Kopi Tiam

The Elusive Cup of Tea

2011-07-21T22:11:00.013+08:00

This world is getting weirder by the day. I don’t know if it was just me but when we found our ‘other half’, we will announce discreetly to those close to us. Or, only to admit when we are ‘caught’ being together. I say this because my dear niece took the value of announcing her other half to another height. And yes, you probably would have guessed correctly, it was through The Facebook. I can’t say much for today’s technology, though it may be seamless in many ways and gets the message across at the instance of a “tap”; it does have its limitations. Surreal it may be for people like us, the generation who has yet to fully comprehend information at the speed of light, nevermind the notion of software’s upgrades at the rate of changing clothes, are evidently lost. Do we attribute this as technological advances? Or, simply out of touch!

By the time the good news got to us, and yes it was through my sister’s and my offsprings, we went straight into the old way. We deliberated for days (that’s how slow things can move for oldies like us) as to who is the right person to make the phone call, which was a relief because I had the worry that my brother may prompt one of us to write via snail mail to her. Whilst we may have ‘progressed’ via exchanging our views through emails, the way in which we approached the issue was simply appalling. We considered, imagined, reconsidered, weighed and digress until the news has gone stale. For my niece, it was simply “Status changed” and everybody in her generation got the message she was hitched. Quite simple, Q.E.D. And the question to us is why we have to put ourselves into the gruelingly agonizing phase of considering the pros and cons of prompting her that innocent question. Yes, as elders we do enjoy the privy of being told, not ask! I suppose it was the ‘face’ value that led us to think of a nice way to ask her, out of curiosity and impatience. Instead, we went through long email exchanges.

Me: Just to share with you a piece of good news. Rumour has it that Ah Mei has found a boyfriend. Apparently, all in their generation are aware of it except oldies like us.

My brother: This is good news indeed. Can’t wait to see the photos

Me: For your eyes only.......hahahahaha

My Brother: Looks ok. How old is he and from where? Any idea?

Me: Ehhhhhhhhhh.......that's where your service comes in. Fah and myself deliberated in great length last nite and we arrived at a common consensus. You are the best person to call and find out! What was known in the FB, as stalked by Fah, he is from Kulai and suspected to be the brother of Mei's fren. Needs confirmation from your call to 2nd sis. Can you do the honour? If so, plse ask his occupation too

My brother: Pandai you both. Its odd for me to call her out of the blue so will wait till end Aug when mother goes HK and father is alone at home. Then i will have reason to call her. If both of you are impatient, suggest Fah to call as she talks to her more often. Perhaps a better proposition is that you call, this is a golden opportunity???

Me: Semua Tai-chi master sekarang!

My sister: Exactly, all desperado turn tai chi expert! I mustered enough courage to call them just now but of course I said u guys made me do it. Hihihihi.....

Anyway, Kiong was right, that guy is fr Saleng . He's now working in Senai. I did asked abt his job but it was a bit noisy when mei mentioned it. Sorry to say I was a bit deaf n didn't get wat she told me. Next time will check again. He's actually Ah Niu's school mate. They did go for yum char on n off since last yr but only now decided to "click".

Mei said he's a hardworking fellow, not much bad habits as in gambling etc... Well, she said will introduce to us during new year. I told her to post more updates so we can know the details. There u are, just a bit of news to satisfy your curiosity.

Me: Yes, fairy tales. Don't we all wish for fairy tales ending? Hahahah.. Anyway, that elusive cup of tea is all we are waiting for. Time to attend one lah.....and we are still waiting.

My brother: Come to think of it, our side is very slow (have not even started) compared to the Prawn & Pig families!

My Sister: Yup, our necks are longer than the giraffes with all the waiting. High time to have some celebration on our side! Hope it will come soon, high time for something to celebrate and look forward to.

With this, we hope the elusive cup of tea is just within our reach and about time we take our respective seats in the Elders Hall of Fame and await for that elusive tea. Seated, of course, as deserving elders of the clan!

雨中岁月

2011-06-29T01:06:00.008+08:00

I am not so sure if I can express this explicitly. 雨中岁月, in all its profoundness, was coined while I was hospitalised two weeks ago. A week in isolation and a week of rain do invoke a share of the bitterness of the bygone years. I don’t know if this is just me but rainy days have often, and for most of the time, been successful in opening the gap of nostalgia. More so, when I am about the face an impending change in my life and I have yet the fully comprehend the consequences.

With each patter of the rain onto the window’s glass, lies a sense of lingering thoughts silently creeping within the mind. Yes, it was yesterday when we may have nothing and yet we had everything. Life’s little parcels of subtlety dawns onto us, something we cannot measure materially. I still remember, as a child, looking into the cold dawn sky and awaiting/hoping for the morning rain to come. For it was only when it rains that mum will stay at home and make us Yong Tauhu and other delicacies. Naively, and it hadn’t occurred to me then, I had harboured the thoughts of rain coming everyday. Mum was paid a measly wage, not even a salary, so to speak.

We may laugh at it now, how life’s little offerings then can brings bundles of savouring joys and happiness as we joked around the dining table with seemingly idiotic topics. We were too young to understand behind these family’s joys lied the reality of worries my parents had to endure and the patience to see us grow up sensibly. I guess the rains of yesteryears may have covered the tears of unhappiness in their eyes. Or, we are simply too young to tell the differences.

As the years rolled on, I tend to have a newer perception of rain. Rain doesn’t pour in the UK; it simple drizzles helplessly through the day. Being nostalgic was never on the agenda as the priority is to complete the university life and get on with life. I see rain as something emphatically a fact of life there and we can do nothing about it. Perhaps, this was the reason why the years in UK were virtually blank within my memory bank. There are people, some simply flashed by, some still in acquaintances, nonchalantly chatting enthusiastically about the university’s life after 20 odd years. I just cannot figure out the thrills and funs within the vacuum of my university years, although I did have a lengthy one.

Today I may seemingly have almost everything and yet I still have nothing. You may say I am drooling melancholy into the rhythm of this rainy night. You may even say I am not willing to face the ironic truth and twist in life. But I have come so far and yet I still feel the sense of sadness with every step I take. The years have left me even deeper in loss however much the material world may have so generously bestowed onto my life. Material gains are never important in my journey of life and yet is being sought blindly by someone once closed to me. I can only say “雨中岁月留给我更深的迷惘”. My only consolation is, life is only as meaningful as you want it to be. Perhaps a rhapsody in the rain may, at times, camouflage the tears of life’s deeper puzzles.

Happy 51st Birthday to myself, amidst the profoundness of this pouring night.

A Laksa Sojourn in Guiyang

2011-05-26T11:18:00.008+08:00

Today I was asked to fly straight to Guiyang, without much notice to attend an adhoc meeting on Wednesday. This is not my first trip to Guiyang, in fact, a second trip to this ‘not-so-look-forward’ city. The only difference is I got to stay at Sheraton (and I have accumulated another few hundred points on the Starwood Preference Guests gimmick) and fly first class too. Now, in China, flying first class isn’t really first class. It is just a compartment with lesser people, so to speak.

And, the usual travelers’ woes in China prevailed! No matter what you say or hope, DELAYS are unavoidable. The plane was stuck at the apron, stewardess duly notifying all first class passengers of the ‘busy’ sky over Shenzhen. A fellow first class passenger, perhaps some rich Chinese rag-to-riches entrepreneur, unleashed his Vertu cell phone and made a call. In a matter of 15 mins, the plane (probably the only one) was allowed to pull back and ready to fly. As the plane pulls back, he got another call and duly thanked the other party for lending a hand. This is China and it is probably the only country that something of this nature can happen.

Anyway, it was a short 1hr 45 mins flight and I hardly finished the movie when the plane touched down at Guiyang and we were immediately ushered out via the VIP channel. Just like that……..and you are out of the airport, picked up by a fleet of limos. How is that, eh? That, incidentally, meant you are left with an empty stomach, devoid of a cigarette lighter (that’s China!) and got yourself into the room feeling hungrier than before you left. I had wanted to cut down my weight because of an impending surgery next month but the roar of the acids in my stomach is just too much to bear. Flipping through the room service, something caught my eyes. Yes, it was Malay Curry Laksa 180g ( I don't think we weigh our laksa back home, do we?).

Being away from home, I couldn't succumb to the temptation and hastily dial for room service. I asked the lady why is it listed as Curry Laksa? I hate to admit this but my mandarin is just not good enough in China, nor is my English. The lady made a quick decision and wisely revert the call to the chef.

I may be hungry but I can detect that accent even when my ears are stuffed full of wax! “Allo, eh can help you odour?” No, you can’t help me with my odour, I have my deodorant, but you can explain to me when is a laksa curry and vice versa. “Har”, he echoed faintly over the phone, “no, tis iis laksa lah, Ma-Lai-Si-Ya one”. “Yu wan or not, we can make hot hot one for you”. At this point, perhaps it was the hunger, or perhaps I was exhausted and I whispered YES.

The Malay Curry Laksa came and I eat it hungrily. Only to discover this may be the hottest laksa I have had the pleasure to savour. I am a laksa connoisseur, and tonight I cannot tell whether it is a delicacy of taste or a delicacy of passion. Apart from the ‘pedas-ness’, I can’t remember anything about it. The sweat beads instantly accumulated over my forehead and I had to wipe the sweats while they came out like Niagara Falls. Yes, even with a temperature of 14C in Guiyang, the sweat came on and on. Now I know what is Malay Curry Laksa 180g! 180g means the weight of your sweat!

This may be the most gratifying moment for me, to taste the Malay Curry Laksa 180g at an unearthly hour. More ironic is the fact that I had a sojourn with Malay Curry Laksa in Guiyang and to endure the excruciating experience of perspiring profusely while I ate on a breezy yet cool evening. Laksa, as they say, is best eaten at home……..not in a foreign land. Selamat malam orang kampung!

Attitude or Personality

2011-05-19T14:40:00.012+08:00

I have this amazing experience over the week-end; it did not happen once, that much I can assure you. The truth is it happened a good few times before I was asked by my buddy to write a blog on this odd-ball. He has made a special request that this blog should be satirical enough to stir some laughters, only for the smart witted readers, but not serious enough to hurt the person, yes perhaps the one and only of his kind left in this world. I am torn between words of truth and being satire. No, that’s an understatement for I actually struggled to sound nice when it irks.

This particularly bloke is actually a rather nice man when he is sober but intoxicated after about two bottles of beer, he turns to Mr. Hyde. You have people who seem nice and normal, and then in a matter of minutes turned into a clone of our infamous Perkasa Ali chap. Alas, unless you are really in a good mood, having to last his demonic sermon over the entire evening is somewhat an arduous task, even the 20 years old Chivas will not save you the wrath. If I may, I like to offer a theory to sum up this behavior. It is what I called “The Unbearable Beings of a Socially Suppressed Soul” and “The Insurmountable Needs to Hallucinate”. I think you get my point, either way it will drive a soul from mentally sound man into delusion.

The deluded bloke has this belief that he is born with three ominous signs, good grief he did not say three wise men went in search of him! A. he has brought along the gifted sword; B. the command flag and last, C. the imperial seal. I am usually an open-minded person, and I tend to accept myths and beliefs but towards him I tend to be remained cynical. Not sure if anyone would agree, despite the fact that I may slur in my speech (after heavy intoxication), I am skeptical to whatever he has to say. Mind you, he never changed his story and that was what is so amazing about him. They say if you keep telling the same lie for 100 times, or even 1000 times in his case, you will eventually believe it is true. I consulted a psychiatrist friend of mine, and he acknowledged this fact. Subconsciously the mind will turn blur pieces into crystal clear logically tied frames.

I am a moralistic type of person. And I loathe the way he boasts about his future billions and belittling you in the process. The reality is, at 50, he is still as broke as me. I may not be a fortune teller but I am certainly unconvinced that time is on his side to realize his 30 billion ringgit in liquid assets. Yes, that’s how much he is bragging of his future 30B. As if making a mockery of my humble pocket is his favorite past-time, his infamous moronic gesture would be, “Would putting 10M into your business venture good enough for you?” It hurts if one’s pride is persistently bombarded in that manner, that I am speaking from myself. I am not a beggar, I don't have a business but an ordinary average Joe who is an employee of a firm and last but not least, 10M is nothing (I may not have it) in today’s financial world. In one instance, it did occur to me what the outcomes were if I smashed the empty beer bottle over his head. I calculated my chances on where the blood would spurt; making sure my newly bought shirt is not stained from the oozing fountain of blood. Do I hack him once, or twice, or endless rounds of poundings? Nah, I have regained my composure for just as short as a time I spent on ways of smashing his head.

I think the whole thing about his ‘future’ asset is a bit of the old adage about money calls for money. In some way, I do sympathise him. Even if he were to make it, it is still like a hamster in a wheel, forever running for more. I rather am the humble average Joe than the hamster with 30B, would you?

And I have to agree with what Melody said all along, “I don’t have an attitude problem, I just have a personality you can’t handle”. I concede it's probably me that can't handle his personality rather than his attitude. Am I being too nice to him, bro?

星巴克

2011-03-03T19:43:00.009+08:00

They says “when it Rome, do as the Romans do”. How appropriate or inappropriate when it comes to China. I was away on a business trip last week, and ended up at Starbucks with the hope of bashing a last minute report and a sip of their kopi. That was my naive intention, not knowing in China, or perhaps particularly in Suzhou, Starbucks ambience doesn't exist. Or, was it just this particular outlet? This must be the noisiest, most unkempt and unruly rowdy that I have ever given the ‘pleasure’ to experience.

The whole saga began after I placed my order for an ordinary brewed coffee. Well, to be more precise, immediately after I made my order. “No more brew coffee”, that was their reply to my order. I looked at my watch, it was like 8pm. Isn’t that a wee bit early to shut off the coffee brewer? I felt short of passing out a sarcastic statement like “ok, Starbucks in China operates differently”, but decided to shut my mouth and ordered an Americano instead. You have to understand it was a freezing 3C when I walked into Starbucks and I have no intention of walking back without having my body properly warmed! I sat down after I was given the Americano and attempted to login their grueling Wi-Fi. What I didn't know, in China or in Starbucks China, you are given a whole page of Chinese wordings and mostly in the oddest short forms. And yes, they asked you the minutest details down to what’s your grandfather’s name and his mobile phone number (optional). You fill up as much as you can without realizing for most of the time the required details are simply superfluous and redundant. That’s half a cup of Americano to wake up your frozen system and to dig deep into your memory bank to search for the address of your last visit to China. Not realizing, if you ever bothered to intrude privacy (just a small peek will do), others next to me simply click “OK”. So why trouble us with so many questions when you can simply click “OK” instead? Am I being stupid or just being naive to give grandfather details in full length?

Next, the outlet was thronged with party goers instead of coffee connoisseurs or pretenders whatever you may choose to call them. Sitting close to my table, and yes it is THAT close, is a group of ladies in the shortest shorts and mini-skirts one can ever imagined, yes at 3C, and chirping merrily about their romantic catches. I don't know if it was just me but Chinese ladies’ are generally pitchy (plus bitchy for this group, if I may add), I wonder how they can get away with such high pitch and not feeling bad on the throat the next day. This lady, bosom-ly fat, said this and I almost choked myself with my Americano. She said, and this is exactly word for word, “my boss had blood oozing out of his nose the other day when I wore this deep V blouse the other day”. I took a peek, out of curiosity, and no this woman is not classified as having an ample bosom. The nearest description is a flat slab of fat somewhere near the bosom. And the sequel to that confession was, “that’s not right, you ought to wear a scarf next time you wear the deep V. I had this man following me for 4 km from railway station to where I live!!! (giggle giggle damn!)” Is that so, I asked myself. Well, why the hell did you walked 4 km in the first place??? And in the 2 hours or so, I must have been taught, reluctantly, a lesson or two on what women, in general, think of themselves. I guess a woman’s perception will always remain a mystery to man, or more appropriately Chinese ladies wearing short shorts and miniskirts in the coldest winter.

Was it a myth that Suzhou is a land of beaus? Wasn't the city a place of culture in the country’s golden age of literacy? Is it the group of ladies that shattered my dreams, was it Starbucks, or was it the place itself? I don't have the answer, perhaps it was a combination of all put together………..and perhaps, time has changed!

I left that evening feeling chilled to the spine, not because of the cold winter, but the tales from bosom, love, cheats to legs, the noises and the unbearable closeness to a sea of fellow strangers....and humming my version of good old John Lennon's Imagine....imagine there's no Starbucks...imagine all the people vanishing.....

Gong Xi Fa Cai

2011-01-29T14:34:00.014+08:00

It is the 24^th day of the twelve month in the lunar calendar. The northern folks celebrate the “Xiao Nian” on the 23^rd whilst the southern counterparts do it on the 24^th. And yes folks, it is the time to usher yet another year in the lunar calendar. A time where most of us, home or abroad, will press ahead with the preparation, (and yes, my brother will do it the last minute) to celebrate the most festive of all Chinese festivals. Such sentiment is probably a reflection of something inside us, not sure what that is but somehow it has something to do with the nostalgic feeling like one have been transported back to the past. It’s actually a nice feeling, longing for the past and familiar things or places that we once experienced. Some may say that CNY these days are indeed very different from the bygone years, yet some may still insist that CNY and all those superstitions remained despite the changing of time. I don’t know about others but I belong to the generation of older fashion, and it is times like these that I have the urge to go home and be with my folks. I would………if not because of ……..I shall keep the reasons to myself and hope others do celebrate, by and large, a happy lunar new year.

Life does work in a peculiar manner, somewhat ironical way if you insist. Whilst others are heading for last minute shopping, booking the last flight out or whatever, I choose to stay behind for what is my very first CNY in Hong Kong. Not bad for an old git like me, trying out new things in my autumn years. It is my 19^th years in HK, and I will stay here, alone, to celebrate the New Year in the comfort of my humble abode. I am not sure if spending the New Year alone in a foreign land is a good idea especially when your heart is already home. Yet, I am going to give it a try and subconsciously I have a feeling this year is going to be different than the years I have known. But that’s life, and life can sometimes be really paradoxical. It may not be the CNY you knew, certainly not the best but you may have to muster the courage to live through lest you are oblivious of your own existence. To appreciate the best, you need to value the alternatives. Or, bluntly and inextricably straight “Beggars have no choice”.

I hate to admit this but drooling into the night and nostalgically humming along melancholy the evergreens of CNY songs alone via YouTube (why did they invent internet, by the way??), is not exactly the kind quintessential spirit of CNY. The singers may have changed with time but the timeless songs and lyrics lingered on in total serenity. It is also moments like this, that you will, undoubtedly, resort yourself to a spectrum of hallucination of yesteryears. Strangely, if we examine our thoughts, we will find the past as the sweetest despite those bitter years. I remember now, as I remembered then, the smell of the lingering aroma of mum’s signature dish “Kau Yuk” and the overly fizzy Sarsi to drown oneself under the heat of our Malaysian zinc roofed home. Guess I will attempt to make one for myself on New Year’s Eve and feast it without Sarsi. With a bit of imagination over the anticipation of the joys of yesterdays, the “Kau Yuk” should taste just as fine……..I hope.

I have digressed too much tonight. Maybe it is the wintry cold night, maybe it is the time of the year to be at home, or maybe it is the guilt of not being to be near my old folks. The bottom line is, CNY is just around the corner and feeling homesick is always forgiven. 我想有个家……

祝你们春节快乐，年年高升, 事事順利

All We Want For Christmas

2010-12-24T11:36:00.005+08:00

This Christmas I can't think of anything else but this.......

My brother wrote this touching email in search of my long lost aunt.

Dear Sister Maria,

Thank you very much for spending time to meet me and my sister last month Nov 10 on the case of my auntie given up for adoption. Once again, we apologise for dropping by without prior calling you to make an appointment.

Since our discussion, i have been eagerly awaiting to hear from you and was wondering whether there was any development to your follow up checking of my mother's sister.

To recap, i provide again below some pertinent info that might help with this case. Note names below might vary in spelling :- Father's name - Chew Kong or Chew Yit Kong Mother's name - Chin Foong Long lost daughter - Chien Moi Birth Certificate - issued in Kulai, Johor. Handed to Convent during adoption and should have parent's name as above. Date of Birth - believed to be 16th Feb 1947 Name of Convent - in mandarin translated as "Huang Chia Tian Chu Jiao Tang".

My auntie was brought to the Convent by my late maternal grandfather when she was about 2 years old, probably in 1949 for adoption. Understand the nuns then wore white hat, black gown with alot of bells at bottom of gown. He was told by the Convent that the daughter given up for adoption could be redeemed back anytime before she was 8 years old.

Unfortunately due to very tough times then, she was not redeemed within the 8 years. This was made worse by the fact that my late grandfather went back to China in the early 1950's and since then was not able to return because communism had taken over China. Years passed and it was not until my late grandfather told my mother in late 1980's that she had a sister given up for adoption in Singapore. It was his dying wish that they be reunited one day. My mother did advertise in Singapore Chinese papers then but there was no response received.

My late grandfather passed away in early 1990 without knowing the fate of his long lost daughter. My mother is now 76 years old and her only wish is to be able to locate this sister (only sister left).

You had mentioned that the Convent's archives is now closed and cannot be reopened. My mother and i seek your kind assistance for humanitarian reasons to assist with opening of the archives to retrieve any available info on my long lost auntie so that we know where she is now and attempt to reconcile the sisters which had already been separated for about 61 years now. The privacy reasons that you raised in our discussion is understandable but i consider this more than just a matter of privacy. In everything, there is a closure and solong as we do not know what her current status is, there would be no closure to what my mother is enduring now. I am very sure that in such circumstances, my long lost aunt would be very, very happy to know she has a long lost sister and it is my belief she would jump at the opportunity to be reunited with her.

This is not about taking away someone's else privacy, it is about bringing lots of joy and happiness to 2 sisters. And more importantly, a closure to 61 years of suffering and emotional torment endured by my late grandfather and my mother now. We as children want to do what we can to help her and we wish for your kind help too in this regard.

If she can be located, to overcome the privacy issue, we are prepared for you to first contact her and ask her whether she would want to meet up with her sister. We will respect her decision. Alternatively if you cannot locate her, any leads you can provide to us in respect of her possible whereabouts would be very much appreciated. We will then follow up and investigate ourselves.

On behalf of my mother and siblings, i thanked you for your kind consideration and assistance in this difficult issue which if resolved could bring great joy and happiness to all. We eagerly await to hear from you. May God bless you for your good deeds and best wishes for a merry Xmas/New Year.

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND MAY THE LIGHT OF HOPES SHINE ON ALL OF US.

Epitome of Sheer Indulgence

2010-12-20T16:34:00.014+08:00

I am not sure if I am correct in citing sheer indulgence, or was it a fact of soul searching. Nonetheless, I did pack my bag and braved Hangzhou at her bitterest winter. I chose the place because of its’ peace and tranquility, or more precisely, I fell in love when I was watching “If You Are the One”. I couldn't help it but seeing the main actor cruising amongst the deity willow trees along the banks of the wetland is more than enough than anyone can possibly ask. With that, I left Hong Kong for Hangzhou in the early noon last Friday. It was 7C when I left Hong Kong and -3C when I reached Hangzhou that afternoon.

I have never been to Hangzhou, be it for work or for leisure. For as much as travel is concerned, I never found difficulties in getting from one place to another. But Hangzhou turned out to be a nightmare for poor travelers like me. First, the taxi meanders from what was supposing a dual 3 lane carriageway to what I am most certain to be a dual 5 lane carriageway designed for buses, and speeding like Formula One. It came to no surprises if the taxi driver comes to screeching stop just millimeters from a potentially fatal accident. Throughout the journey, and it is 2 hrs from the airport to my hotel, I had, on several occasions, decided upon the various mode a person can get killed in a foreign land, leaving the rest of the time toying with regrets that I hadn’t done my WILL should anything happened to me. By the time I made it to the hotel in one piece, daylight has long become a forgotten past. The only consolation is what Banyan Tree can offer to tired, scare and undignified traveler like me. It was shivering cold when I entered the 5 storey lobby hall, with a cold draft trailing my back as I came in from the front entrance. I am not sure if I can push the wooden door with all my might under that cold spell but I probably can’t do it even on the mildest winter. It is rock solid wood as high as three storeys which, makes you wonder how the hell the doorman did it!

The first night wasn't much of an adventure except my room is the classic Banyan Tree “pamper oneself to death” type of interiors. I say this because it takes eternity to walk from one end of the room to the other, not forgetting the bathroom is a few times bigger than my whole apartment put together. The Hangzhou banyan tree went one step further, apart from the conventional bathtub; they gave you the tantalizing Elliptical Ofuro wooden tub. Is this sheer indulgence or what? One thing for sure, never ever does that if you are under 5ft 5 inches or more precisely if you have short legs. The height itself is a deterrence of shorties or wannabies. Then again, if you fancy a greater fall than Humpty Dumpty, be my guest!

The Xixi Wetland tour turned out to be more like an anti-climax because of the overly advertised picturesque setting in the movie. Alas, what I didn't know was the director had chosen Spring/Summer time to vividly account the beauty of Xixi as the backdrop. Here, I was confronted with branches and twigs, occasionally snow-capped, if not for the waterways, an arid condition. And yes, what you see in the movie aren’t necessary real. They are, in fact, the concoction of photography and carefully chosen angles. But I had my fun snapping what I believe Director Feng would have chosen had “If You Are the One” was shot in winter.

Though Xixi wasn't as beautiful in the winter as it would be in the summer, the hills of Hangzhou offers the best winter scenes I have ever experienced in my life. I braved myself through slippery icy and winding roads to the hill-top just to savage the essence of LongJing tea. I am not sure if it was the tea or the water or both that made the savoring the unique taste. That was the better part of the story, and the other part was, I am pretty sure I was slaughtered over the price of Longjing tea. You pay for what you think it is worth. There isn’t an upper limit, that I am very sure. The lower limit could be you ended up not taking any Longjing downhill.

There really is a lot to do in Hangzhou and I will definitely be returning again to see the places I haven’t had the chance to see in this bitter winter and most importantly to come back in the summer. But from now on, whenever I look into going on a holiday it will definitely be based around sheer indulgence. And, why not?

Profoundly Yours

2010-11-16T15:08:00.000+08:00

I have often wondered which is sadder; life’s journey through lesser cross-roads or life’s journey through endless cross-roads. I don’t have an answer to this profound thought but I do solemnly believe one’s life is pretty much a pre-determined equation the moment one emerged into this world of reality. The only difference is where we place the unknowns and the constants. Or rather, should I say how I wished the equation is all constants and never changing.

Life is never that perfect, it comes with all forms of ‘unpredictable’ and these ‘unpredictable’ always come in series, endless to some poor sods like me. These so called ‘unpredictable’ happened partly because we don’t treat and respect what was coming? Or is it the way we handled it that led to a state of eternal inequilibrium? I am at some kind of another crossroad in my life, it is not about money; nor is it about belief; it is a question of integrity and dignity. An integrity that will soon lead to yet another failed relationship. A dignity that, you may claim, prevented the salvage of a relationship. In some way, the crisis has taken its toil and I am somewhat tired physically, stretched mentally and emotionally stricken.

All of a sudden, my life is, strangely, looking more like the deciduous trees. Everything has fallen apart except in no part does the falling away……. May I say the losing foliage resembles the very end of a relationship? Perhaps I must learn to comprehend the calamity that has befallen onto me. Perhaps I should give up, which is a bad way or perhaps, I should face the real hard way, and learn to fight back. And I am not writing this as a desperate attempt to resurrect a failed relationship that has lost its glory with time. This is also not a time to seek solace that shadows my sadness. Hard it may be that this once a decorative chapter of my very existence has come to an end. I am, as some put it, at a peculiar crossroad where time, place and eternity somehow meet, and my only problem is to find exactly where the missing part of the puzzle were.

I found this poem in the internet, and it somehow reflects my state of mind and soul.

I think and expect u to know
I feel and I assume you, too, experience life the same as I
So, I hide my thoughts and keep them for me
Because it is safe that way
The shadows belong to me
I have no reason to believe that you would leave
But my mind sometimes tells me otherwise
For, what if the darkness was too great for you?
What if the sadness overpowered you?
For that reason, I don’t want to take you with me
Rather, I need you to be constant, never changing
So, hold me when I need to be comforted
And release me when I just need space
And I will promise to slowly let you in.

This moment I will not forget. I hope I will not live to regret the decision I made today. In the words of Robert Frost, “I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence; two roads diverged in a wood and I, I took the one less travelled by and that has made all the difference”.

Getting Old and Getting Use to It

2010-03-29T23:24:00.002+08:00

Last Sunday I had an alarming experience. I was awakened by an excruciating muscle cramp on both my legs. I don’t think I can recollect an occasion where I have the attack on both legs at the same time. It just happened. To make it worse, my lower back (lower right to be exact) developed an intense spasm. Yes, you can’t move a single muscle as it will only make the situation more unbearable. It is definitely not a temporal paralysis because I knew I could move my muscles if I wanted to.

I suppose this is part and parcel of getting old. It’s inevitable. With old age comes a myriad of mysterious ailments that may be associated with the decrease in bodily functionality. Irregardless how much supplements one may care to take, there comes a time where the body will deteriorate. Of course, there is no reason why one should not continue taking more supplement. I am an advocate of prevention is better than cure.

And I am going to take the Transfer Factor. Honestly, I have no idea what this supplement will do, but I do trust my good buddy. If he is taking, I will follow suit. I do hate the sight of me wriggling on the floor like a gigantic overweight worm the other day, and I will do anything except a repeat of that deplorable sight.

The back spasm, according to my GP, is a muscle inflammation. I have reasons to believe in what he said because an injection and a round of pain killers seemed to have it cured. But I do acknowledge the fact that when you start to age, it is an irreversible process. So……..make the most of it while you are still young and ably.

Prologue To Freedom

2010-01-31T22:52:00.006+08:00

My nephew is about to embark a new journey in his life. A journey he, probably, has waited since the day he was born. This is probably not a bad thing, considering he has planned it all the way, albeit through my sister's life time savings. And so she claims! Whoever life savings it may be, my nephew is heading to the southern hemisphere for a bit of adventure. I do not know, for sure, if this journey will change his life but I do know he is going there with anticipations and hopes.

When I was at his age, probably a century ago, I too went away from home to further my education. Perhaps the changing of time may have changed many things but I am sure the perception of ‘overseas’ remains the same, perpetually. I say ‘perception’ because I was led to believe, not that anyone forced me at gun-point, but I just happened to embrace it with open arms. It is a surreal but real, at least at that juncture in time it was. So here it is, Z-boy for you only.

Myth No:1
All Caucasian ladies are an easy catch.
Facts No:1
If you really believe this, then there is a 1 in a 10000000000000 chance you will get laid.

Myth No:2
You get to stay away from the wrath of Mummy.
Facts No:2
Just remember the wrath of Mummy is just a skype call away, or a tap of the finger.

Myth No:3
You get to kiss a girl under the mistletoe.
Facts No:3
Too many guys out there think exactly like you. So what are your chances?

Myth No:4
There is this thing called Mixed Dorm.
Facts No:4
Mixed Dorm exists if you consider guys with long hairs and occasionally dressed like a woman in parties.

The list is endless, my dear nephew and I can go on writing all the myths but I think you are smart enough to get my pointers by now. What you will feel, especially over the first 3 months is most irk symptoms of all…….you get very homesick. I have no intention of writing what homesick really means as it may vary between individuals. But the notion of suffering from homesick is enough to get you more homesick. So beware! Now I know what you are going to say. The problem was more apparent during my time because we don’t have internet; or more importantly money to take the next flight home. We gotta be more careful here. Adult males are more susceptible to emotional changes and the domino effects that can easily bring you down to your knees unless Myth No:1 comes true. In which case, the surge in testerones will quickly overcome the homesickness syndrome.

Your next problem could be a nightmare. Yes, you have to do your own laundry. It is not the laundry but the long hours waiting for your clothes to get dried by the tumble dryer. Imagine waiting for what seems like eternity, you have no choice but to see the tumbling go round and round. In no time, you will get into a hypnotized stage and that’s when you wished Myth No:2 come true. You rather hear her constant nagging then to turn into a zombie!

I say no more but sincerely hope that you will make an effort to ‘enjoy’ your independence. I can’t say for sure how much a change NZ can do for you in a manner England did to me. Frankly speaking, how many of us like to be away from home? Sometimes we are forced to make the choice, to make that edge to do well in our future. But more importantly, do well and bring the glory home. You are obligated, you don’t have a choice.

Last but not least, and this is from my friend (he is 66 this year!), his dad told him these words at the departure hall when he left for Australia. "If you like to drink milk, do drink as much as you can but don’t bring home the COW……." hahahahahha. Get it? I think your old man is open enough to whisper these words into your ear...... oops! I may be wrong, he is following you.

2010

2009-12-30T23:17:00.007+08:00

Hmmm..... 2009 is fast drawing to a close and we are almost into 2010. What a year it has been…..no, it should be “what a dreadful year it has been”. And it could only be one thing; a new year is one year older for everyone. Think about it, you grow more wrinkles, and IF you can see them, it means you are not that old. If you can’t notice the difference, then you are really old.

Should ageing be a worry? I mean, in terms of appearance, wrinkled skin, flabby arms, bulging stomach, tiredness. I admit I could be one of them but then again I am sure I am much better than so many others out there who are worried stiff and anxious about their increasing age. So much so they resolutely resolve to find the best wrinkle treatment (yeah anti-ageing serum), botox (I like to have that jab but is too timid to puncture my face), face lift, etc. And all these hassles, just to look younger…but less vibrant. I don't know much about human needs and expectation but I reckon it depends on a person’s perception on ageing. To me, aging is a natural process ( ..I honestly can’t take the jab, nor would I succumb to lipo-suction). And although I hated the grey hair over my baldy head, I will have to look at them as a sign of wisdom beyond my years.

I am not going to turn this blog into the musing of an old man; I admit I have been rambling wee too much over the year. I blamed it on the stress and sleepless nights to deliver my projects; ending with my body finally gave way. I was down with the flu (good grief it is not the H1N1) and it came with a bad timing; to be sick during the X’mas holidays, when it’s supposed to be fun, fun, fun! But I am not going to digress….

Yes, 2009 has been an eventful year. The global economy took a better turn, the people are looking optimistic; at least it is true in Hong Kong. The US president was made a Nobel peace prize laureate (now why do they use the word laureate?); for not doing anything. It was also a year where the entire world met at Copenhagen in the name of saving the world; achieving only in principles, and with no fixed deadlines whatsoever. Mexico spread out the H1N1; WHO quickly escalated the Swine Flu to epidemic scale. Malaysia quickly renamed the Swine Flu to Influenza A; what a name!! PKFZ ballooned into an intangible scandal; causing chaos in MCA. The Art of War was put in good use; by the president and deputy president and the rest of the young pretenders. 1Malaysia became the slogan for all Malaysia; but none of us actually understood what it really meant. It degenerated into ManyMalaysia the moment it was introduced. MACC became the talk of the town; and you can’t be seen wearing black and definitely not seen mingling in groups in town. And whilst others waited to usher to coming of 2010, here is something for all of us to ponder. “Remember, not everything has a happy ending and endings have no ends; it’s just a way of telling us a new beginning has just begun. You should always be ready to predict the unpredictable, expect the unexpected and never troubled trouble with troubles. It’s easy to fall; hard to get up. Once you’re up; you will be a better man.”

HAPPY NEW YEAR, 新年快樂 and Selamat Tahun Baru.

A Kim-Chi Christmas

2009-12-12T19:23:00.011+08:00

I do not know if it was due to the coldness, or it is a fact, but I found Seoul a very dull city. When I arrived on Monday evening, it was pitched dark as we made our way to the city in one of the airport coaches. I must say, it was rather entertaining for what I thought was a 30 minutes ride. But the ride went on and on as if I might be sharing my remaining years with the fellow passengers. I couldn’t sleep, possibly I was under-dressed to the minus zero climate, as the coach meanders itself through the city’s clogged sea of Hyundai cars (actually it reminded me of our Proton Sagas but slightly larger; looks and feels better). Everybody around me went into deep sleep some 5 minutes after the coach pulled itself out of Incheon International Airport. There are about 2 persons awake inside the compartment, I say ‘about’ because I suspect the driver was half sleeping and quite possibly dreaming of his Kimchi and other banchans.

Nonetheless, we eventually got to our hotel. Novotel Ambassador Seoul is located in the small district of Seoul, I thought. Everything inside reminded me of good old England except for the staff. Er……..not exactly, only the ladies…hehehehe. I have to say, I have heard and read much about the plastic surgeries; I spent my time observing in lengthy details while she checks over my particulars. All I can say is, with the exception of the hair, every single feature on her face has undergone a degree of ‘adjustment’. That same observation is more or less extended to the number of air-stewardesses, except the one who served my compartment is a bloke, an ex-weightlifter from Korea to be more precise. How unfortunate, but Asiana Airlines is highly recommended should one consider a trip to Korea. Just remember not to bring the wife!!!

Anyway, it’s not that I was surprise to encounter Christmas decoration in Seoul. I know many eastern cities celebrate the festivity. On a serious note though, I think all Christmas decorations are inherently bright, yes, some brighter than others, but overall, the Koreans made them more intelligent and informative. This was the exact feeling when I first arrived Hong Kong many moons ago. What happens over time though, is they became dumber due to commercial exploitation.

Whilst waiting for dinner, my curiosity took the better of me. I asked a waitress, and yes I took a closer look at her knifed marks…., what Christmas meal do Koreans take during Christmas. Her answer came as natural as the unmarked knifed marks on her face, and yes it is Kim-Chi and Dog meat. My eyebrows rose, “dog meat?” I said. To which she pleasantly corrected my accent, “duck, quack quack…duck meat”.

Passport or Pasport?

2009-12-10T23:59:00.003+08:00

Fill what’s empty; empty what’s full; and scratch where it itches. I can only say, “How very true”. And I couldn’t help but feel this way when I went to the consulate to have my passport renewed. The crowd in the small room is always usually small, and hence an opportunity to observe fellow bolehland citizens doing what they don’t normally do at home. And yes, despite some idiotic remarks from our very own minister that English is weird, the language of communication is …. English. It amused me thinking what a silly comment that one cared to utter just for the sake of down-playing the commonest language.

The strange thing is when you actually spoke in English, the staff on the other side of the glass wall responded in English too. My guess would be the staff in the consulate got tired of negative responses whenever they ask a question in bahasa. And naturally, or unnaturally, resolved to use the weird language as a form of communication. I have to admit, both sides of the glass wall actually spoke immaculate English. I challenged myself by closing my eyes, and for a moment I thought …….what happened to our distinct accent? Where are the “lahs”, “one” and other forms of colloquialism?

The other oddity is the cost of renewing the passport. How come they charged us a bomb in Hong Kong but much lesser back home? Is it because they provide better services here? I guess not; they don’t serve me kopi-O or curry puff while we waited. They don’t give us any free WI-FI and no GST either. Why the difference in prices, I ask? I don’t have an answer for that except I felt the pinch……..urrgggh right there!

But the weirdest thing of all is the speed in which they prepared your passport for collection. You just have to give them credit for preparing your passport for collection. I guess the limited staff discouraged them from indulging in small talks, but kept them in focus on delivering their tasks.
But the best part is………when it comes to my turn, the system went dead! They tried many times, calling Putrajaya but to no avail. I guess Putrajaya is too busy to entertain them when our streamyx or whatever work at the speed of snail and that is, if you are lucky. Anyway, the system came back much later, probably after summoning 10 contractors who spent more time filling the correct forms and insisting it is not their responsibilities, ….you know the feeling of being sent on a headless chase. At for that one moment I told myself something just don’t change, even if they don’t admit it, there are certain traits of the old habits!

A Mid-Autumn's Tale

2009-10-03T09:20:00.006+08:00

It is supposingly mid-autumn festival tomorrow, and the mercury has yet to dip below 24C. The long summer in Hong Kong has no inkling of coming to an end, nor is autumn starting to prevail in this part of the world. The usual festivity mode has yet to take effect, counting by the number of moon-cakes one received this year. Is it because people no longer care about the festival, or is it because people has taken a sudden interest to keep one’s health in proper perspectives, or could it be the financial meltdown that made everyone more selective in who and who truly deserved the moon-cakes! I rest my case, for I have been in Hong Kong long enough to be 'sinolised’ and quite rightly think more a Chinese than a Malaysian.

The Mid-autumn festival is taken very seriously in this part of the world. The Chinese, will celebrate the Mid-autumn over 3 days, giving each day a name to signify its importance. You have ‘welcoming the moon’, ‘ushering the moon’ and lastly, ‘chasing the moon’. 17 years ago, the mid-autumn festival is nothing more than a lantern festival to me whereby you eat moon-cakes in abundance. 17 years later, the festival has taken a separate meaning. Part of it is being with the family, for a reunion dinner, and the other part of it is deciding how to spend the night with your lovely other half (if you have one, that is). Or, quite simply “When the moon is round, families unite.” "Yuè yuán, rén yuán."

I am not too sure if this was my imagination but the moon in Hong Kong is certainly bigger and rounder than the one I have seen in my home country. It is so BIG that you focused on your gaze for more than 5 minutes; you will eventually see Wu Gang chopping the cherry tree. Nah, nothing of that sort, a legend is forever a legend. You heard the story a thousand times, you can’t seriously believe there is Chang’e, the rabbit, and the woodcutter up there, would you? But it is always a nice story to tell despite silly Armstrong planting a flag there for no apparent reason. And yes, the festival does invoke a sense of nostalgia. Gone were the days when children could roam around the streets in the dark with their lanterns and more importantly without the fear of being kidnapped. It was an age of simplicity when a simple lantern is all it takes to give the child a sense of content. These days, kids don’t roam in the dark no more, the roam the net and surf to their heart’s content. Which begs the question, which generation is happier?

I am not going to digress into the importance of this festival; it is indeed a matter of personal judgment. This is the first year my Melody is not celebrating Mid-autumn with her old man. I hope when she sees the London moon today, she will remember her ever lonely dad at home. So, despite our government’s fruitless effort to have a formula 1 team, the incredibly lack of commercial intuition to ‘exchange’ the land in Tanjong Pagar, the yoyo politics and finally the comedies of mis-quotation by some of our ministers….. Yes, I like to celebrate the festival my way. Guess I will sit down to taste the latest edition of moon-cakes…..the bird’s nest version. And perhaps with a tiny tinkle of Lafitte it should go down well. Happy Mid-autumn folks.

Play it again, Sam

2009-08-27T23:29:00.004+08:00

Some say as one aged, one’s memory tends to fade exponentially. But, it is equally true that as one’s memory faded, one will try hard to remember one’s actual age. I did not make this up; my sister merely ‘said’ this in her son’s blog. She refuses to tell her birthday age (being a female gender) but I suspect it was because she couldn’t remember and hides it conveniently under her senility.
How time flies, I still remember the years when our birthdays went away unnoticed except mum would always insist upon having us to swallow two really hard boiled eggs. And that is a sign of another year older. There wasn’t a gift, or a surprise birthday cake, or even some birthday parties, as such. It was an era of simplicity where two hard boiled eggs was all you get. I don’t remember myself going through a real birthday party, nor would I remember my sister having one. I guess we were too ignorant of the importance of birthdays. Incidentally, how important is the birthday anyway? It only reminded us we are a year older, which was fine when you are in your teens. When one gets to 40s, a birthday will only remind us the number of extra wrinkles, the problem of having to count one year less and finally, the whole idea of not wanting to remember our age.

Anyway, this is not my birthday but Sam’s. I will let her age remain a mystery but I am sure you can count the number of wrinkles on her face to make a good guess. The other mystery is her name. Sam has always been the nickname we so affectionate bestowed on her, and we continued to use the name irregardless of the other name for her. Sam is not short for Samantha but rather Sam Quat. I will not go through how the second part of her nickname came about, but I will be happy to reveal the truth if her children conveniently bribe me to a super jumbo size laksa, else my lips are sealed…….zip zip.
The other thing about this younger sister of mine is her insidious effort to make her cents worth. I don’t know which side of the genes she inherited but it will always marvel me in total astonishment every time she displays her skills. She orders her Roti Canai in the strangest way, yes the empat segi version instead of the usual circular version. Empat segi is a special order, and it has to be made to order. Instead of the mass production type, some of which ended cold and no longer flaky, you get a freshly made, baking hot roti……….all for a mere 60 cents or a little more now! She wouldn’t admit this but rather attributes it to being not so oily. I will take my hat off for her chivalric act for being so particular but I am sure she wouldn’t have it if she was the one that does the toss. Very healthy, plus her forever kurang kurang manis teh tarik. Each time I have breakfast with her, she mumbles an extra kurang. I am not over-reacting but I suspect it is age rather than health that made her mumbles another kurang. I said it before and I will say it again, for no matter how times you care to mention kurang, you will still end up with the sweetest teh tarik. That being the case, Sam will always have her means to dilute it. She asks for hot water! And you know what? Paid one, get one free.

I say no more. Happy birthday my dear sister, and may you have great health. Remember age is only a number, that is, if you can still remember it.

Postscript: Greetings from my two children who also celebrated their birthdays today.

A Connoisseur of Bak Kut Teh

2009-08-15T21:09:00.006+08:00

Most of my early memories about, places I heard and have been, places I heard and never been, or places I have never heard and never been, have a singular commonality. And, that is their names! Last weekend, I did what I am notoriously famous for…yes, I brought my two golden oldies out for a breakfast to a place I thought was “Su Li Li”, or “Solily”, or even “Solili” whichever fitted the pronunciation of the day. I have no idea, of course (in hindsight), the real name of this place until I was confronted with the ever educational Malaysian highway signboard. It indicated “Tg. Sedili”, and you can imagine the surprise on my face, that after so many years of being misled by some idiotic assumptions on the mispronunciation of the name of a rustic town in my very own state.

Anyway, to put things in a better perspective, I have never been to this place, I must admit even though it is like some 100 kms from my hometown. Neither has my mum. The only person claiming to have a vague but brief visit to that town was my father. I say vague because my dad never fails to amaze me with his mental and memory prowess. Vague means he knows every bends and junctions, and detailed meant he can direct you over kampong roads and meanders you to the destination. With that, we set out to savour the infamous Bak Kut Teh of Sedili.

The place, or rather the “restaurant”, is in the middle of nowhere, I bet you with my last dollar that you will never believe any person with the right frame of entrepreneur mind would ever spare thought of opening business there. It is like….hmmm oil palms tree, narrow roads, and in the middle of nowhere…I know I will start a Bak Kut Teh business here!!! Where on earth do you find your patronage? I still don’t understand how this silly tawkay found a convincing reason to suggest it will be profitable venture. It is either he is mad, yup cuckoo enough to enter Tampoi mental hospital, or he has a crystal ball to read the future potentials. Anyway, the place is packed with people under the comfort of an attap roof, with only ventilation provided by a few grandfather’s fan, and yes those fans are old enough to be housed in the museum.

The Bak Kut Teh, I have to admit is indeed deliciously nice and meaty. I am not the official connoisseur, I am afraid that honour must go to my old man. Sitting down, looking at him sipping the thick soup and chewing the meat with his remaining teeth was a sheer joy, despite having the discomfort of fanning yourself to tone down the perspiration. Every mouthful is the same old remarks…good…good…fresh…not boney. I believe those remarks were genuinely uninhibited compliments, judging from the way he left his lips and cheek stained with thick soya sauce. Somehow, I do feel good looking at him savour every mouthful of the delicacy, albeit his clumsiness in table etiquette. But who cares, if it is good, it should be eaten in this manner! Say what you may, but I can’t see the difference between Bak Kut Teh and durian fanatics! Both have the same attributes, eat clumsily and enjoy the taste first lah.
After that late late breakfast (hey, it is a long way to nowhere!), my two golden oldies unanimously requested a trip to Tg. Sedili, to which I obligingly agreed. It was another 25 km drive, and it was then I discovered mum had no idea where this place was, and dad could paint the minutest details of the place he visited 40 over years ago. And he was right; Sedili is a rustic sleepy town with only short stretch of really old houses. Surprisingly the place is more Chinese even though it was meant to be a Malay kampong. We made a long trip there, only the exit without stopping. I can’t say I have done enough for my old folks but seeing them chatting happily throughout the journey is something different from the daily squabbles over little things. They were in coherence through and through, which I should say is a rarity. I guess one today is worth two tomorrows is perhaps the best way to sum up this rather adhoc trip. I hope one day, in years to come, my offspring will also reciprocate this gesture to me, and I am sure by then I will know how to pronounce and spell Sedili correctly.

Loyar Loyar

2009-07-25T00:24:00.008+08:00

If ever I was young again. If ever I was given a second chance in my life. If ever I were to re-live the good old days again, I will brace myself for a law degree. How nice if life were to grant me another chance to do it all over again. How very nice that I will be paid to speak my heart’s content, even when it is complete utter nonsense and still be paid to shut my mouth as well!
And yes, I am proud to say my nephew graduated with a double degree, BA and B. Law, this Wednesday. He is the first in the family to have undergone the law course, and I am sure he will not be the only one. There is another one emerging over the horizon. Which begs the question, what does it take to be a lawyer? Will the square nerds in your class make it to be the very top barrister? Or, could it be the lot that tell lies, brags and make unimaginable excuses that will eventually end up as a lawyer? I will leave it to your imaginations and opinions. To me, you need to be gutsy enough to tell a lie and then live with the lie without any guilt in your own conscience at all. I am not saying my nephew belongs to that category but I suspect he is near enough to be admitted.

Or, should I say, they are 'willing to distort' the truth and gives everyone a perception that they have argued within the context of the law of the day, 'twist the punctuations' to validate their argument? To be fair, they are being paid to confuse ordinary folks like you and me. And to be even fairer, with a fee they can make your day. Cool, isn’t it?
Having said all these, lawyers do ask the dumbest and obvious questions. It is according to the law, they argued, but when you look at it as a layman, hey presto it sounds pretty stupid!

a. Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?
b. The Washington Monument, is it in Washington DC?
c. Your youngest child is twenty one, how old is he?
d. Were you present when your photo was taken?
e. Were you alone, or by yourself?
f. Was you or your friend who was killed in the backstreet that evening?
g. You weren’t there at the time of the murder, is that true?
h. She had two children, both were boys. Were there any girls?
i. The suspect is medium height and had a beard, is he male or female?
J It is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law somewhere.

Guess I have made my points. I am not a sour-grape, and it never crossed my mind to belittle them. As I said before, they are being paid to speak utter nonsense, at least it sounds like it to me. I mean, really, these are the same people who are pass their “Inns of Court” and henceforth could really sound contradictory, especially when what they are saying now may go completely opposite in another case.

And my dad would probably say, “One of my grandsons is a liar …errr…..loyar now.” Haizzzz…….I wished I too was a lawyer…….in my dreams, perhaps. Or, should I say I leave this unfulfilled dream to my son. How does it sound to you, little Abel?

有空來坐坐

2009-07-20T23:48:00.009+08:00

I have only one word to describe my life over the last two weeks, and that is, TIRING. I was zipping in and out, working over the weekends to fit my schedules, and without a day’s break. I must really be getting old because the once young body is beginning to feel the tiredness creeping. And it was over dinner, in Cambodia, that my close friend asked this simple question…. “Do you have any regrets in your life so far?” I don’t have an answer to his rather innocent question, but I do know, for sure, I will never win the British Open Golf championship no matter how hard I may try. And I also know I will not become the Prime Minister of my home country, ever! Not that I am hard-up to become the First Citizen, I simply know I will never achieve it come what may.

As I board on the plane to Hong Kong that quiet evening, and after the initial scrabbling and commotion of seats by fellow travelers, I knew I found the answer to my friend’s simple question. It was found in the lyrics of a Mandarin song. I may not be Chinese educated but having stayed in Hong Kong for 17 years; I can claim to have achieved a certain proficiency in understanding and reading the characters.

And here is it, to the many others like me out there, finding an excuse of what to do with life and what the journey usually entail.
朋友越來越多　但是寂寞並不因此而少一點
屋子裡如果沒有朋友來
就好像感覺自己孤伶伶的　站在十字路口一樣
窗外車水馬龍　我的朋友們
想必也在裡面穿梭不息吧
而生活又不情願只有一種感覺而已
上班　只是另一種舞台
平凡　但真實的

當然　寂寞並不代表空虛　
在某些時候　避免不了的寂寞
可以讓自己赤裸裸的面對自己
想一想我曾經獲得了甚麼？
失去了甚麼？正在追求甚麼？
而答案　往往是在朋友來了之後
在開懷暢敘之間　浮印得更清晰
而心情　也往往在朋友走了之後
才莫名的安定下來

大家都忙吧
連彼此真誠的相互關懷一下　也要抽個空
也許這就是我們共同的悲哀吧
朋友　真的希望　有空來坐坐

朋友你是否還寂寞
有甚麼傷心話還沒有說
請你有空來坐坐　來坐坐

朋友　明天要往哪走
我們都把作夢的時間　用的太久
沒有空執著　沒時間掌握

一杯紅茶　幾句實話　勝過那穿腸烈酒
歲月不曾改變甚麼　只能夠盡興的生活
朋友　煩惱是這麼多
我們　每個人都在承受請你
有空來坐坐　有空來坐坐

朋友　你是否還執著
有甚麼心事讓你不敢說
請你有空來坐坐　來坐坐

朋友　明天要往哪走
我們都把作夢的時間　用的太久
沒有空執著　沒時間掌握

一杯紅茶　幾句實話　勝過那穿腸烈酒
歲月不曾改變甚麼　只能夠盡興的生活
朋友　夢想是這麼多
我們　每個人都在追求
請你　有空來坐坐　有空來坐坐

Enough said. I like to borrow James Frey's A Million Little Pieces to sum it up. The perspective of how things look through different colored lenses and how one person's reality may be another person's fairy tale. To me, it is "我曾經獲得了甚麼？失去了甚麼？正在追求甚麼?"

Oh...my love, my darling........

2009-07-13T21:57:00.006+08:00

This is not my imagination. It was actually from a close friend of mine. Interesting, outrageous, subtle but every inch of it paints a true picture.

(1) Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.
(2) Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.
(3) Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine.

(4) Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!
(5) Loud Sigh: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of nothing.)
(6) That's Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake. (7) Thanks: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say you're welcome. (I want to add in a clause here - This is true, unless she says 'Thanks a lot' - that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at all. DO NOT say 'you're welcome' . that will bring on a 'whatever').

(8) Whatever: Is a woman's way of saying F**K YOU!
(9) Don't worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking 'What's wrong?' For the woman's response refer to # 3.

But whatever woman you may choose to share your life, please do not forget what you have promised her. In case, you haven't caught the whole picture, perhaps a word or two from old Shakespeare will refresh some of your old promises.

Did my heart love till now?
Forswear it sight. For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night ==== "Romeo and Juliet"

Bring Your Own Bag

2009-07-05T21:30:00.014+08:00

The future of waste disposal has finally arrived. And it stinks. I asked myself this simple question, since when is Hong Kong so environmentally conscious? I am not so sure the general public is prepared to embrace the government calls to support the trend. I say this because many many years ago, my mum used to bring a bamboo basket to shop in the market. Everything included, you will find vegetables, fish and meat all in her Pandora’s basket. Yes, in those days people use to wrap everything with old newspaper. Now if you look back, people then have the notion of shaping a better world. You have a basket to be filled with the day’s food. You also have newspaper undergoing the ‘recycled’ phase, you read, and then you use it to wrap meat or fish. Sounds good, isn’t it? That was well before the damn western world invented PLASTIC.

And, as if without any of us noticing it, plastic inventories dominate the mummy’s market. Think about it, you have to use plastic for almost everything you do these days. And then, just when we got used to using plastic, the damn western world made another amazing discovery. Yes, plastic are non bio-degradable. Which in theory will still remain plastic, (ok, dirtier plastic) in the landfill sites.
What I don’t understand, and I always have this puzzling thoughts, is why Hong Kong has taken so long to react? I remember the supermarkets in UK were charging me 4 penny for each bag I used then. Then, meaning 20 years ago! And 4 pennies is roughly equivalent to 50 cents Hong Kong. Today the same charge will be applied come 7th July 2009. I am not so sure if 50 cents per plastic bag will deter anyone from using them. I certainly won’t. Not that I couldn’t care about the extra 50 cents, but more on the issues of how the community will react to just shopping bags. What about the plastic wrappings of foods? Aren’t they the same type of plastic? Aren’t they non bio-degradable as well? If you are going to push for something, you make sure you go for the limit. What’s the point of limiting to supermarkets when the next confectionary you encounter will have plastic wrappings for your daily breads!
What about our daily lunch-box? Are they bio-degradable? What about the many other forms of plastic? Polyethylene, polythene and polystyrene….you name them.

Start counting, one person per lunch box. Is this more or less than the number of shopping plastic bags?

Not forgetting Char Siu Fan plus soup as well!

When will we learn? Perhaps going back to the days where everything is reuseable seems a better idea, Mr. HK government.

You just cannot do one and forget about other main issues. It is what we call "Some days you get the rubbish, and some days the rubbish gets back to you!"

Double Life Girl - So Good Meh?

2009-06-20T19:22:00.014+08:00

There is something strange happening lately, and I can’t fully grasp the sensation. I don't know why, but it is happening. For, when it comes to movies or cinemas or whatever box you may care to call, people are really divided. There are those who hate it, and then there are those who really, really, really hate them. But, the most irksome type would be those who hate to pay for it but love to watch it on DVDs, errrr……pirated copies of course, my dear sister included.
I still cannot overcome the ‘surprise’ sensation when my dear niece shared her delight to a movie session with her mum. My sister, after years of patronizing pirated DVDs, can suddenly have this urge to visit the local cinema? Unbelievable! And to make the surprise even more surprising was the theme “Hannah Montana!” What on earth is a 40-ish woman doing within an audience of hardly 15 years old?? Personally, the only way I can survive that movie is subjecting myself into a good sleep, only to be awakened by the giggling and screams to the songs of Miley Cyrus aka Hannah and Taylor whatever-is-her-name. And only then will I pretend all this pain isn't all there.

I don’t get it…songs like Let’s Get Crazy (shouldn’t it be Let’s Get Lazy?) and Let’s Do This (and that?) can make the movie grossed so much….. Don’t people care about title of songs anymore? Titles like Let’s Get Crazy or Let’s Do This, is probably the last thing a sane person would bother to have it as a title. They simply don’t click, you know. But then again, I may be an extinct movie or song critic. How am I to know anything more than the golden oldies? Songs that I am familiar, and songs that definitely have an appropriate title. I thought “Tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree” is meaningful. People still tie yellow ribbons as a sign of home-coming, don’t they? I would have rhyme in synchrony if someone still plays “Knock Three Times” on the ceiling….(see songwriters then are so catchy, not on the door leh). And then “Puppy Love” would have us sung our hearts out for that ‘girl’. No? Then, you have never been through the sweetest years of your lives! And how about “Put Your Head On My Shoulder”, so ever a golden song; best for all occasion, mate. I guess I don’t have to elaborate the golden classics, they were songs that are definitely endearing and quite aptly titled, I must admit.
Enough said. Melody asked to come over my place later than usual this evening. She is going out with friends to watch Hannah Montana: The Movie……and yes, it opens today in Hong Kong. I am not invited to join her, or more appropriately she refuses to let her friends hear her father’s snore in the cinema! I am not sure this is the correct way to treat an old man especially when it is supposingly Father’s Day weekend.

Happy Father’s Day, and maybe I shall write a song at home, an absolutely stupid lyrics that goes something like ……I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping….and sweeping it shall be as always. How’s that, Nicole? Care to include this in one of your many songs…… like Paper Hearts? Or, should I say Let’s Go Lazy! Party on, dude.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, MELODY SAID.

So Unique, So Diverse, So Very Boleh

2009-06-10T23:49:00.012+08:00

Shakespeare once wrote that a rose by any other name smells as sweet. I think dung by any other name stinks as bad. This is the age of grave irony. If you want to make the headlines, wearing black is probably a good idea. Wearing Black, you say? There is probably no better guiding principle in life for citizen of Bolehland anymore, I suspect. Is this a bash from our ever no-nonsense totalitarian authority? Or is this a joke! You cannot wear black, and you cannot drink Kopi-O??? Adoi......
Aiyoyo, drink Kopi-O also cannot meh.
Like that how leh?

I read today’s news on our very own South China Morning Post in total amazement. It was news on people wearing black and drinking Kopi-O. It reads “Dressed in black, the colour of protest, and 200 activists sat at café tables quietly drinking coffee – black, of course. Bewildered, police stood outside and watched the coffee drinkers with interfering.” I can’t relate this bewildering news to my fellow Hongkongers here because on July 1st 2003, 500,000 of them took on the street all wearing BLACK. Nowhere in the history of Hong Kong is such insubordination displayed more explicitly. I suppose a picture paints a thousand words.

I am not a political observer or analyst but it is becoming a political dismal to read our very own police saying “We are monitoring the targeted outlets and if necessary will arrest any person wearing black as they approach the outlets.” Hello, it is only a small crowd lah, I am sure you have better roles to play in keeping the nation’s crime rate from spiraling uncontrollably.

I don’t know about you but come tomorrow I shall immersed myself in the comfort within the aroma of the sophisticated grandeur of good old Kopi-O. Errrrrh……black of course! Hello kawan, tak bleh buat gitu, nanti orang gelak kita orang macam kerbau... ah..mari mari, jom minum Kopi-O kau kau..........hehehehehe

Testament of Time

2009-06-05T13:45:00.006+08:00

Something for us to ponder…. 20 years on, the feeling is as strong as ever. I wonder what the implication would be if the same were to occur in my home country?

150,000 Hongkongers gathered at Victoria Park on 4th June 2009

a. First of all, you will never get a permit to host a gathering of that magnitude
b. We will have to deploy hundreds of PDRM personnel to keep the situation at bay
c. Multiple arrests will be imminent
d. We could be the only country where candle light vigil is a taboo

I rest my case. Although I never supported the cause of June 4th, I have to take my hat off for those who did, and more importantly to those who still remember the importance of this day. May those who perished on that memorable day find their long lasting peace. The world still remembers the brave youngsters who sacrificed themselves for a freer China. And may the whole world remembers the statement “All the things that happened in and around Tiananmen Square on June 4, 1989, didn’t happen” is just a politburo paraphrase.

Something Just Won’t Change

2009-06-04T22:22:00.013+08:00

I read somewhere, I can’t remember where and when, but here is how it goes…. “If we don’t change, we don’t grow. If we don’t grow, we aren’t really living.” I am not an advocate of change; I am one of those people (ok, I am a stubborn old donkey) who hate to change. And if I don’t change, I should not be growing and if I am not, I would not be sitting here writing down my latest nonsensical thoughts. So am I changing?

I have this humble thought when I witnessed the latest addition to my small township. Yes, we now have the latest of the series of hypermarkets, Tesco, in town. I don’t remember when but it would seem an eternity when the Brits left us for good, and now they are back. Not to govern us but to give my fellow town folks some stiff competition. Looking at the brighter side, all of us, in one way or another, want to change. I am not suggesting having a fat bank account, nor would I hint the idea of emigrating to a foreign land, or even harping for a leaner weight and get into a better shape. I am thinking along the lines of my fellow kampong folks re-discovering the convenience of free air-conditioning under the baking Malaysian sun. The sad side like it or not, is the imminent danger of big chains affecting the local businesses. Yes, the poor folks who still stood by and, in their shabby stores, providing or have been providing the much sought convenience of the past. Okay it is also equally true that the same poor folks may have, at some distance past, charged you a bomb over some peanuts stuff. That is another story for another time.
Everyone needs to change, sometimes. The problem is, as far as Kulaian is concern, we just don’t know how. I still remember our very first emporium, mini hypermarket, and there was much looting the very first day of business. While shopping in Tesco last weekend, I noticed small stuffs were packed under a magnetized container. Now, if that is not anti-theft, I really don’t know the hidden reason for it to be redundantly packed.

The fact is, I am afraid to say, change is hard. It's difficult to do well, and it's even harder to develop a lifestyle of change. Kulaian have the notoriety to drive contra flow despite being designated as “No Entry.” One of our town’s main artery roads was designated as no entry but after more than 20 years, you still, from time to time, confront on-coming traffic. I was entering Tesco when an apparent fellow resident tried to manoeuvre itself out but through the “No Entry” side. I guess over the years we have developed extreme caution and tolerance towards errant fellow drivers. However, that doesn’t preclude the idea of swearing silently over inconsiderate drivers, I must admit. I couldn’t help but smiled to myself, I haven’t really changed a bit, you know!

I suppose change is here, and change is happening whether we like it or not. As I write, I have to admit it is not about knowing the change; it's being ready for the change. It's not about having the right answers; it's about asking the right questions. But with the much monkey business happening around the country, I really wonder what wrong change has brought upon us!

I leave a thought here for us to digest. “How do we get from where we are, to where we want to be?” Here is the challenge, a Kopi-O from the kopitiam is $1 but it is $2.50 from Old Town Coffee and $7.86 from Starbucks! That is CHANGE, my friend. They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself. I am going for to my faithful kopitiam, you want to join me?