Ode

We never spoke much. We were always busy with things. I was always busy with things. We didn't get along that well for that matter. I was your second child. Your first was obedient and filial, at that age anyway. He was the doted the most by everyone. But I know you loved me more, despite that you always tell us that you love us both the same. He always had the best things. Clothes, shoes, birthday parties from everyone. He was the first born of the family and what more male. His standing was and will always be greater than mine. What I had was always from you. I know you loved me and still do. I just wished I had told you that more than the times that I did when you were here.

I miss you terribly. I miss you so so much. I wish I could just hug and kiss you like good sons would do on amercian tv. I know you'd like it. Yen Yen, Sven, Olivia and Candice did that all the time. Jeff said nice things to you. I never was the son you wanted me to be did I? Never went to school, got the scholarship but didn't follow through my first year, didn't want to further my studies, didn't want to get into the family business like everyone did. I knew it hurt you that I travelled as much as I did. I know you missed me too when I wouldn't come back for close to a year. I know... I know... But as a good son I gave you what I could then, or rather what I thought you wanted, which was in fact what I wanted you to have. You've suffered so much. I thought money and material comfort would make you happy. I thought driving you around in my brand new Camry, with you seated at the back although there was only the both of us would somehow make you feel special. Bringing you to fancy restaurants and buying designer labels for you, which you kept wrapped in clear plastic and never wore, would make you feel important. Maybe for a minute it did.

You had a hard time when you married him. He was a loud-mouth drunk who'd beat you up when he lost at the races or when he felt like it. I grew up fast and strong so that I could protect you. I hit him hard just the way he hit you. For every bruise he gave you, I gave him two. But did I do enough? Did I stop the bleeding inside as I grew older? As I became more "worldly"? As I became more arrogant and disrespectful? I knew you never stopped loving me. I also knew you wished I had evolve like a regular person, without so much aggression and passion. I could tell it was getting to you. The girls I brought home did not register well with you. And you made it very clearly known to everyone. That was you. The funny and weird side of you. Nice and gentle as you are, I know you always wanted me to marry a muslim girl. You could never ask that of any of your sons, but you somehow knew I would come through for you. You just knew. I can see you smiling now... wherever you are...

She's right for me, I'm sure you'd agree. She's pretty, gentle and one thing that the both of you have in common: She doesn't know how to handle me. I'm sure you'll love her. I'm sure. I'm certain you both would have much to talk about. I'm sure. I know you'll love her as your own, for afterall, I am your favourite son.

You could never out-talk me. But you could always out-smart me. You were the only one I would listen and give in to among everyone. And somehow, you never really fought as hard as you did for what you wanted from me because you knew I would give in to you. And you knew it irritated the hell out of me too. But you did it anyway. You knew... you always somehow knew...

I do wish that I could speak to you now. I'm causing her as much pain and hurt that I've caused you. I really do not know what to do now. Why can't you just be here when I needed you? Why can't you slap, cane or hit me while I was younger? Why didn't teach me more instead of letting him bring me out for my first drink and cigi? I wished I was as homely as I am now. I really wish. I wish I wasn't the one who'd get into trouble all the time. I wished I didn't get into fights as often as I did. There are so many things that I wish for.. so so many...

As I am approaching 32 now, I realise how much I should've said what I should've said. My days are not for much longer. And probably I would join you soon. I miss you so so much mommy. I really do. I want to love you the way a son should love his mother. You've always been my hero. I could always depend on you. You were always there when I needed someone to just be there physically. You were... Sorry for causing you all those hurt, pain and sorrow. Forgive me mommy. I love you...

jahwsl
0106
12 Oct 06'

Balls to the walls

Why can't I just be the person that I am? Why does it seem that everyone is looking to change who I am? I am Amir Hamzah! I am the protector of my peoples and the flag bearer of my tribe. I charge into battle to slay my enemy who's determination is to kill me and eat my beating heart. But I give quarters to prisoners who surrender themselves because I strongly believe everyone deserves a second or even three chances. Failure is acceptable.

My motivation in life is to be the best that I can be. I do trample along the way, but I also recognise to play the game well. Granted, I've been lucky enough to be spared from much office politics (I just don't give a shit), I still experience it somehow. Working in one of the largest MNCs in the world has plenty of that.

Me taking matters into my own hands by verbally abusing others is wrong, or so it has been told to me. Don't I need to protect myself? I need to focus when I pray don't I? I don't need any religious authority to guard me or protect me, I hold my own pretty well thank you. I do not need to cry to teacher saying that I have been pushed. Well... I push back! But when I retaliate, do not come crying to me, after all, it was you who had the sense to push me in the first place. I do not enter the mosque so that I can please you. You mean nothing to me. It is Allah Whom I worship.

All right... my actions do not seem befitting of a muslim. It's all right. The fuck I care. I'm still learning mah! If you don't like to read this, place your cursor on the top right corner of the screen and left click. For those of you who are still engaging, thank you for your patience.

During the holy month of Ramadan, a muslim is severely tested, or so it seems. I've been. And today, I've been told that I am a muslim by choice. Weird feeling. The first time it's been said in my face. Bitter sweet after taste, that. Anyway, of course the people I've been tormenting are the ones suffering.Or are they? I know Su suffers. We always have fights about this. She doesn't want me to pick a fight with anyone, but yet she knows that I would only fight back if I am provoked. Now... be true to myself or to sail to her desires. I wish it was an easy decision to make. It isn't.

Being aggressive is not my definately not my definitive or identifying trademark. I would like to think it would be million dollar smile or my lovely brown eyes. Ok, not those either. I do not pick a fight with everyone I meet. In fact, I enjoy fun,laughter, peace & joy as much as the next person. I really do. My sense of humor rivals that of Jerry Seinfield or well... sometimes, Benny Hill (may Allah bless his soul). Now you see the combination ah... I am only aggressive with focused objectives and target that I have set for myself. I aim high... Unlike a regular gangster, I do not do it for the money or glory or fame or the "Karaoke Girls" (in the true words of Shashi - "Like macam taxi run over"). Nope... no sleaze for me. I'm muslim.

Asking me to be patient when I encounter the devil in his many forms - Mr. Ass Wipe, Guy in a Tie in DA, Old man in purple in Darul Aman - is like asking someone to slap my face, and asking for seconds... Wait!!! Wait one fucking minute!!! Isn't this what Islam is all about? Not face slapping... Forgiving... ah... KNN... nearly forgot... Fucking good muslim I am ah. Nah beh chicken...

Why do I need to forgive? Because Allah says so dumb fuck! Judge not, lest ye wishes to be judged. Ok... know what? You fucks can have a rally time with me. You can call me insincere (ya you Ass Wipe), you can attempt to push me (you too Guy in a tie aka the soles of my feet looks better than you) and who can forget fucking old man.. yes you.. half dead drenched in purple-puny-fucked-ass sorry-son-of-a-bitch-whose-best-excuse-for-living-ended-up-as-a-brown-stain-on-your-
momma's-matteress.

You can all take your shots at me. I'll be so fucking god damm patient you can all come together. After all, you cowards need a big strong group to tackle a convert who's brave enough to take a walk on the dark side right? 3 cowards don't match one hero (wah! Now I become hero! I like!!!). Come on! Bring it on!!! I like it when the odds are against me! BRING IT ON!!! I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU!!! MOTHER FUCKING COCK SUCKING SONS OF MOTHERLESS GOATS!

Whew... that was a mouthful! Typing it is even harder than saying it! But it's been an eye-opening experience. Take all the blows at me that you want you fucking "chinese converts hating born muslims" (not all ah... anyway... almost all of you are nice what... only applicable to those who aren't). Uncle Amir'll show you what a real man is made of! *It is said, sometimes it takes more of a man to walk away, then to stay and fight*

Wassalam to all....

jahwsl
1130
12 Oct 06'

Mutton Curry? Mutton Rendang?

I finally found the cure to stop pesky born muslims from getting to me. Tell them off in a raised voice (it's better if you're in a crowded environment), and put them down. The one single line that works best for me, when they all back off is "Just because I'm out-numbered by your people, you think I'm afraid of you? You people don't scare me!". Of course this has nothing to do with race, but in most cases, people would just back off. And I like it that way. If you've nothing good to say, if you're not encouraging, just back off.

I don't feel proud putting the guy in a tie down in front of his son in the musollah, and neither do I feel great that I did the same thing to the old fuck in Darul Aman. The funny thing about these people is, the moment I fight back, they back off. You cock-sucking fuckers have the guts to tell me off but no guts to challenge me when I raise my voice? Scardy cats. But know what? I'm still out-numbered by your race. All you have to do is get the Imam to officially throw me out. Write me a note why I shouldn't defend myself (after all, I AM AMIR HAMZAH!), & I'll go to the next one that will welcome me warmly. You peep squeaks never scare me... The guy in the tie, like it when I put you down in front of your son? I challenge you to tell me nicely, afterall, I am a convert (and we were in the converts association). You think you're so smart cos you dress well (cos you're an ugly fuck anyway).

I have no qualms saying "fuck" anywhere. I've been brought up in an environment where I need to fight for almost anything and everything I want. I thought religion was different. Truth is, I've got to fight harder. Most born muslims are all right. They are nice, pleasant and welcoming with lots of nice words of encouragement. Unfortunately, I do have the luck of meeting those whom aren't. The tie guy could've walked in front of me. Instead he shoved me and told me off. Well... I can shout as loud as the guy beside me. Since you wanna act tough and smart, I'll act tough and smart with you too. The problem with him, Mr. AW & the old man at Darul Aman is, they all have the guts and audicity to tell me off, but none will defend themselves when I raise my voice. In a predominant malay environment, what is there to be afraid of? Since by telling me off, I am sure they know that they are in some knowledge that I am lacking of. So why worry when I raise my voice? Why not tell me what is? Why look down and hurry along their little gutless asses? Am I missing something? Of course I am! I've never been put in an environment of fools who think they own a public place. And best of all, no fucking sense to say "sorry" when they're in the wrong. Old man, you can die for all I care. Go act pious and dress in the religious garb that you wear. Purple looks good on you. But if you can't hold your own, don't even come close to me.

But it's also unfortunate that I also realised something else. To those people who tell me off for something that I may be doing wrong, you can do it nicely. Many have done so to me, and I have learnt not to commit the same mistakes. Telling me off in a "I know better that art" will earn you verbal abuses in front of everyone. I don' care if I lose my "rewards". I pray for Allah, not for you ass-wipes. Get that straight. Go fuck your own mother. You're probably sick in that way.

Dear Allah, thank You for giving me continued patience against these mother-fucking sons of bitches. I am grateful. Please give them the strength to carry on with their lives thinking they are as great as You. Give them the courage to tell every covert who has no qualms hurling verbal abuses to them through their inconsiderate and belligerent actions. I ask that You grant me strength to fight off these nay-sayers for wanting to believe in You for wanting to sincerely praise you is a battle that I have to face everyday against these creatures of satan. Grant me the heart to love You more and more each day as with every ass-wipe I fight off, I sincerely can feel Your love covering me. I ask also that You bless the rest of us reading this that persecution did not only exist in the time of Your early disicples, it still exists today, especially against converts who think we all worship You. I praise You and I ask that You watch over each of us. Amin.

jahwsl
1235
11 Oct 06'

Mee Soto? Mee Rebus? Or Mee?

I've been going "Commando" for the past couple of weeks. From the time Su said it was all right not to wear undies (I don't wear briefs, I only wear my comfy boxers) for prayers, as long as I cover my belly and knees. Ok... you said it! SInce that day, the frequency of rotating my undies have dropped to less than 3 a week. Kind of reminds me of the time we were training in Brunei. Not because I liked it, but because I forgot to bring an extra one. And I was fed up of rotating the front to the back every couple of days (yup... was as dirty as you can imagine. And no... the army doesn't provide you with showers... all the time) and changing them with my buddy. Forgot how it felt. But now... I love going "Commando"! Yeah!!!

Today we decided to go kampung Siglap mosque to break fast (yes... I made it through another day... thank you for your prayers...) Did not decide by then whether to continue with Teraweh or just go to Bedok to have some mee rebus and mee soto (I usually have both - eating with me is not for the faint-hearted). Thought it'd be a better idea to just talk about it again when we met after mahgrib. On the way there, I was telling myself how I wish Pak Ali (the nice gentleman who was very happy to see me the first time I was there) would be there. He did say he's there every night, but somehow there's always a possibility that things may crop up. Man plans, but God decides.

Su & I sat outside the main prayer hall. And guess who decided to turn up? Mr. Ass Wipe!!! Wahaha! I pointed him out to her. He did a good job of avoiding me. Never even looked in my direction. Good thing, cos the Imam was there collecting zakat & I was sure as hell willing to confront. Playing the fool with me is like playing craps. You roll the dice and you take your chances. The thing about me is I am never afraid of creating a scene. I can raise my voice as loud as I like and never feel embaressed about it. That's me. Bring it on dude!

About half and hour to prayer time, both of us went in the prayer hall. And guess who called me?! Mr. Ali! I was so so happy!!! We talked and talked like long lost friends newly found! He even reserved a seat for me to eat beside him! Where can you find such a buddy like that???!!! I am truly humbled and touched by his sincerity. He was telling me how much improvement I made. Ok, this hit me as hard as it is hitting you I guess. How could he know? After all, the last time we met was last week! His theory: "The first time I saw you, you go straight for the rice. I offer you dates, you don't even want. Finish all the food and want some more. Today, you eat just enough and eat dates also. See? You improve what! Ahamduilah!" OMG!!! This guy is so encouraging!

When it was time for dusk prayer, guess what? Pak Ali pulled me and said: "See! Your friend is here also!!!" It was the rolly polly man whom we all shared our plate of food the first time I was there! Wow!!! The best break fast session I ever had!!! Truly! And Su managed to catch them from upstairs. Bet not many people have as much fun as me right!!!

And guess what somemore???!!! I was stood beside Ass Wipe for prayers!Wah lau eh!!! KNN!!! I am so so so lucky today!!! He shoke the hand of the guy on his right. When he extended his hand to me to shake, I think I scared him off! Being the gentleman that I was, I shook it, and gave him a "Fuck you Ass Wipe" stare (he didn't realise it was me to begin with). After prayers ended (before the part where we can all sit crossed-legged), he left the line. When the full prayers ended, he was sitting behind chanting on his beads. Ass Wipe! Dare to judge me but run at the crack of my whip?! Good boy. Stay there.

Although I did agree to meet Su outside right after duck prayers, I somehow ended up talking to Pak Ali. The conversation was interesting. Mostly me wanting to find out how he controls his temper during the fasting month. He reads alot of Dale Carnegie. Kidding me! I went for the 3 day company sponsored course that costs > $1,500 and I learnt nothing except to shout very loudly "I can do it!" & punch air (didn't know you could punch air so hard). His threshold for tolerance is not high, but his discipline is. Never saw it from that way. Offered to look after my lappie when I went out to see Su. Decided (I have been using a lot of the word "decide" haven't I?) to take a step where I have never gone before. Teraweh. Ok... balls to the walls gentlemen. This is the real deal. But fortunately for me, instead of 23 (or is it 22), today's session was 8. There's a visiting teacher who was invited to give a talk, and well... my discounted session. Whew...

I got to be honest. It's really boring. The prayers are long and ALL of the time, except when I say Amin, I have no idea what is being said. That's all well and fine. Just don't expect anything from me.

I'll let you in on a little secret. It hit me like a sledgehammer while I was talking to Pak Ali. Know how I say I never believe in collecting points or rewards? Well.. I still don't. But ironically, Pak Ali told me something that stuck that many people tried telling me without any success. Allah is forgiving. He's not the type who'll pin you to the things you did or the things you said. In short, He's not like me. He's greater (ok, we all figured that out already). HE FORGIVES!!! ME INCLUDED!!! AHAMDUILILAH!!! I felt so cleansed today. I feel special. The feeling of peace & calm filled me tonight. I bless and thank God for His mercy. I don't care about Ass Wipe. That mother fucker's day will come. All I know now is that I am forgiven. No matter how many times I fall or sin, I AM FORGIVEN!!! But I would like to see that no matter how hard I try to force things, be it His will on not, I am forgiven (I don't sin - I am as perfect as they come).

In business and in life, I never look to Him for help when I need it. I tell myself that I should do it myself. After all, I create it, and therefore I must clean it up. It is only in good times that I spend more time in church (then) and pray more. For whatever I have is given by His grace. I have been greatly humbled today. I have been absolved (even if it's not true, I felt it - so it's gotta be true!) from my ignorance and arrogance. I have truly been blessed.

Dear Allah, I thank you from the bottom of my shallow heart for the love you have shown me. You have shown me Your divine will by placing Pak Ali in my circle of friends. I thank you with all my heart. I thank you for giving Su the patience to bear with my nonsense and arrogance. Till tonight, I thought I know all I needed to know. You have blessed me with the wisdom to see my stupidity (make me smarter from now all right? Please? Please?). Su, among other people have been giving me lessons on the importance of gathering Your rewards. I now see it as rewards for Your divine forgiveness. I ask that you bless each and everyone who has prayed for me, including Pak Ali (even if he does not pray as hard for me, please bless him and his family for he has shown me Your insight - bless him and all of us many many, please). Grant me the wisdom to seek knowledge, the charity to forgive, the strength to follow the path of the Prophet swt (just dont' make me like dates too much), the courage to fight off my enemies and all the virtues of a true muslim. You know best Allah, being a muslim is easy. Say a few words, sign on the dotted line and slice of the fore-skin. Being a GOOD muslim is way more than that. I do not have that long a fore-skin, so I ask for all things other than that, which is needed for me to excel... and show all these born-muslims what it takes! You are great as You are infinite. I love you. *Muah*

p.s. please give me the strength to make my fast 1 week straight ok???!!! Please lah... Su promised me a pweasent!!! AND WE ALL KNOW HOW I LOVE PWEASENTS!!!

jahwsl
1244
10 Oct 06'

Mutton Soup

Salam to my dearest fearless warrior ....

In your life of 32 years, you fought long and hard.
Bloodless battles of wits and tenacity, you triumphed.

Life has been complex and difficult but against that.
you won! You work hard in creating your OWN Destiny,
not believing what Fate has planned for you.

I marvel at you for your strength and endurance.  I
long realise that you work for others not for
yourself.  You are selfless like that and I have never
seen such a person before.

Last night, you have proven yourself that you do
anything and everything for me. I know you dread
making that promise to have dinner with my mum and I.
It is totally out of your way.

I know you tried your best to negotiate your way out
of it, but again I think I said " But you ask me what
I wanted what? " LOL.. me and my big mouth!

Dear.. I do understand the pain you went through
eventhough you never said it loud enough for me to
hear it.

Thank you for everything. Thank you for being there
for me eventhough i tried pushing you away, coz it
wasnt your problem.

Thank you for carrying my bag eventhough I told you I
didnt like guys carrying their girlfriends' bags.

Thank you for brushing my forehead when i lay on your
lap as those hands are so warm and loving.

No matter how difficult for me to understand you, it
has never been easy for you to understand me too

Allah destined us to meet and work in this
relationship.  Fate lies ahead of us.

You are the love of my life. A life together with you
is the destination and journey i want to take.


laughs and love,
Suraya

( PS : yes, u can blog about our introduction and how
we first met. )

************************************************************************************

Ok, permission has been granted from Houston. I expect this to be a longer than usual entry. So if you guys are really interested, then better... sorry... suddenly have nothing intelligent to say. Bear with me, for this is the start of our story...

I met Su through an online dating site. Saw her picture and thought that this girl could make me look good. Contacted her, and was surprised to find that she responded almost immediately. I knew she was Malay/Muslim. But me joining the site was really for the purpose of making new friends (ok, for all you disbelievers out there - you can suck on a cucumber. I'll gladly buy one for you).

We spoke at length on MSN. I learnt much about her life and the things she did - guess most of you who know her are already aware of her wide travels and work experiences. I was impressed. Never have I met someone who travels as widely and extensively as me! And a girlie somemore! I wanted to meet this chick as soon as I can. On msn, she did tell me she'd want to meet up with me too, except that she was going on holiday with her mother. But as soon as she got back, we'd planned to meet. But our friend lost my cell phone number... Have a look at what she email me:

"cHAO jEREMY!!!

You dont need balls to travel and work in countries that I have been to. U just need some curiousity traits enough to kill a cat!! hehehe

I do enjoy talking to u too and I m sure that i will enjoy meetinng you in person.

But unfortunately, i lost your handphone no.!!!

Do call or sms me at 96287260 when u receive this email!

I hope u get to call me before I fly to Bkk.

hear from you soon!

Suraya"

I remembered exactly how she sounded the first time I called her. Full of laughter! I looked forward to her return...

I was working in and about Tuas then, and she needed to be in Bukit Gombak (I didn't know the condition of her father then. Never heard of Parkinson's Disease before that day) on the day of our first date. All right.. I wasn't as innocent. I pushed hard for the date. She was as irritated as hell that day with me calling her cell phone every 2 - 3 minutes. We agreed to meet on the platform of Bukit Gombak MRT Station.

I saw this girl with messy hair, wearing a bright tie-dye tee and jeans. One thing about this girl was she REFUSED to let me check out her butt! I remember telling her she has a nice butt! Haha... but I knew I was being plain irritating. We took the train to Raffles Place, then made our way to Lau Pa Sat.

There, I had a bowl of mutton soup - chinese aka non halal. I only realised that when I placed the food in front of her and asked if she wanted some. Fuck me!!! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!Whacked it as fast as I could. Then suggested we move over to somewhere nearer to the desert stall. She gave the "huh? why can't we just sit here" look. Well... I like being near the desert stall because I seldom order one type! We moved. She still found me odd. Even till today.

Between us, we had 3 bowls of desert. And she was nice enough to bring me something from Bangkok. A bag of sweets, candy... those chewy thingys - in a barf bag (air sickness bag). Now that's thoughtful. I always appreciate a gal who knows who to make a man happy. We talked till about 1130pm. I usually left home for work at 530am (I used to stay in Sengkang, and the journey to Tuas took more than an hour and a half. I never like being in the office later than 7am).We parted and I remember thinking to myself what a wonderful person she was. Our conversations centered on our travels and work. I've not met someone who's as mobile as her, girl or guy. In fact, most guys I know are pussy-headed when it comes time to pack up and leave their comfort zone to another 3rd world country.

Later that night, we continued to speak on the phone till about 1 am. Gosh... I was already feeling special by then. And I wanted to see her again!

The next time we met was kinda funny. I was feeling depressed. It was CNY eve and I had no where to go. My landlord and his wife made dinner and we spoke for a bit. By 8pm, I needed to get out of the house badly. I texted Su, telling her I was feeling down and badly wanted to go out. She was at an engagement dinner or something and could only meet me past 10pm. Set!!! We'll go to Chinatown to grabs the sights and sounds since I've not been there for years and it would be her first time! We both agreed to meet at NEL Dobhy Ghaut Station.

She was wearing a white top and bright red pants. I recognised it as the Vietnamese National Dress. Pretty. Like the Singapore flag. Got on the next train to Chinatown. Crowded. But we still managed to hear each other above the din! When we got there, it was crowded. We both were enjoying it so far. I suggested that we hold hands, because the crowd was pushing us in and about. Smart alec I am! We held hands and never let go, even after we left Chinatown after 1am. And that was where we also discovered the great ice-kachang place in the food center!

Decided to go to Lau Pa Sat for a night-cap. Spoke till 4am. I sent her back in a cab. We were still holding hands.

Weirdly enough, we decided to meet again the next day! In the afternoon. Both of us woke up late and both if us had no plans... so GHANDI HERE WE COME!!! Had a great lunch with free flow of rice, papadums and water. Sendrik then called. He was with his wife. They're both new PRs, so they were discovering Singapore. We decided to meet at Mustafa. Talked and shopped.

In the evening, we were in Kampung Glam. Su will probably tell you all that she'd wanted to slap me when I asked if I needed to convert if I wanted to marry a Muslim girl. I said I would never convert. She was obviously disappointed with my answer.

Cut to third date -

I told Su I wanted to meet her mother. Su thought I was crazy. I probably was. Fact is, I had alread fallen in love with her. And I wanted to tell her mother that Su's coming back late all the time because she was spending time with me. I wanted to ask her mother for permission to date her. Oddly, as much as she thought I was joking, she told her mother about me and my request for free food.

On our fourth date, I found myself in Su's house for dinner. Ate myself silly. After that, both mother and daughter was sitting at both ends of the dining table. I was in the midle. I wished I have a camera to capture the reactions of these two. Both wanted to hide under the table when I said I like Su, and wanted to give our relationship a try. I was holding her hand when I said that. Wahahaha!!! So funny! Su was looking down, never at me. Her mother was playing with the vase on the table. By now, we were into less than 5 weeks of dating. And I told her I wanted to marry her... whether she liked it or not (of course I proposed!).

I was invited to meet the family the following weekend... hope you have fun reading this! I know that Su's blushing... hehe... love you baby...

jahwsl
1212
09 Oct 06'

My New Sejadah!!!

Slow start to the day. Woke at 1330 and decided that today I shall go renew my NRIC!!! Was not prepared for the turn of events though...

Took a long bus ride to ICA building... funny... the number of people distributing flyers at the entrance of Lavender MRT Station could possibly amount to more than that in Orchard Road on a weekend... Anyway... the shit started when I approached the information counter for a queue number. Was told that I needed to go for an interview. What the fuck for???!!! I received my reservist notification. Managed to travel a little.. all the things that has to do with establishing my identity. Fuck... could it be...

*flashback to 2003*
I received a letter from CMPB, informing me of a fine of $7,000 for leaving the country without permission. Ok, during this time I was working overseas most of the time. I travelled in and out of Singapore about 72 times in the middle of 2002 to mid 2003. I called the officer in charge. It seems that they've already given me a discount! Each time I did not report my departure, a flat fine of $100 applied. So, it's either pay the fine of get charged (ok... getting charged means you still need to pay, but sometimes, depending on the mood of your CO, you'll receive extra duties on top and above your regular reservist duties. I wasn't about to find out). Over the phone we negotiated. Ok, we were fixed at $300. But fuck, heart pain! Purposely come back for reservist (which I totally enjoy!!! Really!!!) but no one seemed to bother to tell me about it. Fuck! Moral of the story... not all government agencies work together...

Cut to scene at ICA:

Got a queue number to a room with an officer inside. He asked me why I didn't renew my NRIC 2 years ago. Wait... ok!!! I remember... I did go to renew it... but was told my picture was unacceptable. And never went back ever since. The expression on his face was "Ya Fucker... right". But he smiled throughout. Left me alone for awhile, and told me to go to Interview Room 7 which was all the way the other end of the building where someone would call out for me. Ok, no harm. Barely got there when a nice Indian man said: "Jeremy! Come! Follow me". Huh? Dang... must be another fine I thought.

In the room, he told me that I was liable to be fined (See? Told you so. They especially nice to you when you are "liable" to be fined. Not because they want your dough. Most probably because they kinda figured that I'll throw a fit. And it goes beyond stomping my lil' feet and pouting my lips). But I could get away with it as long as I filled in the form stating that I was there before but was rejected. We did make small talk as I filled in my essay... guess the experience was pleasant.

Him: ok, go to counter 9 with your photo and we'll process it for you today.
Me: I have a photo, but I think it's not so nice *I showed him the pic I carried with me*
Him: Haha... ya... looks like you lost some weight ah.
Me: Give me 5 minutes... I'll go upstairs shoot one with me smiling and then pass it to counter 9. Ok?
Him: Ok, I'll tell him first. Faster ah.
Me: Ok! Thank you!!!
Him: Bye Bye
Me: Bye Bye (Bye bye?! I'm still gonna see you right?! - But cute...)

Counter 9 was busy, so I had counter 10 instead. Everything went well... till:

She: So we'll leave Jeremy Wong Sheh Liang & your alias will be Jeremy Amir Hamzah Wong Sheh Liang and your Hanyu Pinyun is Huang Ziliang. But some of these are repeats. Do you want to consider...
Me: Nope. Give me everything! I want everything inside!
She: You sure? It's gonna be ..
Me: Yup! I want EVERYTHING!
She: Confirm? Because..
Me: Don't worry... I know what I want... just give me all. My girlfriend chose the name for me mah! So must put everything inside.

*She gives me a "KNN - You champion ah? Wait...*

She: Ok done!
Me: Thanks. Do I need to change my passport, driving...
She: You need to notify them. The system's not linked.
Me: Oh, then my pasport? When I fill in the embarkation card..
She: You need to fill in Jeremy Wong Sheh Liang @ Jeremy Amir Hamzah Wong Sheh Liang.
Me: Huh???!!!
She: I told you..
*KNN... Ok, Su gave me this name... so I'll have a story to tell when people see my name.. there you have it! Change something seemingly negative into something positive!!!*

Spent a total of 2 1/2 hours there. Funny thing, I seldom smile for the camera. But I smiled this time cos, well... I should be happy right? And Su would so love to see me smile on a pic, what more my NRIC! There you have it babe!

Met Su in Darul Aman. Talked for a bit, then split and broke fast. As usual, I was the first to finish eating,cos I am soooo fucking hungry!!! Scooped burbur for everyone before the prayer call (don't wanna wait!!!) Whacked the rice... etc, then everything else. Asked this guy beside me, cos It's my first time eating from a plastic instead of a disposable plate, should I leave it or bring it back. The guy opposite me said, leave it (but he was busy eating... nice guy). Initially he said up to me. Hmmm.. since up to me means I have a choice. I asked where. All he said was behind. I asked behind where. Behind lah! Ok, last time I'll scoop anything for anyone!

Went behind the mosque in the cooking area. There were 2 groups of people. Makciks and old men. Asked the makciks in english (knowing the depth of my malay, I never attempt to speak it) where I shall put my empty bowl. She pointed behind her. There was a table there. And she was eating.. so I decided to find it myself. Moved behind when one old man from the male group shouted at me to put on slippers, cos it was oily. Ok, I put on the slippers. And I shouted at him where shall I place the empty bowl in english. They ignored me. Then another one shouted "Pakai Slipper!" Ok, fuck you. I know that. Asked again, this time louder "Where you want this fucking empty bow dude?!" Was getting fed up. Fasting really tests my patience. Really, even at the smallest thing. One nice makcik said "Budak ini tak tahu cakap melayu lah!Put here son". Thank you!!! *Muah Muah Muah* Finally!!!

Funny. I notice this in small neighbourhood mosque. They're a very closed people. Unlike mosques like Kampung Holland or Sultan Mosque, where different people from all over the place congregate there. It seems that either someone like me is very welcomed, or highly irritable to some, in this case - many. Hahaha... but I guess they must be as frustrated as me. Maybe their first time fasting too? Haha...

The people in Kampung Siglap treated me like some big fuck. These are really genuine people. Sincere and pleasant. Same for Masjid Mydin. I don't like the mosque at Beach Road. Too many old people who's not too friendly and helpful. Had a staring match with one of them. Anyway, that's an encounter for another time...

Know Su's been wanting to read my post, so I'm sending it out as soon as I can. As always.. I love you kid..

jahwsl - Official this time!!!
1113
09 Oct 06'

Of trees and branches...

I opened up the book for the heck of it. This verse caught my attention:

Our Father who art in heaven;
Hallowed be Thy Name;
Thy Kingdom come;
Thy will be done;
on earth as in heaven;
give us this day our daily bread;
forgive us of our tresspasses as we forgive those whom tresspass against us;
do not bring us to the test but deliver us from evil;
for the Kingdom,Power and Glory are Your's;
now and forever.

It was the Lord's prayer. I was 16. I had just come back from work (I worked 2 jobs while schooling then). And the book was the bible.

I probably felt something, but it was not overwhelming. I began to read more. I discovered the Beatitudes, Ecclesiates and other beautiful writings in the bible. I read it almost everynight by the small little lamp in the kitchen beside the toilet in that little one roomed flat. Times were hard, money was very tight, but things seemed to be moving along... each day at a time.

I was a school boy, trying to make some money to pay my fees and expenses, not for extra pocket money. I worked in Ponderosa because they paid among the highest those days. At the same time, I worked in Delifrance because the hours were flexible (if the staff schedule in Ponderosa was full, I could go over to Delifrance). Food was good... real good. I never had a problem beefing or fattening up. Losing weight seemed to be the problem...

I have a cousin who has 6 kids. He works as a driver. He gets to drive the van back home. I met him one day. I was parking my camry when he noticed me and called out to me. He was in his mid-forties. I noticed that when he opened the side door of his van... 8 people just piled out. A driver earns really well these days I joked. He says it's tough, but he makes do. "Don't worry, be happy" were the words that really struck me. As I am sitting down a few minutes earlier, it struck me again. Islam is about submission. FULL SUBMISSION. There is none such a thing as a half submission. The religion requires you a full submission. Granted. That I understand. But I do not totally accept.

Call me stupid, but what is this thing about destiny? My religious teacher is in deep financial trouble, yet he tells me he is awaiting for a miracle to happen. What is wrong with this picture? Waiting for something to happen is not wrong. Not at all. Many people do that. But they do also but Toto or 4D. They wait for Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday & Sunday. You may submit, but do you expect your family to suffer while you submit? I cannot understand this no matter how open a mind I try to keep.

Of course, I have never believe in destiny. My dad taught me one thing, if at all it has any value: you create your own destiny. My dad was a handicapp. And he was looked down many parts of his life. But true to his words, he created his reality. And I honour him for that. I follow that principle too, closely in fact. Fate? No either. Fate is for people who are too afraid to take what they really want. I want nothing but the best. Too high a mark? I'd rather aim high and miss, at least I may hit a lower target, then aim low and run the risk of missing and hitting nothing. That's a fact.

I admire many of these people. Not because of their virility. But because of their undying trust in the faith. Some may call it being lazy. But let's ease up on them. It's total submission. Either you have it or you don't. I don't. But I'll try to work on it. Ya right...

jahwsl
1102
08 Oct 06'

Durians & Mooncakes should not go together...

Ahamduililah! The dinner was not as bad as I had expected. Su's mother was friendly today (was it because she wasn't feeling well? Maybe... but why am I putting obstacles in front of me? Just take things as they are...).

I managed to full-fast today, despite the fact that I wanted to give up by 430pm. Woke up at about 1130, dilly dallied, then went took a short walk to NTUC @ Coronation Plaza. Took a real short walk back and managed to get home by 2pm. Was feeling really restless. Calle Su to bitch to her and hopefully get some of her attention by ...(ok... said too much. This is personal), but she was prepping her famous langsana. She didn't manage to call me back till about 315pm. But by then, I was already telling myself I should make a trip to Ba'alwi, to do my Ashr prayers (and my Suhr & Zohor prayers too... you know me... like to gather all my prayers and release them to God in one barrage).

Spent an hour there and came back dead tired. Somehow, I seemed magnetised to my sofa. Fell asleep till about 530pm... then suddenly everything went into gear. I had less than an hour to prep for dinner (ok... I may work fast in the kitchen, but today, I was SOOOOOO LAZYYYYY). I was still dreading the moment when both mother & daughter would come.

Managed to boil Su's fav barely (only I can do it the way she likes... *cheeky laugh*), marinate the chicken & fish. Tried a new recipe batter (not too bad, will sell it if the price is right) and was only left with the final dish when mother and daughter arrived - Chilli (Red Hot) Fish. The chilli was just the way I wanted it. Hot and deadly.

Her mother greeted me, I didn't notice they came in because I was in the kitchen trying to get all the marinate into the cooker. And know what? I changed into my Armani long sleeved shirt too! Quite a looker today! (So fuck it if I am singing my own praises! My blig mah!!!)

Dinner proper went well I guess. Small talk, big laughs. Non confrontational. Very friendly atmosphere. Honestly, I held back. Is this my defence or am I just being too suspicious that no one can change that fast. I admit that even after dinner, I did not give her too much credit for her efforts. I sincerely want things to be better, but I just don't know how? How do I manage a future in-law whom I had a bad brush with? How do I try then? The only person in Su's family that I really get along with and care about is her uncle Yuosoff. His sincerity is child-like, and his personality pleasant. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that he is one of the better people I've met in my whole life. And for that, I am grateful. For a person who is not worldly-wise, I have learnt a great deal of humility from him. Happy birthday brudder! At 50, life's just beginning... you just have to hang around me to learn how to enjoy yourself dude!

I do hope you're happy with today, afterall, you badly wanted for this to happen. Although you did not participate in much of the dinner conversation. I am glad, that as a boyfriend, I managed to suck up and swallow my pride for the one person who swept me off my feet (I hope to enter a blog on how we met... you guys would find it so incredulous that she didn't think of me as "hot" initially. Need to ask her though, she's in Geylang with her mother now... He mother suggested to leave early because she has the runs. AND NOW THEY'RE IN GEYLANG???!!!)

I know that life with me hasn't been the greatest. My principles and actions probably struck you with the force of a sledge hammer. But I hold true to what I said in the past. I will do my best to make each and every single day a day of courtship. Too many people take their partners for granted. Your parents did & so did mine.

I want to:
1) sing my hokkien song to you everyday, not because I like it, but because I enjoy seeing you amused by it;
2) tickle you in the right spots that make you cringe because it's one of the few occasions you scream out loud;
3) fall asleep on my thigh when I am brushing your forehead because you stopped having that the moment you grew up;
4) hold you tight because I never want you to feel alone when you have joy or sorrow to share;
5) look at you when you sleep because you're the prettiest girl I'd ever laid my eyes (I've perfect vision by the way. The specs are just for cosmetics) on;
6) carry your bag, not because it's the fashionable thing to do, but because it hurts me to see you shoulder a heavy load;
7) be beside you when you study for you exams because I can make coffee for you in a flash;

I am proud of you for having the courage to be the person you are. Most people conform. They lose their identity. They "become". You are the only person who "remained". I am proud of you for being patient and strong in our baptism of fire. Your have remained true to your words, that you'll never leave me. I am greatly humbled. I am proud that you took the challenge to look after your dad, where many never even answered the call, and also asked for my help, for there is no greater joy than to fulfll one's commitement to family. I am proud of you for telling me what you want, because in an open and trusting relationship, there should not be lesser truths.

Perpetuate me with your loving kindess (just remember to wash your hands after you play with the cats though), and fill me with your faith in God. We may differ in thoughts, words and deeds, but this is the beauty of it all. To give in and give up, that is what true love is. I am grateful that we have none of those, "I do this for you, therefore...". Those are fucks. Their relationship is based on favours of returns. You owe me nothing. I owe you my life. You have shown me true spirit.

Although I converted, I did it willingly. I do not expect you to love me back nor did I expect you to feel obligated. If it works out, it works out. At least we can say we tried, and tried hard. I would rather die today, knowing that I have gave you my all, then wait for the rest of my life thinking "if only". I never want to lose you through my own failings. If there is another party, I'll fight for you (I'll fight with him). I'll die trying. That is my motto in life. You of all people should know that. I never give up and I never give in. The whole fucking world can be against me (fact is, they are) but I stand my ground. My granny still asks about you and well.. we'll see if she can cook "halal" food. To her, rice wine is not wine. It's a condiment like vinegar.

Be blessed and be safe. I look forward to the day I marry you.

jahwsl
1019
08 Oct 06'

I don't wanna go!!!

I don't wanna go to Sheng Siong or NTUC! *lips pouting & stomping my little feet* - my feeble attempt at throwing a tantrum.

The day I've been dreading has arrived. Su woke my up at 1130am with a call on my cell phone. She's on her way to Giant & NTUC. She's excited over prepping for dinner. And the haze's letting up too. Thought I'd not be such a wet blanket, so I'd try sounding excited. But, the bottom gave way. Asked her to get some "you tiao" for "tao suan" cos the nearest wet market is along Farrer Road. I can walk, but I'll die before I get there. Then realised I have no steamer. Bummer. Guess it's either red-bean soup, ching ting, or barley - all my style. Although they pack a punch, Su's probably tastes some of my deserts at least once a week. Boring ya? But what to do? I'll-equipped and I'm not about to ask her to prep it for me at her place. A guy needs some secrets... especially cooking. Once she learns how to prep these deserts, I'll no longer look sexy to her in the kitchen, no matter how "long my chopsticks are".

Oh ya, I've not met a woman who can cook or clean better than me. My mom's cooking.... all right, half fight. Cleaning I win hands down. Think one of her biggest regret was she could not clean, iron, mop, sweep, gardening, choose sweet water-melons as well as me. Ah well, life's a bitch ain't it?

I don't wanna have anyone over for dinner! Especially that woman!!! Argh!!! But you've already promised. Suck it up Soldier! Take the pain! Suck it up! All right, all right... FUCK YOU ALL!!! ARGH!!!

Ok Ok Ok... I'm leaving. Ever wondered why... OK!!! I'M LEAVING!!!

jahwsl
1247
07 Oct 06'

What makes a good Muslim again?!

I have to keep reminding myself that a good muslim is a practitioner of Islam. What is Islam. In a nutshell, it is a religion of Submission & Obedience. Ok.. remember that... don't forget again.

I cannot deny that I am sometimes hard on myself and equally on others too. For the past week or so, I've been dreading this Sunday (tomorrow). I've asked Su to ask her mother to come over to break fast. Su's obviously excited. It's my first real step to wanna make things better of the relationship between her mother & me. Well... on the surface. Fact of the matter I just want to close the whole affair. I have been feeling fucked for the past week when I issued the invite. It came about when her mother offered me to go to her house to break fast anytime I want. Now why the fuck would I wanna to that? I don't even like her! & I told myself that I would never step into her house again, no matter for what.

It is no secret that her mother and me do not see eye to eye on many (almost all) issues. I am not superstitious, paranoid, stupid (at least I hope not), narrow minded, possess the fear of dying, etc... I am as straight as they come. My tolerance for ignorance and especially superstition is... nope... I do not tolerate it one bit, regardless who's mouth it comes out from. The Church does not approve of it, and neither does Islam. So, when a Muslim does not allow the eating of 2 separate plates of rice (in one meal) because culturally the person is worried that the person eating it may have 2 spouses, I see it as practising superstition. Fuck the culture. It's satan's practise! I've confirmed with him... he's beside me now.

But I do recognise the expectation Su has, over wanting things to improve between her mother and me. I owe her that much to try. I am not great, and therefore I am not expecting a miracle (don't believe in it anyway...)

I love Su, and one measure of loving a person, I personally feel, is giving all you got till it hurts. Afterall, show me a perfect relationship (not to say that one does not exisit) and I'll show you a hundred that aren't.

Anyway, I was all right the whole day today, abeilt a little tantrum throwing... till we went to the supermarket. Just when I was about to buy 2.5kg of chicken wings to prep for tomorrow's dinner, she told me that because of the haze, her mother might not want to come over. What the fucking dick shit? Here I am, preparing to prep to tomorrow's dinner, and if the haze does not let up, I'm stuck with all the food? I lost my temper. It was 6pm. I fasted the whole day. I lighted up a cigi because I was so angry. Maghrib was 53 minutes later. Su teared, but probably for the right reasons this time. Not because I broke the fast this late in the day, but becuse of the paranoia that her mother exhibits, was putting a strain on the whole thing. I agree. And I wasn't about to educate anyone on anything. It seems I am the one losing out here, and in most cases I am. So the fuck do I care about improving a person. I am not an angel myself. And I do not profess to be one, unlike those fuck heads.

No one cares enough to put a stop to her nonsensical behaviour. Not her mother's brothers or sisters. No one. This shows only one thing. No one cares enough. Simply put, a paranoid person not only destroys herself inevitably, but also the people around her. Being stubborn is one thing. Being sensible to recognise it is another. Good reason why other than her family who allows her to behave in the punity senseless way that she does, no one wants to get too close to her. Some people never grow up. And shame on her family too. They use a shield a curtain called "Tolerance" to disguise the fact that they do not want to try hard to help their own. Lousy sense of loyalty and possibly laziness and self gratification. I question their love for their own.

But, like I said, a deliverable measure of the person you truly love is to give it all till it hurts. I've verbally fought with and ridiculed almost her whole family (except Yusoff. Is the spelling correct? He's such a nice guy), and met with little resistance. No confrontations from their end. Chicken shit cowards. Not many people can out-talk me and other than having their own opinions, they've nothing to back their words up. I have no respect for such people. You see the world as what you see the world. Your reality is fucked. That is why you will always remain where you are. Even if you don't, the fuck I care. I don't owe you anything.

It's a bitter pill for me to swallow. And make no mistake, I do it willingly without condition. For you Su, I'll do anything. I've fought off your family and friends who have initallly disapproved of our relationship (yup... those people who says that Chinese loves to drink and gamble. I drink... but I never gamble. Horses are just a hobby). I have challenge these people to prove their words and sought judgement. None dared to take up my offer, even though I am one against many (how I love the fucking odds!)

I have gone through much pain, not because these fools do not have the courage to challenge me face-to-face, but because I see the pain you go through with each flag of victory I plant on a tombstone. I hurt much more than you do when I defend myself, taking away the pride of these insignificant people, because regardless how insignificant they are to me, they are your family. I do hate myself sometimes for being such a prick. I know i am. To say that I only attack when provoked is as true as an ant taking a dump on the toilet bowl. We all know that I am aggressive and as asshole who do not respect age, unless it is accompanied by wisdom of choice.

I lay my heart in front of you, to scrutinise. I offer it willing with no conditions nor expectations. I trust you my life even though many of the decision you had, and will unknowingly make, may not be in my best interest. Between us, there is no need for talk of forgiveness. You do what you do because it is what you do best. Being the person you are. Never change yourself. I want you to be as "lay-pak" as you are. I love you. I swear to almighty Allah. I will die for you. But I know that dying is easy. It's bearing with the situations that thrown to me that sometimes makes me beg for delivery.

Oh Allah, bless me that I will have the strength and determination to support Su all the way in this relationship. I am begging you for patience. And I sincerely sincerely sincerely beg that You do not send and idiot to test me (it always happen when I ask You for this virtue... I almost always never pass Your test. So this time, please be easy on me all right?!). Bless all of us to make the right decisions in life and love. For You are life & love... right? Amin.

jahwsl
1248
07 Oct 06'

Care Bear Stare!!!

Woke up at 850am.. after a short nap from drinking some water to prep for the fast for the day at 530am (nearly missed the dateline by 3 minutes... whew). Got out of the house by 9am for a support group session for Parkinson's Diesease at Tan Tock Seng Hospital. Today's session was about excercising for patients with PD. If you've not known by now,Su's dad is already in his advance stage. So what we're doing is trying to learn more about the diesease and how to manage her dad's illness better.

The session was very informative. Talks & demos on stretching, movement and dispelling myths. Overall, four thumbs up. Managed to clear some questions with the principal physiotherapist too. Got to interact with some people with PD too. Well.. not surprising to find me and a few of these old timers laughing at the top of our lungs. They just need to be treated like normal people, not like someone who's gone beyond the point of no return (which is the truth - a person who contract's PD will not get better, it's a matter of prolonging his mental well-being and sanity... something like that. I did not finish my Phd). Anyway, was joking with a couple who's husband contracted PD and was joking about how both of us should be physiotherapists, cause it takes at least 3 weeks to see one. It was there and then that I decided to become a part of the support group. At least I had the physical strength (Su & I were the youngest and bestest looking couple there). And I can cheer a depressed person relatively easily (and you people say I look and sound fierce... tsk tsk tsk..).

Caring for such a person is no easy task. Physically taxing on your body, and mentally trying for your mind. And we've not spoken about the emotional aspect of it. Many care-givers, from statistics, undergo depression. It's a really tough situation.

For the past 5 months or so, I've been visiting Su's dad almost on a weekly basis (I try to be there whenever she's there - to give her whatever moral support I can). I did not warm up to him immediately. In fact, it took me about 2 months just to go into his room and sit beside him. When Su asked me along for July's talk on things to avoid when feeding patients with PD, it dawned on me that her dad, over the long run, cannot be taken care by a maid. He must be taken care of by his own. Even if a maid looks after him, the very least is he needs to be with family. That's the cold hard fact.

I am not a filial son. Have never been. I told my dad when I was 14, that I would never cry for him when he died, and I would never go to his funeral or grave. To this day, I have done all that. Not that I am mean, but some things I can never forget. I never regret for not doing any of those things. If you remember, last year I attended 2 funerals, both in Indonesia. Like I said, I am sadden by it, but I hold no regrets. I have done my part, more than the rest of my siblings. And that is why I can sleep soundly at night. Anyway, I doubt he'd want me beside him on his deathbed.

A PD patient may halluciante, lose his sense of time and being, but he is no less a person. He is human. No matter what a person may have done in his life, with PD, it is a high price to extract. All should be forgiven, and all attempts to preseve the person's life, to end it with dignity should be executed. Although I may not be as filial as the person beside me, I recognise infiliality. Excuses such as being busy, too tired is all bull crap. Jesus once said (well as least something to this effect: When I am in prison, you visited me, when I am hungry, you gave me to eat, when I am thirsty, you gave me drink. Surely you are not far away from the Kingdom of God. Many people can find time to perfom lesser things, like visiting Ikea, shopping, watching soccer. Let's put it this way, if the same person contracted PD, I wonder how would their reaction be when no one comes to visit them. What goes around, comes around. I don't believe in destiny or fate, but karma could be divine supremacy.

For sometime now, we've been taking Su's dad for walks. I've been massaging him (he's heavy and big-boned, and every session takes me out flat) and speaking with him (though his slurred speech does make me laugh). Surprisingly, even though he thinks I am "Roy" (no fucking idea what the fuck a Roy is...), we laugh alot, both him and me... Today ended well enough. All three of us were dog tired. And you know the best part? He recognised the places that we brought him the previous time.

07 Oct 06'

Spoon, Fork or Hand?

It's 458am. I usually keep this sort of hours. Actually, I rarely sleep, to the disgust of the people whom I work with, and of whom work for me. Not surprising to find emails shooting out of my computer at 3am, followed by a call at 8am to the receipient. Sometimes I amaze myself at the inconsideration I possess. Or is it the devil within me? I am blessed with a great team who understands my sense of urgency (sometimes) and who are patient enough not to throw water filled vases at me.

I have no life (well... no social life would be a more accurate account). Probably from the years I've spent away and usually, alone. Leaving home at 14, to many, is an escapism. Not so. It was a method of survival. A means to get by. Then, at that age, I kept a list of items that I wanted to achieve (I am sure many of us do too). Branded watches, luxury cars, etc. But along the way, you begin to develop a sense of urgency, not to manifest your list of wants, but really, in aspects of religion, love, life, social companionship.

I am lucky that I do not see the need to surround myself with friends. Well... not so lucky if you look at the pathetic state that I am in now. The stored telephone numbers in my cell phone are usually foreign. Mostly Indonesian. I've made many a friends there, afterall, I did spend my formative years there. With the current situation now, instead of blaming myself for the lack of initiative, it is better to fill up my time with work. The occasional read would be good (I plan to visit the library tomorrow), as with the virtually non-compliant bottle of wine. That would be good.

Somehow, as I age, I envy those who are surrounded by friends and accomplices. They are blessed. For they are not alone. Whether they continue to be so maybe questionable, but for the interim, the luxury is priceless... at least to me.

Is it my personality? My inability to hold a shallow conversation (by that I mean mindless chatter)? My intolerance for men in their 30's behaving like children? What is it? Someone please slap me (or better yet... just tell me). 32 and nothing to my name. I've achieved nothing except save a couple of animals from being put to sleep in SPCA. And probably pissing a whole battalion of people (but they mean nothing to me anyway... I am not losing sleep over it). Just as well.

I came across a man today. Although my exposure with him is not excessive by any standards, I have learnt alot. Alot of what NOT to do or be. A nice and pleasant gentleman. Polite. Politically correct. Well-mannered. A prospective mother-in-law's dream come true. Ironically, as much as I admire his qualities, he would probably rank among the lowest of the people I would look to in a role model. He's a wimp. Easily bullied and questionable powers to protect his family. Too soft I mean.

Our homosapient forefathers' bodies were made to trek for miles on ends, eat only for the basic sustanance for the body and pro-create when the time (not desire) arises. Although we now, exhibit similar brain structures as them, we begin to get soft. Many of us have lost the killer instinct. Granted, now, we do not participate in hunts or live in an age of fear by being eaten alive by wild animals. I somehow cannot fathom how many of us, who have been through National Service could lose the edge. I would like to think we were well-trained, both physically and mentally. Emotionally, it did take some time to accept the fact that at one point of time, I would possibly have to die for my country.

In my conversation with this person, our views differed greatly. But it was a harmless conversation. Nothing to be sought after, and nothing to be gained. Being Malay, he felt marginalised. No Malay was ever made a general nor a Police Chief. Therefore, why should he fight to defend the nation? True, if you adopt a simplistic cause and effect model on his arguement. But he forgot one thing. The flat that he lives in is subsidised by the government. The car that he drives, may not be subsidised, but it's specs meet the stringent pollution laws here to protect his family. The schools that his children go to extends secular education to all students and invloves inclusionary activities between all races, languages and religions. Not forgetting, and this holds dear in my heart, he and his family, extended or otherwise live in a relatively low crime rated island inhabited by approximately 4 million people. Shallow...

I do not subscribe with Chok Tong's "stayer" or "quitter" label. His words have no impact on me. But I can't say for the rest of the people. What I think of his polices of the policies as laid down by the government is irrelavant. Policies handed down by the government does not dictate the way I live my life. I like the idea of meritrocity. I like the idea of working hard and being rewarded. It's somehow funny that people complain. They gripe about working in a company and being asked to leave without a "golden handshake" package. The complain that they have been marginalised and have no incentives to improve their lives. Let me ask you this then: aren't you looking for a hand-out? Then you're nothing but a glorified begger. You want a better life? Either work harder or be a little more inventive. Do not say that you need a car because of parents, children, etc. hundreds of thousands of people take public transport. Is there a need to change new furniture every year? Again, hundreds of thousands of people make do. Why can't you? Ever heard of frugality? Guess not.

You are pure fucking lazy. Pure fucking simple. *sorry.. am I judging now? I would like to call this the truth*

I would never take a bullet for you, less patch up the wound you may receive in battle, for the same reason you'll never risk your life for me. The less of you, the better. Then the ones who have the desire to protect our families can focus better.

I am not a patriot. Neither am I yearning for political office. I am a humble person seeking a decent living. I have no great ambitions to save the world (although I freelance as a super hero), nor do I harbour the desire to be a national hero. What I have is the strong desire to protect the people I love from harm, danger and ill-will, amongst other things.

Su and I were walking along Serangoon road towards Mustafa centre on Saturday night. She was far in front of me. From my sight, I saw a Bangladeshi, walking on the opposite direction moving in close to her. His intent was obvious. She was quick to avoid him. He wasn't quick enough to avoid my blow to his shoulder (my hand hurt afterward). The same fist found it's way to his friend behind him. Other than let out a shout, they did nothing and disappeared into the busy walkway. Of course someone got a tounge-lashing from me.

On the NEL back, Su did not tell me the same people I hit were in the same cabin as us. She only told me after we were out and on the escalator. She, as they were I assume, were afraid that I would hit them again. There's no need to be afraid dear. Of course I would hit them again. But this time, there would be no running away. Besides, I should be the one more afraid. There were 2 of them. I related this to a few friends of my over lunch one day. Actually a former colleague. He was surprised that I would hit someone. Don't I look like an angel behind a shirt and tie now?

How can I be afraid to stand up against people who try to do damage to me and the people I love. If I had not done what I did, I have failed as a man, as a protector of my family. If brute force is needed, then brute force would be engaged. I have no fear (except for the fear of Allah). Brainless use of force? Of course! But what is most important is I send a message to them. Don't fuck with me. And do not touch my girlie. Only I have access to her! But if through my actions I can send a strong enough message to them not to do what they did to their friends, I may have saved a girlie man some trouble and embarassment.

I have seen men shrink and squrim. It's usually their other half that is stronger and dominant. In some cases, it works. But II can safely say, if I ever have the oppurtunity to be a girl, I would love for my man to protect me, physically, emotionally and all the 'ly"s possible.

But it's only my RM 2 sens worth. My opinion does not fully express the opinions of other mother-fuckers like myself. For people reading this and would like to register your negative comments or suggest ways for me to manage my anger towards tresspassers, please call 1900-what-makes-you-think-i-give-a-fuck. Calls are charged at $0.20 a minute. Remember, the longer to take to register your comments, the more money I stand to make. Alternatively, you can send an email to iamunhappybecause@ilovepussymen.com. Our staff would get back to you as soon as they can.

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jahwsl
0613
05 Oct 06'

Square peg sure can fit in round hole one!

I was about to save this blog when I accidental deleted it. Was thinking of continuing it tomorrow, but I somehow owe it to the people who are reading to to finish it up tonight. I believe there would be typos because I would not be proof-reading this:

The day went well enough. Nothing major (sigh... somehow wished that something major would happen... Good that is...). Did some errands on line and off. Had a fun "shooting the shit" session with Fauz. Spoke to some friends who're thinking off visiting me from Indonesia and Malaysia. Nothing big...

Took a bus to Marine Parade to meet Su to discuss some possible strategies. Su's been somewhat very encouraging in her own manner this fasting month. She'll call mosques that I would possibly go to and ask for the menu (since the day I said the food in Ba'alwi was getting to me), on the pretext that I am allergic to some foods. The top of the list today was at Kampung Siglap. Assam Pedas (many of us nearly choked on the tiny bones), rice, veg and of course, burbur & dates. I got on a bus at 5pm and managed to arrive there (on a SUPER BUS) by 515pm. Went in and asked a group of four gentlemen directions to the prayer hall and ablution area. Said thanks and thought nothing of it.

Ok, before I go on, I have this thing that I usually do (I know it's not right, but whatever works right?!). I'll not perform my dawn, noon or afternoon prayer if I know that I would be going to a mosque. I'll do them in one go. Usually it'll take me a half hour. I do it slowly and I FULLY concentrate. Today, it was a little less than an hour. Nothing eventful, except for an ass-wipe who is the first person to test my patience in a prayer hall. He was one of the group of four where I asked for directions.

I'll save the nitty gritty, because our conversation went on for a little more than 10 minutes (alot can be said in 10 minutes). I'll call him AW - ass wipe for short. Here's how it went.

AW - Assalam'kum
Me - Mualaikum'salam
AW - You Chinese?
Me - Yes I am Chinese. I am a convert.
AW - *says something in arabic - praises I assume*

Then the conversation went on how I should find a teacher and stuff like that. I get the feeling either he is waiting for me to ask him who to recommend (obviously I would assume himself - most people who say similar things like that to me usually do) or he's just making me feel small - which usually has no effect on me whatsoever. Cut to:

AW - You MUST find a teacher to teach you
Me - Not now.
AW - But you MUST learn from a teacher!
Me - Nope, not now. I don't even believe. I convert because of my girlfriend. But I am learning it slowly by myself now.
AW - Like that you are not sincere!
Me - *raising my voice* WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE ME?! WHO DIED AND MADE YOU GOD?! I AM LOSING MY TEMPER NOW!
AW - *attempts to put his hand on my chest and says something in arabic*
Me - DON'T TOUCH ME!
AW - I hope ALLah will bless you
Me - FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!
AW - *attempts to say something*
Me - FUCK OFF!

All this happened in the prayer hall. Everyone was looking in my direction but looked back once I turned to them. I don't think I made a very good impression on many people in Kampung Siglap. The fucking hell I care. I don't go to the mosque to socialise. I go to the mosque to pray (it helps there's free food). Whatever I do, or fail to do for that matter is between Allah & me. No one else. Why? I am certain that on the day of judgement, I'll be called to explain and justify (or not) for the things that I have done. And I am pretty sure no one will stand up for me. So there you have it.

One of the virtues of being a Muslim is respect for elders. I do, to a certain aspect encourage that. I myself try my best to do that. But where do you draw the line? Where do you draw the line between respect, tolerance and encouraging a cock sucking "know it all" like Mr. AW? If I were to say: Yes Sir, Yes Sir, three bags full, will I not be encouraging him? All right, we all know for a fact that I am not that great a person. I didn't look at that perspective. I was pissed he called me insincere. If I am, so be it. Then my question is, would I make the effort to go to the mosque or fast? Maybe, for a different persona. But my sincerity is only given to people whom I trust. I do not trust him. In fact, early in the conversation I had this feeling he was trying to sucker me. Regardless, I do not appreciate someone telling me what I know or what I do not know. The theory of "He tells you what your inner conciousness want to tell you" may hold some water. But I don't fucking care. Why? Because I am not a mat. Plain and simple. I will always remeber this saying, "Do not be humble. You're not that great". I follow that almost as religiously as I take a leak when nature calls.

I have zero tolerance for people without knowledge. Afterall, "a little knowledge is a very dangerous thing". In our conversation, I did say that I was a Catholic who attended daily mass for 8 years. I bet he NEVER prays at a mosque for everyday straight for 8 fucking years of his goddamm life. He told me that in every bible, the words are written differently. Some bibles have verses that others don't. That is totally not true. If that was the case, wouldn't the Christians have already realised that and tried to plug the hole as what King Edward did? There are no mistakes in the bible. Everything must be taken into context. FYI, Abraham, Moses Jesus and Mohammad worshipped the SAME GOD! It is only the name that we call on Him that is different! Ass wipe, if you're smart enough to be reading this: Name me the four books given to man by God. I don't know what school you went to, but I bet the BIBLE probably wasn't on your list. Playboy or Gay USA doesn't count as a book. It's a montly published erotic-entertainment magazine.And about about the prophets? Jesus wasn't one of them?

You may wear a gown, don a nice looking turbam with frills and have a jangut, but you're an empty vessel. I was raised in a Methodist school for a good ten years of my life. And I held offices in Catholic missions. You think you're so smart? Old may not necessarily be gold dude. Think it's YOU who needs a teacher. Damm retard.

I go to the mosque to pray. Not to socialise. Not to make friends. If that happens, it's is the grace of God. Not to impress others nor to create a New World Order (Osama has tried and failed - read the news lately?).

I remember I had a quarrel with Su's mother. It was a time when I convertd without anyone knowing. Her microbiologist sister came into the room (we had arranged a counselling session with only Su & her mother... but she came along) For a microbiologist, she's not too bright. Upon finding out that I had converted, she said that shouldn't I tell everyone that I converted, so that the situation would be qwelled (Su's mother had a problem with me not converting IMMEDIATELY when we dated. And she's a divorcee by the way). What she said was well and true. But like what I said, she's not very bright. As superficial as she is, she failed to realise 2 very important things: I am not a mat & I have nothing to prove to no one. Especially to insignificant people. See? Not very bright. She should get her money back from the place where she got the degree from.

Pai seh... digressed.. Cont'd :

And you want to know the best part? After magrib, I was walking towards him. He saw me and changed his direction. You coward! You have the audicity to tell me lies and yet you do not dare confront me?! Does Islam teach you to behave this way?! You proselytise and preach, but you practise not one word of Islam. Shame shame on you. I hope whatever name you call your god, that he will bless you sorry little ass. The God whom I worship does not teach me to judge nor belittle.

If anything, this encounter has taught me to be proud of 2 things:

1) Proud to be a Muslim with little knowledge - I am aware that my knowledge is limited. And therefore, I have the desire to learn. More importanly, I always approach things with an open mind, for an open mind can conquer many things.

2) Proud to be Chinese - I am not racist. But it is the Malay culture to be patient (I would say more of a virtue) and not challenge age and the wisdom that is supposed to accompany it. I stood my ground and fought off his advances. I proved that if you want to teach me something, do it with the sincerity of wanting me to be a better person from it, not because you think you are doing me a favour. I need no favours from no one. I can hold my own.

Hypocrites will bear the bane of my whip. Liars will face the blade of my gulotine. I grind my blade daily and it falls sharp and swift.

After writing this, I am no longer anrgy with him. In fact, I feel sorry for his god forsaken ass. He has assumed the position of God and passed judgement. I truly feel sorrry for him. I sincerely wish he'd repent and be wiser from it. The Chinese has this saying "huo tao lao, xue tao lao". Loosely translated, it means, "you will always learn, even when you're old".

OMG!!! I didn't even bitch about fasting!!! Yeah!!! Ahamduilah!!! Some more!!! Bring it on!!!

Dear Allah, please bless all of us here. Give us the humity to seek the knowledge and the truth that You have intended for us to find. Give us strength so that we can fulfil all Your desires. And bestow on us all of Your blessings (all ah!) that we may be good Muslims to reflect the goodness of You to all around us. Bless that mother fucker too dear Lord. Amin.

jahwsl
05 Oct 06'

You say Toe-Mah-Toe, I say Toh-Mae-Toh

I am grateful for the many calls, text messages and emails that I have gotten since the creation of this blog. I am grateful for the kind and encouraging words of these friends whom I never knew cared one bit about me. After all, I do not have many friends. And I am greatly humbled by your kind words.

For many of you, we have just met. Most probably, I am a friend of a friend whom we managed to get along, or a person whom have just caught my profile online and decided it was worth your time to read my writings. For all of you who shared your concerns, I am grateful. Maybe, I think, it's time to share a little of my life with you.

I never had the luxury to bragging rights about being born and initially bred in a kampung. I know many of you younger than me do. I was born in Kallang Airport. We then shifted to Geylang Bahru, then to St. George's. Well.. all around the Jalan Besar area anyway.

Life was all right initially. Money was not a big problem. We stayed with my dad's dad, who was a marine engineer (for an iliterate man, he done well in his life). His salary (hardship, allowances, etc) amounted to US$8,000 per month. Mind you, this was the early 80's. The only problem was, he was only back in Singapore for once or twice a year, each time for 3 weeks. His job was to inspect and repair/maintain/service cargo ships all over the world. He could be on an oil rig, or a mother vessel. But his life was mostly on the sea. Very unlike mine. I prefer it in the air on on land. Not a very sea person.

Life was all right... like I said. Grandmother then (I think she still is) a hardcore gambler. She's a nice little woman. Not very good at maintaining the house. But she tries her best... if she's not at the gambling den. By the way, they're both still alive and kicking... my long time running joke: I'll die before they do.

Now... mom and dad's a little weird. Let's start with dad (I call him pa... then the natural progression became "oi"). Handicapped at birth, he was a survivor (well.. most ACSians are! Yeah!). Never looked down on himself. But had a fiery temper, when he was sober. It's all right when he's drunk (which is half of his awakening time). Nonetheless, his mind is like a fireball of ideas. He was one of those people who "made things happen". After school days, he got into trouble, been jailed, smoked pot/grass, etc, you know... But he still managed to keep afloat... barely. When he got retrenched in 86 during the recession, he and mom made a living by taking a bus to Thailand, buying handbags and stuff, and selling it here to friends. They made a very good living...

His big break came when he found out that with his disability, he could get a hawker stall in almost anywhere at half the time and half the cost (Hardship case - another nice way of saying handicapp priority). His first stall at Sims Drive was boom boom boom. Thick bracelets and chains followed. Together with a lavish lifestyle of wine, women and song (he was a travellling musician). Mom stayed home to watchthe kids. As we got older, she helped out there too.

Next on the road, a canteen at Paya Lebar Air Force Base. I set it up with him. We had alot of god times there. Worked hard, and enjoyed life.

Mom, now mom was of an Arab descent (why my dad did not have to convert, I have no fucking idea). A nice and patient woman who stood by her husband and family and did not expect anything out of it. No nice words were needed. When something went wrong, it was "Mee!!!". Not as highly educated as my dad, she managed. And living with a typical Hainanese family (my grandparents spoke nothing but dialects those days... before they managed to speak mandarin), she was forced to communicate in the same language. Oh ya... she reads and writes mandarin too. *Shame on me*

It was only after all of us were grown up that we began to elaborately celebrate Mother's Day, her birthday... and "no fucking excuse just bring mommy out for dinner day". She was close to my younger sister - yen yen. They spent alot of time cooking and baking. Somehow, it was my younger sister who managed to form the strongest bond with my mother.

Brother is a dead beat bum. We're never close. He managed to hunt me down to a shop that I had in tampiness after 7 years of not seeing or speaking to each other. Reason? He needed to borrow $1,700. He opened up a folded piece of paper, and showed me what the money was for. he was with his fat assed wife (my mother didn't like her in the first place) I said ok, I'll transfer the money. The conversation went like this (FYI, I was with a friend who couldn't believe that Jeff was my brother. No "Hi How are you?" Nothing):

Jeff - Jeremy, do you have $1,700?
Me - Depends. Why?
Jeff - I need it to pay fines *showing me the list of items, mostly traffic police composition fines and parking summons*
Me - Ok, I'll transfer
Jeff - Thanks

The actual conversation between 2 brothers who've not seen/heard for 7 years went this way. But then again, he is my brother. If I have the means, whatever the amount, I should just help out. I place no value on money. Well.. he seemed to know my weakness to kin. The amount went up to $70,000 at one time (not the total amount he owes me- at one time he borrowed that amount).

Incidentally, he was the reason I started Serengeti Designs & Consulting Pte Ltd - an interior design firm. He had a run in with his boss then. And it became ugly. Fact is, he borrowed money from this guy... but never returned even when he left. Think the amount was $3,000 or something. Anyway, Jeff called me and told me that someone was threatening him. He gave me the address of this person and I went over to his boss's house... alone.

Me being me, I banged up the house and gave everyone a scare. What was said did not matter. I setup this company for my brother to manage. Incidentally, he was a bankrupt and finding a job was difficult. The least I could do was set him up for something. Unfortunately, his old ways of spending that got him into trouble in the first place resurfaced. But this time, he was spending company's money. And I still didn't know that he took money from his ex-boss. I filed a corruption order in CPIB against him. This was too much. We were profitable the very first week we were in business. And we managed to get some high-profile clients. Jeff, if you're reading this, I still love and care for you. but your ways must stop.

I took over and managed it myself from then. I knew nothing about the business. I was only in charge of sales and marketing. My team of contractors guided me along the way. Til today, I am still grateful to them. That is why, no one today pays my contractors' the amount I pay them for a single job. People in the industry calls me stupid. But I know my debt of gratitude can never be paid with cash. They could've easily suckered me. But these men with tattoos stuck with me. My brother took the money that was due to them (Industry standard is 20% deposit for a job and then progressive payments. I pay 50% down, and and additional 10% of contracted price if the job is completed before the dateline. And my datelines are very luxurious.) In the end, many of them, as a last resort saw me. I was ashamed. Not because of what my brother did, it was just that I had let them down. Till today, I maintain my Team A contractors. We never speak of price till the day the job is delivered. These are the most loyal people the face of this earth has ever seen. And I am proud to be associated with them.

Ironically, I only became a business owner when I came back a couple of years ago. I was never like the rest of my family, going into the family business of F&B / catering. I would be what you call a black sheep. No one would talk to me, well because I never came back... even on CNY. I preferred to be by myself. I got back in April 2004. My first business was registered in October. Then another, then another. My passion was never in the businesses I did. Too technical for me. I prefer sales and marketing. I prefer to outline strategies and execute them. That is why, the businesses that I enter are all highly competitive. I try to put my money where my mouth is... I choose to go into the most saturated industries. That is where the fun lies...

Having said all that... this is really just a glimspe of my life. I think everyone's life is interesting. We all have our shadows as we do our cherished memories. What I miss most being back here are my friends. Last year, I attended 2 funerals. One in Jakarta, the other in Medan. My friends are old... and I do miss them terribly. Even at their age, they still know how to have a good time. We have a ball in Singapore or Indonesia when we all get together. Anyway, it does seem that today's entry is kinda boring. Well, not everyday is a Sunday... as they say.

Allah please bless each and everyone of us. Show us Your infinte love & mercy. I ask that You bless the people who are vocationed in Your service. Give wisdom to the governing body MUIS to grant all of them a "Vocation Day" or something like that. You know what I mean. Amin.

jahwsl
04 Oct 06'

99 bottles of beer on the wall.. give me brandy anytime

I used to drink. Excessive to some. Ridiculous to others. Can't help it I say. And it's weird. My liver started to show signs of wear, possibly from processing the liqour (I always take my liqour neat) I've chosen to intoxicate it with. Well, I do get drunk. But I would like to think I hold my liqour better than most people. The closest I came to drinking was last Thursday evening & Friday morning. A can of Calsberg on each occasion.

I had a tel-con with Ustad Yusri this morning. A nice gentleman. He suggested I see him next week. But the feelings inside me were already confusing enough. I could not hold them. I needed to speak to someone. Someone who has a louder voice than me (not louder decible, but loud - authority). The people so far suggested to me are wips and knick knacks. Know nothing, but act as though they do. The worst blow is being held out on the truth. Someone suggested I speak to a person who had a girlfriend who converted. But the truth is, she did not convert. She tired, and he tried to help her, but they couldn't make it. Now tell me this. You either convert, or you are not. Simple. No matter how you slice it. I take things with ALOT of salt now. I cannot even trust me friends to tell me the truth.

Anyway, I am glad for speaking to Yusri. Younger than me, no doubt, but patient. The difference between him and other ass wipes? He does not force things down my throat. I've come across many people who outwardly may look nice and kind and possibly pleasant to speak to. The moment they open their mouths, it's all opinionated speeches replayed over and over and over. I don't need this. No wonder converts convert for the sake of converting... to get married. They don't give two fucks after that. Pray? Ya... right.. I've got better things to do than kiss a mat five times a day.

I absorbed much of the things he said. But the thing that caught my attention the most was this: "Speaking to a born muslim and speaking to a convert cannot be the same". I did not catch the reasoning that followed, because the earlier words struck me deep and hard. I do not normally disassociate myself with born muslims. I just sometimes do not want to participate in their religious conversations. Shooting the shit is fine. Nothing else is.

I want to be a good person, this is no lie. Be it a muslim or pagean. Following the laws as laid out by Abraham and Mohammad is fine either way too. Forcing it down my throat like a ton of breaks will derieve 2 things:
1) my indifference;
2) the definate curse of your mother/family/neighbour.

I do not take to hard instruction well. If there is a protocol, then there is a protocol. For every doctrinated procedure, there must be a reason behind it, regardless of how small is it (there is no such word as ir-regardless for your info). To take the time to explain it to me would be a wonderful thing that anyone can do for me. To force it down my throat would derive reactions (1) & (2) of the above, resulting in the opposite extreme of my gratefulness.

He kindly suggested I speak to close friends... people who would take the time to listen to me. Fact I: I do not have many friends. Fact II: I do not have many muslim friends. Fact III: My muslim friends do not have the virtue of listening. They think they are god's gift to me. Unfortunately brothers, at best... you can only be aqquaintances. X is different though. Much different. But as I've mentioned, he is knowledegable... to get away with things that probably do not matter. And as nice a person he is, I only go to him for knoweldge-based questions, not the emotions or feelings that I go through. So where does that leave me? Pathetic.

I have until the end of Friday to decide my final decision. I have given allowances for that. I have also made the first move to seek help to qualm the insecurities within myself. For that, I feel better... for a bit. Nothing hurts me more than having a person smoke me all along about what is and what isn't. I have no patience for that.

Ture to the fact, no one forced me to convert. True to the fact even more so I did it willingly. What peeves me is also the fact that extended hands become withdrawn the moment I take up their offer for solace. Shame on you. How dare you openly speak with self-proselytising attitides only to give excuses for your inability and incompetance to support me, a person you call brother.

Then again, Yusri did relate something to me. And I would probablly keep this in my little diary. I did not agree, nor disagree with him for that matter. I simply understood. If I were to be judged on my outlook, there are 2 extreme categories that I would fall in to. No prizes for guessing that they are. Likewise, I am moderate and I am simple. All I ask is to be treated with the ounce of respect that you you accede anyone on the street. Nothing more, nothing less. I seem to be feeding egos when people come to know that I am a mualaf. Dudes... you guys are in for a rude awakening...

Conan the Barbarian said: "Things that do not kill you, will make you strong". I am coming out stronger in this. I have great respect for people who have shown me the truth. But as I have mentioned, there are people in this world whom I would not lift a finger to help. For those who choose to extend their worldy knowledge, I am grateful. I am also weary. How can someone who is not well-read, well-travelled, reasonably educated teach me something I do not possibly know in all my years of living and travelling overseas? I respect wise men. I frown at men who think they are wise. And I will mow them down. Stronger... yup... I think so...

My neighbour is a nice guy... with four kids... all very well-mannered and polite. Funny thing is... among all the people I know.. he is the most encouraging. Weird. And the best part... he doesn't even know my name. We call each other "Bro", "Babe".. you know. Funny how I find sense in the places I'd least expect it. The closest people to me, at best, I feel (I may be wrong) pay me lip service. No one can fully understand what I go through. If they did, they'd not be judgemental. They are nice people. But topics of religion is totally different.

If there is one short-coming in my life, it is the fact that I do not see the desire to make many friends or engage in a wide social circle. My social circle is wide, but only in the industry sense of the word. My deep friendships are made with men twice my age, and more often than not, their children are much much older than me.

Pak Tjung passed away early this year. I miss him badly. He was close to 90. And he had lived a good life. We nearly went into a JV... He passed away before that. And I did not know his brother-in-law too well to follow through with the proceedings. He is old too. And he being the richest man in Tahiti and in Bogor, I would not totally own all the assests. I really miss him for the knowledge he shared with me. He is a good man. And he is someone who would go straight to heaven, passing "Go" and collecting his $200. I remember a singing flower I couried to him when he was in poor health, nearer to Christmas last year. His grand daughter from US liked it so much that she took it home with her to the states. And he called me to tell me about it. For a millionare, he is one simple person. No big cars, no big house. Lives simply and alone.

Anyway, I have clarified with Yusri on many aspects. I regret believing the nonsense that people tell me. I have been fooled by insolance. Then again, the one eyed jack is king in the land of the blind... The quest now remains for me to seek the truth. Nothing else matters. Nothing. And I ask for peace within myself. And I seek the wisdom not to trust anyone without authority. Bless me in this. And throw all those ignorant proselytising fools into hell.

jahwsl
03 Oct 06'

The One Eyed Jack Is King in the Land of the Blind

Ghost Wars by Steve Coll has been the only literature I've been reading for the past month. With 600 pages in font 7 or 8, it proves challenging to my eyesight no doubt. It really is about events leading to September 11 from the early 1970s, mostly on Osama and his merry gang (actually, Osama, from these recollections of interviews from heads of the intelligence agencies from US, Pakistan, India and some from the Taliba, deserves more credit for his intellect than what most people give him), the struggle of the Northen Alliance, the involvement of the Saudi government and possibly Pakistan from de-classified information from the CIA.

This is one of the few books which do hold my attention (so much so I was prepared to pay $0.50 to NLB to extend this book). Serious and in-depth interviews from heads of agencies and various independant states gives Tom Clancy a run for his money. The only thing is, Tom Clancy's work is somewhat fiction (for eg, you do not send in a crack commando team to eliminate a target you without knowing the full battle conditions. For every uncertainty, your military presence builds up, to justify these unknowns). Political as well as situational of individual charaters mentioned in his book, this read does not simply place me as a third party. It involves me interactively. I am able to better train my mind to develop bigger concepts and possibly, help me see the bigger picture in my life.

Osama was the 17th son of a Saudi Billionare who made his fortune in construction. Being wealthy as he is, he was given an annuity of US$1 million a year as an allowance (of course he didn't really need the money... he had his own construction business, building super highways for the Saudi governnment at one time. He also owned cotten and salt farms in Kandahar).

With most of his siblings opting for further studies overseas in Ivy league universities, our friend opted to study in a local university where he surrounded himself with holy men and teachers of the faith. I cannot say much about his motivation to do the things that he had done, but he did have a strong focus on what he wanted. And true to many reports, he was a gentlemanly figure. He did not lose his temper, neither did he punish his subordinates. There was one incident when one of his men stole from him. The fate of the man was worse than having his hand chopped off. He was given a lecture by Os himself, and then made to pay back what he took in installments. How then, can such a person, with supposed patience and grace, design what was to be history's darkest day? I have no fucking idea. And do not listen to the ah peks in the coffee shops. They still think that planes are being flown with a 4 man crew and stewardesses are loose woman.

I may not be as ambitious as Osama in effecting his New World Order. I do not have them at all (if the CIA is reading this, I am a humble man striving to make a living - If I have billions, they are better spent on humanitarian projects). But was he misunderstood? His mother loved him. He had no big squabbles with his family. Well, it was only when he was expelled from by the Saudi government to live in exile when they spoke out against him. But by and large, he was not popular. he just did his thing and kept a low profile.

I sometimes think, as a muslim, do I have high expectations? Am I going in that direction? My registrar told me that one of his students, a chinese convert was place under the terrorist act and jailed. I had no interest in the subject because I am not of weak mind. My need for knowledge surpasses the discouraging things that people try to tell me.

As an infant muslim, I recognise that I need to learn more. To understand... maybe. But how can I understand if I do not have the knowledge? Contarary to what many people may say, I am not closed to learning. Instead, I embrace learning. And I try not to limit myself to learning about things that interest me along. I read literature on subjects that are dry enough to put me to sleep on the first page. Sometimes I do give up. Sometimes I don't. And the times when I don't, I find myself richer. There would be many occasions that I would not even use the information that I've read, but it's a sadistical madness that I have learnt something new that drives me to pick up on matters that normally, Singaporeans do not bother about.

The conflict in Africa, Somalia, Rwanda, Cuba, Russia... I can see the stage clearly from when I stand, peering into the book. It teaches me a wealth on how culture and religion affects even the most simplest of subjects.

Unfortunately, my journey as a muslim is not becoming. I do read, I would like to think that I read more than most of my fellow converts about the religion itself. But honestly, I have no interest in the religious books I read. I read it because someone close tells me it would be good for me to know. I tried arguing that I have a whole lifetime to learn about the religion. I gave in. Now, I just stop reading. I stop wanting to learn more. If i feel the presence of Allah.. then I feel the presence of Allah. Else, it doesn't affect me one way or the other. I have lost the desire.

Many people say that I am a new born to this faith and that I should take things slow. Then why is it that I have a timetable to follow? That I am expected to know certain things as soon as I can? I cannot be bothered to attend classes. My malay language is not that good. I can make conversation, but that is as far as it goes. But here I am, being given books on the religion. How do I say that I am not interested? Stepping out of my comfort zone itself was a big deal for me. I am still not totally out of it. What more this fasting month? The thought of renouncing this religion plays in my head every single day, one week prelude to the fasting month. I am expected to fast. If I fail for a day, I am expected to "pay" the day back. I do not respond to threats well. I would like to think that I manage threats well - I do not give in. Like I said, I handle the truth well. And my reality is that I do not do what I do not want to do. If I do it, I am giving it a chance, a try. People do take me for granted in that sense. Just because I try to please. But many people do not realise that I have a stubborn streak in me either.

In reality, these days have been the darkest of my life. I am holding on to this religion because of the person I love. I do not feel an overwhelming sense of urgency to recite the holy book. I do not even feel an urgency to get along with my future in-laws. They're blood-sucking cowards anyway. The fact is, I do feel alone. No matter how people may tell me I am not. No matter how people tell me to take my time, I am still not allowed to fail. I am not allowed to address my own personal issues because there is simply no provision to. And I never give excueses.

I do not doubt that muslims are one of the better breed of people to be with. I even told my agent that if he wants my business, he will have to find me a muslim/malay neighbour. But the matter in which this has been handled has disappointed me. It is all right to make me angry. I would still listen and I would sometimes relent, afterall... I am one of the most reasonable person I know. But when I get disappointed, I'll not say anything. And once I remain quiet, I usually never come out. Disappointment stems from rejection. And constant rejections simply reinforces indifferences. Promises said were never closely met nor delivered. Gestures extended were withdrawn back.

I'll be honest. I do not need to know much about the religion. I just need someone to speak to. Not to someone to teach me. I can teach myself. It's not about that. It's the real frustration that I am going through. I have fasted for 5 out of 9 days. Still, it is not enough. It is never enough...The feelings that are going into my head and heart. Somehow, with the efforts that I made, there isn't such a person here at all that wants to know how I am feeling. Everyone wants to throw a doctine or protocol in my face and expect me to take it as gospel. No one seems to be interested in hearing from a mualaf. So be it.

Dear all, it has been nice to know you all as my brothers and sisters in the same faith. I have chosen to renounce. If you think it's a matter of me being childish and rash, I assure you that I have tried ways and means to combat this feeling. I am lost, but unlike lost sheep, I have needs. Those needs, for the longest time were not satisfied. Marlow's Level of Self-Actualisation, from his Hierachy of Needs was not met. The natural progression would be to go back to the previous level.

I blame no one. I hate no one. It is the thing to come. Never in my life have I felt so alone and unwanted. I do feel abandoned. I can relate this to giving the best of my ability to my commander, who in the end, leaves me for the enemy to take me prisoner. I never leave anyone behind. Dead or alive,we will all come home together. You have tested my loyalty. And therefore, you shall have none. I am tired of calling for help. I am weary of the trials that lay before me, placed in front of me by insignificant people. And it is the same people whom I am expected to respect. My dear friends, life is not about the number of breaths you take. It is about the number of breaths that take you away. My spirit is dead. It died long before I even started this battle. My body is simply a mechanical collection of joints, muscles and fluids that function in fulfilling the basic needs of sustainance.

Allah, this day may be the last day I call You by this name. I seek and pray my last prayer as a muslim for You to hold true to Your Promise. The Promise which You have given in Your Holy Book. guide Your followers to the Promised Land, and guide them well. They remain strong in their faith to You, as You to them. Else I'll fucking kick your ass! Amin.

jahwsl
03 Oct 06'