not know him personally but I believe that these men and women are fathers and mothers and I stopped short of speculating the situation at home, since I'm experiencing it, it wouldn't shock me too much if we're to think of the worst. And then, the number of people at a given time gambling away shocks me. Was it entertainment? Need? Greed? Or addiction? If it isn't too much, I'd say that if one thinks gambling could open a way for riches and a comfortable life then he or she is clinging on false hope. Falsely assured by a brittle scaffold which threatens to fall apart and plunge them deeper.

I could not but if I could, I'd go up to those with a desperate look (isn't difficult to look for one, a guy even scoff at a gal whom I take to be his close companion when she tugged at his sleeve and whispered something) and tell them to pack up and leave.

Lab mates do win and that's all to it. It isn't normal to make gambling a need for quick buck. Anyway, I'd miss the time I had up there: the climate, the view, and the rides (oh yeah!!). One major turn off: the prices of food up there, sad but understandable.