EARTH DAY, EVERY DAY

Last Sunday, 22 April was Earth Day 2007. It passed without any hoopla and with much apathy, in a truly typical Malaysian fashion.
I woke up that day expecting to find loads of thought-provoking editorials and earth-friendly articles in the pages of our newspapers. Again, I was greatly disappointed.
The silence from our leaders was also deafening – no quotes, no smart pesanan, no nothing.
Earth Day 2007 was of very little significance, I guess, when compared to let’s say, stories about which celebrities were being bomohed by which artistes, or the goings-on in Ijok.
Global warming – what’s that? Lambat lagi lah dia punya effect or impact, why worry?
OK. Perhaps it’s too much to ask our leaders to come up with a strong message on environmental protection and progress, especially when all their energy at this point seems to be channeled to that little Selangor constituency.
But the newspapers? I thought they could have done a bit more to educate the rakyat and their readers about what they could do, in their own little ways, to help preserve the planet for our children, their children and grandchildren.
Every little tip they publish would go a long way to help make every day the Earth Day.
In Sentul, the Myanmarese couple has been reunited with their children, I read from a small, single column article in a newspaper.
I bet it was a teary and emotional reunion, had the newspaper carried a picture. But hey, never mind, what’s important now is that parents and children are back together.
They have also asked to be left alone.
We’ll see.

ANOTHER CIRCUS, AT A SLEEPY HOLLOW
"Undi anda rahsia."
That was the slogan widely broadcast (and popularly understood) in the run-up to elections when I was growing up as a child.
I remember when my late father, my mother and those in my family old enough to vote went to cast their ballot, they would be greeted by smiles and nods of encouragement -- from people of opposing sides -- on the way to and at the voting centre.
Activities leading to the election day -- from the nomination process to campaign ceramahs to the voting day -- were also relatively incident-free. No shouting, no jeering, no insults, and certainly no objects thrown at each other.
Gone were those days.
Elections today -- even by-elections in the remotest of areas -- are a full-blown circus. Thousands of supporters, would-be voters and leaders would descend to the sleepy hollow armed with slogans, flags and placards, with verbal vocabularies to match.
And in the case of Ijok, they also came armed with drinking water bottles. And the FRU, with its water cannon truck, was there too to complete the picture.
Yup. Only in Boleh-Land.
In the meantime, the Yin saga circus is still playing in Sentul. The Myanmar couple is out on police bail, courtesy of Suhakam. I hope and pray that the Press would cease hounding (and torturing) them with speculations. Let the police complete their investigations. Focus on other issues to sell your papers.
No ideas? Set camp in Ijok for the next eight days or so. I'm sure the circus there will give enough fodder for weeks to come.

REUNIONS
This past weekend was a weekend of happy reunions, indeed.
The missing child Yin was reunited with his parents, at last, and the whole nation heaved a huge sigh of relief.
I got all choked up when I first heard the good news Saturday night. Tuhan Maha kaya, I thought. The prayers of Yin’s parents, and those of many others, had been answered. Alhamdulillah.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine how the parents must have felt, how they must have suffered during the 14-day ordeal.
When my twin godsons were Yin’s age, I took them shopping at a department store, and they decided to play hide and seek among the racks of clothes. I couldn’t find them for a couple of minutes, and I almost went crazy!
Now that Yin is back safe and sound, let’s not start passing judgment or making speculations about the Myanmarese couple who found and returned him to the arms of his parents.
Please let the authorities do their job. Let’s not allow this become another circus, although this morning I read the papers with a heavy heart that the couple’s neighbours were already bringing out the sandwiches.
And the photo ops for politicians and their wives are still in full swing.
Typical!
During the weekend, I was also “reunited” with Azrie and Edrie, my twin godsons. I had not seen them since December. We went shopping Saturday morning for shirts, shoes and pants. They are growing up so fast sometimes it’s almost hard to believe that they are already 11 years old!
In the afternoon, together with my colleague Ju, we went to an orphanage to visit and have tea with our “adopted” children. It was a reunion of sort for Ju, who last saw her “daughter” in October. Me, I visited Amar, my “son”, only last month when he turned 15.
Anyway, tea with the kids was a sobering experience, even for the twins, who got along quite well with their 23 newfound brothers and sisters. In fact, Amar, largely regarded as the orphans’ eldest brother, asked me to bring the twins along again for my next visit. Insya Allah.
This afternoon, out of the blue, a long-lost friend I went to college with called. I had not heard from her in more than a decade, I think. So, we are planning for a reunion. Soon, I hope.
Tuhan Maha kaya.
“The supreme happiness in life is the conviction that we are loved.”
- Victor Hugo

STUPID PEOPLE MAKE GOOD BUSINESS
Stupid A receives a text message on her phone. The message says: "Congratulations from AF4 / PETRONAS / Kosmo! / Harian Metro etc! Your SIM card has won a RM5,000 / RM10,000 / RM20,000. Please call 0062&*&*&&#@ for more details."
Stupid A gets all excited and calls. The person on the other end of the line gives her a set of instructions, as well as an account number for her to transfer some fees before her cash prize is deposited into her own account.
Trusting with all her heart the person whose face she doesn't even see, Stupid A gladly follows the instructions, and waits with bated breath for her windfall.
Yup. Stupid A is stupid.
Stupid B gets an email from some exotic African country. The sender is a wife/daughter/son/niece/banker of some important dead person who left millions in some bank account not accessible to the kin or the banker.
If Stupid B is kind enough to help the sender access the money, Stupid B will receive a handsome reward, a nice fracture of the millions.
So Stupid B responds to the email, and is asked to deposit some processing fees, and waits for the handsome reward.
Yup. Stupid B is stupid, too.
Stupid C is notified through email that her email address is the main prize winner of a special lottery draw, and now a huge sum of money is waiting to be claimed. Stupid C responds to the email and is asked to do almost the same thing her cousin Stupid B was asked to do.
And, ditto.
Yup. Stupid C is also stupid. She is after all related to Stupid B.
One fine day, Stupid C's aunt walks to the market. Two guys, claiming to be clairvoyant, approach and offer her some magic stones that would heal her many ailments. As magic comes with an expensive price tag, auntie is persuaded by the two guys to go to her bank and withdraw money to pay for the stones.
Yup. Auntie is not very bright either.
At the other side of town, auntie's husband is sipping coffee at his favourite kopi tiam when he is offered some cards. "Yes, uncle. You scratch, you sure will win something. So scratch!"
A couple of hours later, the uncle scratches his head wondering what has happened.
Wait till he gets home to hear auntie's story.

DUMB, DUMBER, DUMBEST – PART III
When it comes to making stupid, asinine remarks, I would have to hand it down to our politicians.
The latest liability is the Deputy Energy, Water and Communications Minister, who in the spur of perhaps the dumbest moment of his life said that bloggers using Malaysia-hosted websites might now have to register with the authorities.
Aiyoh, stop embarrassing us already!
There have been enough unwise statements made by our so-called leaders lately on bloggers to make me want to go bury my head in the sand, for they reflect poorly on those in the government, and on those who put these clueless idiots there. And with my bum sticking out, I might just moon them at the same time.
Register? What, doesn’t the Deputy Minister understand how blogs work at all? You might be able impose this nonsense on Malaysia-hosted blogsites, but could you ensure Malaysian bloggers wouldn’t host their blogsites somewhere else? And why is this desperate need to control bloggers?
Datuk, get on the ship to cyberspace already! Take some of your counterparts with you.
And don’t come back.

LIFE, DEATH – PART III
At the end of an extremely trying day Wednesday, I was rewarded with an absolutely pleasant surprise, in the form of Ma June.
Yes, I bumped into Ma June – well, it was she who first saw me – at KLCC. She was just about to have dinner with her lovely, lovely family – her husband, two of her three sons and her daughter. My, how the children have grown!!
I had not seen Ma June and her adorable children, had not been to visit her, in ages. We keep in touch via SMSs (although the exchanges have been few and far between of late) and I do keep tab on her through her sister JJ, who gives me updates on Ma June once in a while when we run into each other in the building. I know both her and JJ went through a lot these past couple of years.
Anyway, Ma June looked her usual radiant self that night. She was all poise, grace and charm, as always. We swapped news, briefly – in fact, too briefly, because I did not want to disturb her meal. Yet, that brief encounter kept me thinking about her and her family all the way home that night.
Ma June is indeed a remarkable lady. I admire and respect her many qualities – her honesty, her humility, her generosity, her love, devotion and sacrifices for her loved ones and for those around her, her strength of character, her impeccable manners. And who would forget her delightful Nasi Kerabu Siam?
I texted her the following night: “Ma June, it really was an absolute delight seeing you and your lovely family last night. Everyone has grown so much! It’s been too long, kan? We have to do something about this. Take care. Jumpa lagi.”
She texted back, almost immediately: “It was sooo nice to see you, too. NST days seem like a lifetime ago because I’ve hardly kept in touch with anyone. We are all so busy. Must make efforts for a reunion, yes? Take care.”
Yes, we must make the efforts. We must. Life is too short.
Last night, while still feeling elated from my brief encounter with Ma June, I was shaken by a text message from D.
“C is not mobile anymore. At Kulim Hospital.”
I sat down and offered a short doa.

MY GREATEST FEAR
Some time ago a friend asked me what I feared the most in this whole wide world. My greatest fear, I told her then, was being misunderstood -- by peers, colleagues, friends, family, everyone.
As I grow older (and not necessarily wiser), friends and family become increasingly more important in relevance. They matter more to me than ever. Where I fit in their lives and who I am in their hearts is important to me.
Because family and friends are a key part of our identity, they partly define who we are.
And vice versa.
This comes with certain assumptions and expectations. You assume and expect your friends to know you, to understand you. Especially those to whom you really open up your heart, those with whom you share your life most, those in front of whom you can think aloud.
And you try to do the same with them. Because you simply have to. If they don’t understand you, who will? If no one understands you, who are you?
Reality check.
No one gets to really know and understand you. And you don’t get to really know and understand your friends.
No matter how close they are to you and you to them, there’s always a chance of you misunderstanding them, and them misunderstanding you.
And that, my friends, remains my greatest fear.

PREACHY PREACHY
There was a fine piece of advice from the country’s Number 2 carried by the local dailies last week.
You know, about how Malay entrepreneurs should remain focused even when they had made profits, and not succumb to what he termed as the “4Bs” – bungalow, boat, Benz and Beemer (that’s BMW for you).
Some entrepreneurs, he said, “stepped on the brakes” after they had obtained these status symbols, or they started paying more attention to their wives, even though they could go on to become the country’s next billionaire.
I insist that the sermon also be addressed to another group of audience closer to Number 2 -- the Malay politicians (although the line of distinction between the politicians and enterpreneurs is really blurry).
I'd say the Malay politicians should also not succumb to the 4Bs, which seem to be the first on their agenda after gaining office.
And their wives should not attract too much attention by altering their appearance, or by imposing to constantly be in the eyes of the public, dressed in all their finery.
The wives themselves should not be tempted by the 4Bs as well – Bvlgari, Birkin, Blahnik and Botox.
And the politicians, they should also avoid the other under-rated B.
Bullshit.

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