Almost Saved

For so many years, I have had countless lectures about how I needed to be saved (the Christian way, of course), by my evangelistic friends, friends of friends, classmates, teachers, relatives, workmates, and even strangers on the street (while I was waiting for a bus!). That constant preaching....

For years, I had attended church services to explore, but Christianity just doesn't seem right for me. It doesn't make sense. (But they will tell you it doesn't have to make any sense. Just have faith!)

There was a time in 1999. I was a young graduate then, at my desk doing my own work. A lady, my boss's friend, was just standing a few feet away from me. She was waiting for my boss who was engaged on the phone.

From the corner of my eyes, I noticed her staring at me. Then she finally opened her mouth to find out what I normally do on weekends and on weeknights.

"Nothing much," I replied. "Why?"

I looked up. The look on her face told me I was such a pitiful soul. I needed to be saved.

"Then you should come to church. Join us, this Sunday?" She cleared her throat.

Her words and her facial expression were akin to the straw that broke the camel's back.

And just like that, instead of being saved the Christian way, I chose to keep my distance.

Enough for now.

Pleasure Principle

The authorities have been making their rounds to raid and seize shops selling specialty condoms, vibrators and other forms of "sex toys".

Frankly, I don't understand what the big deal is to sensationalize these raids. I think the authorities should channel their efforts and time in rounding up illegal immigrants, reducing piracy and keeping the city, instead of depriving normal folks of some sexual enhancing experience.

What's so lurid about purchasing objects for sexual enhancement for private pleasures?

What's so wrong with wearing a sexy thong, with the help of a little vibrator between consenting adults?

Is sex just all about in and out movement, spew your load in the hope of hitting the jackpot of procreation?

Nobody gets hurt, nothing gets stolen, so why do they always have to dictate what's right and wrong, and what's moral or not, what's sinful or not, for what things that are done behind closed doors?

More! Or Less?

After Material Girl in 1984, Madonna, as Breathless Mahoney in the film Dick Tracy (1990), once again sang about her obsession with material wealth in the gold digger's anthem More.

Here's an excerpt of the song:

One is fun, why not two?
And if you like two, you might as well have four,
And if you like four, why not a few
Why not a slew[More! More!]

If you've got a little, why not a lot?
Add and bit and it'll get to be an oodle.
Every jot and tittle adds to the pot
Soon you've got the kit as well as the caboodle.[More! More!]

Never say when, never stop at plenty,
If it's gonna rain, let it pour.
Happy with ten, happier with twenty
If you like a penny, wouldn't you like many much more?

Or does that sound too greedy?
That's not greed, no, indeedy
That's just stocking the store
Gotta fill your cupboard, remember Mother Hubbard.[More! More!]

Each possession you possess
Helps your spirits to soar.
That's what's soothing about excess
Never settle for something less.
Something's better than nothing, yes!
But nothing's better than more, more more[Except all, all, all]
Except all, all, all
Except once you have it all [have it all]
You may find all else above [find all else above]
That though things are bliss,
There's one thing you miss, and that's
More! More!
More! More!
More! More!
More! More! More!

Everyone appears to be seemingly obsessed with the "More" that Madonna sang about. We want bigger flashy cars, more properties and bigger houses to acquire, a higher position in the corporate ladder. A bigger paycheck. We tell ourselves that it is for our own retirement nest egg, for our family, so that we can all live comfortably, if not luxuriously, when the time comes. We eat in fancy restaurants, we want to become members of exclusive clubs, we wear branded attire, we believe that we appreciate style, quality, excellence, above everything else. We measure success based on how much we have.

Hence, we battle traffic to work everyday, spending at least an hour or more on the road. We tolerate our mean, calculative bosses daily. We rush for project deadlines, meetings, e-mails; we want to appease our clients/bosses who seemingly always set impossible deadlines in the name of efficiency and urgency. We are almost always expected to put in the extra hours at work - supposingly to prove that you're hardworking and you deserve a bigger raise in the next appraisal. In our quest for more, we selfishly take advantage of circumstances, and sometimes, even people we call friends and colleagues. We tell variations of the truth, we bulldoze our way through. Every move we make is calculated, carefully crafted. Rude people are everywhere. Nothing else matters except a higher position and a nett monetary gain for us. We tell ourselves we enjoy this. We believe that was our purpose in life. We want more. Until the time comes for us to sit back and enjoy.

But I am tired. Tired of running after more. Tired of wanting more. Because no matter how much you have, you'll always want more. When I first graduated, I lived such a simple life. I complained that my salary was too little and wasn't enough. Now, years later, with a higher salary, it is still not enough. I want more. I need more. But what is more? How much is enough? When will be the time when I can say, I have it all, and I don't need any more?

Apart from material wealth, I am probably not much better off than this man.

Two weeks away in the fields - without urgent work deadlines, without horrendous traffic, without computer (no e-mail), without television, without cosy restaurant food, no need to rush to the gym, no hot water shower, no rude people, nobody bossing me around.... I don't have to be worried if my reports are up to my client's expectations, I didn't have to justify my actions to any one.

Most of all, I didn't have to constantly compare myself with my peers and relatives. I didn't have to bother about which social status I am at. Unlike during CNY, relatives were quick to compare who's children earns more, who has acquired more houses, who owns a bigger car (time to upgrade - they remind you, even if your humble Wira is still in good working order), who has a more beautiful wife/family, what branded stuff you're wearing, who has made more multiple trips overseas (apparently, that is also a measure of success, and the destination is also important! If you go to places like Japan, China, Middle East, US or Europe, you're more successful than if you go to say, Thailand, Indonesia or India. And then, they want to find out if your overseas allowance is more than their sons/daughters - again another measure of success).

In those two weeks, life was unhurried, simple, pleasant. It's like back to basics. The farm, the village, the atmosphere was peaceful. I became peaceful.

Millet Plant

Dahl Plant

It's simply amazing how the flower (above) will turn into little cotton bolls, which eventually ripen, turn brown and open up to reveal fluffy cotton.

Every day at the fields, I would spend a lot of time looking at soil and the plants - the leaves, the flowers, the seeds, the fruits, and even the insects. And every time I look, I would discover something new, find something different and I would again be filled with awe, as if I've just seen the plant for the first time. Nature is just amazingly beautiful. I never get tired of the fields.

Perhaps, it's time to consider downshifting.

Or am I just experiencing mid-life crisis?

The Sweet Escape!

OK. Well, according to some people who called for a ban of Gwen's concert, I had committed a big sin: I attended Gwen's concert last Tuesday nite. Apparently Gwen's costumes and stage performance were deemed too sexy for the Malaysian public. These people claimed that it was inappropriate for youths to mix "freely" and watch such an ungodly stage show. It was believed that attending the concert will cause moral decay among Malaysian youths. Unfortunately, for some reason God who is omnipotent could not stop the tour, so as usual the same group of people absolutely had the moral duty and responsibility to intervene and try stop the show on God's behalf. Phuh!


Poor Gwen!! I really did wish that she shouldn't have succumbed to such nonsense and resorted to explaining herself and justifying the sort of person she really was.

Gwen, we love you and we all know that you're a nice and responsible girl, and your music and show were just artistic expressions of a very talented musician and entertainer.

Gwen Stefani

The Sweet Escape Tour

Stadium Putra

21 August 2007

Fable and I had decided to purchase the most expensive tickets (RM385) in anticipation that we would get good seats and enjoy the show. After all, we loved Gwen and it wasn't like you get to see her live frequently. But by the time I bought the tickets last month, the front 25 rows were already taken up. Wah, so laku! When we were seated, we were somewhere in the middle of the stadium liao. We still got a good direct view of the stage, but because the chairs were all placed on the flat floor, our view was somewhat blocked by people seated in front. But it didn't matter really, because when the lights dimmed and music started, everyone got excited and stood up. And stand we did.... till the end of the show!! And oh, we also stood up for a few minutes before the show started when the Negaraku was played. A bit strange and out of place, but I suppose it was one of the guidelines that Gwen had agreed to follow. Whatever la.

The show was great although the sound system was quite a disappointment. Gwen's performance and showomanship were excellent, albeit no skin was exposed (she duly complied with the ridiculous regulations by wearing black leotard underneath her crazy costumes). The stadium was packed, full house. Everyone was on their feet, jumping and dancing to her upbeat songs which were powerfully delivered by her great vocals and supported by eight equally crazy dancers.

The audience was mad, the screams were deafening, bodies moving around to the beat of the music uninhibited; everyone was just simply having a good time. I was screaming/cheering and singing most of the time. It was almost like a screaming/cheering competition. There was this strange girl who came and sat on Fable's chair halfway through. At one point, she looked at me when I screamed, and she smiled and then she also decided scream! A few girls behind me screamed and screamed and when we exchanged glances, we all smiled, and screamed even louder as we all nodded our heads in approval. Such madness!

At one point, Gwen ran by the side and towards the opposite end of the hall where the audience at the back were. She mingled with the crowd and held her hand up to let the audience touch her. How awesome is that! Aiya, how lucky these people are, paid the cheapest and got so close to her and even got to touch her hand! Cheh! Very emm kam muoan. So jealous!!! She stayed there a while longer as she sang Cool.

We spotted quite a few celebrities/TV personalities from where we were: Alex Yoong and his wife (Arianna Teoh?), Marion Caunter, a few people who dressed up and looked like celebrities, and of course this lady in the picture below. No prizes for guessing it right!

It was an unforgettably beautiful experience. A blast! But some people did believe that the whole thing was indeed sinful and against their God's wishes. I can almost hear them waving their finger in disapproval and condemnation at all 10,000 of us: Absolutely immoral!

Whatever! It was nonetheless, a Sweet Escape!

Very Sensitive Malaysians

I was horrified! I hope Gwen is not going to appear in a simple grandma top and hipster jeans on stage! I paid good money for the show and I expect colourful costumes and grand artistic stage performance.

“She will abide by the Malaysian authorities’ guidelines to ensure that her show will not be offensive to local sensitivities,” the statement said. Under the official guide to performing in Malaysia, a female artist must be covered from the top of her chest to her knees.
No jumping, shouting or throwing of objects onstage or at the audience is allowed. Performers cannot hug or kiss and their clothes cannot have obscene or drug-related images or messages.

This is stupid. I remembered a friend once said that previously, Mariah Carey, during her tour in KL a couple of years ago, purposely wore a simple top and jeans throughout her show and made sarcastic remarks about her the regulations that she had to abide. I reckon people who are overly sensitive about this kind of stuff should just not come and watch at all and spoil the atmosphere for other people. Just stay at home and read the bible or koran or whatever else that you read.

An Eye Opener

I arrived back to KL safely, after having spent almost 11 days on site. This was my third trip to the site, and I was dreading it. I hate being away for long periods, especially for sitework.

The facility where I worked is located in northwestern tip of Java Island, facing the Java Sea. The nearest town is Cilegon, approximately 2 hours drive via freeway from Jakarta to the west. My colleague and I stayed in Cilegon. A car and a driver had been arranged for us to take us to the site, which is a 45-minute drive on a very narrow bumpy and dusty rural road. I really do not understand why these foreign investors would want to build their petrochemical facilities in such a rural isolated place with such poor public infrastructure.

Java island is not a typical tropical island paradise. It is overpopulated, and is home to 120 million people, with a population density of over 2,000 people per square mile! In comparison, Peninsula Malaysia has a population density of only 330 people per square mile. Land in Java island is scarce, and is mainly used for the cultivation of rice and minor subsistence crops. Paddy fields dominate the landscape.... and people live in very small houses made of wood, clay and straw. It is very depressing to see that these people are so poor, with so little to live on every day. The inside of their houses are probably fairly empty. Most adults are unemployed and they can be seen hanging around by the road side, gazing blankly at the passing traffic, waiting for time to pass them by, or engaging in minor odd jobs.

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Why? Why is it that there are so many poor people who live in such a deplorable condition? Why, on the other end of the spectrum, are there filthy rich people? Why?

Is it because the rich have done something good in the past and thus are deserving of a good life? Is it because the poor was made to suffer because they have done something terrible in the past? But what about innocent children born into poor families? It seems to suggest that certain people are more deserving of a good life than others. But on what basis? Is this fair? Is this God's making? But God is supposed to be all-loving and good. From what I saw and realized, it appears as though there is no evidence of such. Dear God, why???