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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAGRXk-eCp7ImA9WhRRFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359</id><updated>2011-11-28T11:38:44.750+11:00</updated><category term="Comments" /><category term="Mandarin" /><category term="Personal Encounters" /><category term="Travel" /><category term="Latest trend" /><category term="Short story" /><category term="something special" /><title>Human is just an evolved species</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>50</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies" /><feedburner:info uri="humanisjustanevolvedspecies" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8MSH0-cSp7ImA9WhRSGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-614317636674083073</id><published>2011-11-21T03:16:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T02:14:49.359+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-23T02:14:49.359+11:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Comments" /><title>Don't raise your horns, really?</title><content type="html">More on sheep and goat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wrote something on comparison of sheep and goat 3 years ago. Today I read an article about the same and felt complied to write a bit more for another aspect.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Generally, a sheep is docile, conforming, follows the herd, obeys the shepherd and his dogs, non combative, doesn’t argue and stays where he/she is fenced up at.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On the other hand, a goat goes his/her own way, fights the dogs, jumps fences, questions authority.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Regardless of who you want to be, a sheep or a goat, there are always external forces trying to make you into one or another. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, who would prefer a world full of sheep?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. Governments. The more sheep in the country, the easier for them to rule. This is especially true for those great leaders the likes of Chairman Mao, Stalin, Hitler, or more recently Mr. Kim, Mr. Hussein, Mr. Lee, Mr. Mahathir, the list goes on. These great leaders despise and hate goats. Rightly so, the goats question them, challenge them and fight them. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
More than 2 thousand years ago, the son of Joseph and Mary did just that and guess what they did to him? They nailed him on a wooden cross. That’s how great governments dealt with annoying goats.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Recently, there were some really unhealthy happenings in the middle east. Some great leaders were challenged and brought down by their own goats. This is most outrages and unthinkable! They supposed to be docile sheep and run away when the shepherd unleashed the dogs on them. Instead, they turned around and raised their horns and sent the dogs running with tails between their legs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. Organised religions. This is not to be confused with religions, as most of us usually equal them as the same. In reality, religion and organized religion are 2 very different things. Religion is about spiritual, finding universal truth, betterment of oneself, self cultivation, enlightenment. Whereas, organized religion is about rule, control, impose, dictate, oppress, punish and so on, all wrapped up in a thin sugar coat of called “divine order”.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As in the case of governments, organized religions condemn goats and will not hesitate to put them on the chopping board if they have the opportunity. That’s the reason all organized religions demand their subjects to be sheep. “Don’t raise your horns” goes one famous quote. “Obey the shepherd and submit to him” says another. Being a goat, you would probably raise your hand and ask “who are the shepherds?”. You will be frowned upon for asking silly questions. Of course the shepherds are the appointed ones by the divine force, whoever that is depending on which organized religion, who are given divine right to guide and bring you back to the right path, i.e. be a docile sheep. If you dare to ask “how do we know what you say is true?”, they will expedite your passage to eternal hell by burning you alive. But fear not, at least your soul will be save because they will pray for you for the entire BBQ party.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just few hundred years ago, they rounded up thousands of goats, labeled them witches and sorcerers, and burnt them alive. Best of all, they made all the sheep in the city to witness the roasting session. What’s better than a real life lesson on “don’t raise your horns”?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There’s another great thing about organized religions. When their numbers are small, they are usually the oppressed and at the receiving end. When their number builds up, in a blink of an eye, they begin giving out divine punishments to the sheep and goats. Such a wonderful thing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. Perfect spouse or partner. You should just worship your perfect partner for he/she knows everything and does no wrong. Anything less than admiration and total devotion is unforgiven. A sheep is a perfect match for a perfect partner who needs lots of respects, admirations and ego boosts. Can you imagine a goat in that position? “The Nepalese are dark because most of them are fishermen at the sea back home.” A sheep would answer “wow. You are so knowledgeable and smart.” The perfect spouse gets his/her daily dose of respect and ego boost. All is well. A goat would roll his/her eyeball and say “I think Nepal is a land locked country and has no coastline.” The perfect spouse can’t be wrong and so a domestic argument will happen, which will break down the family – the basic building block of our civilized society. Do you want that to happen?&lt;br /&gt;
Only if all wives are sheep, they wouldn't set up and promote the superbly relevent "Obedient Wife Club" or affectionately called OWC, to educate and bring the goat wives back to the right path. No prize for guessing. of course to become a docile sheep, with added spice of husband pleasing sexual "behaviors". &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, do you see my concerns? Being a goat means you are ungrateful, troublemaker, law breaker, go against divine rules, etc. your acts are punishable and the good shepherd will not hesitate to crack his whip and let their dogs on you. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ask any livestock farmer and their will tell you docile-ness is one of most important criteria when they choose an animal at a yard. Polled or horn-less breeds are preferred. Most of them burn the horn butt off on young kids and lambs so they will not grow again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So do you still want to raise your horns and jump the fence? Repent and be a docile sheep now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-614317636674083073?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;How to win an argument?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mdjTl0x9VlE/Tlpnk6nx9aI/AAAAAAAAAVo/UK_fvkh4_Iw/s1600/argument.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="255" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mdjTl0x9VlE/Tlpnk6nx9aI/AAAAAAAAAVo/UK_fvkh4_Iw/s320/argument.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Occasionally, like it or not, we argue with others. As winning is always a must for us high achievers, we have to do what it takes to win an argument.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There are a few techniques to win an argument or debate that will make you an admirable high achiever, and make those underachievers look up upon you. The beauty of these techniques is you don’t even have to know what your opponent’s arguments are. So, it is sort of a set of universal techniques that fits all debate and let you win all of them effortlessly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;1.&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;1&lt;b&gt;. Attack the messenger&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Focus your assaults on the person instead of his/her arguments. The meaner you attack the messenger, the higher your chance of winning the debate. If practiced well enough, winning comes naturally by sending your opponents speechless and too busy defending themselves and forget about the real debate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Example&lt;/u&gt;: You can’t even speak proper English, you points can’t be correct. Go back to school loser. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;John is a low IQ dumb, if you believe what he said, you are a greater dumb .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;2.&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;2. &lt;b&gt;Reduce and distort the opposite opinions&lt;/b&gt;. This is technically called the “&lt;b&gt;strawman&lt;/b&gt;” technique. It basically means build a reduced and distorted version of your opponent’s argument and then beat it up easily with a single blow like beating a strawman.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Example&lt;/u&gt;: Capitalism is nothing more than the rich exploiting the poor. So we must fight it with all our might.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Building a highway will create more accidents that kill. So we must object to this new proposal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;3.&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;3. &lt;b&gt;Accuse hidden motive&lt;/b&gt;. This is also a very effective method to divert the attention from the direct arguments and instead focus the audience attention to your opponent’s immoral hidden agendas. Note that you don’t have to give a damn about what your opponent’s argument is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Example&lt;/u&gt;: You support non violent just because you are a Buddhist who is on an evil mission to convert all the good Christians and Muslims in our audience. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You are saying global warming is a threat because you are a Greenie who wants to destroy the good economy of our country.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;4.&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;4. &lt;b&gt;Attack the weaker relatives&lt;/b&gt;. This is also termed as “&lt;b&gt;kick his shin&lt;/b&gt;” technique. An experienced debater will be able to look for an irrelevant but related point and start attacking it to make the audience believe the actual arguments are being debated and beaten up badly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Example&lt;/u&gt;:&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Socialism is spoken many times by the evil communists, which means socialism is equally evil and if not banned from our good society, it will destroy all beloved country.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;If we haven’t seen a monkey changing into human, the theory of evolution must be flawed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;5.&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;5. &lt;b&gt;False options&lt;/b&gt;. Make your opponent choose between 2 options that are made up by you. This forces them to focus on your two options, whereas there are many more options to choose from. They are doomed whatever they choose because the options are cleverly designed to entrap them. This requires some levels of smartness but will come naturally if practiced a few times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Example&lt;/b&gt;: Pakatan Rakyat is a corrupt party, so we have to vote for UMNO.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Do you want to be a religionless communist or a God fearing good Republican?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;6.&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;6. &lt;b&gt;False assumptions&lt;/b&gt;. This is a very tricky but effective way of confusing the opponents and beat them up after that. It involves giving a pseudo assumption that seems rock solid and hence make your argument undebatable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Example&lt;/u&gt;: Most of the residents speak English which means they are educated and hence the theft must have been committed by the villagers outside of our community.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Look at the cows, they are vegetarians and yet they can grow so healthy. So being vegetarian is also good for our growth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;7.&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;7. &lt;b&gt;Self referencing argument&lt;/b&gt;. This is used by many winners in human history with great successes. It is a powerful tool if used together with technique (3) above. The examples below are self eviden&lt;b&gt;t.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Example&lt;/b&gt;: Communism is the greatest way of life on earth because Chairman Mao had said it numerous times in his Red book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;If your opponent detects the self referencing in your “circular logic” argument, quickly switch to technique (3) to question his hidden motives.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I know you are a bloody racist. Chairman Mao is the beloved leader of 1.3 billion Chinese. Just because you have white supremacy in your blood, you hate all Chinese.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;If all of the above fail, you may have no choice but to resort to the dumbest, least effective and most time consuming method. Do research to back your opinions and counter your opponents with data and figures. Most of the time, you will lose an argument this way especially if your opponent employs the above methods instead.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Happy debating.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-5650971187844348912?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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   UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/&gt;   &lt;w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
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 /* Style Definitions */
 table.MsoNormalTable
	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
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	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
	mso-style-noshow:yes;
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	mso-style-parent:"";
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	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
	mso-fareast-font-family:宋体;
	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
&lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;/m:defjc&gt;&lt;/m:rmargin&gt;&lt;/m:lmargin&gt;&lt;/m:dispdef&gt;&lt;/m:smallfrac&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3VvLee-FPIs/TlE15C0DO4I/AAAAAAAAAVg/ls33vKu035U/s1600/rain-forest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3VvLee-FPIs/TlE15C0DO4I/AAAAAAAAAVg/ls33vKu035U/s1600/rain-forest.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Under the shadows of the big trees, Mary was frantically scanning the forest looking for a hint of a foot path or any familiar signs. Although every tree was different, the tropical rain forest around her seemed the same – huge, tall trees with sparse undergrowth.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;The sun was setting and Mary knew it would be dark very soon. She checked her watch. 6:25pm. At most, another 30 minutes before it would be too dark to navigate in the forest. She had a compass but it didn’t help a bit for someone with little experience. A compass was useful only if she knew her location and a map to guide her.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Don’t panic, Mary. You can do this.” She told herself.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Mary came to Borneo with 2 other fellow researchers to do field studies on beetles that fed on decayed vegetations. This was a major part of her post graduate thesis. She loved bugs even when she was a little girl. Her friends would scream and jump, while she would pick up a spider and looked at it with full interest. Very few would appreciate how amazing these small creatures with segmented body were. They thrived in harsh environments where other creatures failed. They outnumbered other creatures by thousands times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;She loved the tropical forest and enjoyed the 2 weeks field trip very much. This was the last trip where they had to hike to a remote part of the forest to collect samples and had to stay a few nights in the forest. They had 2 very experienced local guides who knew the forest like their back yard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Mary came out with another researcher Jane to collect beetles after they had set camp near a waterfall. Marang, their lead guide wouldn’t allow them to go into the forest alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“It’s too easy to get lost. Everywhere looks the same. If you make a step in the wrong direction, you may not find your way again.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Mary now knew he was right. She had asked Jane to go back while she took a short detour to get some leave samples by the stream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“The foot path is pretty clear and I won’t be lost” she had said jokingly to Jane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;She went to the stream, collected the leave samples and back tracked. While walking, she had a strange feeling she wasn’t on the right track. Maybe she had missed a turn.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;So she turned and walked back. There was indeed a faint path between 2 tall trees. &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;One of them had a big branch broken from the main trunk. She followed that path but it ended before a steep slope. Mary knew she didn’t come that way and back tracked.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;She walked for a while but didn’t find the junction and the 2 tall trees where she came from.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;She scanned and she saw the two tall trees were not far away on her right. The sparse undergrowth didn’t look too hard to get through.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“The footpath is just behind the trees. I can get back to camp once I see the path.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;She walked toward the tall trees and found that although the undergrowth was sparse, vines and fallen branches were making it hard to get through. Her backpack got hooked on a branch and she fell on her knees.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Can’t get through from here. I will walk around this small slope.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;She walked around some big trees and was tripped a few times. When she got back on her feet, her target trees were gone from sight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;To her horror, she couldn’t remember where she started.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Dang! Should have left some marks” she blamed herself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;With no choice, she moved towards the direction which she thought was right. After a few turns, she knew she was in trouble as she had no clue where she was and the sun was setting fast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Mary checked her watch again. 6:50pm. The forest was almost dark save for the little sunlight that filtered through the thick canopy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Help! Help!” Mary was overwhelmed by panic and called out for help.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Exhausted and in fear, she rested under a huge tree with trunk thicker than a pickup truck. Under the shade, it’s unusually clear of undergrowth.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Mary knew it was better for her to stay put and wait for help. It’s too dangerous to wander in the dark forest, although she knew there weren’t any big animals in the Borneo forest that would harm her.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;A cold evening breeze chilled her sweat soaked body. She had goose bumps all over and felt her hair was standing on her head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-style: none none dotted; border-width: medium medium 3pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt;"&gt;  &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Her whole body shivered as if she had entered a meat freezer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Before she blacked out, she thought the cold breeze had a faint scent of incense.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Marang took a deep drag on his cigarette. It’s still early in the morning and the foggy forest around him was quiet. He had a worried look on his face and felt uncomfortable of what had happened. He lived his whole life in this part of the Borneo tropical rain forest and knew and saw many things that beyond the comprehension of city folks. The forest was a different world compared to the villages and the cities.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;He could tell which part of the forest he’s in by the sound of the insects and birds. The seemingly uniform forest was unique and had distinguishable features in his eyes. Different parts of the forest had distinctive smells of leaves, rotting vegetation. Even the breeze was a sign for him to find his way in the forest. His senses worked optimally here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Ironically, when he occasionally went to the cities, he couldn’t find his way in a shopping mall. He couldn’t remember what floor he was on and the shops looked the same to him, although they had names on them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;They found Mary wandering in the forest after she didn’t return to the camp that night. She was walking in the dark without a light. When he found her, she had a big smile on her face and her eyes were sparkling in the flash light.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Back in camp, Mary didn’t say a word to anyone but was grinning all the time. Marang was uncomfortable with this. He started a camp fire and stayed up all night.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;In another hour, the sun would rise and wake up the forest. The insects and birds would start their day loud and happy, followed by the gibbons and leaf monkeys. This morning symphony was loud but peacefully rhythmic, just like the breaking of surf on the beach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Nik, the other guide, walked to Marang and handed him a coffee in a tin mug.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Jaga-jaga si Mary tu. Ada yang tak kena” (watch out on Mary. Something not right) He said to Nik.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Nik nodded and then shook his head and sighed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;At that moment, they saw Mary crawled out from the tent and walked towards the trees, smile on her face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Both men ran after her and grabbed her arms. Mary turned to face them. Her eyes were big and her gaze was wild.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;She smiled and bared her teeth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a3jJkz5yH-c/TlE2ruO83_I/AAAAAAAAAVk/oLg2QHyhD70/s1600/pontianak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a3jJkz5yH-c/TlE2ruO83_I/AAAAAAAAAVk/oLg2QHyhD70/s1600/pontianak.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Taring aku cantik kah?” (are my fangs pretty?) she asked in a high pitch voice, in the local language.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Marang knew his worst worry came true. Without a word, he and Nik dragged her back towards the camp. Mary was struggling frantically and almost over powered the two strong men.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Lepaskan aku. Lepaskan aku” (let me go!) She screamed and kicked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Can’t get her arms free from the men, Mary bared her teeth and tried to bite them but was quickly pushed away. They finally had to tie her up to prevent her from injuring herself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;The other researchers were woke up by the commotion and looked at them bewilderedly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Stop this at once and let her go.” Matthew protested. He was the leader among the researchers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Something is inside her and we can’t let her run wild in the forest.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Nonsense! She needs medical treatment. That’s what she needs right now”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Mr. Matthew, how do you explain she speaking the Malay language? She is a Dutch, mind you”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Matthew kept quiet. He knew Marang was probably right. Being an intellect trained in science, he wanted to find a scientific explanation to this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Maybe she had heard the language here and learnt it in her sub conscious mind. You know, people can do amazing things with their sub conscious mind.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt; Matthew tried to explain. Jane put a hand on his shoulder and signaled to him to keep quiet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Aku mau pulang! Laki ku menunggu!” (I want to go home. My man is waiting) Mary kept screaming and yelling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Marang didn’t know what to do. He knew he can’t take Mary out from the forest. What started here must end here. Taking a possessed person out of the forest might keep the spirit in her forever. At the same time, he couldn’t stay in the forest for too long lest endangering the other researchers under his charge. He heard tales of forest spirits attracting each others. He also worried about the safety of Mary. Being possessed for too long would drain her and do permanent damages to her. She might lose her mind and the worst, she might drop dead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;It seemed they were not alone here. There’s at least another unseen being lurking in the forest, if what Mary said was anything to go with. There might be more of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Having lived in the forest all his life, he was certainly not naïve to the realm of spirits and other unseen beings. They were called “Penunggu” in his language, which meant Guardian. They usually left people alone unless that poor person had done something wrong or offensive to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;There was also another type of being which were feared by the local tribe. The locals called them “Puaka” (demon) and they were believed to be ferocious. Marang knew of many tales where villages were possessed by Puaka and most of these tales didn’t have pleasant endings.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;He heard tale of a possessed woman from the Iban tribe who chewed on her own fingers. By the time they stopped her, all her 10 fingers were gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-style: none none dotted; border-width: medium medium 3pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt;"&gt;  &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Marang could send Nik to get help from the village but the return trip would take 2 days. That would be too long and too painful for poor Mary to bear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;The sun had warmed up the forest and fog was gone. The forest was again transformed into a busy and alive place, with all the sounds of the insects, bird and animals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Marang was alarmed by voices in the forest. They turned out to be &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;the honey collectors from the Iban village. He called out to them and they came to the camp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;An elderly man looked at Mary and talked to Marang in his language. He nodded after Marang explained to him what had happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“I am going to take her to the forest where we found her and the Ibans will help to make the spirit leave her” He explained to the group and asked Nik to take charge while he was away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-style: none none dotted; border-width: medium medium 3pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt;"&gt;  &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;In the forest under the huge tree without undergrowth, the old man encircled Mary with a ring of stones. He put the offering of ice wine and honey under the huge tree trunk. The other Iban men pour rice wine around the tree while reciting words of prayer to the ancestors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Nenek datang nggak di jemput. Nenek pulang nggak dihantar. Sila pergi Nenek. Cucu mohon.” He repeated the recital many times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;(Elder, you came uninvited. You go without sendoff. Please leave. We plead.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Mary stood there still with a grin on her face. The forest around them was quiet and still. Not a single sound of insects or birds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Aku mau layang” (I want to float in air) she hissed out the words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;The old man poured rice wine on her face and without warning smacked her head hard with his palm. Mary fell on the ground and passed out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;They felt a cold breeze swept through and before long the warm sunlight and sounds of insects were back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-style: none none dotted; border-width: medium medium 3pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt;"&gt;  &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Without delay, Marang took Mary back to camp site and asked the group to pack up and leave immediately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Back in the city, when Matthew asked her what had happened to her, Mary said she can’t remember.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“I was like in a dream. In the dream, I was tethered to a huge tree and kept walking around it. It was really, really cold and I don’t remember anything else besides that tree.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“What happened after that?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“I felt someone hit me on the head. Before I wake up, I heard a voice. She said ‘I shall come for you’. It’s in a foreign language but I understood it. I woke up and found myself in the camp and you guys around me. Funny dream, isn’t it?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Yes. Just a dream. It’s just a dream Mary.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZLxU-2AYiUJ_ttbdrUgksm8SB3w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZLxU-2AYiUJ_ttbdrUgksm8SB3w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/aqwfiTGYPaA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/703531214839533887/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=703531214839533887" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/703531214839533887?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/703531214839533887?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/aqwfiTGYPaA/lost.html" title="LOST" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3VvLee-FPIs/TlE15C0DO4I/AAAAAAAAAVg/ls33vKu035U/s72-c/rain-forest.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2011/08/lost.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUGR385eyp7ImA9WhdREEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-6435838752333349672</id><published>2011-07-31T04:07:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T04:23:46.123+10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-31T04:23:46.123+10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>Rasheeni's cries</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;m:smallfrac m:val="off"&gt;    &lt;m:dispdef&gt;    &lt;m:lmargin m:val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:rmargin m:val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"&gt;    &lt;m:wrapindent m:val="1440"&gt;    &lt;m:intlim m:val="subSup"&gt;    &lt;m:narylim m:val="undOvr"&gt;   &lt;/m:narylim&gt;&lt;/m:intlim&gt; &lt;/m:wrapindent&gt;  &lt;/m:defjc&gt;&lt;/m:rmargin&gt;&lt;/m:lmargin&gt;&lt;/m:dispdef&gt;&lt;/m:smallfrac&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;For thousands of Rasheenis out there. I hate myself for not doing more than weeping for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zGFNGZCwnWA/TjRH6d7znVI/AAAAAAAAAVY/isUiTjAwfTU/s1600/India-postitute-girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y9_DR8Xokho/TjRH8M5NbOI/AAAAAAAAAVc/of45bNi4vpI/s1600/slave-gilr-nepal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y9_DR8Xokho/TjRH8M5NbOI/AAAAAAAAAVc/of45bNi4vpI/s320/slave-gilr-nepal.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Its 3pm in the afternoon and the small lane in the outskirt of Kathmandu is crowded as usual. Rasheeni is walking home from school. As in any day, she walks faster than her friends as she has to get home quickly. A lot of chores are waiting for her at home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;She changes quickly and hangs up her only school uniform, which she has to wear for another 4 days. She takes the leftovers from a big tin pot on the only table in their tiny shed and goes to feed the chickens. After that’s done, she rinses the pot with water she bucketed from the river 2 days ago and starts to boil rice on a small kerosene burner. While waiting for it to cook, she changes the urine soaked pants of her younger brother who has been lying inside a paper carton box since the morning. When the rice is cooked, she quickly puts out the burner to save the little fuel they have and goes to the welfare center 2 km away to get their daily ration of dahl curry and vegetables. After safely putting the rice pot and the bowl of curry on the table, only then the 8 year-old Rasheeni starts to do her homework on the dirt floor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;She is hungry but she has to wait for her mother to come back from work before they can have their dinner. Her mother works in the city as a cleaner and earns just enough wages to keep them barely alive. School was a far away dream until Mr. Santos founded the Welfare center in the village. With the help of a few NGO, Mr. Santos set up a welfare center which provides free food for the poorest families. He also started a small school for the children with the help of some volunteer teachers from overseas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Rasheeni likes school and she is especially fond of a young teacher from Holland, Miss Ruel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“I want to be a teacher like you when I grow up” she told Ruel many times. Ruel would give her a pat on the head and smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“I m sure you will, Rasheeni. I m sure.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Her mother comes home and tells her that her grandfather will be visiting them next week and he will take Rasheeni back to his village.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;They eat quietly but Rasheeni is nervous. She senses something in her mother’s voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Mother, when will I come back here?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Her mother looks away and says slowly, “you will stay there for a long time.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“what about school? I want to continue to go to school.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Rasheeni. Grandpa has found a husband for you. You don’t need to go to school anymore. Your husband works in India and his family has many buffalos and big rice field. You will not be hungry.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Rasheeni keeps quiet. She doesn’t quite understand what her mother has told her. She knows that a girl has to be married and obey her husband. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“if having a husband is good, why did father leave us?” she once asked her mother but her mother just wept and walked away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Ruel notices Rasheeni is different today. She is usually the one who is beaming to ask questions and likes to raise her hand to answer questions. Today, she is very quiet and doesn’t say anything in class. Her big eyes look dim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Rasheeni. Are you alright?” Ruel asks the 8 year-old Rasheeni after class.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“I will stop school next week because I will be married in my grandfather’s village.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“But you are just 8 years old. My god. How can they do that to you?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Rasheeni looks up with her glassy eyes and says “Miss Ruel. I don’t want to marry. I want to come to school and be a teacher like you one day.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Ruel hugs her and promises to help.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Inside his office at the welfare center, Mr. Santos takes a sip of his tea and looks at Ruel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Miss Ruel. Such things happen almost every day here in this part of the world. Child marriage is very common.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“But she is just 8 years old. For god sake. Can’t we do anything to help her?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Legally, we can’t do anything. But that’s not what I fear most for little Rasheeni.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“What can be worse than that?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“It’s also very common for poor families to sell their young daughters to brothels in India. Many men believe having sex with young virgins can cure their illnesses such as AIDS and TB. Young girls are especially in high demand in the coming festive month”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“WHAT!” Ruel cups her hand over her mouth in disbelief. It’s beyond her comprehension such cruelty even exists.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Mr. Santos shakes his head and sighs. Throughout the years, he had seen one too many worse cases.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;A girl in remote Gujerat was sold for 3 times by her own parents. Every time she was rescued by the police and brought back to her parent, only to be sold again. Sometimes when he closes his eyes, that image of the tortured young girl he found locked in the back room of the brothel would come to him. The blank face with total hopelessness in the eyes. The lash marks on her young, skinny naked body.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zGFNGZCwnWA/TjRH6d7znVI/AAAAAAAAAVY/isUiTjAwfTU/s1600/India-postitute-girl.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="248" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zGFNGZCwnWA/TjRH6d7znVI/AAAAAAAAAVY/isUiTjAwfTU/s320/India-postitute-girl.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Ruel, sometimes I wish I could help them all but the reality is we can only do so much. I understand how it feels” Santos says sadly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Ruel doesn’t give up. She goes to the police, the district officer and even the Dutch high commission in Kathmandu for help. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“There’s nothing we can do. We don’t have enough man power to help.” The inspector tells her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“Her mother has legal right to decide for her daughter.” The district officer says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;“We have to respect the local culture and not to interfere in local affairs.” The Dutch high commissioner’s secretary says to her in perfect manner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;After she goes back the next week, Ruel finds only 7 pupils are left in her class of 10. Rasheeni and 2 other young girls are missing from her class forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-6435838752333349672?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/huKpyoLCZuYBXsUzX65P6zmaPd4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/huKpyoLCZuYBXsUzX65P6zmaPd4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/h27MnJRMZEM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/6435838752333349672/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=6435838752333349672" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/6435838752333349672?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/6435838752333349672?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/h27MnJRMZEM/raheenis-cries.html" title="Rasheeni's cries" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y9_DR8Xokho/TjRH8M5NbOI/AAAAAAAAAVc/of45bNi4vpI/s72-c/slave-gilr-nepal.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2011/07/raheenis-cries.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUHRH87cSp7ImA9WhZSEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-7467537106567544656</id><published>2011-03-27T19:18:00.010+11:00</published><updated>2011-03-27T23:50:35.109+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-27T23:50:35.109+11:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Comments" /><title>On instinct &amp; behaviors</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EiY9-W3mN70/TY7z7NHx9lI/AAAAAAAAAVU/0ppAL2i4umI/s1600/SysMod9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="227" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EiY9-W3mN70/TY7z7NHx9lI/AAAAAAAAAVU/0ppAL2i4umI/s320/SysMod9.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;m:smallfrac m:val="off"&gt;    &lt;m:dispdef&gt;    &lt;m:lmargin m:val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:rmargin m:val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"&gt;    &lt;m:wrapindent m:val="1440"&gt;    &lt;m:intlim m:val="subSup"&gt;    &lt;m:narylim m:val="undOvr"&gt;   &lt;/m:narylim&gt;&lt;/m:intlim&gt; &lt;/m:wrapindent&gt;  &lt;/m:defjc&gt;&lt;/m:rmargin&gt;&lt;/m:lmargin&gt;&lt;/m:dispdef&gt;&lt;/m:smallfrac&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;In general, human behaviors are divided into 2 broad groups, i.e. “natural” and “Un-natural”. Before you raise your hand, allow me to summarise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;“Natural” behaviors refer to all &lt;u style="background-color: #999999;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #f3f3f3;"&gt;instinctive &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;actions (or in-actions) that satisfy natural requirements of a living being, regardless of whether he/she comes from civilized and uncivilized background.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;As the logic goes, “Un-natural” behaviors refer to the opposite of “Natural” behaviors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;To illustrate, behaviors of other &lt;b&gt;non-human, soulless, dumb&lt;/b&gt; living beings are also presented as comparison to show the superiority of the &lt;b&gt;chosen&lt;/b&gt;, &lt;b&gt;intelligent&lt;/b&gt;, &lt;b&gt;special&lt;/b&gt; human species.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;“&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Natural&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;” behaviors can be further sub-divided as follows, in order of priority.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;1.&amp;nbsp; &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Individual survivor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-size: small; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 54pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-size: small; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b style="background-color: blue;"&gt;Animals&lt;/b&gt;: eat, sleep, run from danger, hide from the elements, hunt, rob from the weaker ones etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 54pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-size: small; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b style="background-color: purple;"&gt;Human&lt;/b&gt;: eat, sleep, run from danger, hide from the elements, hunt, rob from the weaker ones, selfish, back stabbing, lie, cheat etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Every action has 1 single purpose in mind, to instinctively stay alive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-size: small; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;2. &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Propagation of own genes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 54pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-size: small; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: blue;"&gt;Animals&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt;courtship&lt;b&gt;, &lt;/b&gt;love dance (birds, some fish, some insects), display of strength/beauty (peacocks, moose etc), gifts (dung beetles, &amp;nbsp;chimpanzees etc) mate, maternal care, occasional paternal care (Penguins, hornbills, sea horses etc), defending offsprings, fight for mating rights, guard harem of females (lions, elephant seals, zebras etc), kill off-springs sired by other males/females (lions, bears etc), exclusive breeding rights of alpha pairs (wolves, African wild dogs, merkats etc)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 54pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-size: small; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: purple;"&gt;Human&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;/b&gt; courtship, date, makeup, perfume, sport cars, diamonds, mate, maternal care, romance, marriage, winner gets the princess, polygamy, criminalized adultery, virgin wife, jealousy, possessiveness, demand for faithful partner etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Every action has the purpose of increasing the chance of passing on ones’ (male/female) genes to the next generation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-size: small; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;3. &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Survival of the species.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 54pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-size: small; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b style="background-color: blue;"&gt;Animals&lt;/b&gt;: live in pack (wolves), reluctant to harm babies (of same species), pack hunting (lions), collective care for babies in the pack (hyenas), pecking order (chicken and some birds), social hierarchy (alpha pair in wolves, dominant silverback gorillas etc), dispose of the old and injured from pack, chase away grown up males/females to reduce chances of incest (avoid in-breeding), rarely cannibalise, expand/defend territory, killing competitors (lions and hyenas killing each other whenever there is an opportunity) etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 54pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-size: small; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b style="background-color: purple;"&gt;Human&lt;/b&gt;: families, villages, countries, family names, reluctant to harm babies (of same race, civilised killing uncivilised is generally ok), matriarch society, caste system, organized religions, Gods, governments, kings and novelties, saints and noble men, mercy killings, criminalized incest, dislike cannibalism, wars, slavery, banning homosexuality, genocides, create rules and laws, moral, honour to serve in war, encourage virtues (honesty, faithfulness to country, subordination etc) while punish sins (liars, thieves, disobedient, question Gods etc)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 54pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 54pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Every action is aimed at multiplying ones’ species (race, group, country etc), preserving order and reducing competitions from other species (race, group, country etc)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b style="background-color: cyan; color: black;"&gt;Natural behaviors&lt;/b&gt; are in order of priority, individual survival being the most important and hence of highest priority. E.g. in a war or disaster, a human will usually save himself first, then his offsprings. Defending the county will be on lower priority&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 54pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: cyan; color: black;"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="background-color: cyan; color: black;"&gt;Un-natural”&lt;/b&gt; behaviors are those that don’t contribute to the above actions/inactions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-size: small; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;1. &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Anti survival of individual or species&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; - &lt;span style="background-color: blue;"&gt;Animals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;: extremely rare to none. only observed on some intelligent species such as elephant, dolphins and primates. dolphins had been spotted many times fending off sharks from injured members, even human divers were reported saved by dolphins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; - &lt;span style="background-color: purple;"&gt;Human&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;: care for aged parents; defend unrelated sick, disabled people, sacrifice ones’ life for the benefits of other unrelated people, compassion towards other non-human species.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; 2.&amp;nbsp; &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Non survival related behaviors&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-size: small; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; - &lt;span style="background-color: blue;"&gt;Animals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;extremely rare to none. only observed on some intelligent species such as elephant, dolphins and primates. Dolphins and bonobos are the 2 known species , besides human, that have non reproductive sex. (h&lt;i style="color: yellow;"&gt;ttp://songweaver.com/info/bonobos.html; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Animal_sexual_behaviour&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; - &lt;span style="background-color: purple;"&gt;Human&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;: music, arts, literature, sports, individual spirituality, sex for pleasure etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Above behaviors are considered as going beyond the realm of survival of either individual or species. Nevertheless, they are not in the mainstream of human behaviors which are cherished by the masses. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;By far, three of most popular and cherished elements of human life are: &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Food, romance and organized religions&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, can you go beyond instinct and survival?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EN995CCJ6UvmoO_TyQHAqQk-HJY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EN995CCJ6UvmoO_TyQHAqQk-HJY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/kNgbSflmgGc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/7467537106567544656/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=7467537106567544656" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/7467537106567544656?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/7467537106567544656?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/kNgbSflmgGc/on-behaviors.html" title="On instinct &amp; behaviors" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EiY9-W3mN70/TY7z7NHx9lI/AAAAAAAAAVU/0ppAL2i4umI/s72-c/SysMod9.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2011/03/on-behaviors.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYAQ30yeip7ImA9WhZTEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-3883473617958701365</id><published>2011-03-17T03:32:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2011-03-17T03:32:22.392+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-17T03:32:22.392+11:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>Kupu-kupu malam</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Everyone has his/her story and reasons to do or not to do something. Having dreams and desires is a right, not privilege. Approval and judgment from others are not required. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;This short story is for the working girls in Jakarta and around the world. I may not agree with what you’re doing, I respect your rights.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Traffic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; in Jakarta city is moving slowly on Friday night. Most of the left lane is occupied by street hawkers and small buses. It is the familiar scene to Ade who is staring blankly out from the Bluebird taxi. Her mind is somewhere else, in a place where she lies on green field surrounded by white, snow capped mountains. A place where the clear blue sky is decorated with pure white clouds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;She&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; was born in a small town on the Island of Sulawesi and moved to the capital with a dream. In the first 2 years, she worked hard at a hair salon and tried hard to save as much money as she could. Then, a friend made her realize that in order to have more money, she had to make more and not just by saving them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Her friends initiated her into a world unknown to a timid country girl, a world where she could receive 2 weeks’ worth of her salary at the salon in a few hours, a world where she didn’t need qualifications to compete, and a world where she just needed to smile and get really close with strangers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In a few months time, she had learnt to speak comparatively good English and started to frequent some of the pubs and lounges at 5-star hotels where she could meet foreigners with fat wallet. Life was easy. She quit her day job at the hair salon, moved to a better kos (hostel) and still had enough money to buy new clothes and shoes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"I don’t entertain everyone but the ones who I like." She always told herself this, as if to convince and justify her own action. Behind her back, people called her “kupu-kupu malam” (night butterfly). In a city where everyone was struggling to make do amid the ever increasing standard of living, having money was all that counted. She was convinced.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Ade’s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; world changed after she met Patrick at the CJs pub in Mulia Hotel. He was young, good looking and well mannered. Unlike the other bule (white skinned foreigners), he showed respect for her and didn’t feel her up in public. They were sitting at the noisy pub and were talking for almost 2 hours before going back to his apartment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He called her the next day and soon she was living with him for the next few weeks. That was the happiest time in Ade’s 25 years of live. She would wait for him to come back from work and went out for dinner together. He told her stories of his trips to many parts of the world, places where she hadn’t heard of. He gave her a poster of splendid snow capped mountains under clear blue sky, which Ade found so beautiful and peaceful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Himalaya mountains. They’re the tallest mountains in the world" Patrick told her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She kept it and wished she could visit the place one day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;One&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; day, Patrick came home and told her he was going back to Australia the next day. Ade cried and he promised to come back for her in a few weeks time. They made passionate love whole night as if it was the last.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Just like that, Patrick disappeared from her life and she never heard from him since. She was sad for a few weeks and when her money ran out, she went back to her former life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;“You just need to switch back, just like flicking a light switch. Life goes on, honey” Her good friend Tias used to advise her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-------------------------------------------------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Ade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; gets off the taxi at the Le Meridian Hotel and heads directly to the famous “Tiga Puluh Pub”. Some of her friends have arrived earlier and are mingling in the Friday night crowd. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;She&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; scans the floor and makes a mental note on the potential clients. As usual, she filters those she doesn’t like at first sight. After that, she smiles and walks straight to the bar where she knows most of the clients will go to get their drinks. By experience, she understands this is a game of waiting and a balance of supply and demand. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;She&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; orders an orange juice and kept her distance from those girls dressed up in tight tops and short skirts. In contrary, she dresses up discreetly in white t-shirt and tight jeans, which make she stand out amid the other overly exposed girls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A middle age white man of average build smiles at her and she smiles back. He walks over and says “Hello, what’s your name?” she smiles again and says “I m Linda, where are you from?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Ade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; gets up from her bed and sits down at the small table. She pushes away the kettle and some old magazines to make room for her daily letter writing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;“Dear Patick,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;It rained heavily last night and Jakarta traffic was very bad as on every raining Friday night. I had a wonderful dream. We were drinking tea in a small hotel built in the middle of a green field. The white mountains were very close and we could see them from the hotel. The hotel owner was singing while he was making pan cakes for us. Everyone in the hotel was smiling and happy. The air was cool and fresh, just the same like it was at the Puncak tea plantation we visited together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;Sometimes, I wished we had made more outings together when you were in Jakarta. But that’s OK, I know you will remember me and come back to take me to visit your home in Australia. I long to see the green grass and white sheep you had told me so many times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;Ade.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;She&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; folds the letter carefully, puts it inside a light blue envelope and writes the date on it before sealing it. Slowly, with deliberate movements, she unlocks a small metal box and puts the letter on top of a pile that sits in the box. A poster of white snow capped mountains in wooden frame hangs above her bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After her shower, Ade sits down to make up and gets ready for her Saturday night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the streets&lt;/strong&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; peddlers knock on car windows trying to sell bottled water and cigarettes. Beyond their blank and tired faces, they are probably thinking about dinner and school fees for their children.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;In Jakarta, life goes on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-3883473617958701365?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-wp4QAGHtgYNm4z76oBF-4GlLcI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-wp4QAGHtgYNm4z76oBF-4GlLcI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/tuKBRd-Xb6M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/3883473617958701365/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=3883473617958701365" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/3883473617958701365?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/3883473617958701365?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/tuKBRd-Xb6M/kupu-kupu-malam.html" title="Kupu-kupu malam" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2011/03/kupu-kupu-malam.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08GQXs4fip7ImA9Wx9QGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-6510004781850322848</id><published>2011-01-02T01:23:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T01:23:40.536+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-02T01:23:40.536+11:00</app:edited><title>Farewell</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Farewell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;To one of the few true honest men I have known.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;To a man who had lived his whole life through honest means.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;To a truly non violent man who had no enemies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;To a man who had nothing his whole life except his intelligence.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;To a man who faced rough times with soft smiles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;To a man who always had a kind and friendly face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;To a man who had never asked for anything from anything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;To a man who had given so much to others&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;To a man who had endured pain without complaints.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;Thanks for the Santa Claus doll you gave me 35 years ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;Farewell uncle, a truly honest man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;May peace be upon you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-6510004781850322848?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rftG8FoIR0gpSVxD7jSYB6gg_Hk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rftG8FoIR0gpSVxD7jSYB6gg_Hk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rftG8FoIR0gpSVxD7jSYB6gg_Hk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rftG8FoIR0gpSVxD7jSYB6gg_Hk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/vcXpa2JUWOw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/6510004781850322848/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=6510004781850322848" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/6510004781850322848?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/6510004781850322848?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/vcXpa2JUWOw/farewell.html" title="Farewell" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2011/01/farewell.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4MRnw5cCp7ImA9Wx5VFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-5373480053132545423</id><published>2010-09-04T02:13:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T20:16:27.228+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T20:16:27.228+11:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Comments" /><title>On Abandoned babies</title><content type="html">Recently, there have some hu-ha on abandoned babies found in rubbish dumps or places where you wouldn’t expect to find a baby.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On this subject, there are 3 main opinions which I summarized:&lt;br /&gt;
1. Abandoned babies happened due to declining moral value in the society.&lt;br /&gt;
2. This decline in moral is most likely because of the lack of good religious knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;
3. Harsh punishments are required to deter this from recurring.&lt;br /&gt;
4. We must educate our youngsters with the right values to prevent this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have to say I agree 101% with all these opinions.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. Yes. It is really immoral specifically of the parents, generally of the good society to reject a pregnant teenager and her unborn baby. What has this world become of? As far as I know, our good Iban society in Sarawak hasn’t faced abandoned babies problem for centuries. Why? They accept the mother and baby without a frown. The same goes to the good Eskimo people and some African tribes who we usually labeled as “less civilized”. Well, who is more civilized in terms of compassion?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. Yes. The bad influence must have stemmed from lack of good religious values. The Holy Scriptures promote unconditional love and asks us to have compassion for all human being and even animals. “Love your enemies”. Every week, these same people bow and pray to the Mighty Creator and vow to uphold HIS teaching. Yet, they rejected their own teenage daughter and abandoned them at times when they needed their parents most.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. Yes. Harsh punishments are required to cap all this immoral activities. Find those fuckers (literally speaking) and punish them for impregnating underage girls. Did I hear you said “CASTRATION”?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. Yes. Give them good sex education. Let them know how a baby is made. More importantly, teach them how not to make a baby. Equip them with the necessary knowledge to face the real and cruel world out there, especially those who cloaked under a robe and carry a holy book wherever they go.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;Now consider this case: she was probably 15 years old and was engaged to a nice young man. Before they got married, she was found pregnant and the father of the child was not known.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;What should us the moral defender do to her to show it as an example to the rest of the teenage girls?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;Her fiancé would have abandoned her as well as her parents, and the baby would most likely be found in a rubbish dump. She would be charged for immoral activity and baby dumping. The baby would probably not survive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;There's a tiny problem here: Her name was Mary and she named her baby Jesus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Now, do you see my point, dear Moral Upholders?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-5373480053132545423?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hBQrZHLG7RD0fMnCZxKkUBhqsmU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hBQrZHLG7RD0fMnCZxKkUBhqsmU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/rFWtNidUgjU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/5373480053132545423/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=5373480053132545423" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/5373480053132545423?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/5373480053132545423?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/rFWtNidUgjU/on-abandoned-babies.html" title="On Abandoned babies" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2010/09/on-abandoned-babies.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUDRng7eCp7ImA9WxFbFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-5519551344415008104</id><published>2010-07-08T01:35:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T01:41:17.600+10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-08T01:41:17.600+10:00</app:edited><title>DID U HEAR OUR CRIES?</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/TDSf0ab2g_I/AAAAAAAAAU0/s9G8i28kOx0/s1600/slaughtered-cow2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491189568469631986" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/TDSf0ab2g_I/AAAAAAAAAU0/s9G8i28kOx0/s400/slaughtered-cow2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;when I was still very young, i was separated from my mother.&lt;br /&gt;They wrapped a rubber band around my testicles for them to drop.&lt;br /&gt;my meat would be tenderer, they said.&lt;br /&gt;It hurt so much.&lt;br /&gt;Did u hear my cries?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I grow older, they sent me to a feedlot.&lt;br /&gt;The place was so small I touched my neighbors whenever i turned.&lt;br /&gt;Not a shred of green grass but starchy grain mix.&lt;br /&gt;My meat would have more fat and taste better, they said.&lt;br /&gt;It hurt my stomach.&lt;br /&gt;Did u hear my cries?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the time came, my food and water were cut off.&lt;br /&gt;They loaded me onto a truck and drove to my destiny.&lt;br /&gt;I would suffer less with empty stomach, they said.&lt;br /&gt;It hurt, my friend.&lt;br /&gt;Did u hear my cries?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was inside, I could feel fear and pain all around me.&lt;br /&gt;They came with a bolt gun and shot me between the eyes.&lt;br /&gt;I would feel no pain when my throat was cut, they said.&lt;br /&gt;It hurt, it hurt so much.&lt;br /&gt;Did you hear my cries?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAN YOU HEAR OUR CRIES? &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491189331503121042" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/TDSfmnqogpI/AAAAAAAAAUs/fgaE5CWtlgM/s400/slaughtered-cow.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-5519551344415008104?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ih4-v0yul4PIYHObl0IxQcvg7CQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ih4-v0yul4PIYHObl0IxQcvg7CQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/mzF8FDZMBr4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/5519551344415008104/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=5519551344415008104" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/5519551344415008104?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/5519551344415008104?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/mzF8FDZMBr4/did-u-hear-our-cries.html" title="DID U HEAR OUR CRIES?" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/TDSf0ab2g_I/AAAAAAAAAU0/s9G8i28kOx0/s72-c/slaughtered-cow2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2010/07/did-u-hear-our-cries.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEBQHo4cSp7ImA9WxBWF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-4770992194941337367</id><published>2010-02-09T18:16:00.012+11:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T19:04:11.439+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-09T19:04:11.439+11:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Travel" /><title>Danum Valley Conservation Area</title><content type="html">I learnt about Danum Valley Conservation Area (DVCA) 2 years ago and finally had the opportunity to visit this amazing primary tropical rain forest in July this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Brief History&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;DVCA is among the few unlogged primary forests left in Malaysia. Some of the other famous forest conservations include Maliau Basin Conservation Area (MBCA, Sabah), Taman Negara (Pahang) and Belum National Park (Perak).&lt;br /&gt;DVCA is about 438 square km in area and it is surrounded by a huge logging concession area (10,000 square km or more than 20 times DVCA) awarded to Yayasan Sabah. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The first documented exploration into Danum Valley was in 1887 by a team lead by R.D. Beeston in search for gold. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;DVCA was officially opened in 1986 by the then Chief Minister of Sabah, Joseph Pairin. It was further upgraded to Class I Protected Forest Reserve, which means no logging license can be legally issued to log this area. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EVqvI07BI/AAAAAAAAAT8/B83Dk7Yxzg0/s1600-h/Location.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 304px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436150049165077522" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EVqvI07BI/AAAAAAAAAT8/B83Dk7Yxzg0/s400/Location.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Currently, the main sponsors of DVCA are Yayasan Sabah and the U.K Royal Society; and it’s managed by a committee consists of Government officers and universities. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The location of DVCA within the Yayasan Sabah logging concession area is shown in the picture in the left. Imagine the irreplaceable old growth forest that had been logged, being logged and to be logged from this vast concession area. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Getting there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;The only way to get to DVCA is to go through Lahad Dato (Sabah). There is a transport service between the office in Lahad Dato and the field center in DVCA every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. The transport departs from DVCA around 10:00am and leaves the office (Lahad Dato) around 3:00pm. The journey takes about 2 hours of bumpy ride on mainly trail road cleared for logging activities. Should we thank the logging companies for building the road? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436141715072924418" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EOFoOauwI/AAAAAAAAASs/pZUdv4pUm4Y/s400/DVCA_sign.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Facilities&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are only two places where visitors can stay in Danum Valley. For budget travelers (myself included), the Danum Valley Field Centre (DVFC) provides excellent accommodation at very reasonable and affordable rates. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Danum Valley Rainforest Lodge is for those looking for luxurious accommodation and 5-star services. Since luxury wasn’t on my itinerary, I went to DVFC and left some room for those who wanted the experience of having their nails polished deep inside a tropical rain forest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At DVFC there are 2 huge dormitories, male and female, for budget travelers and unsponsored researchers. The male dormitory can easily house more than 80 people. However, the bathroom is rather small and do expect a long queue if the dorm is fully occupied. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There are also a few private rooms for sponsored researchers and travelers who are willing to pay a bit more for privacy and the comfort of AC and individual bathroom. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;3 meals and afternoon tea are included and is served at the canteen, which is located about 1 km away from the dorms. There is also a mini market that sells essential items such as batteries, leech socks, biscuits, soft drinks etc. The lab and computer center are off limits to the visitors. The research assistants and staff live in the linked houses provided to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A small but complete weather station was commissioned a few years ago and it is recording valuable daily weather data for research purposes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Attractions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole of DVFC is surrounded by thick vegetation that is mainly made up of &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dipterocarp&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; forest. “Dipterocarp” literally means “2-winged fruits”. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;For most visitors, the main attraction is wildlife watching and there are plenty of them in DVCA. Wild orangutans are frequent visitors to the field centre during fruiting season in the surrounding forest. I was fortunate enough to see three of them feeding in the trees just behind the canteen. They stayed there for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436141724917851410" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EOGM5oZRI/AAAAAAAAAS0/VeCiMubSXAg/s400/OranUtan.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Wild orangutan seen in the field centre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Occasionally, gibbons (Siamang in local language) can be seen swinging gracefully in the trees around the field centre. Their loud vocalization can be heard early in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436141732819262018" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EOGqVeWkI/AAAAAAAAAS8/NmtyyrRsPgA/s400/Gibbon.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wild gibbon seen in the forest &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;If you visit DVCA at the right time of the year, you may be lucky enough to see families of pigmy elephants. According to the research assistants at the field centre, the elephants move between the forests in Sabah in fixed time cycles. Unfortunately, many of the forests in their path have been cleared and turned into oil palm plantations where unwanted conflicts occur. There are many theories with regards to their origin. The widely acceptable one is their ancestors were the now extinct Java elephants imported by the then Sulu Sultan a few hundred years ago. However, recent DNA studies reviewed they are an entirely new sub-species. We shall leave this to the experts. I was lucky enough to find - their dried dung pads in the forest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436142121957842546" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EOdT_V3nI/AAAAAAAAATM/0As_fCouDF0/s400/Elephant_dung.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Dried dung pad left by pigmy elephants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Besides orangutans and gibbons, a bearded wild pig and a group of deer are the “residents” of the field centre. The pig was seen in the day searching for food in the compound of the field centre while the deer came out at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436141739742583522" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EOHEIH2uI/AAAAAAAAATE/0Z7ESnQPhQI/s400/Bearded_pig_1.JPG" /&gt; The “resident” bearded wild pig&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The elusive and rare Sumatera rhino is believed to still roam the forest within DVCA, but nobody has even seen one except for their dried dung since many years ago.&lt;br /&gt;The other less elusive wildlife is the Red Leaf Monkeys, civet cats (musang in local language), bats and many hornbills and birds. The Nocturnal Tarsier is another elusive primate that only an experienced ranger can find in the dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No visitors can escape the intimate yet “bloody” encounters with the leeches in DVCA. They move swiftly and latch on any warm body effortlessly. I learnt through hard experience that once they latched on, don’t pull or burn them off unless you want a bleeding wound that attracts more of them. The wound will also remain itchy for months. The best way is to use some salt on them to make them release willingly, or just let them be if you are a generous blood donor. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436142129522536482" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EOdwK58CI/AAAAAAAAATU/AHMEssgoybg/s400/Leech.JPG" /&gt;Bloody blood sucker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There are a few beautiful water falls in DVCA and accessible from the field centre if you are prepared to walk for a few hours. The furthest one is Purut falls which takes about 8 hours for a return trip. Tembaling falls requires about half the time and the track is relatively easier. In fact, the field centre gets its water supply from here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436142140931983362" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EOearISAI/AAAAAAAAATc/DsaQchMZVCk/s400/DVCA_tracks.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;sign board showing the trails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After a tiring walk through the humid jungle, a dip in the fresh, cold water refreshes better than a pint of icy cold beer. Besides, beer doesn’t wash away the sweat and the smell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A few short trails are also available around the field centre for the less adventurous visitors. There are also a few observation towers along these short trails which serve as an excellent bird watching platforms. Even you are not into feathered creatures, spending half an afternoon alone up on one of these platforms in the quiet jungle calms down messy minds embattled by office politics or nagging spouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A night drive on a 4WD on the bumpy road is the closest thing to night safari in a tropical rain forest and the quickest way to spot some nocturnal creatures. However, don’t go on a night when storm or rain is expected. That was another hard lesson for me. Not a single animal was spotted for 2 hours no matter how hard our experienced ranger was trying with his powerful flash light. I guess the animals could smell the looming storm and were all in hiding that night, in which more than 30mm of down pour was recorded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another not to be missed sight is the sun rise on an observation tower located on a small hill about 1 hour drive from the field centre. Under the early morning light, the forest submerged in mist seems mystical and yet heavenly peaceful and calm. It’s better than the best scenes in “Lord of the rings”. You just have to see and experience it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436142291277020658" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EOnKwLffI/AAAAAAAAAT0/f7RbYMfhPsg/s400/Sunrise-3.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Sun rise in Danum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436142147571565026" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EOezaIQeI/AAAAAAAAATk/Tv2iWx76uIw/s400/Sunrise-1.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436142152149990146" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EOfEdtewI/AAAAAAAAATs/kVqfRHnJOGM/s400/Sunrise-2.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Jungle in the mist &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;During my 5 days stay at the field centre, I slept soundly every night, something I rarely enjoy at home in PJ where the traffic never stops.&lt;br /&gt;Danum Valley is indeed a well managed forest reserve and makes a great show case for rain forest conservation. As long as we have those people in power who thinks that trees are more valuable dead than alive, the destruction of our priceless natural heritage is unavoidable. The current efforts in conservation are, at best, delaying it to happen. And that, my fellow earthlings, is a very sad reality to learn. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-4770992194941337367?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9-wcsWXmuBrxNtOtvdUx2bEy29s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9-wcsWXmuBrxNtOtvdUx2bEy29s/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/y935j1OpXk8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/4770992194941337367/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=4770992194941337367" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/4770992194941337367?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/4770992194941337367?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/y935j1OpXk8/danum-valley-conservation-area.html" title="Danum Valley Conservation Area" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S3EVqvI07BI/AAAAAAAAAT8/B83Dk7Yxzg0/s72-c/Location.bmp" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2010/02/danum-valley-conservation-area.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYHSH44eSp7ImA9WxBXFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-4910037321368760234</id><published>2010-01-27T13:42:00.007+11:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T14:15:39.031+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-27T14:15:39.031+11:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Comments" /><title>In Search for Shangrila</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S1-sIpPJJ2I/AAAAAAAAASE/zO555zRFuM0/s1600-h/shangrilaskycaptain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431248940140406626" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S1-sIpPJJ2I/AAAAAAAAASE/zO555zRFuM0/s320/shangrilaskycaptain.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;According to the legend, Shangrila is a hidden paradise on earth where her people are free from aging, sickness and suffering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coincidently, there are similar versions of Shangrila in many different civilizations. For example, the Tibetans call it “Shamala”, the Chinese had story about 桃花源, it’s Eden for the Middle Eastern folks. Peter Pan’s Neverland is another good example of how human long for a peaceful, suffering free and ever lasting place to live at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There have been a lot of writings and even researches on Shangrila. Most of them focused on the possible locations of this mystical, even magical paradise on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In summary, Shangrila must be located at a place where the geology, hydrology and climate are at their optimal balance. The soil, nourished by flowing clean rivers, is fertile and well structured. The climate is moderate for agriculture and yet cools enough to suppress most harmful pathogen activities. This will guarantee sufficient supply of good quality food all year round and very few diseases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431248734537073666" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S1-r8rTfRAI/AAAAAAAAAR8/v4NwiaCEAU0/s400/shangrila1.jpg" /&gt; However, there is a more important factor than the physical aspects of the place – the social-cultural aspect of her population. Dump a bunch of fascist bigots there and Shangrila no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my humble opinion, there are several essential social-cultural aspects that people in Shangrila believe and most importantly practice to make her Shangrila and not Pol Pot’s Cambodia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first and foremost important is – NO organized religions exist in Shangrila. There were more human lives lost in holy wars and other religious conflicts than all the other wars combined. Besides, millions were tortured, agonized and discriminated by the same great organized religions that preached universal love and eternal compassion. In addition, organized religions bring with them their holy men, messengers, preachers and whatnot. They do best at regulating everyone’s daily life and limiting creativities with big jargons like “eternal Hell fire”, “Divine Punishment”, “Holy retribution” by the All loving, all forgiving Holy Creator.&lt;br /&gt;So, organized religions are definitely a no-no if Shangrila is to stay as Shangrila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contrary to what most people may want to argue, spirituality would actually flourish in absence of organized religions which makes monoculture mandatory. It becomes a boundless personal pursuance without the fear of witch hunting. &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 243px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431249548274318882" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S1-ssCtkPiI/AAAAAAAAASU/ueeCgEjCPfM/s320/burning.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;The second is real, practiced equality in her society. This means full sexual equality that frees half of the population from all forms discriminations and restrictions. The women are empowered to contribute as much as the men. This also means all forms of slavery and bondages don’t exist in Shangrila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shangrila’s people must also have advancements in science and at the same time appreciation for art, literatures and music. One of the most important benefits from science is birth control, which effectively frees the female population from the burden of repeated cycles of pregnancy, nursing and bringing up children. This enables them to have time for other activities and enjoy life on different levels. Before you jump up and invoke divine curse on me, I have to elaborate more on this. By no means, I m not implying that reproduction and caring for next generation is a bad thing. Without birth control and real sexual equality, female population would be reduced to organic baby producing devices. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S1-u4K6bK6I/AAAAAAAAASc/InZJlKNt-ZQ/s1600-h/delhi_slum_135_105.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 135px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 105px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431251955657419682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S1-u4K6bK6I/AAAAAAAAASc/InZJlKNt-ZQ/s400/delhi_slum_135_105.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Take a tour to the slums in Mumbai or Dhaka and look at the &lt;em&gt;skinny&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;exhausted&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;broken&lt;/em&gt; young women who have a dozen or more children. Birth control and sexual equality are both prohibited, well, by the all encompassing, universal organized religions which they’re born into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medical treatments, transportation are some of the other benefits of scientific advancement, just to name a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There must be distinctive differences in Shangrila’s culture compared to what we have today. Difference and uniqueness are respected and accepted rather than “tolerated”. Social justice must be an essence in their society. The most important factors to incubate these unique cultural features is abundant food and water supplies as well as absence of life threatening elements such as invaders, catastrophic disasters and fatal pandemic; or annoying people such as preachers of universal love who call you brother/sister only after you join them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about those wonderful human natural instincts such as violence, greed, anger, ignorance, jealousy etc, you may wonder. We can see the full manifestations of these amazing values in our past and present great achievers the likes of Hitler, Mao, Pol Pot, Osama, Mugabe etc.&lt;br /&gt;I would like to propose that in a small and close society where everyone is treated equally and with abundant of food and safe shelter, these human natures don’t manifest into physical behaviors that affect the others, or at least the impacts are minimal.&lt;br /&gt;For example, you may like the new boat that your neighbour just built. In the small neighborhood where everyone knows everybody, you can’t steal it and claim it yours. Since you have a small family and food is abundant, you have all the time in this world to build yourself a better boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If after you have read this and say to yourself, “this ain’t too hard.” You may already have a plan to get a few close friends, buy a piece of land remote from the corrupted world and start your own Shangrila under your lead.&lt;br /&gt;That may not be a bad idea. Many had tried it before with mixed results. We call them collectively as CULTS. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-4910037321368760234?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/t1THe5fJuFjJICOxwQ0q8DZ0UPk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/t1THe5fJuFjJICOxwQ0q8DZ0UPk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/U--SrRTMno8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/4910037321368760234/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=4910037321368760234" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/4910037321368760234?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/4910037321368760234?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/U--SrRTMno8/in-search-for-shangrila.html" title="In Search for Shangrila" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S1-sIpPJJ2I/AAAAAAAAASE/zO555zRFuM0/s72-c/shangrilaskycaptain.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-search-for-shangrila.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQBQng9eip7ImA9WxBQE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-8315314464158390204</id><published>2010-01-13T02:55:00.008+11:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T03:22:33.662+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-13T03:22:33.662+11:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>Happily ever after</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S0ygMP3UtFI/AAAAAAAAARs/78vTg4oNcrQ/s1600-h/wedding.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425887783352054866" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S0ygMP3UtFI/AAAAAAAAARs/78vTg4oNcrQ/s400/wedding.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;This is based on a real story. Well, as usual, only the fictional parts are fictional. Don’t we all get confused sometimes. :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;______________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;It was a warm and lazy Sunday afternoon. The tropical sun was mercilessly scorching the workers who were laying the asphalt on the road. Inside Angie’s room, the air conditioner was at full blast. Her two good friends were there too, and they were chatting excitedly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;“I m so happy for you, Angie. Finally, the biggest day of your life has come. Have you decided which studio to take the photos?” Lin asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;"No. Not yet. Ming has been busy lately with his project. It’s closing phase now.” Angie answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;“That can’t be more important than your wedding, can it?” Michelle joined in.&lt;br /&gt;“He’s under immense pressure from his manager and I don’t want to trouble him now.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“What about the wedding reception? Have you completed the guest list?”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m working on that now. Ming wants to make it simple and spend less on the wedding dinner. We want to save some money for our honey moon.” Angie said.&lt;br /&gt;“What excuse is that? This is the least a man can do for to make his wife and family proud.” Lin said.&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah. There are a lot of things you need to do, Angie. For example, choose the color of the ribbons, your new bed sheet, curtains, find the shoes that match your wedding gown, etc etc etc. your have to make sure you look stunning on your big day.” Michelle was married to a wealthy business man last year and was speaking from her experience.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh. There are a lot of things. I didn’t think about those.” Angie felt a bit uneasy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“By the way, have you bought some new underwear for the wedding?” Michelle asked.&lt;br /&gt;“Why do I need new underwear? I’m not showing them like supergirl does.” They all laughed.&lt;br /&gt;“Of course you need new underwear. You can’t possibly be wearing some old ones under the beautiful dress. Everything has to be perfect, girl. That’s your biggest day. It’s your wedding.”&lt;br /&gt;“I never thought getting married can be so hectic.” Angie answered with a sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“No worries. There is a sales starting today at the Mega Mall. We can choose some sexy lingerie for you. You shall be the princess of the day.” Lin suggested.&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah, Ming will crawl on his knees just to kiss your toes.” They laughed and got ready to go shopping.&lt;br /&gt;________________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;Ming was trying hard to complete the report on his computer but his mind was blank. He realised he was just staring at the computer screen without typing a single key for the last 10 minutes. Giving out a long sigh, he knew he needed a break. Without thinking much, he dialed his good buddy’s number and asked him to go for coffee.&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angie and her friends were moving at snail pace on the main road due to a massive traffic jam. Michelle was getting restless and she kept changing the radio channel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“What the hell is going on? This is really unusual for a Sunday afternoon.” Michelle was obviously upset.&lt;br /&gt;“Ming just called. There is a demonstration in the city. That’s the reason of the slow traffic.” Angie explained.&lt;br /&gt;“What’s it about?”&lt;br /&gt;“I think he said it’s the protest against the violations of human right in Sri Lanka by the military towards the Tamils.”&lt;br /&gt;“Where is Sri Lanka? Why do we care?” Lin joined in.&lt;br /&gt;“I think it’s somewhere in Africa. You know, they always fight there. Poor countries have nothing else better to do.” Michelle said.&lt;br /&gt;“Whatever. We better hurry up. I don’t wanna miss this week ‘Gossips’ on TV. I wonder if Tom Cruise is really having a divorce.” Lin said.&lt;br /&gt;“We are not getting anywhere in this traffic, girls.” Angie said with a sigh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;___________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Meanwhile, at the café, Ming and Johnny were happily sipping ice coffee and getting updates from each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“So. What made you decide to bite the bullet and tie the knots?” Johnny asked jokingly.&lt;br /&gt;“Well, I’m tired of the dating days. I guess it’s about time to settle down and have some good family life. We have been dating for 3 yeas now. It’s my responsible to marry her. That’s the right thing to do, I guess.”&lt;br /&gt;“Good on you, old man.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Save some money on telephone bill too.” Ming answered jokingly.&lt;br /&gt;“Not a bad plan. Cut back on dating and focus your energy on more important things.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“The big boss from US came to the office last week and announced re-structuring plan” Ming started in a more serious voice.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh no. Are you affected in any way?”&lt;br /&gt;“I escaped narrowly this time. Had I not been close to my country manager, it would be me instead of that guy, Albert, from the technical team. Now, I have to double up to cover his jobs too. Things are not going well.”&lt;br /&gt;“Take it easy, man.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Johnny, I can’t take it easy. There are so many things I need to take care of. The wedding is driving me mad. Everything costs money, I mean lots of it. The reception, the dowry for Angie’s family, the wedding dresses and photos, the honey moon and the list goes on. I haven’t even paid up the credit card bills for the last 2 months”&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t forget the new furniture.” Johnny said.&lt;br /&gt;“Yea man. If I lose my job now, I will be well done.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Have you talked to Angie about these troubles?” Johnny asked with a more concerned tone.&lt;br /&gt;“I can’t. I don’t want to let her know that I m weak and vulnerable. You know, she always thinks that I m the strong person who can support and provide for her. I want to give her good life after we are married”&lt;br /&gt;“You better watch your back then, iron man.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“To compound the problem, Angie has a very demanding mother. The last few months had been, to put it in management term, very challenging. To top it up, this is just the wedding, the beginning of our marriage.” Ming said in a rather sarcastic voice.&lt;br /&gt;“Well, a lot of people mistaken wedding as marriage. Wedding is the most important moment, if you care to ask any of your lady friends.” Johnny replied jokingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After a brief silence, Ming tried to change the subject.&lt;br /&gt;“So, what about you? Have you found anyone when you were overseas?”&lt;br /&gt;“No. You know me, Ming. I like to roam freely. Moreover, I don’t always do the right thing at the right time.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Face it. Miss M is not coming back. Get over and move on.”&lt;br /&gt;Johnny took a sip of the ice coffee and answered softly.&lt;br /&gt;“It’s not all about her, my friend.”&lt;br /&gt;“Ok. Tell me what you have been doing all these years.”&lt;br /&gt;“I’ve been traveling in Indochina and doing volunteer work since I left my previous company. It’s really fulfilling to know that my work has made life better for others.”&lt;br /&gt;“In two years, I’ve seen and learnt so much. I think I’m the one actually benefiting. You’d never imagine what some MNC from rich countries are doing to reap profit from the poor people.”&lt;br /&gt;“Well, I’m all ears. Tell me all about it.” Ming said excitedly.&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Back home, Ming had worked on the report for another 4 hours until he was too sleepy to open his eyes. He decided to go to bed early and wake up early tomorrow to finish the last part on executive summary. Just then, the phone rang and it was Angie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Hey. I have bought some lingerie at Mega Mall. Guess what color?”&lt;br /&gt;“I have no idea. As long as you like them.”&lt;br /&gt;“What color do you think we should choose for our new curtain? I like the one with Tweetie Bird on it.”&lt;br /&gt;“That should be fine, dear” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Have you done the short-list of restaurants that I told you to do last week?”&lt;br /&gt;“Sorry. I haven’t got the time to look at that yet.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“What? You always have time for your work and your friends but not our wedding. I m still not your first priority even our wedding is in 2 months time. Can you please put in a little more effort in our wedding?” Angie raised her voice a few decibel.&lt;br /&gt;“It’s not that, dear. You know I love you and m looking forward to our marriage. I can’t wait to get into our married life.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“You know Michelle’s husband took care of everything for their wedding. He also accompanied her to choose her outfit and booked a boat for their wedding photo shooting. Now, I can’t even get you to shortlist a few restaurants? What about the guess list that I have to do on my own? You just don’t have the heart for me. Mother was right about you.” Angie started sobbing on the other end of the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425888113703011810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 392px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 297px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S0ygfehIReI/AAAAAAAAAR0/qUZ6E0zkmJg/s400/diana.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ming let out a long sigh, silently. He knew his plan to wake up early to finish off the report was blown and he would have a lot to explain to his manager.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-8315314464158390204?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KzMXH2CTNS7yIHcYNN7GRavUfno/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KzMXH2CTNS7yIHcYNN7GRavUfno/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/JKI3ewgL2Wo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/8315314464158390204/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=8315314464158390204" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/8315314464158390204?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/8315314464158390204?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/JKI3ewgL2Wo/happily-ever-after.html" title="Happily ever after" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/S0ygMP3UtFI/AAAAAAAAARs/78vTg4oNcrQ/s72-c/wedding.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2010/01/happily-ever-after.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQGQng7fSp7ImA9WxBSF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-1333272589539355905</id><published>2009-12-25T16:59:00.007+11:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T17:42:03.605+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-25T17:42:03.605+11:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Latest trend" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Comments" /><title>Irresistible women</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There have been some female friends of mine who complained about not getting their partners’ attention or the TLC they were entitled to. Well…&lt;br /&gt;Not that I am an expert in understanding women, in my humble opinion, there are several unique characteristics that make women irresistible male magnets, as far as long term attraction is concerned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first is Independence. She has her own life to live and maintain her lifestyle by choice. It may not be a lavish or in layman term “high maintenance” type of lifestyle. She doesn’t depend on someone to provide her happiness; instead she derives it from her own hobbies and interests. Hence, her world doesn’t revolve around anyone, particularly her partner. She has her own time table and arrangements and follows her own pace.&lt;br /&gt;In contrast, women who play “up to you” and “whatever” games are the ones who annoy everyone around them, including themselves. They usually blame everyone but themselves for not providing happiness. The highest level is to play the “guilt” game which goes like: “you are my husband (boyfriend). Is it not your responsibility to make me happy?” or “You are my husband (boyfriend). Don’t you know what I like?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOH! Wouldn’t you wish you had dated a PS3 instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Self respect is probably the next one on the list. She who has self respect respects others. This includes his privacy, his personal space and his family and friends, In return, she gets the same from her partner.&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, women who haven’t enough self respect tend to be more possessive. “I am his wife (girlfriend), I have the RIGHT to know everything about him”. Hence, checking his SMS, hacking his email, demanding hourly updates on his night out, controlling his expenses even stalking happen naturally. Thanks to modern Information Technologies, now she can even stalk you on facebook. Who’s that bitch you added yesterday? why didn’t you upload our pictures? Yada yada yada…&lt;br /&gt;Even if you are not half the speed of Bolt, dash; if you still want your sanity and self respect intact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confidence, the twin sister of self respect, is the next irresistible charm of a woman. This is manifested in how she speaks, how she dresses up, how she interacts and socializes. A confident woman doesn’t fish for compliments and talk bad of others to “uplift” herself. She knows herself and seldom intimidated by younger or prettier or richer women. More importantly, she doesn’t interrogate her partner to find out about his ex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of people confused confidence with “cockiness”. The most distinctive difference is self respect as explained before. Women who play hard-to-get or just plain cocky lack self respects and respects for others, as well as the right eye contacts and usually pleasant smiles. That’s the reason you feel comfortable and relaxed talking to a confident woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SzReFi9ohXI/AAAAAAAAARk/033i5e4BOS4/s1600-h/insecure+woman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 157px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 189px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419059701011219826" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SzReFi9ohXI/AAAAAAAAARk/033i5e4BOS4/s400/insecure+woman.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The opposite is insecure women who are products of little self confidence. They would do the opposite of a confident woman: Crave for attentions, fish for compliments, jealous frequently, over dressed, overly sensitive. They all have one common interest – to find out everything about their partners’ ex and everything about their ex after a breakup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a nutshell, women with self respect and confidence live in the present and look forward for the future, whereas lacking of them makes women live in the past and hard to move forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next one is sense of humor. Generally, people with sense of humor are more pleasant and take things easily. This is not to be confused with lack of seriousness. Sense of humor enables us to laugh at ourselves move on in the face of failure. It’s also the ice-breaker in social interaction and the lubricant to reduce a looming conflict. Relationship lacking sense of humor would make it dull and, well, very mechanical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SzRV9HvObbI/AAAAAAAAARU/NYT-OiYuzfk/s1600-h/photo_mimpi_06_2008_CUT_MUTHIA_NOVASYACH_13-52-08_500x250.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 178px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419050760171056562" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SzRV9HvObbI/AAAAAAAAARU/NYT-OiYuzfk/s400/photo_mimpi_06_2008_CUT_MUTHIA_NOVASYACH_13-52-08_500x250.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;However, if you just after short term attraction from men, wear a tight mini skirt and loosen the top 3 buttons of your shirt. As simple as that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-1333272589539355905?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EnIG7n_pcx-HeNOt0txQFECu6MU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EnIG7n_pcx-HeNOt0txQFECu6MU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/VPIr7KznGI4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/1333272589539355905/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=1333272589539355905" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/1333272589539355905?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/1333272589539355905?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/VPIr7KznGI4/irresistible-women.html" title="Irresistible women" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SzReFi9ohXI/AAAAAAAAARk/033i5e4BOS4/s72-c/insecure+woman.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2009/12/irresistible-women.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4FQ3c7eyp7ImA9WxNTF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-2699035392864487994</id><published>2009-08-21T01:55:00.008+10:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T02:15:12.903+10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-21T02:15:12.903+10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>City of sin</title><content type="html">I got the idea of this story while I was on the train going from Bangkok to Hatyai in January 2009. wrote most of it in the quiet weekend night at Goulburn TAFE residence. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;_______________________________________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/So11KwyeJWI/AAAAAAAAARM/VzhwfVSiET0/s1600-h/city%26slum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372078758278604130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 395px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/So11KwyeJWI/AAAAAAAAARM/VzhwfVSiET0/s400/city%26slum.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The traffic in the city is still busy even it is already past ten o’clock at night. Where is everyone rushing to go to? Sometimes I wonder. Everybody seems to be going some where and they don’t even have time to look at each other. Their look lost no matter how much money they spent on the cloth pieces that draped around their other wise naked bodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lights in her unit are still on. This means the man is probably still there with her. It doesn’t matter. I can wait. I have the time and patience of the whole world with me. I can sit here all night long without even being noticed by anyone passing by me. I am a part of the features of this big city; just like the furniture in an office, nobody cares to give a first look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s just fine for me. I can come and go un-noticed to perform my obligations in this world. It’s not something pleasant but somebody has to do it. Although we are not supposed to meet, I know there are thousands of us who are performing similar obligations. GOD gave us HIS clear instructions – get their confessions or rid the world of shameful sins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With GOD’s will, I have already perfected my skill after all these years. I have the tools and skill to perform my obligation efficiently in the shortest possible time. My tools are all in my bag which I have checked before I left home. I m meticulous when it comes to performing my obligations for GOD.&lt;br /&gt;I can still remember how clumsy I was the first time I did it. GOD tests and trials all HIS servants, but HE also guides and shows them through divine means. We just have to read HIS signs with faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My precious collection will be my testimony of faith to GOD when HE finally decides to call me back to HIM. Such precious should not be in possession of those who had sinned. They should all go back to GOD when I finally meet HIM. I always keep them safely on me and I had sworn to protect them with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A police woman just walked past me and she didn’t even notice my existence. I blend in perfectly in the city. In fact, I m part of the city. People will be missing something if I m not here one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last light has just been switched off in her apartment. I will get ready for my job.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh Father in Heaven. Praise your name king of the mightiest. Give me strength to perform what you have obligated me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Detective Lynda is awaken by the phone at 5am.&lt;br /&gt;“You better come and take a look. There’s another case.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“When? Where?”&lt;br /&gt;“Body found half an hour ago. The Winners Tower Condominium down town.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pale body lays still on the metal platform. Her facial tissues are so tensed up that her eyes and her nose are drawn close to each other. Her mouth stays opened due to the constricted jaw muscles and open wounds are visible on her lips and tongue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“She looks like she is still screaming” Detective Lynda says to Juan, her assistant.&lt;br /&gt;“She bit herself many time, must be really in pain.”&lt;br /&gt;“You would bloody too!” Replied Lynda angrily and pointed to the body’s hands and feet.&lt;br /&gt;“Yes. I can see that.” Juan answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the nails on the fingers and toes are gone and they are dark brown from the bleeding and bruising.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“They were pulled out one by one with force. I can’t imagine the pain.”&lt;br /&gt;“What the forensic say?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“She was chloroformed, tied up, nails pulled before the jugular was cut with probably a surgical scalpel. She was left bleeding to death.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If I catch this psycho, I’ll personally smash his balls with a hammer.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the people who know him call him “gecko”, for his ability to climb and break in. He has a name which he wants to forget. It seems very, very long ago, the days when his mother was still around. She used to call him Jun, the first syllabus of his real name which he tries hard to forget. His childhood was happy but short. It ended when he was eight after his father fell from a construction site 20 storey above ground. Soon after that, he was not a child anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He remembers the frequent visits of some “uncles” at night and the voices from his mother’s room, which forced an eight year old to understand what “adult” meant. He knew his mother had no choice, being a single mother with 2 young children. Every time his mother took another “uncle” into her room, he would hide under his blanket and pray to GOD to give him strength and power to take his family away from all these. The next day, he and his younger sister would get some coins to buy ice cream and they would have chicken for dinner. He hated himself for not strong enough to support his family; and he hated himself more for not being able to resist the good food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a good dinner, the cockroaches would come to get their feast at the rubbish bin. Sometimes even some rats would turn up. He would be waiting at the bin with a thick rolled up news paper and whacked the cockroaches as hard as he could. He felt all his shame vindicated when their bodies were crushed with a “splash”, as if they were the men who abused his mother. Occasionally, he was fast enough to hit a running rat which knocked it out and would have some fun time taking care of it later.&lt;br /&gt;He chopped off the tail and threw the rat into an old cooking pot half filled with water. When the water started to boil slowly, the frantic sound of the rat scratching and banging against the metal cover made him feel that he had finally claimed his revenge against the unjust world. When he grew older, he learnt a new trick from a rubbish collector. He chopped off the paws from the captured rat and then soaked it in kerosene, set it on fire before letting it loose. Without the paws, the rat kept falling over when it tried to run away. He would stand and watch until the hair and skin of the rat were all burnt while it was still alive. He then threw the rat into a bucket of hot salt water before finishing it off by crushing the skull under his shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The squeaking and scratching. Just fucking makes you high”. He used to tell his friends about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He never forgets his 13 year old birthday. He went home and found his mother strangled in bed, naked and with her hands and feet tied on the bed poles. The government took his sister away and put her in an orphanage. He ran away and had never used his real name since then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is now 20 years old and has been going in and out from juvenile detention and prison for God knows how many times.&lt;br /&gt;“Who gives a shit” He likes to say.&lt;br /&gt;Although he has been on the street for so many years, he has been booked but for petite crimes like snatching, break in, mugging etc. His mates call him “Gecko Chicken” because he has no balls to do real jobs.&lt;br /&gt;“We shall see who really has balls, one day.” He used to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has been eyeing the lady for at least 30 minutes now. She is holding 2 plastic bags full of grocery and a small blue backpack is hanging on her right shoulder. A middle age woman who looks like thousands of average women in this city; and she probably has a very common name too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“An easy target.” Gecko says to himself.&lt;br /&gt;From experience, he knows her wallet is in the blue backpack, which probably contains one month worth of grocery for her family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly, he approaches the lady from behind while pretending to be talking on his mobile. When he is behind her, he pushes her hard on the back and grabs her blue backpack. She falls down on her knees but quickly turns and grabs on one of the shoulder straps of the backpack. Without mercy, Gecko kicks her in the ribs and follows with a big strike on her hand that is holding on the strap. To his surprise, she ignores the assaults and uses the free hand to hold on to another strap. Gecko pulls back and she loses balance and falls face down on the ground, but still holding on tightly.&lt;br /&gt;“You bitch!” Gecko shouts and stomps on her wrists with his hard boots. He hears a crack of broken bone.&lt;br /&gt;She lets out a whine in pain and let go. Gecko grabs the backpack and runs to the waiting motorbike. The woman gets up and starts chasing after them on foot. Her face is bleeding from the abrasion and the broken wrist swings when she runs.&lt;br /&gt;“Give it back to me, you thieves” she yells, oblivious to the pain.&lt;br /&gt;His mate speeds off immediately.&lt;br /&gt;“You damned sinners, give me back my …”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Dang! There’s nothing in this backpack! Nothing.” Gecko’s mate is yelling angrily.&lt;br /&gt;“Only one phone card and 2 boxes of this colorful crap. Looks like some broken seashells or fish scales. Worthless shit.”&lt;br /&gt;“Bad luck. Let’s go to Charley’s place to have some booze. I have something important to do later in the night.” Gecko says to his mate.&lt;br /&gt;“Why do you sometimes disappear at night? Where did you go? You are not screwing some bitches secretly, are you?”&lt;br /&gt;“Mind your own business and shut up. Let’s go OK.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gecko opens his eyes slowly and realizes that he can’t move his limbs. To his horror, he finds himself tightly tied to an arm chair and his mouth is also gagged. There is a light shining directly in his face, blinding him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Do you know that you have sinned?” suddenly a voice breaks the silence. It is cold and without emotions.&lt;br /&gt;Gecko shakes his head trying to free himself. He tries to speak but the gag is too tight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“In the name of GOD all mighty, I shall perform my obligation to punish a sinner. I give you one last chance. Are you willing to confess your sins?” says the voice. Gecko can’t see the person who is behind the bright light.&lt;br /&gt;Gecko jerks frantically and wants to scream but muffled by the gag.&lt;br /&gt;“Very well, sinner. You have refused GOD’s offer. I shall perform my duty now.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweats starts to wet his shirt as he realizes what is coming upon him. The clanging metallic parts bring back the old images of the rats to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without warning, he feels a sharp pain on his left thumb, which sends a surge to his brain and his whole body. He jerks violently and screams through the thick muffling gag. Sweat all over his body and he is shaking uncontrollably for the pain is too unbearable.&lt;br /&gt;Before the pain settles, he feels something cold, metallic in his mouth and with a jerk, one of his front teeth is broken off. He screams at the top of his voice but can only manage low, choking sound in the throat. All the muscles in his body constrict and cramp.&lt;br /&gt;He doesn’t know where he is anymore. The pain has put him into a different world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/So11KmbhhwI/AAAAAAAAARE/otIy0EhI00c/s1600-h/lust.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372078755498002178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 281px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/So11KmbhhwI/AAAAAAAAARE/otIy0EhI00c/s400/lust.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspector Lynda looks at the body and shakes her head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This one is by far the worst. Besides his nails on his fingers and toes, all his teeth were broken off one by one. Poor burger, it would have been more than hell for him.” Juan says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“His nails were pulled before his hands were chopped at the wrist. The purpose was to inflict maximum pain. What sort of devil could have done this?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He must’ve angered someone really badly.” Lynda says while pointing to the body’s naked chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;“THOU SHALL NOT STEAL FROM GOD’S MESSAGER”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is crafted into his skin.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-2699035392864487994?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6-J9W8UwWd31LGBfVftE8gBNKDc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6-J9W8UwWd31LGBfVftE8gBNKDc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/LlHnlKNHMYQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/2699035392864487994/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=2699035392864487994" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/2699035392864487994?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/2699035392864487994?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/LlHnlKNHMYQ/city-of-sin.html" title="City of sin" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/So11KwyeJWI/AAAAAAAAARM/VzhwfVSiET0/s72-c/city%26slum.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2009/08/city-of-sin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkIDSXk-eyp7ImA9WxJVE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-4226807177311726217</id><published>2009-06-30T17:34:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T17:56:18.753+10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-30T17:56:18.753+10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>Thinner</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Recently, there was a case in UK where a 7 year old was starved to death by her mother. This is my take of a similar story. of course, the fictional parts are fictional, including the names.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/5453570/Seven-year-old-girl-starved-to-death-by-her-mother.html"&gt;http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/5453570/Seven-year-old-girl-starved-to-death-by-her-mother.html&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SknFAHuPuoI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/DPkxaCbviNM/s1600-h/anorexia4lp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353026237970233986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 316px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SknFAHuPuoI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/DPkxaCbviNM/s400/anorexia4lp.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She took a deep breath after taking off everything on her body, including the rubber band that she used to tie her hair. Very slowly, she stepped on the digital scale and exhaled until her lungs was empty. The scale showed 40.2kg.&lt;br /&gt;“Not good. I have to work harder and control myself”. She thought.&lt;br /&gt;She turned on the light in the bathroom and looked at her naked self in the mirrors. The mirrors were arranged at the right angle so that she could see her front and back without turning around. Her collar bones and ribs were clearly seen, as well as the protruding spines on her back.&lt;br /&gt;“I will have to buy the more of X-slim from Angie later. Have to make Mei-mei to eat more. She is not slimming down at all”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is weekly gathering night that she had never missed since she joined the group. She took a quick shower and drove to the Angie’s house with Mei-mei.&lt;br /&gt;On the way, Mei-mei was sitting quietly with her head down.&lt;br /&gt;“What’s the matter, my dear?”&lt;br /&gt;“I m hungry, mom.” Mei-mei answered in a very soft voice.&lt;br /&gt;“What? You are already over weight and all you can think of is food? Do you want to be a fatso when you grow up and have no husband?”&lt;br /&gt;Mei-mei dropped her head and kept quiet for the rest of the journey.&lt;br /&gt;“My dear, I m doing this for your own good. It is more painful if no man want you, than to control your weight and look pretty. Look, all these X-trim products are not cheap and I m working very hard just to pay for them.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was already a small crowd at Angie’s house when they arrived.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh my! Linda. You look slim and great. How I wish I can look like you.” Angie greeted them at the door. Linda loved to be complimented. This was the only pleasure she had after her husband left one year ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gathering started with everyone chanting the weekly motivation slogan.&lt;br /&gt;“We can and we shall make it. X-trim, Xtrim, we shall be slim”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the chanting, it was the weighing session.&lt;br /&gt;Linda waited nervously when Mei-mei stepped on the scale.&lt;br /&gt;“Have you been eating our X-trim product everyday as per my instruction?” Angie asked Mei-mei.&lt;br /&gt;“Yes. Auntie Angie.”&lt;br /&gt;“Mei-mei, you have gained 1 kg since I weighed you last week. Give her a boo, everyone. Mei-mei is a failure.”&lt;br /&gt;Mei-mei stepped down from the scale slowly and didn’t dare to look at Linda.&lt;br /&gt;After the gathering, Linda dragged Mei-mei to the car in brisk steps.&lt;br /&gt;“Come on. You useless fatso. You are really good for nothing. You must be eating secretly at school. I have to see your teacher tomorrow.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ms Linda. You have to understand. Mei-mei is 10 years old. It is perfectly normal for children at her age to gain weight because she is growing up.” Mei-mei teacher, Mrs. Ravi explained patiently to Linda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t care. I don’t want my daughter to become fat and disgusting. I want her to have good future. I request the school to monitor her and make sure she doesn’t eat anything other than the food I prepared for her.”&lt;br /&gt;“Ms. Linda. This is not the responsibility of the school to do this. Besides, Mei-mei is a very smart child and she needs balanced nutrition for her brain development. The slimming product is not suitable for young children.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh. Now I understand. You had been giving her those fattening food. I know, you are jealous to see us look slim and pretty. Look at yourself, fat and disgusting. Did my ex husband pay you to ruin our lives?”&lt;br /&gt;Linda walked out angrily from the office and slammed the door.&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Ravi shook her head and sighed.&lt;br /&gt;“Poor Mei-mei.” She thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The whole world is against us. Why do they want to ruin our lives? Is it not enough for him to dump me for another woman? Now they want to ruin my daughter’s life too. I have to do more to make sure she doesn’t grow into a disgusting fat girl.” Linda thought while she was driving home.&lt;br /&gt;“I will double the X-trim ration for her everyday. That should make her slim down faster.”&lt;br /&gt;++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;br /&gt;Linda was hysteria and needed 3 men to hold her down when the paramedics put Mei-mei’s pale body onto the ambulance.&lt;br /&gt;“WHY are you taking away my daughter? Give her back to me! You are all jealous and want to make us suffer. She was doing very well and slimming down finally.”&lt;br /&gt;At the hospital, Mei-mei was lying with her eyes closed and her father was sitting by her bed.&lt;br /&gt;The doctor spoke to him earlier about the condition of Mei-mei.&lt;br /&gt;“Your daughter has a serious problem. She had probably consumed large quantity of supplements containing excessive copper and selenium, which caused the liver and kidney to overload. These minerals also suppressed the iron and potassium levels in her body and as a result, they have caused other complications as well. We will do our best.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;++++++++++++++++++++++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Ravi cried when she read the last entry in Mei-mei’s dairy.&lt;br /&gt;“Mommy said I m a useless fatso because I m not slimming down. I hate myself and I don’t want to be a useless and disgusting fat girl. I will eat more X-trim than what mommy gives me so I can slim down quickly. Mommy will be very proud of me when we go to Auntie Angie’s house next week.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-4226807177311726217?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lrAIdXsXRZo5dVN5LCHZQrmF8OI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lrAIdXsXRZo5dVN5LCHZQrmF8OI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/o313HHu0Xts" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/4226807177311726217/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=4226807177311726217" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/4226807177311726217?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/4226807177311726217?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/o313HHu0Xts/thinner.html" title="Thinner" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SknFAHuPuoI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/DPkxaCbviNM/s72-c/anorexia4lp.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2009/06/thinner.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcNQnw4eyp7ImA9WxJWE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-7421442573006954403</id><published>2009-06-19T13:26:00.007+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T13:44:53.233+10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-19T13:44:53.233+10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Comments" /><title>what u don't know can't hurt</title><content type="html">With the advances in information technologies, we must know much much more than the people 50 years ago. Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know these? (&lt;a href="http://www.ilo.org/global/Themes/Child_Labour/lang--en/index.htm"&gt;http://www.ilo.org/global/Themes/Child_Labour/lang--en/index.htm&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;According International Labour Organization, ILO, 2006, there were &lt;strong&gt;218 million&lt;/strong&gt; working children of age &lt;strong&gt;5 to 17 years&lt;/strong&gt; old.&lt;br /&gt;Among them, &lt;strong&gt;74 million&lt;/strong&gt; were working in hazardous environments like mines, chemical plants etc.&lt;br /&gt;Another &lt;strong&gt;8.4 million&lt;/strong&gt; were slaves, child prostitutes, child soldiers etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To put the figures into perspective, 74 million (&lt;strong&gt;74,000,000&lt;/strong&gt;) is equivalent to &lt;strong&gt;1/20th&lt;/strong&gt; of the world children population in that age group. That means, &lt;strong&gt;1 in every 20&lt;/strong&gt; of the children were forced to labour in hazardous environment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are the defenseless group of human being who are suffering in silent, while constantly subjected to physical and sexual abuses. They are forced to work long hours with no pay, and no hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want more figures? In South Asia (India, Pakistan, Bangladesh) there are about &lt;strong&gt;2.2 million&lt;/strong&gt; children working in the carpet making industry. In Cote d’Ivoire (Yes, that’s where the great Chelsea striker &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Didier Drogba&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; comes from), about &lt;strong&gt;100,000 child&lt;/strong&gt; labour work on the cocoa plantations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what have the adults done about all these annoying figures?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surely those righteous adults who yell and scream every week about love and moral must be doing something, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Surely those caring leaders who always say “children are our future” and never forget to remind us “to do it for our children”, must be doing something, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sadly, very little has been done and the figures are in fact growing. I guess, what u don't see or know won't hurt you. out of sight is out of mind, as long as &lt;strong&gt;MY children are still OUR future&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I have no answer to this darkest side of human suffering. However, there are some hopes, but I m not entirely sure how true are the claims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SjsGfMKCiUI/AAAAAAAAAQk/IraChxwRSVY/s1600-h/Fairtrade.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348876115341642050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 254px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 127px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SjsGfMKCiUI/AAAAAAAAAQk/IraChxwRSVY/s400/Fairtrade.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; FAIR TRADE claims to guarantee that products, such as chocolate and coffee, are“slave free” and have not been made using forced labour. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SjsGfYxCciI/AAAAAAAAAQs/kUstNw_6JWk/s1600-h/rugmark.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348876118726439458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SjsGfYxCciI/AAAAAAAAAQs/kUstNw_6JWk/s400/rugmark.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;RUGMARK also claims that no illegal child labour has been used to make the carpet or rug that bears the stamp.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the name of global economy and free trade, how much of the world wealth and economy growth is built on the sweat and blood of those skinny bodies digging in the coal mines? To put in cynically, "&lt;strong&gt;Its bad for business and economy growth to do away with such cheap labour&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SjsH9z8WSuI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/M_IXJZncj_g/s1600-h/Slave5.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348877740929338082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 224px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SjsH9z8WSuI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/M_IXJZncj_g/s400/Slave5.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I m not trying to feast on your guilt here, but the next time you reward your children with a delicious piece of chocolate, give a thought for the thin, scarred hands that picked the cocoa beans. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-7421442573006954403?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MGGEh1cfR-OL6NQyxpQJnLP-C8I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MGGEh1cfR-OL6NQyxpQJnLP-C8I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/sq3xQhLNjkQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/7421442573006954403/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=7421442573006954403" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/7421442573006954403?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/7421442573006954403?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/sq3xQhLNjkQ/what-u-dont-know-cant-hurt.html" title="what u don't know can't hurt" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SjsGfMKCiUI/AAAAAAAAAQk/IraChxwRSVY/s72-c/Fairtrade.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2009/06/what-u-dont-know-cant-hurt.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIFSHw_eCp7ImA9WxJWE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-2846666605369240875</id><published>2009-06-19T12:35:00.013+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T13:51:59.240+10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-19T13:51:59.240+10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>Children are our future</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Dedicate this to the millions of children who are going through similar hardship everyday around the world. whoever read this, pass the message on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/Sjr-1k2EGaI/AAAAAAAAAQU/1DWnORKB_88/s1600-h/Slave4.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348867703832844706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 204px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 153px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/Sjr-1k2EGaI/AAAAAAAAAQU/1DWnORKB_88/s400/Slave4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;The sky was still dark when Maly got up from the wooden plank he was sleeping on. The zinc roofed hut they slept in was almost saturated with smell of urine from a rusty tin container in a corner. The hut had no windows but two small openings in the wall. Maly and his 15 other companions were waiting but nobody said anything. A few minutes later, “Big guy” Le Gros came and opened the lock from outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They went out and were joined by other groups of children at the shed on the cocoa plantation. Le Gros barked some instructions and they were given their tools and rations.&lt;br /&gt;Now, it was the harvesting season. Maly and his companions had to fill up the sacks and transport them to the collection point where the trucks were waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He felt hungry and weak, and the sack full of cocoa beans was getting heavier and heavier. He had to wait for another 4 hours before he could eat his ration of corn and banana paste.&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Think of birds when you are working. Don’t ever think about food.&lt;/span&gt;” That was the advice given to him by Agasi, who was older and taller than Maly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Maly bent over while the other 2 children lifted a big sack and placed it on his back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/Sjr-15KK4PI/AAAAAAAAAQc/l1pi6KNrVO4/s1600-h/Slave3.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348867709285884146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 204px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 153px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/Sjr-15KK4PI/AAAAAAAAAQc/l1pi6KNrVO4/s400/Slave3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He walked difficultly trying to balance the sack but tripped and fell on the ground. He heard an angry shout and almost immediately the burning pain of Le Gros’s cane was on his back and thighs. The other children came to pick up the spilt cocoa beans while he struggled to get up to avoid more beatings. Being beaten was almost a daily event and nobody showed any emotion about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the sun had set, Maly and the children were given a ration of rice and a cup of sweet drink. After eating, they were lead back to their small huts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On their way, Maly saw a big white car drove past them and stopped in front of the manager’s house not far from where they were. A well dressed white man got in the spotlessly white car and it drove off in another direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That’s our big boss, Mr. Santos. Greet him the next time you see him. Understand?”&lt;/span&gt; Le Gros barked out loudly at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Santos and Anna, his pretty personal assistant, entered the VIP room at the airport. The journalist from &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Business Times&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; stood up and greeted them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Thank you so much for coming. I am Andre Luz from &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Business&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Times&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. It’s my pleasure meeting you, Mr. Santos&lt;/span&gt;.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Santos gave him a warm smile and a firm handshake before they sat down on the couch. Andre couldn’t help to notice how pretty Anna was in her well tailored, fitting business suit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mr. Santos, last year you were nominated as the person of the year by the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Environmentalists&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; magazine. Can you tell us more why did you choose to produce your cocoa beans by organic standards?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is simply because I believe in the organic principles of agriculture. I truly believe that everyone has to play his or her part in preserving our environment. Organic farming principles focus in applying environmentally friendly methods to improve soil fertility. The key principle is sustainability. I believe that it is the responsibility of us farmers to take care of the earth and keep the soil healthy. When we leave a farm, the soil should be better and more fertile than when we started&lt;/span&gt;.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Being certified organic, is your operation entirely chemical free?”&lt;/span&gt; Andre continued with the interview.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Definitely. Using chemical pesticides and herbicides pose a heavy toll on our environment. They are polluting our food, soil and water sources. Furthermore, they don’t solve the problems that they were supposed to solve. On all my plantations, we use cultural and biological methods to control pests and weeds.&lt;/span&gt;”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Organic products usually get premium prices in the market. Is this part of the reasons you went for organic certification&lt;/span&gt;?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You are right that organic produce is usually more valuable than conventional produce. But no. It’s not the reason why our farms employ organic methods in out operations&lt;/span&gt;.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Santos looked at Andre and said with his sincere voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The main reason we are doing it organically is because we believe in preserving the environment for our children. We want to give them a pollution free world for them to live better, healthier and happier. &lt;strong&gt;Children ARE our future&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-2846666605369240875?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b7BoxssyxA-Rok_BaovlVNKZopk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b7BoxssyxA-Rok_BaovlVNKZopk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/1bQRSF6C8zA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/2846666605369240875/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=2846666605369240875" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/2846666605369240875?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/2846666605369240875?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/1bQRSF6C8zA/children-are-our-future.html" title="Children are our future" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/Sjr-1k2EGaI/AAAAAAAAAQU/1DWnORKB_88/s72-c/Slave4.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2009/06/children-are-our-future.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8DSXc6fCp7ImA9WxJWEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-8684078625669365034</id><published>2009-06-16T17:31:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T17:37:58.914+10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-16T17:37:58.914+10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Personal Encounters" /><title>Joy of Life</title><content type="html">Sometimes, we don’t realise the passage of time and carry on with life until we are given a gentle tap on the shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I received such a delightful tap just few weeks ago.&lt;br /&gt;My baby sister has her own daughter and now a mother. Little Xin Yue is indeed a bundle of joy. Even I haven’t met her yet, I m sure we will get along vey well in few weeks time when I get home &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347825623482014754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SjdLEhBgnCI/AAAAAAAAAQE/YnvEJS8JGDc/s400/IMG_6760.jpg" border="0" /&gt;                                                      Huaaah! Me need some service here. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347825629440273778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SjdLE3OEbXI/AAAAAAAAAQM/j8krRmuTHvM/s400/IMG_6758.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                                                         Now I can zzzz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all grew and aged, like it or not. I can still remember very clearly many things that happened in our childhood. We used to call her “Bobo”, the cute little bear who always runs along side Yogi Bear in the Hanna Barbara cartoon. They always get into trouble with the ranger for stealing food from the tourists. Hahaa.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was one cry baby, who cried at least twice a day, for whatever reason.&lt;br /&gt;I used to walk her to the kinder garden at the Fairpark church. At home, she would sing to us the children songs she had learnt at school.&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I can still remember a few of them. Like “Pearly shells, by the ocean, shining in the sunlight….”, “one two three four five, once I caught a fish alive, but then I let it go again, why did u like it go, because it bit my finger so…” and “rain rain go away, come again another day…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time flew and the next time I went home, she was already a young girl in her last teen years. I can still remember that time when she cried quietly before me after her first break up. Really broke my heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the next time I went home, it was her wedding. For the first time in my life, I had to give away red packet for a sip of Chinese tea. Everyone in the family was happy and we went to Bahau to attend the wedding dinner. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347825620977983746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SjdLEXsgIQI/AAAAAAAAAP8/Qof83ycj7mE/s400/bo-wedding.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time I go home, I will be greeted by my baby sister and her little baby. How nice. Life ain’t too bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-8684078625669365034?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wCZdd_ZoxfNX8GzSXylgFF20uHI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wCZdd_ZoxfNX8GzSXylgFF20uHI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/niPW460H4k4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/8684078625669365034/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=8684078625669365034" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/8684078625669365034?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/8684078625669365034?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/niPW460H4k4/joy-of-life.html" title="Joy of Life" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SjdLEhBgnCI/AAAAAAAAAQE/YnvEJS8JGDc/s72-c/IMG_6760.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2009/06/joy-of-life.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUAFQHs8fyp7ImA9WxJSFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-5403350986242681865</id><published>2009-05-07T20:54:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T20:55:11.577+10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-07T20:55:11.577+10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Comments" /><title>Darkest day in Malaysia</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Democracy is dead in Malaysia.&lt;br /&gt;I always wanted to keep my blog away from politics, but what has happened, and continue to happen, in my beloved home country is too much for any right minded, thinking human being to bear with.&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.malaysiakini.com/"&gt;www.malaysiakini.com&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;If Right is thumbed by Might, what option are we left with, besides stand up and stand taller than the oppressive might?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to read the news about Zimbabwe, Fiji and other so called failed states with sympathy for the oppressed. Nevertheless, without really relating myself with how they were feeling. Now, I understand fully the agony and disappointment they must had felt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What history will record today 7th May 2009 as?&lt;br /&gt;The day democracy was raped and murdered?&lt;br /&gt;Or the milestone when people’s power finally stood up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whichever, I mourn today as the darkest day of my home town, the once peaceful and beautiful Ipoh.&lt;br /&gt;And to the umno scums and their supporters, go fuck youselves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-5403350986242681865?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LsOjmRwWXBIvoWMWK9s-sIFd1l4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LsOjmRwWXBIvoWMWK9s-sIFd1l4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LsOjmRwWXBIvoWMWK9s-sIFd1l4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LsOjmRwWXBIvoWMWK9s-sIFd1l4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/rbz__b9PdiU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/5403350986242681865/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=5403350986242681865" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/5403350986242681865?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/5403350986242681865?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/rbz__b9PdiU/darkest-day-in-malaysia.html" title="Darkest day in Malaysia" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2009/05/darkest-day-in-malaysia.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEASXs-cCp7ImA9WxJTFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-1114934064479079177</id><published>2009-04-24T09:30:00.007+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T09:50:48.558+10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-24T09:50:48.558+10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Personal Encounters" /><title>WWOOF experience</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="justify"&gt;For those who are wondering, WWOOF stands for “Willing Workers On Organic Farms”. It is a system where travelers work at participating organic farms in exchange for lodging and meals. Every year, thousands of young (and not so young) travelers and farmers benefit from this win-win deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SfD8q_vnUZI/AAAAAAAAAPU/QnnOzgRi81k/s1600-h/pic1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328036174775144850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SfD8q_vnUZI/AAAAAAAAAPU/QnnOzgRi81k/s400/pic1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My first WWOOF location was at Backwater, a beautiful property at Bermagui, NSW.&lt;br /&gt;Backwater is a beautiful piece of property with splendid views of greens and the Cuttagee Lake. There is about an acre of productive organic kiwi orchard, while most of the rest of the 80 acres are devoted for forest conservation and regeneration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house has been well designed and built for comfort. One of the many features is plenty of natural sunlight inside the house. The water front view accompanied by singing birds had made my breakfast enjoyable every day I was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Colin and Anne Browne are the good couple in their golden eighties. They are probably two of the nicest people I have ever met, with seemingly all the calmness, contentment and patience that one can find. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328037242944218274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SfD9pK-95KI/AAAAAAAAAPc/swSqsJ9lVJk/s400/everyone1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their positive energies propagate through their entire farm especially on the animals. The horses and cows are calm and friendly, even to a complete stranger like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I have to mention the 3 dogs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SfD-AUHZjAI/AAAAAAAAAPk/cWTY1SaR5FM/s1600-h/Mickey1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328037640532495362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SfD-AUHZjAI/AAAAAAAAAPk/cWTY1SaR5FM/s400/Mickey1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Mickey is the most playful and he likes to sleep on my bed. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328038027059869538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SfD-W0CtN2I/AAAAAAAAAP0/tSgwRkriqTA/s400/KK_Fred1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Fred likes to snuggle and enjoys a belly rub.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SfD-Ah8J1bI/AAAAAAAAAPs/CrM0V_BUEQo/s1600-h/Lily1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328037644243424690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 333px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 248px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SfD-Ah8J1bI/AAAAAAAAAPs/CrM0V_BUEQo/s400/Lily1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lily, Mickey’s mother, is the quiet one and always waits with hopeful eyes under the dinner table whenever we are eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Colin and Anne are true believers of sustainable living with minimum carbon footprint. Solar power, wood fire, rain water, grow their own greens and collect mushrooms from the bush are just some of the good examples of how they practice sustainability in their simple and yet healthy and pleasurable life style.&lt;br /&gt;They are in their golden eighties and still reasonably active. Anne rides horses regularly and plays golf and table tennis weekly. I am sure they would easily outrun anyone their age or even 10 or 15 years younger.&lt;br /&gt;This is probably due to their active lifestyle when they were younger.&lt;br /&gt;They had their own sail boat when they were living in Papua New Guinea and used to make island hopping their regular holiday program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there is one thing that I have learned from them, it is sustainable lifestyle is both practical and healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Colin and Anne.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-1114934064479079177?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4nH0O34cOgaXrv1GkflAJkYqFP4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4nH0O34cOgaXrv1GkflAJkYqFP4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4nH0O34cOgaXrv1GkflAJkYqFP4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4nH0O34cOgaXrv1GkflAJkYqFP4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/TPr81KNXHiU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/1114934064479079177/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=1114934064479079177" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/1114934064479079177?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/1114934064479079177?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/TPr81KNXHiU/wwoof-experience.html" title="WWOOF experience" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SfD8q_vnUZI/AAAAAAAAAPU/QnnOzgRi81k/s72-c/pic1.bmp" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2009/04/wwoof-experience.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUICSHc9eyp7ImA9WxVaEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-9143664349642580935</id><published>2009-04-09T17:48:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T17:52:49.963+10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-09T17:52:49.963+10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Comments" /><title>What Human Life worth</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;In a report - Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), presented at Framework Convention on Climate Change in Berlin (April 1995), intelligent and smart economists from renowned universities in UK and USA made this remarkable claim:&lt;br /&gt;Value of human lives in developed countries is 15 times higher than undeveloped or developing countries, in terms of US dollar value.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other words, 15 hardworking but (nevertheless) worthless poor farmers in Kenya are worth 1 good junkie drunk in London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This report was aimed to provide monetary values to every possible damage due to climate change, an effect of 2 fold Carbon Dioxide (CO2 and other green house gases) in the atmosphere would cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conclusion of this ground breaking, enlightening report was: the total cost of damages (include human lives) would be about 2% of the world GDP (again in USD) by then, which would almost equal to the loss in industrial production if all measures were made to avoid this increase on CO2 in the dang atmosphere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are forgiven if you feel lost at this. I don’t expect anyone to understand something as stunning produced by great minds to be understood in seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Anyway, in a nutshell, it means:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;· &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;If we don’t do anything to check the CO2 increase, we will lose human lives worth about 2% of world GDP; on the other hand, if we do our best to avoid this, we will lose real value worth about 2% of world GDP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;· &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;One life in civilised and developed countries is worth 15 salvages in uncultured poor countries, in monetary terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get it now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But think about this:&lt;br /&gt;- Who produces most CO2? Let me give you a hint, in terms of cars per 1000 person, Luxembourg top the list at 647, at 16th place, USA 460; China less than 100 cars per 1000 person. (shame on the chinese)&lt;br /&gt;On energy consumption, measured in kg-of-oil-equivalent (kgoe) per person, Iceland top the list at 12,000, USA at about 8,000 (not bad, Yanks), China at 1300 kgoe/person. India? 490 kgoe/person!! (&lt;strong&gt;Pathetic isn’t it?)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Reference: “earthtrends.wri.org”)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Where is most of the world population? Good, cosy rich countries or stinky, smelly, worthless poor countries? Need another hint?&lt;br /&gt;By 2050, there will be 50% &amp;amp; 20% population in Asia and Africa, respectively. On the other hand, 7% and 4% ARE IN Europe and North America. (reference: &lt;a href="http://www.wikipedia.org/"&gt;http://www.wikipedia.org/&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/Sd2o1SA0bhI/AAAAAAAAAPE/PdPGR9z4JPs/s1600-h/worl+population.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322595967943601682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 387px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 174px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/Sd2o1SA0bhI/AAAAAAAAAPE/PdPGR9z4JPs/s400/worl+population.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Who will suffer most in the event of climate change? Honourable intellectuals in rich temperate countries equipped with reversed cycle AC, or low peasants exposed to the elements in humid, hot poor countries?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The “carbon foot prints” of the highly regarded, civilised countries are much, more bigger than those low lives in 3rd world countries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/Sd2o1lQzt8I/AAAAAAAAAPM/Rk9_VtncNZw/s1600-h/CARBON+FOOTPRINT.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322595973110937538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 346px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/Sd2o1lQzt8I/AAAAAAAAAPM/Rk9_VtncNZw/s400/CARBON+FOOTPRINT.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, do you understand the good reason why the richest countries are dragging their feet to rectify some of the recommendations by real scientists?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They can afford do nothing and retain the 2% GDP while most of the damages will be in poorer countries. Who give a shit about poor harvest in Laos when they can still smoke cigars over brandy under the maple trees?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the low lives in poorer countries demand equal carbon right and pay per use sort of policies, guess who will have to pay more?&lt;br /&gt;I think this is utterly rubbish and ungrateful. The poor fella has been using all the goodies from developed nations, e.g. IMF supports, world bank, consultation etc. They even generously accept goods from these poor countries for offsetting their debts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But… but… who put them in debts in the first place? You may want to ask.&lt;br /&gt;That’s a very good question. Hahaha. OK, next question?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reference&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intergovernmental_Panel_on_Climate_Change"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intergovernmental_Panel_on_Climate_Change&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Defending the Value of Life from &lt;a href="http://www.gci.org.uk/vol/vol.html#intro"&gt;www.gci.org.uk/vol/vol.html#intro&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-9143664349642580935?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l8KhZVbT6b4DOh1lkAQktKKJD9U/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l8KhZVbT6b4DOh1lkAQktKKJD9U/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l8KhZVbT6b4DOh1lkAQktKKJD9U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l8KhZVbT6b4DOh1lkAQktKKJD9U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/ZlMAiS3Vzu4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/9143664349642580935/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=9143664349642580935" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/9143664349642580935?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/9143664349642580935?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/ZlMAiS3Vzu4/what-human-life-worth.html" title="What Human Life worth" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/Sd2o1SA0bhI/AAAAAAAAAPE/PdPGR9z4JPs/s72-c/worl+population.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-human-life-worth.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQARHw9fip7ImA9WxVUF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-4470646157243682541</id><published>2009-03-23T16:39:00.002+11:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T16:49:05.266+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-23T16:49:05.266+11:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Comments" /><title>Terminator Technology</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In the high tech industries, it is vey common to use the term “Proprietary rights”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It basically means the party who made the items (hardware or software) has the right on them and nobody can use, duplicate or distribute them, unless of course YOU PAY. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is also a clever innovation built into most of the industrial grade equipment. It is called – “software controlled feature”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take away all the big words and jargons, it simply means the manufacturer makes uniform lines of equipment and uses software to control the functions or capabilities available to the users.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, a power meter can be a basic power measurement device, or it can also be used to measure voltage, link up with computer, stores historical measurement data etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course every extra feature comes with a price tag, and usually in the form of “annual license fee”. All too familiar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Take a real life example.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A telecom service provider starts its business. Assuming there is no under table and back door activities, that is. After a lengthy tender and negotiation process, the multinational bidder with the best solution and price gets the supply contract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All is well. The management is happy for a while until they find out about the software cost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To have better voice quality on all your calls, pay annual license fee PER EQUIPMENT to switch on this “enhanced speech” feature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You need to expand the network capacity? Pay for annual license fees PER EVERY 1 THOUSAND new users on your network.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To include the latest standards? All you need is an annual license key PER EQUIPMENT that switches on the feature that is already built in the software.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now, the management will probably realize the supplier is in fact holding their balls. All equipment has been installed and it will cost more to change to another supplier, who may as well playing the same trick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we have already paid for the equipment! You may argue.&lt;br /&gt;You have paid for the equipment, not the right to use the FEATURES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We have spent millions of $ to research and develop these software features, so it is fair to charge for them” They would argue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about the annual fee? You may still want to ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! that one. We have to protect against unauthorized use of our equipment and software. Even they are stolen, the extra features will de-activate after the annual license period expires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, do you get the idea of how MNC can squeeze your balls and have entirely valid justifications for their actions?&lt;br /&gt;“Well, that doesn’t concern me at all. I don’t deal with them.” Did I hear you say that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the concept explained and understood, let switch the scene to something which do concern you and me and in fact the other 3 billion people in this world – FOOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say, you are a farmer and you bought this super high yield, disease resistant, fast mature rice seeds from a, again, multinational seed supplier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After delivery, they gave a courtesy call to check on you and your crop.&lt;br /&gt;In the conversation, the nice gentleman politely informed you that you had to use their proprietary chemical to switch on the advertised super duper characteristics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A different chemical for each feature, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to get high yield, you need to purchase and spray product SuperyieldXÔ 3 times a year.&lt;br /&gt;To get disease resistance, use ShieldITÔ, and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now, you would already be steaming with anger and would like to grab that bustard and shaft the shovel up his ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, there is more. Even you use all those chemical and get good results, you can’t save the seeds for next year sowing. They are &lt;strong&gt;genetically engineered&lt;/strong&gt; to be &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;STERILE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;won’t germinate&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, that’s what I call – being squeezed by the balls and still going back for more banging in the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to a new technological breakthrough in genetic engineering – Genetic Use Restriction Technology (GURT). Or affectionately nicknamed - &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;TERMINATOR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; technology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprising (or rather not surprisingly), this technology was jointly developed and patented by U.S. Department of Agriculture and Delta and Pine Land Company in the 1990s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Terminator technology (GURT) changes the genetics of the seeds so that some desirable features are controlled (to switch on or off) by their proprietary chemicals. Such desirable features are: germination, disease resistance, frost tolerance etc.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;In a nutshell, the farmers are screwed and have to buy seeds and chemical from the same Multinational Supplier every year.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Delta and Pine Land has since been acquired by Monsanto, the biggest feed supplier in the 21st century. Yes, Monsanto, the company who supplied Roundup and made billions off that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The supporters of this great Terminator Technology (no prize for guessing who they are) claimed that:&lt;br /&gt;-         &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Protect&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; intellectual property in countries (i.e. good for nothing 3rd world poor countries) where it is not enforced.&lt;br /&gt;-         &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Protect&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; corporations from unscrupulous farmers. Control of seed germination helps prevent farmers from pirating their technology. (Pay per use, mate)&lt;br /&gt;-         &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Profitable&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; returns to stimulate plant developing activities by biotech firms. (so we can have more $ to make more of these genetic wonders and sell them to you, all for you)&lt;br /&gt;-         &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Prevent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; escape of transgenes (genetically modified) into wild relatives and prevent any impact on biodiversity. (we care for the environment)&lt;br /&gt;-         &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Prevent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; volunteer sprouting (natural sprouting) in broad acre agriculture field that will reduce grain quality. (we care for you and the quality of your crop)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Notice all starts with big &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, Protect, Profit, Prevent?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, do you still think they are &lt;em&gt;evil, ball-less, lower-than-scum and money minded bustards&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; I would never equal them with &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;bottom dwelling&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;,&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; shit eating parasites&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No sir. They actually care for the environment and our well being. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, profit is a prominant. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, that’s the man’s job and he has a contractual performance that will dictate his year end bonus. These hard working poor executives have to support their family life styles, pay mortgage of their mansions, gold club memberships. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Some of them may even go to church every Sunday and give donation to help the poor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cynical jokes asides. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Terminator technology is an evil in real manifestation.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Firstly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, it will create famines in many less rich countries as small farmers don’t have money to purchase seeds every year. No money for seeds, no harvest, no food for people, need import food, increases country’s debts, decreases purchase power, people poorer, more farmer can’t afford seeds and the negative feedback cycle goes on until large scale or nation wide famine breaks out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Secondly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, cross pollination of Terminator crops with their natural (non GM) cousins. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Who knows what disaster that can lead to? Sterile seeds in natural plants are likely results. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The worse if the terminator gene is recessive and only shows up after several generations. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;By the time it is discovered in non GM crops, it might be too late for action. We effectively terminate our own food supplies. Human is indeed a funny species.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Thirdly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, do you really trust these wonderful MNC that “vigorous tests” had been conducted for safe consumptions by human? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One variant of Terminator tech is called “Verminator” (by Astra Zeneca) because it takes genes from brown rats and uses them in plants. !!??&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do you really believe that the genes can be just switched on or off without complex interactions with other genes? Do we really want more pollutant into our already highly contaminated food chain?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Fourthly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, why let them rip us off and we don’t benefit a single bit from it; while children in poor countries are suffering from hunger and serious malnutrition?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are still not convinced, let look at another &lt;strong&gt;example&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you do if you bought a mobile phone with a battery that can’t be re-charged? You have to order new &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;proprietary&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; battery every time the battery is flat. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Further more, you have to download and pay for special software to use SMS, Caller ID, camera, blue tooth etc every time you have new batteries.&lt;br /&gt;I bet you would show them the middle finger and say FUCK OFF.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In summary, the world is really converging. Business concepts used in technology industries are also being applied in food supplies. Or is it just the &lt;strong&gt;inter-industrial recycling&lt;/strong&gt; of scum-bag executives?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-4470646157243682541?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q_40-3dooroi69GMx6SbZHq3GSw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q_40-3dooroi69GMx6SbZHq3GSw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/2q96iDACvmI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/4470646157243682541/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=4470646157243682541" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/4470646157243682541?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/4470646157243682541?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/2q96iDACvmI/terminator-technology.html" title="Terminator Technology" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2009/03/terminator-technology.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAHSXY4eyp7ImA9WxVUF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-2882461183911823483</id><published>2009-03-23T16:33:00.002+11:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T16:38:58.833+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-23T16:38:58.833+11:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>Ancient Ritual</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;This short story is inspired by the religious practice of Ainu tribes living in Hokaido, Japan. Though controversial, it is nevertheless still being practiced today, maybe in more secretive manner.&lt;br /&gt;More information can be found, well, by searching &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;“Ainu tribes&lt;/span&gt;” on&lt;br /&gt;Google.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;*************************************************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kitaro San pulled over his car on the side of the remote road, few meters away from the over-turned car. He ran over to the car and found a man trapped in the driver seat. To his surprise, the man was Fujita san, his new found friend. They met and drank sake together in the small pub in the hotel they stayed in down the hill. Fujita was badly injured but was still conscious. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Kitaro quickly dialed emergency service on his mobile phone and was glad that mobile coverage was good even in this very remote area of Hokaido.&lt;br /&gt;While waiting for the ambulance, he stayed with Fujita and talked to him to keep him conscious. Fujita was drifting in and out and his speech was incoherent. Kitaro sensed that Fujita might not be able to make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;He gave a relief sigh when he heard the approaching siren of the ambulance. Fujita held his hand and passed him a gold chain with a bear shape pendant.&lt;br /&gt;“Please give this to the head of village Hoki. It is about 50 km from here. Follow the sign board to Shimodo town and turn left after the Yumen temple. The village is 20 km from the junction.”&lt;br /&gt;“Hai. I shall do this for you, Fujita san”&lt;br /&gt;“Give to the head of village. Don’t let anyone else know ….” Fujita voice was too weak to be heard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kitaro wore the chain over his neck and help the paramedics to get Fujita out from the car. The paramedics were vey efficient and the ambulance carrying Fujita was racing back down hill in less than 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Kitaro got back to his car and started toward the Hoki village following the instructions given by Fujita. He reached the village after dark after a few wrong turns and misses. The place was obviously not as easy to find as described by Fujita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;“Can’t blame him. The poor man was too weak.”&lt;br /&gt;It was a peaceful and quiet farming village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;He went into a small bistro and had a good dinner. The food was exceptionally good and the service was excellent. He didn’t expect such quality at a remote village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;He was even more surprised when he asked for the bill.&lt;br /&gt;“It’s on the house. Hope you have enjoyed it.” Said the owner.&lt;br /&gt;“No. No. I can’t. Please I have to pay.” Kitaro replied and offered his money.&lt;br /&gt;The owner took a step back, bowed and said, “No. No. Please. It’s our honour to serve you, Gami San.”&lt;br /&gt;“You have made a mistake, I m not Gami San.”&lt;br /&gt;“You are Gami San, the most honoured guest in our village” Said the owner while pointing to the bear shape pendant hanging from Kitaro’s neck.&lt;br /&gt;Feeling tired from the long drive, Kitaro didn’t want to argue.&lt;br /&gt;He asked the owner where he could find the village head, thanked him and walked out from the bistro. The owner and his wife saw him out and bowed again. “Domo Arigato Gozaimasu”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;He stopped to ask for direction from a young lady and to his surprise, she bowed with respect and invited him to have tea inside her house. Tea and best sake were offered. Kitaro decided to just accept without any questions this time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;His pretty hostess, Yuko was friendly and accommodating. After a few rounds of sake, all Kitaro wished for was get comfortable and lie down. Yuko prepared hot water for him and even scrubbed his back for him. They went to bed together and Kitaro had some best time in his life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, after the effect of sake had worn off; he had worked it all out. The villagers must have mistaken him for someone else, who they respected vey much, and the pendant was the identity.&lt;br /&gt;He decided to give it a test. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;He hanged the pendant on his neck and made sure it was visible, then he walked to man and said rudely, “Give me your car, I want to use it.”&lt;br /&gt;The big guy turned around and had an angry look on his face. Being rude in this part of the country was almost like calling someone’s mother a prostitute in a Tokyo pub. Expecting a punch from the big guy, he was surprised again. The man looked at him and quickly made a bow and offered his car key.&lt;br /&gt;“At your service, Gami San.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Kitaro was delighted. He had landed a jackpot and decided he would keep the pendant for a bit longer to enjoy the benefits.&lt;br /&gt;He drove back to Yuko’s place and asked for a hot bath. Lunch was served after his bath with the finest food and served by Yuko and another young girl. Kitaro was in nine clouds and felt like he came to paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;For the next week or so, whenever he went, he was greeted with respect and offered the finest food and service. Sometimes, parents would offer their young daughters to him as if he was the walking god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;“Time passes fast too fast when you are enjoying it” He thought to himself. In fact, it was too good to be truth and he felt that he was in a sweet dream that he would not want to wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;“Gami San, tomorrow is full moon night” Yuko said to him in a very polite way. She was still his favorite although he had many other young girls in the village.&lt;br /&gt;He didn’t know what about full moon night but didn’t want to show his ignorance on this matter.&lt;br /&gt;“Hai. I know. Serve me more sake please.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Everyone in the village said the same thing to him.&lt;br /&gt;“Tomorrow is full moon night. It has been our honour to serve you, Gami San.”&lt;br /&gt;He sensed that there would be something going on tomorrow night.&lt;br /&gt;“I will probably be better off split before tomorrow night. Before they find out I am a fake.” He decided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*******************************************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down hill in a small museum, a teacher was explaining to her group of student about the ancient bear tribe rituals.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This tribe called themselves the Bear People who used to live up in the mountain region. They believed in a Bear God that protected and blessed them in their hunts. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Every year, they would capture a male bear cub and raised it in the village. Everyone would contribute and they would treat the bear cub with highest respect and provide to it the best food, as if it was the Bear God himself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After one year, on a full moon night in Nigatsu month of Lunar calendar, they would tie the bear cub on a pole and perform the traditional ceremony of sending it back to heaven. After the ritual, they would slash its throat and collect the blood in a silver bowl, which they would mix it with sake and share among all the villagers. They believed the Bear God would bless them through its sacred blood.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young boy raised his hand and asked “That’s very cruel. Do they still practice it now?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I m sure nobody does this cruel act anymore. The government has put a ban on this as it’s against our country’s laws to torture and kill animals cruelly. It’s called &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;animals right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;” The young teacher answered.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*****************************************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the village, Kitaro opened his eyes slowly and his head was still spinning.&lt;br /&gt;“It must have been the sake. I had one too many”&lt;br /&gt;To his horror, he found himself tied up naked on a pole and surrounded by all the villagers. They were all dressed up in colorful costumes, chanting and bowing to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;He wanted to yell but found his lips were glued together and he couldn’t make any sound. He looked up and saw the full moon in the clear night sky.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The village head came forward with a short samurai sword. Yuko was behind him, holding a silver bowl in her hands. The villagers stopped their chanting and gave a final bow to Kitaro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This had always been a peaceful and quiet farming village. Everybody lived happily under the blessing of the Bear God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-2882461183911823483?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MGIthOveOMCQPlkJXc5cAi0Et08/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MGIthOveOMCQPlkJXc5cAi0Et08/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/Y7XtJh-qtJ0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/2882461183911823483/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=2882461183911823483" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/2882461183911823483?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/2882461183911823483?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/Y7XtJh-qtJ0/ancient-ritual.html" title="Ancient Ritual" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2009/03/ancient-ritual.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QHQHg_eip7ImA9WxVWE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-1842097330821723898</id><published>2009-02-13T11:57:00.007+11:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T17:08:51.642+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-23T17:08:51.642+11:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>legend of the Sundarban (2)</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Continued from part (1)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Read part (1) before you read this&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;The Guardians&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI4ZSIFA0I/AAAAAAAAANk/Lhf0zAuCj4o/s1600-h/yogi"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305865318009471810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI4ZSIFA0I/AAAAAAAAANk/Lhf0zAuCj4o/s400/yogi" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Two hours later, they came back with an old yogi who dressed in yellow robe. Adam knew that yogis were not respected like they used to in the predominantly Muslims Bangladesh. Nevertheless, they were not unusual in this part of the country where animism and traditional beliefs had their deep roots in the rural communities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mahmood whispered softly in the old man’s ear and pointed to the victims, who were already cleaned and wrapped in white cloth by their family members. Abdullah’s mother came to the yogi, closed her palm to show respect. She kneeled and touched the yogi’s feet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;“Please Gurujhi. You have to help us to destroy the devil.”&lt;br /&gt;Muni’s widowed mother joined her and kneeled before the yogi.&lt;br /&gt;Many other villagers turned towards the yogi and closed their palms too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old yogi touched the heads of the women kneeling before him, spoke softly to them and went to sit down under the shed of a big tree.&lt;br /&gt;He closed his eyes and started to chant softly. After a while, the faint scent of sandal wood filled the village. There were movements in the bushes behind him. Anil and Adam instinctively raised their gun but was stopped by Mahmood who signaled them not to move.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI2yHf0YfI/AAAAAAAAANU/49yCD2Z2tkA/s1600-h/king_cobra_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305863545629729266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 111px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI2yHf0YfI/AAAAAAAAANU/49yCD2Z2tkA/s400/king_cobra_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A huge king cobra emerged from the bush. It was completely white and looked almost shinny in the morning sun. It raised its head tall and faced the yogi. Adam estimated it was at least 20 feet long and had enough venom to kill 10 adults. A second king cobra emerged from the bushes; it was a black one and smaller. It stopped next to the white cobra and it too raised its head.&lt;br /&gt;The old yogi kept chanting softly as if he was communicating with the cobras that were swaying in front of him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Very slowly, the two women approached them with a tray in their hands. On the tray, there were a bowl of buffalo milk and 2 eggs.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI27AD0wNI/AAAAAAAAANc/2RF-8VXTFyI/s1600-h/king_cobra2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305863698252087506" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 119px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI27AD0wNI/AAAAAAAAANc/2RF-8VXTFyI/s400/king_cobra2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; They put the trays in front of the yogi and the cobras, kneeled and touched their heads on the ground. The cobras turned and approached the trays, heads raised all the time.&lt;br /&gt;They drank the milk and gracefully went over to the victims’ body, which they circled them a few times. After that, they went back to the trays, swallowed the eggs and disappeared in the bushes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The old yogi stood up and walked over to the women. He placed his hands on their shoulders, chanted some short mantras and left with Mahmood.&lt;br /&gt;“He said the demon will be taken care of” Amesh told Adam and Anil later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Anil stayed for 3 more days in the village but there weren’t any more incidents. Life was almost back to normal in the village.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;The final battle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Two weeks later, a villager found a sensor camera on a river bank and handed it back to Adam.&lt;br /&gt;“Thanks. I believe this is one of the cameras that I lost the other day”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The videos were all 2-minute footages recorded after the motion sensor was triggered by movements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was speechless when he checked through the video footages on his laptop computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI41XAD_aI/AAAAAAAAANs/zKhsnz3U_EE/s1600-h/tiger+in+water.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI8vSY_55I/AAAAAAAAAOc/YVXjUY9Atic/s1600-h/bengal_tigers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305870094084073362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 93px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI8vSY_55I/AAAAAAAAAOc/YVXjUY9Atic/s400/bengal_tigers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In one of the footages, a huge tiger was drinking by the river. Adam saw the broken tail and knew it must be the demon Asyoitan.&lt;br /&gt;It suddenly paused and stepped away quickly from the river, as if it was stung by a wasp. Step by step, it retreated but never took its eyes away from the water. A few second later, the white king cobra emerged from the river. As the white cobra advanced aggressively, Asyoitan retreated to keep a safe distance from it. It lowered its body and snarled angrily at the advancing king cobra while moving in a circle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;“The cobra was trying to push it back into the jungle where it would disadvantage Asyoitan. Asyoitan knew it and wanted to remain in the clear so its movements were not hindered by trees and undergrowth.” Adam thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI9KXpBhFI/AAAAAAAAAOk/LTxw1e-jW8E/s1600-h/bangal_tigers2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305870559349933138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 131px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 75px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI9KXpBhFI/AAAAAAAAAOk/LTxw1e-jW8E/s400/bangal_tigers2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The next 2-minute footage showed Asyoitan was circling around the defensive white king cobra. It moved in swiftly and took a swipe at the cobra. The king cobra stroke immediately but Asyoitan leaped to the side and avoided the deadly fangs. With another swipe, it hit the white king cobra on the neck and sent it rolling on the ground. Defeated, the king cobra tried to escape into the bushes with Asyoitan pursuing cautiously from behind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Suddenly, the black king cobra appeared from behind the root of a tree and stroke at Asyoitan’s hind leg with its large venomous fangs.&lt;br /&gt;It was there all the time, waiting for the chance to strike.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Asyoitan roared angrily and turned to face the black cobra. Bite marks were clearly seen on its hind leg.&lt;br /&gt;It lunged forward and was bitten again but his big paw held the black cobra down by its neck. It seemed all over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Before it could sink its deadly fangs on the black cobra, the white cobra came from behind and bit it twice.&lt;br /&gt;Asyoitan leaped away to avoid further assults. It turned to face the cobra and roared angrily, baring its white fangs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The white king cobra was not backing down and raised its head high, ready to attack again. The black cobra was lying still on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;Asyoitan learnt its lesson and kept a safe distance between itself and the white cobra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI8KsOMLrI/AAAAAAAAAOU/gAU5XLfxBN0/s1600-h/spitting+cobra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305869465362902706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 90px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI8KsOMLrI/AAAAAAAAAOU/gAU5XLfxBN0/s400/spitting+cobra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The venom that could have killed an elephant seemed not affecting Asyoitan too much, although it was clearly limping and was moving slower.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the white cobra opened its mouth and spat venom at Asyoitan. It hit it in the forehead and splashed over its eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Asyoitan gave out a roar in pain, turned and vanished in the thick bushes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next footage was recorded 2 hours later triggered by a wild boar coming to the river bank. Neither the tiger nor the king cobras were seen in the video. Adam checked through all the remaining footages but didn’t find them again.&lt;br /&gt;The battle between the demon tiger and two guardian king cobras lasted for less than 5 or 6 minutes. Nobody knew what the final ending was.&lt;br /&gt;Did Asyoitan die from the venom?&lt;br /&gt;Did the black cobra survive?&lt;br /&gt;Adam didn’t know. All he knew was he had witnessed something that nobody had ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;He left the swamp and joined Anil to become an English teacher in Chittagong and never went back again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No more tiger attacks in that part of the sundarban were reported for many years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-1842097330821723898?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dOsTkHO1POUcx3pS7O0qJ0mhv7I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dOsTkHO1POUcx3pS7O0qJ0mhv7I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~4/OyHuroOgDfk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/feeds/1842097330821723898/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2907364705645125359&amp;postID=1842097330821723898" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/1842097330821723898?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2907364705645125359/posts/default/1842097330821723898?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HumanIsJustAnEvolvedSpecies/~3/OyHuroOgDfk/legend-of-sundarban-2.html" title="legend of the Sundarban (2)" /><author><name>non-conformis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09025590133105178350</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/R9M2wEILQwI/AAAAAAAAACw/3x9AnWIe_sk/S220/GPS_040.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI4ZSIFA0I/AAAAAAAAANk/Lhf0zAuCj4o/s72-c/yogi" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://non-conformis.blogspot.com/2009/02/legend-of-sundarban-2.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04NRnozeyp7ImA9WxVWE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907364705645125359.post-6091557849436960077</id><published>2009-02-13T11:35:00.006+11:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T17:19:57.483+11:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-23T17:19:57.483+11:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>Legend of the Sundarban (1)</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes. Another short story about tiger of chinese myth but brought to live in sundarban region, Bangladesh. Also to highlight the harsh lives of the honey gatherers and fishermen living in that part of the country. completed on 12 Feb 2009 (Goulburn NSW). Took me more than 3 months to finally typed it out on a computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305867943377328114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 244px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 224px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI6yGYjV_I/AAAAAAAAAOE/GH4L8GskfJ4/s400/tiger_demon2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; _____________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The Village&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI53l3AG4I/AAAAAAAAAN0/W9Vz6WzShX0/s1600-h/sunset_sundarban.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305866938214259586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI53l3AG4I/AAAAAAAAAN0/W9Vz6WzShX0/s400/sunset_sundarban.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's evening after sunset. The sky around the set sun turned to a splendid reddish orange above the distant mountainous terrain. Adam was sitting on the river bank watching the sunset and the equally splendid reflection on the flowing water. This was a rare occasion in the raining season. Twilight was approaching and soon darkness would cover the swamp. He had to go back to the village before it was completely dark; especially the warning had been given.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;"Mr. Adam. Thank god you are back. We were starting to worry about you." Adam was greeted by Arshad when he was back at wooden hut he was boarding.&lt;br /&gt;"Mahmood, our elder, has already warned us against going out of the village alone at night. Asyoitan is back. We should all stick close together at night."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I m OK, Arshad. I know my way and it's not dark yet." said Adam. He was a bit annoyed being told off like a young boy. He had experience in living in the rain forest. He had lived in the deepest jungle of Sabah for 2 months while shooting the documentary on the elusive and rare Javan Rhinoceros for BBC. Not to mention the 3 months with the National Geographic team in Royal Chitwan National Park in Nepal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. No. Asyoitan has lived too long and is too cunning to predict. If you had seen what I saw, you would understand why I m scare." Arshad's voice was a bit loud but the fear in it was obvious. The bad memory was still haunting him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks. I will be careful next time." Adam wanted to end this conversation. He has a lot to do and needed to rest early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very well. Mr Adam, good night. Please let me know if you need anything"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, the villagers had lighted a dozen or more fire surrounding the huts they lived in. The shadows cast by the flickering flames looked as if they were some black creatures moving silently in the dimly lighted village.&lt;br /&gt;Children were all back in the huts while their parents were making dinner outside. Fear was obvious on everyone's face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How easy it is to control a group of uneducated people with fear and myths. All you need to do is to scare them and you'd have them like a flock of sheep." Adam thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came to this remote village in the swampy country of Bangladesh to do a documentary of the honey gatherers, as well as to install sensor-triggered cameras to capture the wildlife in this part of sundarban. He had a working partner but he had gone back to Dhaka for malaria treatment. To make things worse, the delivery of sensor cameras didn't arrive as scheduled. He had to wait for 2 long weeks before they finally arrived 2 days ago. His frustration was compounded by the rain that came almost everyday. And now, he was confronted by the mythical Asyoitan.&lt;br /&gt;"The sunset here is just beautiful. Can one asks for more?" he sighed. Being cynical helped to reduce the frustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From his hut, Adam saw Muni sitting by the fire and drawing picture on a paper pad quietly. Muni was a young boy of about 9 years old and was almost completely deaf and mute. He had bright eyes and Adam knew he was very smart too. The villagers nick-named him “buffalo boy” because he seemed to be able to communicate with the buffalos in the village. They simply came to him whenever he approached them and he seemed to know what they want or need, as if he could understand them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam went over and sat next to Muni who gave him a warm smile. His bright eyes glittered as he showed Adam his work. Adam looked at the pictures of buffalos drawn on the paper pad he had given to Muni and put his thumb up. He said “very good”. He liked the boy very much since the first time they met two weeks ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam had made a plan to start installing the sensor-cameras the next day. The cameras had a motion sensor that if triggered by movement, would record a 2 minutes video and had enough storage for 10 hours of recording. He had to find some strategic locations where the wildlife would pass through, such as river bank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was thinking about the warning from Arshad about Asyoitan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“When a tiger has killed and eaten human flesh, it acquires special power and becomes a demon. The victims are under its spell and become its slaves forever. They become the ‘hinapa’ – ghost slaves who can’t escape and have no chance of reborn. They will lure other human to the demon tiger as a service to their master, thus making the demon stronger. Asyoitan is the worst of all. According to the legend, it has lived more than 100 years and had claimed hundreds of human lives. There was a tiger attack in the neighbor village. They saw the tiger and an old man recognized the bullet wound marks on it. The rangers have been trying to kill it for many years but it escaped every time.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Do you think it will come here?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Nobody knows for sure. It is cunning and unpredictable. I hope it has gone back to the deep forest and leave us alone. But we have to be very careful, especially at night”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The honey gatherers are now going out in big groups and come back to the village before sunset. Everyone will go inside and lock their door after dinner. You too have to take extra care, Mr. Adam.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s just a tiger. Human just needs myths to spice up their lives” Adam thought. He gave Muni a pat on the shoulder and went in to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ASYOITAN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI53y_zxvI/AAAAAAAAAN8/zpF2WQIiHmE/s1600-h/mangrove+swamp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305866941740861170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 135px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 101px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI53y_zxvI/AAAAAAAAAN8/zpF2WQIiHmE/s400/mangrove+swamp.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The next day, Adam and his guide Amesh went into the swamp to install the sensor-cameras. Before they took off, Amesh handed Adam a mask with human face on it.&lt;br /&gt;“Mr. Adam, wear this behind your head. Tiger usually likes to ambush from behind. If it sees the mask, hopefully, it will think you are facing it and won’t attack.” Explained Amesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a hot and humid day in the swamp. To locate, install, test and record was actually real hard work and they were soaked in their own sweat by late aftenoon. They stopped by a small river to rest and to have a cigarette break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, Adam stood up and dropped his cigarette.&lt;br /&gt;“Did you hear it? There is a girl calling for help.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amesh face turned pale. He had heard it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s from across the river. We have to go help her.” Adam said.&lt;br /&gt;“No. No. Mr. Adam. This is the work of hinapa. Asyoitan must be not far from here. Let’s get back to the village now.”&lt;br /&gt;“IT’S A GIRL. She is probably hurt and needs help. We can’t walk away.”&lt;br /&gt;“Why is a girl doing alone in the forest? No girls will enter the forest. It’s the hinapa. Please leave now.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I will go and help her.” Adam said with a firm voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Please don’t go. Mr. Adam. It’s a trap”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam was angry with what he saw as cowardice of Amesh. He put down his backpack containing the sensor camera and started to cross the river.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Please don’t go. Please come back” Amesh pleaded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he saw that Adam had already crossed the river, he turned and ran back towards the village.&lt;br /&gt;“I have to get help” he said to himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam was trying to go faster but the terrain and the thick bushes were slowing him down. As he went deeper into the forest, the girl’s voice seemed nearer. With his mind pre-occupied, he failed to notice that the forest was completely silent except for the voice of the girl’s calling for help.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, something hard hit his head. He looked up and saw to his surprise, Muni was up in a tall tree. He smiled at Adam and gestured him to climb the tree.&lt;br /&gt;The tree had no low branches but with the help of the hanging vines, Adam managed to reach where Muni was. He looked down and found himself at least 15m above ground and could see the forest below clearly.&lt;br /&gt;“what are you doing here, boy?”&lt;br /&gt;Muni signed to him to be quiet and pointed forward.&lt;br /&gt;Adam saw a big wild boar searching for food in the bushes about 100m from where he was just now.&lt;br /&gt;From his rough estimate, the boar weighted more than 100kg. With formidable curved tusks, it was certainly a dangerous wild thing.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, the boar paused and lifted its head. It was alerted by something in the air. Seconds later, Adam smelt it too.&lt;br /&gt;It was like a mixture of urine and rotting meat.&lt;br /&gt;Adam knew at once what it was. The smell that you would get when you were near the big cats enclosure in a zoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Tiger!” He said to himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boar was moving in circle as it didn’t know which direction was safe. The odor was getting stronger and it filled the air in the forest.&lt;br /&gt;Adam realized that the forest was completely silent. Even the birds and insects were not making any sound; except for the soft grunts of the boar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI_U2sriWI/AAAAAAAAAO0/iqVk49flyg0/s1600-h/tiger+kill+wild+boar.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305872938508716386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 273px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI_U2sriWI/AAAAAAAAAO0/iqVk49flyg0/s400/tiger+kill+wild+boar.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Finally overcome by panic, it dashed into the thick bushes and disappeared. The bush was covered densely with tall undergrowth and the shadows casted by the setting sun had made it very difficult to see what was inside it.&lt;br /&gt;Adam heard a sharp cry from an animal in pain and saw movements in the bush. The head of the boar emerged; covered in blood. One of its eyes had been ripped out and part of the face was gone. Before it was fully out of the bush, something caught it from behind and dragged it back into the bush.&lt;br /&gt;Adam could only see movements in the bush and heard the last few helpless cries of the boar, which sent shivers down his spine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Everything went back to silent again but the distinct odor was growing stronger and stronger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;To his horror, Adam started to feel weak as if the odor had become a thick fluid that filled up his lungs and he could barely breathe.&lt;br /&gt;He knew what or who was waiting for him down in the bush.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There were soft voices all around him, male and female.&lt;br /&gt;“Come down here, my friend.”&lt;br /&gt;“Let go and come with us.”&lt;br /&gt;“Jump now and you will be free forever.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam was shaking in cold sweat and had to hold on tightly on the branch with all his strength in order not to fall.&lt;br /&gt;“Hold on. Hold on. Don’t fall.” He said to himself. His legs felt weak and he would have fallen had he not put his arms around a big branch.&lt;br /&gt;He saw lights spinning around him and felt so weak that he wanted to close his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;His last bit of consciousness knew that he would lose his balance and fall if he closed his eyes. With all his mental strength, he forced himself to focus on the branch right in front of him. It was like someone fighting to wake up from a bad dream.&lt;br /&gt;He had heard tales of monkeys falling from the tree when a tiger roared below it. Now he understood why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be a few minutes or maybe one hour. Adam had lost the sense of time. He couldn’t feel his legs. All he could do was to hold on to the branch as hard as he could.&lt;br /&gt;Gradually, sounds of birds and insects were again heard.&lt;br /&gt;Adam gave a sigh of relieve. The voices were not heard anymore.&lt;br /&gt;He turned around. Muni was also gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Mr. Adam. Mr. Adam. Where are you?”&lt;br /&gt;He heard Amesh’s voice. He had come back with another 5 villagers. They had spears and axes with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Thanks for coming back for me. It was Asyoitan”&lt;br /&gt;“You were smart to safe yourself up in the tree.”&lt;br /&gt;“It was Muni who helped me …”&lt;br /&gt;“Stop joking. Mr. Adam. It’s not nice to joke about the deceased.” One of the villagers said sadly.&lt;br /&gt;“What do you mean?”&lt;br /&gt;“Muni was found seriously injured this morning. Mauled by a tiger. He would had been dragged away and eaten had it not for the buffalos. We think they drove the tiger away. We heard their bellows and found Muni lying on the ground surrounded by buffalos. Tiger prints were all over the ground. Muni died one hour later. His widow mother was devastated.”&lt;br /&gt;“I swear to God. He was up in the tree with me just now”&lt;br /&gt;“You were under the spell of the hinapa. Muni came to help you my friend. “ Amesh said slowly.&lt;br /&gt;Back in the village, while the women were comforting Muni’s widow mother, the men gathered to discuss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Hunter and the hunted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;“Why didn’t Muni become a hinapa?” Adam asked Amesh.&lt;br /&gt;“I think it was because he died in his mother’s arm. A mother’s love is much powerful than any spell of a demon. His soul is safe”&lt;br /&gt;Adam nodded and walked away quietly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Thank you for saving me. I shall revenge your death, Muni. I shall end it. Asyoitan will be hunted down and killed. I promise you.” Adam made a vow after he laid down Muni’s drawing pad next to the boy motionless body. He made his proposal to the villagers and they agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three days later, Adam was in Chittagong, the biggest port city in Bangladesh. He came to see his friend Anil. Anil worked as a school teacher but he used to be a hunter.&lt;br /&gt;He had shot a monkey and found a baby clinging on the dead mother. It was wailing and holding on so tightly that they couldn’t separate them with the strength of two grown men. Anil dropped his gun on the spot and made a vow never to shoot any innocent creature again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam told Anil about Asyoitan and the villagers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I had heard similar stories. These creatures are vey elusive and cunning. It’s almost impossible and dangerous to track them down and have a clear shot. They may hunt us down instead. Furthermore, one or two bullets won’t finish them off.”&lt;br /&gt;“What do you suggest? Hold it down and point the gun at its head?”&lt;br /&gt;“Exactly. That’s what we need to do. We shall use traps to clam it.”&lt;br /&gt;“You mean using baits?”&lt;br /&gt;“No. It’s too smart to be tricked by food. We shall use something even demon can’t resist.”&lt;br /&gt;“What?”&lt;br /&gt;“Sex”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI7Z3okDrI/AAAAAAAAAOM/5Dsi0qg-IkQ/s1600-h/bear+Trap.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305868626612719282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 114px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 107px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI7Z3okDrI/AAAAAAAAAOM/5Dsi0qg-IkQ/s400/bear+Trap.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Back in the village, Anil asked help from the villagers to set up the traps. He had brought with him a few big iron clawed clams used by bear hunters.&lt;br /&gt;“We have the ultimate lure for Asyoitan. These bottles contain fresh urine of a big male tiger and a tigress in heat. I got them from a friend who works in a tiger sanctuary park. No male tiger can resist the scent of a female in heat. A challenge from another male in his territory will anger him and distort his awareness.”&lt;br /&gt;“Very smart, Anil” said Adam.&lt;br /&gt;“Now all we need to do is to setup a few traps and wait. It’s insane to go into the jungle at night with a man eater lurking in the dark. He can definitely smell the scent. We will only go to check the traps in day time.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yea. Once it’s held by the clams. You can get close and BANG BANG BANG on its head.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI9mhXC6DI/AAAAAAAAAOs/VrS8C5jp0H4/s1600-h/tiger+under+tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305871042995218482" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 205px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xKqQ-uOv4t8/SaI9mhXC6DI/AAAAAAAAAOs/VrS8C5jp0H4/s400/tiger+under+tree.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Two days later, they went back to check the traps. Anil handed Adam one of his guns and showed him how to use it.&lt;br /&gt;“I hope you don’t have to use it. Having a face-to-face encounter with a tiger is NOT what you saw in movies. Tigers are NOT game.” He said seriously&lt;br /&gt;Adam nodded. He knew after the narrow escape from Asyoitan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One by one they checked the traps that they had set up but none was touched. With the scent of tigers around the traps, no other wild animals would even get close to them.&lt;br /&gt;Just as they were approaching the last one, Anil paused and whispered softly to Adam “Stop. Something’s here. Wait here while I check it out”. He pointed to a big tree.&lt;br /&gt;Adam tensed up and gripped the gun firmly. A faint odor was in the air. A smell that Adam would never, ever forget.&lt;br /&gt;Anil walked cautiously towards the traps, gun raised and finger on the trigger.&lt;br /&gt;After a while which seemed like a long time to Adam, Anil motioned him to come forward and pointed to ground.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh My God. He broke the chain!”&lt;br /&gt;There were blood stains on the forest floor and the iron chain was still fastened on a big tree trunk, only the end that was attached to the clawed clam was broken and the clam was missing.&lt;br /&gt;“The clam got it but the chain could hold it. A demon, indeed. The claws must be tearing through its flesh. Imagine the pain.”&lt;br /&gt;Anil signaled him to be quiet and checked the prints on the ground. He motioned Adam to come along as he followed the foot print.&lt;br /&gt;Adam’s heart was pounding hard.&lt;br /&gt;“Is he insane? Following an injured beast?”&lt;br /&gt;They walked for about twenty minutes and Anil spotted something shinny between the roots of a huge strangler fig tree.&lt;br /&gt;It was the missing clawed clam with a large piece of flesh still firmly gripped between the iron claws. Flies were swamping over it.&lt;br /&gt;“The trap got its tail and severed it so much that when it was again caught between the roots, Asyoitan pulled so hard that it just torn off its body. Dang. We almost got it and it got away.”&lt;br /&gt;“Let’s get back to the village. It’s getting dark soon” Adam was not comfortable facing an injured tiger in the dark, even with Anil and his gun around him. He knew the speed and power of Asyoitan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the villagers saw the severed tiger tail, they were worried.&lt;br /&gt;“We have angered the demon. He will come back for revenge.” Mahmood the elder shook his head and said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We shall build fire around the village and put a few on guard tonight. The rest of us should stay inside and lock our doors and windows”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I shall do it.” Anil raised his hand and said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam couldn’t sleep. He imagined Asyoitan would bust through the flimsy wooden door and pound on him. The distinct odor, the powerful paws, the huge jaws, the deadly fangs and the broken tail of Asyoitan filled his head. But the night past without any incident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At dawn, he opened the door and found Anil sitting on a log, gun in his hand, cat napping.&lt;br /&gt;Anil opened his eye and said tiredly, “It didn’t come last night.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then, they heard a scream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man was lying inside his hut. Neck broken and dis-bowelled. His belly was ripped open exposing the internal organs. The things in his hut were almost undisturbed.&lt;br /&gt;“It’s Abdullah. The demon came through the back window. Swift and silent like a ghost” said Mahmood.&lt;br /&gt;There was another scream. Arshad’s wife was the second victim. Her body was found outside their hut with her neck snapped and throat slashed. Arshad was crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why did she get out in the dark?”&lt;br /&gt;“It’s the hinapa. They lured her out.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anil’s head hanged low. He felt defeated. Asyoitan came, killed someone and slipped away while he was on guard and he didn’t even know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody had seen it but three innocent lives were taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The commotion woke up everyone in the village. They gathered around the victims’ hut but nobody spoke. Adam could see the fear and sorrow in their eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Amesh whispered something to Mahmood. He thought for a while then nodded. Both of them left quietly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;(TO BE CONTINUED)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2907364705645125359-6091557849436960077?l=non-conformis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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