A good chunk and summary of the whole case can be found on the Nut Graph.

My personal take on it?

If this picture is true, and it seems to be, then I do agree that the MP in question, Teo Nie Ching, did commit a faux pas in entering the mosque. Her faux pas isn’t that she was a non-Muslim entering the prayer hall of a mosque, but that she did not demonstrate enough respect to the religion. i.e. I believe she should have worn at least a loose head covering, which she seems to have done so at a later function.

It’s unfortunate though, that a simple gesture as visiting the house of worship of another religion has been turned into a political issue. Make no mistake. I don’t see this as a religious issue at all, not when there are Muslim scholars, even within Malaysia, who see no wrong in a non-Muslim visiting a mosque if they have business to conduct with said Muslims. No, I do not mean scholars like Nik Aziz who does have a political stake in the outcome.

I’m talking about Selangor’s own mufti (a Muslim scholar who is, as Google tells me, also empowered to proscribe a fatwa or Islamic religious ruling) Mohd Tamyes Abdul Wahid who wrote a letter that stated,

“According to history, the Prophet (while he lived) in Medina did not repulse any visits by Jews or Christians who wanted to meet him even when he was in the mosque of Medina,” said Tamyes in the letter addressed to Jais’ chief assistant director in charge of mosques. They would come with a request, seeking justice (in a dispute) or for an administrative or other matter. It is understood from such incidents that there is no prohibition in Islam for meetings to be held within mosques other than the Masjid Al-Haram in blessed Makkah so long as they are held with good intentions.”

That view is also shared by former Perlis mufti Mohd Asri Zainal Abidin who believes there is nothing wrong with a non-Muslim visiting a mosque as long as it was with good intentions, also quoted in the same piece.

So, from my point of view, this is not a religious matter at all. This is a simple misunderstanding that has been blown out of proportions to make it look like a religious attack when it is none. I wonder, does this cancel the fasts of all those who claim that Teo is a dirty person thus for entering a mosque?

© Naoko Kensaku for Reach Into Your Soul, 2010. | Permalink | No comment | Filed under Opinions, Politics, Religion on 08-09-2010|

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Just found out one of my cousins is dying and my uncle is blaming himself for it. She’s got leukemia and my uncle blames himself for letting her come to KL for her studies cause it’s made it easy for her to hide the symptoms of her illness. Fuck fuck fuck! This is so bloody unfair. Why her? Why her, of all people?

Family was supposed to go for an outing this Raya but I think we are on standby. Sigh. Hang in there cousin. You still have so much life left to live!

© Naoko Kensaku for Reach Into Your Soul, 2010. | Permalink | No comment | Filed under Ramblings on 06-09-2010|

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Again, I paid without realising the price difference. The guy at the counter (whose name I forgot to get orz) looked at the money and then told me that the price was RM1.50. I said that it was stated on the bottle that it was RM1.10, not RM1.50. He took a look at the bottle, sighed, then looked towards the shelf. Then he told me to just pay the RM1.10 instead. He admitted that it was a labelling mistake, but he did not charge me for his mistake. I suspect that the guy who mislabelled the price is going to get an earful, but hey, I’m just glad the counter guy didn’t make me pay extra.

So take THAT, Giant!

© Naoko Kensaku for Reach Into Your Soul, 2010. | Permalink | One comment | Filed under Ramblings on 05-09-2010|

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

He could hear the breath of the wolves chasing him. Unlike normal wolves, they did not bark, nor did they howl as they chased him, saving all their breath for the run. He did not look behind, knowing they were behind him was more than an impetus for him to run. The dry branches cracked under his feet even as his breath misted in front of him. Cold wind assailed his face ashe broke free of the forest and began running across the fields.

The harvest had been taken in and thus there was little to impede his way. He was on more familiar ground here. Darting between the bales of hay stacked high, he slowed down just a fraction to make quick, calculated turns. With any luck, he would be across the river before the wolves caught up with him.

Or not, he thought as he came to a stop in front of a tall stack of hay. He was to have climbed up it and thus across the fence, but the shaggy man on top of the hay put paid to that ambition. The man looked down at him and then howled, a long blood-curdling call to his brethren. Other wolves answered him, and he soon found himself surrounded. They growled softly.

“Just a brat, come to steal from the master,” the man growled and then jumped down, coming very close to the boy.

There was a gunshot.

The man turned and snarled as a woman, even taller than him, came up. She wore a fedora and a long coat that reached past her knees. In her arms she carried a sawed-off shotgun, locked and loaded for a second shot. The boy knew he was in for it.

“Let him go, Thomas,” she stood a safe distance away, her eyes on the man and her finger on the trigger.

“He stole from my master!” Thomas, the shaggy man, said.

“Lucas, give the man back what you stole,” the woman’s voice brooked no argument.

Lucas obeyed, removing the thin pack he had carried. He put it down on the ground, making sure to keep it between him and the shaggy man. Thomas growled.

“Now get off my lands, your wolves are scaring my horses,” the woman gestured. Thomas obeyed, but his eyes promised a cold vengeance to Lucas, who simply stood there, shaking in his boots.

“C’mere, Lucas,” the boy obediently went to the woman as they watched the man and the wolves skulk away. She did not move nor take her eyes off the forests until shadows on the ground had lengthened quite a bit, then she startled Lucas by smacking the back of his head.

“Just what the hell were you thinking, boy? That was a completely foolish thing to do! What use are you if you go and get yourself killed for your thieving rush? Tell me!” she didn’t actually give him a chance to speak, instead twisting his ears and making him walk home in that state, with a tirade loud enough to carry down the road, where the neighbours merely shook their head in amusement.

“Are you alright?” the woman’s sister got up quickly from her seat by the hearth, as Lucas was shoved through the door.

“Barely,” was the reply, before the door was bolted.

“I’ll get the carriage,” a child’s voice piped up.

“Stay still, Griselda,” the woman put the shotgun on the table while her sister took out a box to tend to Lucas’ ear.

“Sister?”

The woman did not reply, but instead went silent, trying to hear for something. Her sister reached into her apron for a weapon, while Lucas and Griselda went rigid. When the woman was like that, no one moved.

“They’re coming back,” she whispered.

“How far away?”

“They’ll be here before the carriage is done. Horses, now!” the woman grabbed her shot gun and a bag by the door, while her sister grabbed a pack by the hearth.

The two children ran out through the back, where the horses were. The horses were already saddled, but they needed to be unleashed. It was the duty of the children to do that. As they led the horses to the road, they heard the pot crashing to the floor and flames beginning to lick the flames of the house. A moment later, the two sisters came out of the house at a run and jumped easily onto the saddles. Each of them also grabbed a child and settled them on the horse before taking off in a full gallop. They left the burning house behind them.

© Naoko Kensaku for Reach Into Your Soul, 2010. | Permalink | No comment | Filed under Shorts/Drabbles on 04-09-2010|

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Among a number of South East Asian countries, there is a belief that sacrifices must be made before large, mega-construction projects are begun. These sacrifices are not the “slay a bull and say a prayer to the Gods according to your religions” kind of rituals. No, they are much, much more darker. They have their origins in the days when humans were finally beginning to understand the world around them, when shamans still ruled.

These sacrifices involved (depending on the version you hear) just the heads of your enemies or the innocent, or burying others alive. Still some say that the bones of the dead must be mixed with the cement. Which is it? I do not know. All I know is that the tales I’m about to relate take place over various parts of Peninsular Malaysia.

(...)
Read the rest of Ghost Stories for the Unintended (979 words)

© Naoko Kensaku for Reach Into Your Soul, 2010. | Permalink | One comment | Filed under Ramblings, Violent/Gore/Horror on 03-09-2010|

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Kekecohan
Di jalanan, mahupun di kampung
Di bandar dan di rumah
Semuanya gemuruh

Dalam kegelapan ini
Teringat suatu peribahasa
Di mana bayangnya, di situlah cahaya

Dengan cahaya wujudlah gelapan
Dalam sinaran adalah bayangnya
Untuk setiap yang inginkan kemusnahan
Wujudlah lebih ramai yang inginkan keamanan

Negaraku bukannya yang termoden
Negaraku mungkin terlalu runsing
Tapi yang adanya macha
Tiada warna, tiada sempadan

Mereka yang mementingkan diri
Terlalu inginkan kuasa dan wang
Sehingganya negara yang menjadi mangsa
Rakyatnya yang merana

Dalam bayangan wujudlah cahaya
Dalam runsingan wujudnya jawapan
Dalam kegelapan adalah harapan
Dalam rakyat adalah pendirian

Kepada mereka yang inginkan kemusnahan
Kepada mereka yang inginkan kuasa
Baliklah, iblis, ke nerakamu
Tinggalkan negaraku Malaysia sekarang!

Ditulis sempena Kemerdekaan Malaysia ke 53 dan Hari Malaysia ke 47. Inspired by a quote from the Mothership, “who would like to remind you that in this ever present darkness, there’s always someone nearby with a light. And if you’re willing, you can be that light.”

© Naoko Kensaku for Reach Into Your Soul, 2010. | Permalink | No comment | Filed under Governance, Poetry, Politics, Religion on 31-08-2010|

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Dreamt I was flying off to the US for some assignment or other. Dates were 5 Dec to 10 Dec 2010 I think, or was it 1 Dec? I was supposed to be away for 5 days, and I was thinking “Well, that RM50 in my wallet out to last me nicely.” I didn’t change my money, but I knew that I was on the verge of being broke.

Then before I got sent off, I was waiting for an old friend to show up. He was supposed to be accompanying me to the States. In the end, I checked in with his check-in luggage without him. Then I went to a hotel with some of my close CF friends to wait the time to pass before the plane took off. We ended up walking in the rain with this random newspaper guy giving out free umbrellas to those caught in the rain; he seemed to have utmost confidence that people would return his umbrellas.

Once we were in the hotel, nearly everyone went up first before I did. As I was getting ready to go up, I met one of my old Cosmotot kids. She said she had been waiting for me since 12pm to send me off to the US. At this point, my mind supplied that I was still working with Cosmotots. I then had to rush up the lift or something, so I couldn’t say much to her.

The lift was this antique thing with an Apple iPod touch (square version) for its floor selectors. I was stumped. The old guy who was with me in the lift then showed me how to work the stupid thing, and I wondered what kind of an idiot would incorporate such an easily cracked app into a lift.

I got out on my floor and was immediately distracted by Mika. She took me back down again because she wanted to get a cake for Neko. It was something along the lines of, “We make Neko remember events by covering her entire body with the scent of the day,” or something like that. I suggested we use the excuse that I needed to get my charger back as the reason for us getting cake.

Then I woke up. Hmm… thought that popped up while I was writing the above. “Did I just peeked into my alternate dimension’s hectic day today?”

© Naoko Kensaku for Reach Into Your Soul, 2010. | Permalink | No comment | Filed under Dreams on 30-08-2010|

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Me: Needs more boobs. And hips (in reference to Kristin Kruek’s lack of assets).

Bro: She’s too flat.

Me: Even the older actress from [insert series] would have been better.

Mom: *who has no knowledge of Street Fighter AT ALL* Zhang Ziyi would be better. She would have looked more professional and suited for the role.

Bro and me: LOLOLOLOLOLOL

© Naoko Kensaku for Reach Into Your Soul, 2010. | Permalink | One comment | Filed under Family, Ramblings on 29-08-2010|

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Lyrics below the cut.(...)
Read the rest of Angela Aki: Every Woman’s Song (228 words)

© Naoko Kensaku for Reach Into Your Soul, 2010. | Permalink | One comment | Filed under Song/ Lyrics on 29-08-2010|

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

For me, music is indistinguishable from words. While others hear noise I see the words taking form, taking shape, in my mind. Calvin once asked me if I could taste words or if I could see colours in numbers. I told him then that I didn’t think it was so. Now, perhaps, maybe it’s not quite completely true.

Instead, I associate music with words. With motions and other visual effects. The sense of sound elicits, whether I want to or not, an automatic and involuntary response. It’s one of the reasons why large or sudden noises rarely frighten me; I take almost a second to respond to them (this does not apply to noises + touch, I always squeal at those so if you do that you’re getting a punch in the gut ^_^). Large noises instead often take the form of a word first in my mind, thereby removing its fear.

Sudden noises prime my body for action, but it rarely does anything. Instead, it’s like a signal to my mind, to STOP THERE’S SOMETHING HAPPENING HERE, INVESTIGATE MODE ON! Instead of running away, I almost, always look for the source of the sound. As sound itself is then condensed to words for me, then associated to certain actions, I am quite capable of ignoring what’s happening around me if I want to.

Which is why I travel almost everywhere with my mp3 player, more so than my notebook. Music chases away the demons, brings me to unexpected journeys, releases stress. It is the closest sense I have to seen words made into reality, that words do not exist merely in my mind, but they are tangible objects, tangible concepts that I can actually interact with.

That’s enough pretentiousness for one day.

© Naoko Kensaku for Reach Into Your Soul, 2010. | Permalink | 2 comments | Filed under Ramblings on 26-08-2010|

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh