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Monday, 25 June 2007

My very own Discovery Channel

Here's how you could spend your Sunday sometime. I hopped onto the Monorail bound to the Golden Triangle last Sunday. I had the choice of hopping onto the bus, but decided against it, as I was not in the mood to feel like a foreigner in our malaysian bus. Just in case you have not noticed, lately, our public transportation systems have been congested with foreigners, that has nothing to do with the "Visit Malaysia Year".

It was a hot day. I stood in the queue waiting for the next monorail, after the one I've had it's door shut about 1 feet away from my nose, rolled off. It's amazing how the Public Transport could turn up late,at their convenient time, but do not make an exception to a passanger who was 3seconds late. I guess the driver have had a long day, and needed to have fun by slamming the door on people who frantically ran up the stairs just in time to catch the breeze from the slamming sliding door.

Some boys, about the age where they tend to sleep more to experience the newly discovered wet dreams,decided to get smart and cut the queue. I raised my right eyebrow, but kept my mouth shut,(which was pretty unusual). I went into the monorail only to find these grinning adolescents sitting comfortably on their victory seats, from cutting the queue. I chose to stand right in front of their faces and look at them, one after the other, with intentions to make them uncomfortable. Unfortunately, these scoundrels have trained themselves well and avoided eye contact at all time.

In came a family comprising of a lady carrying a child in her hands come the next stop. I waited for half a minute, (that is the longest time the longest ever a nerve from even the tallest person take to convey an electrical impulse from the foot to the brains), then told off the boy in front of me in my suprano voice, " Tak nak bangun jugak ke untuk mak cik ni? " .(translation: well, you're not going to give up the seat to even this lady?) Well, THAT worked better than staring at them!! There was an awkard silence, then, as if some bee had bitten one of the boys' scrotum, he stood up to offer the lady a seat. The lady too, for whatever reason I can't think of, felt embarassed and refused the seat. And I remember thinking, "aiyoo kak oi..jangan la kasi gua malu...".(translation: please don't make me embarrased now..) Miraculously,the boy insisted the lady to take up his seat. The lady, with the "malu tapi mahu" attitude, finally took the seat.

It felt soooo gooooood. Now I know how Bart Simpson felt when he sang,"oh why..does it feel so gooooood, to be so baaaaad.. I know it's meaaan,to feel goooood, to be so baaaad..ya shouda heard her screaaaam..". Well, somebody had to do the dirty job of teaching the next generation a bit of civics, in case their parents, or the education system had faild them. Or perhaps they were snoozing in class or when their parents were nagging, to have failed to pick up some good manners. I mean, like I said, this age they fancy sleeping a lot...

Reached Sungai Wang and I felt famished. Two words was in my mind,"Food.Fast" I can bet you Colonel Saunders had the same experience of telling off little boys and felt good then hungry, when he got this idea of Kentucky francais. One thing amazing about malaysia, is the variety of food made available at almost 24hours a day. There are fast food, intermediate food and slow food. In case you're wondering, slow food is what you get if you eat at a joint run entirely by the malays, assuming such establishment can survive in KL. From the confused waiter, taking up your order then coming to and fro to tell you the food you ordered was not available, all the way to finally serving your prepared food to a customer who came in 45minutes after you, who was still waiting for the menu). How can anyone not miss Malaysia!!!

I ended up at the hot dog joint 1901, a small tucked in outlet sandwiched between Sg Wang and Lot 10. I must have been really starved, (and had transient amnesia because forgot about my sister, who was suppose to meet me in Sungai Wang) not to notice my surroundings. It was after my 6th bite of my hot dog that I heard a lady's voice calling for someone. I guess Fast Food means fast energy. I began noticing my surroundings. The voice came from this lady who was pointing her finger at a Mat Saleh passerby, making some comment regarding his pants and asking him where he purchased it. The confused looking white man, who was walking alone wearing an army patterned bermuda pants, responded politely to the lady, who sat with a group of one man and 2 other women. They spoke in English I presumed, because the fan was blowing onto my face and the whoozing sound dampened the frequency of their voices. I just caught hold of the key words ( I got good training from home because my dad kind of like speak muffled sentences as far as I can recall, and he still have full set of strong teeth mind you...)...They invited the Mat Salleh to join them at the table but he politely refused. I said "politely" because he had his right arms crossed over his chest and bowed a little, something like our under utilized official Visit Malaysia greeting. Obviously the poor mat saleh haven't been long enough in malaysia to know non of the malaysians greet each other that way. I can't help but think, that it would be interesting if he saw how 2 people from melaka greet each other ,"oi lahawau , celaka engkau!! Mana kau pergi lama tak nampak kelibat? Binawey..."

Back to the story. By now, just as insiduous as the uptake of the sugar supply into my bloodstream seeping from my fast food to my brains, I realized, that out of the 5 tables occupied at the 1901 joint, I was the only one, sitting down there with actual hot dog, a bottle of mineral water ( to flush down the junk food fast through the system)without a cigarette in her hand and haven't the faintest idea how to speak tagalog.

Next thought..oh fffff.....#@*k...So this is how these Filipinos pick up men. I've so far only heard rumours going around. I've never taken rumours seriously,until now. The next thought, double f#@*$#k!! I look like a Filipino, clad in my worn out jeans with my hair tied up into a ponytail!!! What was I thinking!! I should have known better. I mean, how ironic can it get? A "hot dog" joint!! Where else more suggestive than a hot dog joint, condusive for these Filipino ladies to pick up mat sallehs!!! I gobbled my food in a hurry, and thought, it's bad enough I swallow my food instead of eating them on my busy days at work, now I had to swallow food on my day off too. Just then my sister gave me a call. Instead of my usual "hello", I greeted her with," I'm at the 1901 hot dog joint, come save me before I get caught in the police raid"

While waiting for my lunch to be gobbled up, and my sister to come save me, I kept observing and I somehow rather became intrigued by their method of "fishing" for men. Even the one man sitting there would try to make contact with the Mat Sallehs passing by. They do it in an unsuspected manner, always trying to strike an innocent conversation first. The weird part was they only harrassed the Europeans. What an insult to the Asian men!!! Not all Asian men are God fearing people!! Most just hide it from society very well,that's all. That is why our prostitutes, oops, sex workers, work at night, in the dark corners to cater for our local men. A thought crossed my mind. It would be fun if they had harrassed one of those nasty Arab thugs that look like Europeans!! They'll get more than what they bargained for then, and the ladies would stick to their maid post after all.

My sister joined me, just as I was beginning to enjoy my observations. Then as we walked away from 1901, a malay man gave me "that look". I looked back at him and was tempted to say out loud," pesakit I kat pusat TB negara kan? Dah habis tak makan ubat?". ('re my ex patient from the tuberculosis hospital!! Have you completed your treatment?) But decided not to, as I do not want to spoil the shopping spree we were about to indulge. So I gave him on of my, "nak rasa terompah kat muka?" (would you like a shoe print on your face?) expression, and like a charm it worked.

So the rest of the day was spent shopping, no, I don't need new clothes, as I could still fit into the clothes I purchased 20 years ago. Rather, we went shopping at Low Yatt Plaza, in Jalan Imbi, behind Bukit Bintang Plaza. We got the important stuff, only this place could offer, "ciplak" computer and handphone accessories. It was amazing how this chinese man changed my proclaimed "original" phone case within 10 minutes ( It'll take 2days and RM300 to do that at the Nokia Care - not very caring laaa). Apparently, Low Yat no longer sell "ciplak" (pirated) softwares etc due to regular raids from the authorities ( which i term as "auta- ritis"). But guess what? I still managed, with my "no, means can kau-tim one.." attitude which I picked up from my years in Pakistan, to purchase RM35 Office software that would have cost me 10fold more had I chose to become a law abiding citizen. I would use Bart's line again,"I didn't do it, nobody saw me do it, can't prove anything" should I get caught..Well, I was told you ain't a criminal until you get caught....SSSSYYYYYY....I was told that to find "ciplak" software, go to the Mines...that's where the illegal stuffs are sold currently....

I had a good day rediscovering part of Kuala Lumpur. It is one of the most humbling experience. I suggest, take one weekend, leave your comfortable car in the garage, and hop on the public transport to go the heart of Kuala Lumpur, and listen to it beating.......who may discover yourself instead...

Happy Father's Day to me...

I celebrated Father's Day, being a father too and all, with my daughter by going to a jazz performance. My daughter claimed that there was no point for her to organise any form of celebration for me on Father's Day, as I would end up paying for the whole occasion anyway. So it was better to not celebrate, it will ease the burden on my pocket. Hmm....sometimes children have more common sense than us, adults. Needless to say,I paid for the tickets. I guess I treated myself to Father's Day.

It was Michael Verappan performing live along with his three piece band. For those of you who have not heard of Michael Verapan, he happens to be one of our significant musicians here in Malaysia. Ever heard of Chick Chorea? Shame on you if you don't know Michael Verappan then, as he is nearly in the same class as Chick Chorea, and he is local, we should celebrate him even more so. I said almost because Chick Chorea can do that thing on the suprano part of the piano that makes one wonder whether his fingers are made of soft flexible rubber. I caught his (Chick Chorea's) performance sometime in March at the MPO ( Malaysian Philharmonic lah...) and it was "fantabulous" as my daughter would term something fantastic and fabulous. They all played contemporary jazz, more of fusion. Imagine Tudung Periuk played in chaotic arrangement that made beautiful sense to the ears. I can't help you if you are tone deaf, sorry.

He was accompanied by 2 others, Fly on the base (chelo) and Zahid Ahmad(he use to be the drummer for Shiela Majid). Michael, played the piano. They reminded me of the old jazz musicians, Oscar Petterson,same combo of instruments although these guys played the good old pure jazz, before the fusion. You know, the era of Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald,Nat King Cole and many more. If you are a fan of the conservative jazz, try to catch David Gomez, our very own local jazz pianist who happens to sing as good as play the piano.

Fly, as the name implies, looked very fly indeed. He has that cute face that makes any teenager suffer from dysfunctional uterine bleeding (irregular menses in lay men term ) secondary to hormone imbalance. I was glad,for at least my daughter was very much occupied with him caressing the chelo with a "syok sendiri" expression on his face, (actually at some point he looked like he was having problems emptying his bowel, of which he still manage to look fly) and not doze off halfway through the performance.

Zahid Ahmad was good on drums. I can't really tell how he looked like as 99.9% of his time on stage was spent with his face looking over the right side of his shoulder, away from audiences' gaze, and his eyes were completely shut. It was as effective as wearing a mask.

But you know what I like about jazz performances? As with Chick Chorea, they all wore simple short sleeve shirts, sometimes floral, like they just landed from Hawaii, but without the tan. So easy going. Simple jeans/pants, simple shoes. The only branded stuff that they flared were their talents. Absolutely remarkable.

Unlike our Dewan Philharmonic Malaysia,where there are strict dress code to adhere to, jazz concerts are more enjoyable to attend partly because of the less stringent dress code. That is the only thing I hate about going to MPO performances, the fact that I have to dress up and look like actual human being. The crowd could get so up market, maintaining the well mannered ambiance, so much so, I have problems releasing gas whitout being detected,( I normally could get away with it in a crowded elevator) or let a tear of joy escape without smearing the mascara that was non water resistance ( the water resistance takes ages to wipe off) or even scratch myself (funny how I almost always feel itchy at embarassing places to scratch, when in public). Oh well!! You know what they say, "to itch is human, to scratch is devine".

Thanks to Fly, my daughter did not fall asleep during the whole 1 and a half hour performance. Her snore may not blend into any melody. Me, I have this long term love relationship going on with jazz. People in love do not fall asleep during a hot date(some just do after sex most my depressed patients told me)

I may have to fork out money to pay for my own celebration of Father's Day, but the lovely experiece I gained, priceless....

Thursday, 21 June 2007

Does size really matter?

If you've driven long enough in KL, you'd realise, you can actually categorize the type of cars and the type of drivers.

My passion in describing cars and the drivers would definitely begin with the Kancil. Now, if you analyse closely, you can see that there are two types of drivers driving this cute but can be really toothache annoying piece of machine. There are those with "P"s sticking on the top left of the rear window, and there are those without. I hardly find men driving Kancil with "P"s. Perhaps men would prefer to be caught by authorities rather than caught dead driving with a "P" sign, which probably may injure their ego rather than anything else. It's still okay,if one gets caught by our local "datuk", well, you know what they say about,"malaysia boleh.....boleh kiraaaa"

If you happen to be stranded behind a woman driving a Kancil with a "P", I suggest you do not wait a minute longer, give the signal and overtake, make sure leave her at least 200 meters behind. Why? Because even 1 minute longer you spent behind this car may trigger a series of irritating events.

First, they may be going at a speed of anti-lightning,on the rightmost lane, not worried about the cars behind, building up into trailers, leaving you aggitated. Trying to overtake may be difficult, for they sometimes seem to be quite inconsistent with the speed. It's as though the car comes with an "over take" detector whereby automatically, these bloody cars speed up when someone tries to overtake them. I suggest, if you happen to get caught behind a Kanchil with a woman slightly faster than the kereta lembu, hang whatever you learn in driving school, assuming you did learn something and did not obtain "kopi O" licence, overtake her from the left if you have to. Because if she is daft enough not to think that she is holding up traffic with her bad sense of geography on the road, chances are very high for her to be obtuse with the flashing of highlights, honking and following closely on purpose with intentions to intimidate.

If the lady is wearing tudung, most likely this whole scenario will take place at a turtle's pace,driving you mad when you're already late for work. Most malay ladies have this "tak pe lah" attitude, demanding the public to symphatize with their incompetency in driving.(Most Malay women are brought up thinking all men are much superior and something is wrong with them if they are competent and self sufficient) Notice how most, I am not saying all, malay lady drivers would drive like " daaaa..", not a care in the world, expecting the world to take care of them on the road. They may not get involved in any accident ( not much damage from impact from a turtle's pace) but they sure as hell can cause other's to trash into each other !!!!

There are also, if you happen to notice, the type of ladies in Kancil, with that prim and proper hairdo. You know, the hair "ironed",or "rebonded" straight like the spagetti,not a single strand of hair out of place. They will be very much in vogue posture, and can't seem to turn their head at any angle , a requirement for driving cars efficiently. These drivers are as bad as the other drivers. Most will drive as equally irritating as the people I described earlier. Please, do yourself a favor and overtake them.

Another worse case scenario would be driving behind a woman in Kancil with a sticker at the back window that says,"thou shall spread love and tolerance to the world". You can't decide whether to get irritated with the driving, or the driver, or yourself for being unreligious.

Then there are men who drives the Kancil. There are two kinds. One, are the normal kind, probably a middle aged bloke or a retiree who's had their hormones stabilized. Or perhaps they've wrecked enough cars in their puberty lives to only afford a Kancil at present. These are good, well mannered drivers that makes you have faith that not all JPJ personnel are corrupted.

Then there are the close encounter with the undefined kind. I don't know whether this has happened to you before, but it did happened to me. I was driving when I heard this loud F1 engine roaring, coming closer by the seconds. I turned to look into the overhead mirror, only to find a little Kancil, a man with a cap driving it, trying to look like one of the Shumacker brothers.

Obviously the Kancil had undergone engine transplant or tempering. Do you not notice them? These are the worse kind of drivers. They actually think it is cool to drive like someone who has a kidney stone squeezing through their penile urethral tract, rushing to the hospital... I can't help but wonder if it is the caps that are responsible for the reckless driving, for my experience in the medical world, it is those whos brains are deprived of oxygen that may act like a fly just being sprayed by Ridsect. Perhaps they wore their caps on to tight.(or jeans too tight, if it is the other head)

Then there are other issues regarding Kancil. It it the most blamed car for raising false hope for a parking spot. I'm sure many have gotten tricked by this sneaky little car. It's anti-mirage ( you actually don't visualize the kancil until it's too late, loosing the parking spot you gave up for the car behind you, thinking you're doing your civic minded bit, only to find a Kancil tucked comfortably into that particular space you planned to park!!!) And it makes you envious to see how they somehow rather manage to squeeze their way into the most scarce parking slots.

Kancil therefore, if driven like how a normal human being who had passed their mental fitness test drives, are your best bet to purchase if you're driving in town. But beware!! When big bad lorries passes by, Kancils may get sucked underneath the lorries' tyres. Furthermore, somehow rather, the road bullies seem to pick a liking on these minute cars.That is why Kancil, as the name suggests
( from the malaysian folklore, it is a small but smart creature) have no choice but to be smart on the road. Of course, let me not start on the road bullies. That is definitely another story.

Well folks. Join me same time same place next week, whereby I plan to bitch about the type of cars, even in my longest dreams, I can't afford. If you are driving a Kancil, try not to drive like you have this inferiority complex.(something like what they say about short guy,was it,tall ego? ) People don't really care the size of the car, rather, the size of the brains of the driver. At the end of the day, the driving is what really matters...

Tuesday, 19 June 2007

My Series of Unfortunate Events

Ever had one of those weird days that you thought you would only read on the LAT cartoon strips?

Today morning, I threw the house key to my daughter, only to have it thrown overboard, and it ended up on the rooftop. My golf pro frequently reminded me to control my power shots, and I think I am beginning to see why. We had to get a ladder to save the key and the house owner,namely me, from distress. I was a little uncomfortable having to show off my bottom to my neighbours across the road. I hope it will not impose distress in their marriages. You know how jealous insecure some wives can get. I begin to wonder,as I ran my hands around to try and locate the keys, whether it was my weird lifestyle of showing off my sacred assets that made two of my former neighbour shift? Hmmmm.......And, of course,distress because I was already late for work. You know how it is. It's life, pulling a prank on you. You're late, and something almost always happen to delay things up even futher, making you from a just a teeny weeny late, to "oh f...k me I am bloody mother late". Not that swearing will ever turn the whole situation around, but I suppose, it did release my brain tension, probably prolonged my lifespan by 5mins (who's to know anyway )

Breakfast then. Stood there while waiting for the mamak to cook my order, which was roti canai. ( I don't practice what I preach by the way , who can eat oats every morning, yukh!!). Back to the mamak now. I was staring at the roti in the making, my mind was in Shrek's Land of Far Far Away.It's a habit that I have. I remember my specialist teasing me, "sharifah, staring at the patients private part is not going to bring his blood pressure up". This was during training, and I remember I answered,"that's because it's just a the manequin".

Again, back to the mamak who by now, thought I was awed by his roti canai making skills. That was when he decided to show off. He swung the roti high up in the air, just like the maneuver we see in the roti canai contest. The sudden change of gesture perked me back to the present , just in time to catch him gazing up the ceiling, by now, trying to look like it was the ceiling's fault that the roti canai never landed back on his hands. I was torn between which event was funnier, the whole roti canai lost in twilight zone bit, or the expression on his face. He wore this expression, which was more like, the boo boo he did was part of the whole act, whereby the roti was suppose to get stuck there and fall down an hour later.

I, on the other hand, was trying my best not to embarass him even more, which was quite a difficult task. We never did exchange so much as a smile after that. I paid for my takeaway breakfast, just dying to get to a spot where I could release at least a giggle.

It's now lunch time. I have yet another 11 hours to witness any more weird events, so that I could declare today, as the day of series of unfortunately events....Hopefully, if ever they occur, they will be funny rather than spooky.

Saturday, 16 June 2007

Ahoy there me maitees Malaysians over board!!!

My friends from overseas, (some of them laaa) were surprised with the news of our Prime Minister's re-marriage. Why? You didn't think he can still get it up ah?
Men-no-pause laaa.... For the benefit of my friends who are,as I am writing this, deprived of roti canai, satay,teh tarik,tosey, char kuey teow,mamak stall ambiance with talk of politics charging the sticky hot air, and many other dishes, responsible for the annual increase of the pants size, the "laa-s" at the end of each sentence,(oh! I could go on and on...) here's an update on malaysian scenario(my version of it anyway - I'll try to express them without getting booked into ISA, you guys just read between the line lah )

Yes, Pak Lah remarried. He married Endon's sister in law, who took care of Endon during her time of need before passing her last breath. She is, was, rather, a widow,( if my secret source was not drunk, taking me for a ride) and a Filipino by race. Unfortunately, few days after the wedding, instead of having to attend to his flooded matrimonial bed,he had to sort out the flash flood that hit Kuala Lumpur on 10th June 2007. The reason why I stated the year 2007, is because, at the exact same date, but in the year 2003, Kuala Lumpur suffered the same tragedy. Perhaps Mother Nature is sending us a message, a strong one. My only regret is that none of the Mat Rempits got their motorcycle washed away by the current, or burried by the thick mud. I am eagerly waiting for Karam Singh Wallia to update me with his version of KL flood and his latest pantuns. Haaa..aren't we true Malaysians, a hopeless malay learning pantun from a Bhai...woit! tereeeyyyy...

Mother nature's messages:

Message #1 : It is still okay to get married at the age of 70. Just make sure you
take care of yourself and not get heart diseases so that at least
if your physiological body fail you, the viagra can safely be
used without you dying from heart attack. Tips : practice with your
partner the types of scream to differentiate between that of ultimate
pleasure, and ultimate cry for help.

Message #2 : JT (Justin Timberlake laa you old boring people...haiyaaa...) is
right. What goes around, comes around, and he was not talking
about no boomerang either. You polute your environment, your
environment strikes back, larger in scale as compared to that of the
Empire.....( may the force be with him)

Message #3 : The cronnies will probably have long lives to see their sins paid.
I doubt if they have any conscience in them, but just in case
somewhere along they way, they decide to adapt one, then I
think they should let the big boys handle the big projects,the one
with the real qualifications, not some big shot's uncle's
neighbour's wife's son in law.

Otherwise, Badawi is still the PM, albeit, it would have sounded funnier had it been Dr Mahathir instead. Anwar Ibrahim is still trying to climb up Badawi's ass,a little tricky now that Badawi had remarried. Oil price, tepung price was up, in keeping with Badawi's "keep his up" policy. I think Viagra's price would be up too, since PM's remarriage. Sami Velloo is still as hilarious as ever. His latest joke was regarding JKR having nothing to do with the flash flood in KL.

I suspect that the General Election will take place as soon as Altantuya's case recites. For those who have seen "Wag the Dog", you can definitely read between these lines. For those who have no idea who Altantuya is, she's the Mongolian model who was blown up to pieces,far more finer than that of any jigsaw puzzle.(no wonder people blow up evidences, I can't even put together my daughter's
Winnie the Pooh Jigsaw Puzzle when she was 4).. The escape goat this time happenned to be the polical analyst, Abdul Razak Baginda. I'm sure, by now, no parents would allow any of their children to pick Political Analyst as their ambition.

Rumours has it that it was Najib, or rather his closest brother ( the one attached between his legs) instigated the whole drama that would make the afternoon telenovela on our local channel look nothing more than the minyak cap kapak advertisment. More rumours has it that Najib, Razak Baginda and Altantuya's father had some undercover subversive purchase of submarines, of which all were suppose to gain. There are also rumours saying it was Rosmah who blew the gal into pieces. Some say, had Rosmah did a good job "blowing" her husband, (in a non violence sense of it),instead of blowing into the microphones during her many kara-o-key parties she hosted (wonder where all that money came from), all these unnecessary drama could have been avoided.(assuming the rumours are true lah kan) With all this thick plots, it's no wonder Karpal Singh has taken post of the prosecuting team. Only a Bhai's nose,here in malaysia,is big enough to detect the foul smell of politics. May the force be with him.

Today, the Star portrayed Najib's photo on front page, wiping his tears after giving a speech during the opening of "Tun Abdul Razak's Legacy to National Development" seminar, organized by Akademi Pemuda at the Sime Darby Conventional Centre. His father, had he been alive, would have cried him a river, had he known that his son was involved in the rumour of being responsible in the "maju ke depan" of a Mongolian model.(Oh yes,the only method of contraception that offers 100% protection is abstinence)

But I can bet you my bottom dollar, this case file, as any case involving politicians, will end up in government's own X-Files,beside Rafidah's, and many other's files.

So remember folks, if your kids want to get filthy rich, encourage them to become either a Hollywood star like Dato' Michelle Yeoh, or a Malaysian Politician. Discourage them to become a political analyst.....

Friday, 15 June 2007


I sent off wishes of "Happy Father's Day" to my friends last week, one week before the actual celebration date,as usual, living up to my scatter brain title. The only date I remember is probably my daughter's birthday, that too because she makes sure I remember it everyday, 6 months before it. As I am a widow, now, I no longer have to remember even my last date of menstruation. A perk I guess. (soon,there will be no menses, needless to remember when they come and when they go..)

A few friends replied back, wishing me, "Happy Father's Day". I was touched. I am a single parent. I have to admit it can get really tough at times, playing a double role of a mother and a father simultaneously. I cannot imagine how the hermaphrodites do it(except the DIY sex part I guess :-> )

Well,I can do a sloppy job,but one have to remember that you have to be nice to your kids,since they may be the one picking up which old folks home you'll stay in some unlucky day sometime in the future.

Yes, it is tough if you set your standards high in the upbringing of your children. But God!, for me it is rewarding ( far, I may think otherwise once she becomes an official teenager, a synonym for "pain in the arse")

There are times when I feel like I have failed my daughter, that i am unable to provide her the father any child needs in his/her growing years. That's when I'd wish they'd sell a father off the counter,without prescription,at the supermarkets(if so, I'd look forward to the "buy one, get one free" promotion ). But as everyone knows, life does not always turn out the way we plan. Otherwise, I would have been Mrs Brad Pitt, instead, a Mrs Pitted.

I guess, in a way,I have been doing a good job so far. My daughter had gone fishing, camping,cycling, jungle tracking with me not to mention learn how to shave from me(well, that's what fathers do best). Did I miss anything? Everyday, I pray that, even if i f....k up, let it be not too damaging an impact.

Sometimes, when a guy asked me out on a date, she'd be the one fussing over what I should wear,over my hairdo, my shoes, in all excitement."Ummi, that black dress make you look skinny"(I AM skinny) or "that lipstick is too red, you don't wan't him to think you want him to kiss you on the first date".(Oh! But I do..but that's another story..). The make over service comes with tips on how to woo a guy. Can you believe it? My daughter teaching me how to woo a guy. (Of course she doesn't have any idea what mommy would be up to, on her time off from parenthood...)

Ah well...Fatherhood.... Frankly, I need some steroids to keep up with the machoism many a time. There are moments when I felt jaded. It can get tiring,really, holding two post at a time ( It's like a housewife having an extramarital affair...its energy draining...).But somehow rather, I recover my energy again everytime I look at those little hopefull eyes. I believe, when a father look at his child, he may feel like a miracle is staring back at him. He may wonder, "what the hell I did right to deserve this?"...I hope all fathers do. Because being a father to my child, that is exactly how I feel...It's euphoric...

And for you kids out there, don't give your father too hard a time. Especially if your parent is single, give them a break, as they are only trying their best.

"HAPPY FATHER'S DAY" to all fathers and mothers who are fathers too......

Wednesday, 13 June 2007

The First Urine

I saw an interesting patient today. She had conjunctivitis (sakit mata laaa..). I learned something amazingly new, from her, something modern medicine have yet to prove. She claimed that her parents insisted that smearing the first urine over the effected eyes will just about cure the red eyes. Hmhhh....Amazing. Maybe that is why the older generation do not get sore eyes. Or maybe they do, but they don't bother seeking medical treatment, hence, no data for statistics to show they have suffered such conditions. It's just like when I ask a patient if they have hypertension or diabetes etc. I am smarter now to ask if they actually bother to check with any doctor. And when I get "no" for an answer, I'd bombard them with my standard question, one I'd utter even if I sleepwalked and came to work, "Kalau pak cik tak periksa, macamana pak cik tau pak cik tak dak kencing manis atau darah tinggi?...

We Malaysians are very fond of believing the unbelievably illogical non logic myth (the redundant sentence is created on purpose to reiterate my exaggeration to the matter). Stop and think for a second. Had the body needed the excess urea in the body, why bother urinate it in the first place?

Once I had a lady who came in with complaint of feeling bloatedness, and insisted that she, "kena buatan orang", and her tummy felt "keras". I examined her bloated tummy,indeed, it was "keras" then tested her urine and came to a diagnosis, "Kak, kak memang kena buatan orang kak....kak mengandung 5 bulan"....(I love my sense of humour...the kakak on the other hand, was not too amused, she was 48 years old )

Why oh why! Why do people like to think that every all unexplained conditions are related to the supernatural? Is it because, they like to take short cuts in the thinking process? Blamimg the unknown is more convenient rather than having to understand how smoking could actually cause our blood to thicken hence the blood clot hence the heart attack or stroke.

When we get lost in the jungle, people always say that it would most likely be due to the "other being's deception". Even if there are other "beings" , I think they have got better things to do, than to mislead people in the jungle. Whatever for? Turn us all into their slaves? Could it be that most of us go into the jungle with non proper attire, leading to hypothermia, hence impaired judgment leading to us making the wrong turn in the jungle? Think about it...I know because my experience in jungle tracking in Irau, almost cost us a few lives, because the boys who went up tracking wore singlets, trying to show off their arm muscles (most people with small brains, show off their muscles to i was told...) , and it rained. They were blue halfway down back to the camp. Thank god for my aluminium blanket, which came in handy to keep them warm ( I would have kept the blanket had the victims of cold weather looked like George Clooney though....insist on body to body heat transmission ). Hypothermia vs Orang Bunian...hmmm...Poor orang bunian, blamed for the offence they've never committed...

I know why. Our society lack the habit of reading. We are comfortable with being ignorant about many issues. "what we don't know won't hurt us". "Ignorance is bliss". Well, if we're talking about not knowing our husband is doing FRCS
( means "Fellowship Royal College or Surgeon" to the doctors, and it can be "F....king Round Country Side" too...) , then I guess, ignorance is bliss. But for most cases, we need to adapt to the Mafias' "go to the matress" attitude, err, in the non prostitute sense of it ). It simply means, kill the problem before the problem kills you. How do we do that? By knowing. How can anyone know anything? By experience, learning through reading.

" He who knows not and knows not he knows not,
- he is a fool; shun him,
He who knows not and knows he knows not,
- he is child; teach him,
He who knows and knows not he knows;
- he is asleep; wake him
He who knows and knows he knows;
- he is wise; follow him "

Tuesday, 12 June 2007

UNAGI anyone?

Pah Nor had her first encounter with unagi today. I think she was a little apprehensive of the thing because it was eel. So in way of explanation, here is how the unagi ia prepared.

And here is a site that explains a bit more on how its eaten. :-)


I was out jogging in one of the most well preserved track in Lembah Kelang yesterday evening. It is but my favourite track, walking through secondary-primary jungle gives me the cardiovascular workout I need, as well as a piece of mental serenity. Indeed, you have to experience walking through this fantastic path to know what I am talking about.

Halfway up the slope, between my huffing and puffing, I was acquainted with an elderly man, who brought his, grandchildren I presume, for a nature walk. By the time I was 10 feet away from them, there were a group of monkeys enveloping the keen nature lovers. The reason for the small gathering was made clear to me as they got within my visual focus, I was quite displeased to see them feeding the monkeys. I remember wondering whether they were illiterate, as the sign at the starting point of the track read,
“ Please do not feed the monkeys”. I was quite sure that there must have been incidences in the past that lead to the erection of the signboard. No establishment would like to waste paint and board, or pay handsomely to the signboard makers unless there is a reason behind it.

I smiled at him as I stopped to allow the monkeys catch the food and reminded him of the signage. The answer I got was, “I know, but pity the monkeys. They haven’t got anything to eat”. I glanced at the kuih bangkit held in his grasps and cannot help but wonder, are we teaching the monkeys’ taste buds to appreciate junk food? Are monkeys’ digestive system able to tolerate whatever it is that the human define as “food” ? Clearly, humans don’t eat grass, and cows don’t eat bak kut teh. There is a physiological reason behind it. Feeding the monkeys could therefore, cause them to be sick. So much, for feeling sorry for them.

I was quite tempted to convince him that the monkeys probably have a better quality of life, as compared to us humans. For starters, the monkeys don’t have to pay tax, something for the human, is as certain as death, or for women, as impending as their menopause. They get food from natural resources, not smeared with pesticides or tampered with hormones. They do not need to take up loan and buy vehicles to transport them to point A from point B. They do not need to take up loan from the bank just to get married, in fact, there is no such ceremony exists, as all they need to do is sniff each other and if the pheromones are right, just conjugate and get on with life. No marriage means no divorce. No feeling of disheartenment or feeling like a looser that plans did not work out the way that was intended. For female monkeys, they needn’t bother shaving every day, such a drag. Most importantly, the monkeys do not have to put up with dirty politicians, spare them the heartache of being lied to.

For those who have time to flick to Channel 50 (National Geography) or Animal Planet, you would envy the life of a monkey. They swing around from branch to branch, eat and sleep where they like. No schedule to keep. No care in the world, except who’s picking on who’s lice, should they eat those lice or save them later for the next snack time. Of course, sometimes they get killed by other animals, especially the Homo sapiens, but at least it is seldom their own kind who terminate their lives, unlike us human who kill our fellow species in bulks, without having our conscience so much as tickled.

If ever reincarnation is true, I would like to be born as a monkey in my next life. I’d be more happier I guess. So remember, when we look at those monkeys and feel sad for them,and when they look back with sadness in their eyes, they may just as well, they're probably feeling sorry for us, of course, they have more reasons to be...

Monday, 11 June 2007

The fun things Malaysians do

I found this online today. Long ago, I remember the left wingers at Uni protesting that Malaysia canes people for various offences, particularly drug related ones. Then when I spoke to various individuals in the community, I found that most of the people I spoke in the non-university community actually agreed with the move. Some said, "serves them right". For the most part, I realized that they had no idea, apart from vague descriptions, of what the caning process looks like. MUch less feels like. so here's a sample for those who would like a clearer idea. The guy in the picture was undergoing a ten year sentence with 20 strokes of the cane (said in the beginning).
Don't watch if you are squemish or don't feel inclined to.

Saturday, 9 June 2007

Islam and Muslims in today's world, a comment by Tony Blair

It was one of those cool mornings that looked like it was going to last all afternoon. I was sitting in the clinic reading The Straits Times, feeling rather smug that I got to do all this on the time I was getting paid RM30 an hour. On the section of Saturday Forum, there, feasted upon my sleepy eyes, an article written by non other then the retiring Prime Minister of Britian, Tony Blair. The article touched me and I thought I'd share some points with you. I suppose, the Iraq Occupation had taught many people , eye opening lessons.

Some of the extracts goes,

" When I have met groups of Muslims, especially younger ones, of course the normal issues about foreign policy arise. But the predominant complaint is about how they believe their true faith is constantly hijacked and subverted by small, unrepresentative groups who get disporportionately large amounts of publicity.
It is the way of the modern media world that what counts is impact.
I ask people to listen to the distinguished scholars and religious leaders - the authentic voices of Islam.
The voices of extremism are no more representative of Islam than the use, in times gone by, of torture to force conversion to Christianity represents the true teaching of Christ.
In doing this, there is another purpose: to reclaim from extremists, of whatever faith, the true essence of religious belief.

.............................The problem between faiths and communities, as too often in life and in politics, is not where there is disagreement about decisions: but where there is misunderstanding about motives. .............
.........But the point is this: the need to explain to the world: Islam's common roots with Judaism and Christianity, how it began, how it developed, how far removed it is, from the crude and warped distortion of the extremists. Where there is ignorance, there is distrust, and sometimes hatred. Understanding is a great healer.
It is hot about gevernments lecturing the Muslim world, or our Muslim communities. It is rather time to take the opportunity to listen: to hear Islam's true voice: to welcome and appreciate all those who believe in a world where religious faith is respected because faiths respect each other as well as those of no faith: and are prepared in holding to their own truth, not to disrespect the truth clear to others "

Coming from someone who is partly responsible for the Iraq Occupation, I feel that he sincerely have learned a lesson from the decision he made in Iraq, of which he claim to have been made in the best interest of Great Britian. The Muslims too, must learn from this whole ordeal. We have to look within ourselves, where have we gone wrong. It takes two to tango.
They say that history repeats itself. In the case of Iraq, it is a deja vous to the "100years war between Christians and Muslims"...Using force against Islam will give rise to more terrorism,in retaliation to the instigating terrorism act, as clearly the invasion of Iraq is a form of consented terrorism. An eye for an eye..there will be no end to vendettas...I cannot help but wonder, how much wealth a certain party gets out of the arms sales, and of course, oil. It has never always been about religion when people go to war, it is almost always about the well hidden agenda that involves power and money, using Faith as an excuse. Any Faith, do not allow any form of destruction or oppression, in order to progress. Otherwise, why bother sending prophets to preach and teach love amongst humans. Just order the Prophets to gather an army, then invade and spread religion. History has proven over and over, that only the era after the Prophets, will there be such methods used, of course using religion as an excuse to feed human greed for power, money and territory. Greed, is religions' most worst enemy.

I feel that the war in Iraq unleashed men's greatest cruelty by both parties, as in any war. No other creature on earth have killed their own kind as bigger in magnitude as men have achieved.

There is no victory in any war but there are lessons to be learned. America and allies,with their bigotry and their own political agenda backed by the Jews lack the understanding of Islam. It was so obvious when one Bhai fella got shot in , was it carlifornia, I can't remember, because he was wearing a turban and was mistaken for a muslim. The Muslims on the other hand,are surprised by the number of extremists that exist. Politicians and idealists may think that sometimes, war is necessary, but I truly doubt that they may feel the same way had they themselves, or their siblings have to go to war. Prince Harry was forbidden to enter Iraqi soil despite vigorous training. Why is his life more valuable than the ordinary army going to war, or the lives of the civillians who died during the search for weapon of mass destruction?

I believe it is time for the all faiths to decipher the true meaning of religion, that they have the same intentions for the human species and that they require a lot of respect towards each other. At their roots,all religion to me, are the same. Had earnest practice of religion not been seperated from politics, in a process called sacularism, I feel, the world would probably be a better place and Earth would not have to witness men's cruelty. And by non sacular, I sincerely do not mean PAS. I think PAS have missed the whole point of a religion. I dare say that because if any leader could come up with a statement saying that women are raped because they use perfume and lipstick, they are simply victimizing the victims. No true leader will ever do that, even because of the lack of understanding.

Yes, for each war, there are lessons to be learned. But humans are absent minded creatures. We forget the lessons, making history lessons pointless. Maybe that is why history actually repeats itself.

I remember a strip from the cartoon "Calvin and Hobbes" . Calvin said," there are intelligent life forms out there somewhere in the universe. The reason why we have not sighted one yet is because they are far more intelligent,intelligent enough to avoid us"....

Friday, 8 June 2007

BaPak Lah ku kawin lagi......

Badawi's announcement of marrying again is well accepted by most Malaysians. Unfortunately, there are still people who thinks that it is very unbecoming for a person of that age to re-marry. I feel sad for such people with such thoughts. Marriage is not about sex. It is about companionship,love and understanding (and sex, with lesser frequency and a lot of medical aid). I think it's sweet that two old people made the decision to spend the rest of their remaining lives together,for the second time. So sweet, it is giving me the toothache. They are so lucky indeed. Gives me a little hope that perhaps someday, I may find someone to spend the rest of my menopausal life with. (Definitely someone who could put up with my temperament!!! Imagine me with my mood swings during menopause. aduh!! Mas kahwin ku jatuh lagi...)


Not of any great importance but still it hogged the headlines for a couple of days. The PM is getting married.
There's a joke being passed on the SMS. It says, "The country is waiting for the PM to announce the next elections, instead he announced his next erection".
Amazingly, I have spoken to a few people who missed the point.

Monday, 4 June 2007

Meet Dr House....I wish...

Everyone almost always have a bad day every once in a while, even more so when you're aproaching menopause. One that make Mondays feel like expletives are unnecessary..The worse would be having a PMS induce Monday or rather Mournday Blues. A recipe for weapon of mass destruction I dare say. These are the days when people around tend to avoid me like the plague.

Oh yes.. I remember these types of days only too well. As a doctor, I felt like Dr House every time I am in this mood. For those of you who think Dr House is a doctor who offers house visits, I suggest you hold on before resuming reading this article, drop into the nearest movie shop, and get original or ciplak version of House, whichever turns you on. You will enjoy the DVD and my article much better by doing so.

Secretly, I suspect most doctors wish they are Dr House. He is above all, a genius diagnostician. Cynical is his middle name, Miserable, his alias. I’ll let you in to a little secret. Sometimes, when I am with a patient, on my bad day, what I may say to my patient sounds like a politician selling rhetoric 6months before General Election.

Sometimes, it goes like this ………..

Patient : Doctor. I feel a little below the weather today

My thoughts : I know, it’s a bloody Monday, how can anyone not feel like passing out bricks.

But I said : Tell me about it then.

Patient : I’m having this throbbing headache.

My thoughts : You don't say.. After two days of rest? Amazing. What did you do? Did Yoga and had your head stuck in between your legs while doing the Praising The Sun thingy?

But I said : Can you describe the pain to me?

Patient : The whole head feels like its got a heart pumping in it.

My thoughts : Maybe it does. I know you. Always sick on Mondays,Fridays,Hari Wilayah and Hari Gawai.Maybe you don’t have any Grey Matter in that skull of yours, that explains the occupancy of muscle tissue substituting the void. You must really hate your job. Your boss must hate you.

But I said : Did you get enough sleep last night?

Patient : Absolutely.

My thoughts : Yeah right.How do you explain the dark circles under that tricky eyes?

But I said : You look tired though. Did you go somewhere this weekend, perhaps a long time under the sun, golfing?

My thoughts again: You’ve probably fried that muscle mass in between your ears.

Patient : Actually, I just came back from Johor Baru last night. There was this long traffic jam from Muar to Kota Tinggi. A lorry overturned and blah..blah….blah…

My thoughts : My God…look at the amount of make up she’s put on? How insecure can a woman get? Is her husband having an affair with a younger woman? Or another man perhaps? Naaaa...definitely with a younger woman. She’d come in with a sliced vein otherwise.
Patient : blah..blah..blah…blah…

My thoughts : Or perhaps its her habit of nagging. It’s been 45seconds and she’s still going on and on about the trafic jam. Maybe I can shove a thermometer into her mouth. That'll give me silence for a couple of minute.

Patient : Blah….blah…blahh..

My thoughts : Oh your story sound so touchy but it sounds just like a lie…( I was beginning to hear Nat King Cole serenading).

Patient : So what do you think? Doc?

My thoughts : Oh shit!! Busted!!

I said : I don’t understand what you mean. Can you please explain to me again,the end bit, please?

My thoughts : The hell I’m going to hear a rerun of the tragedy of lorry driver high on drugs!!!!

Patient : I have a friend who had similar symptoms. They found an aneurysm in his brain vessel. Do you think I may be having one?

My thoughts : You should. You’d finally earn the MC.

But I said : Unlikely. The probability of two people who know each other suffer from a rare disease is as remote as having most of bureaucrats free from corruption. So don’t worry. Aneurysm is not contagious.

I threw in a fake smile, so I’d get away with being rude, instead a clown.

Patient : But I looked up in the internet and they say that the chances of getting an aneurysm currently is increasing.

My thoughts : Here we go again. You’re giving me an aneurysm in my butt veins lady!!!Maybe I’ll make her happy if I insist she’s got a brain tumor.
Wait…she can’t be having a brain tumor. She needs to have a brain to have that. Oh, but she doesn’t know I think that….should I tell her she's dying? Or maybe not.

I said : You can't always believe whatever that is posted on
the internet. You know, you sound like you could
use some rest. I am going to give you the day off (my
: let's see if i've found the cure for brain
tumor, or aneurysm..), and I will give you something
for your headache. (my thoughts are getting out of
perhaps a knock on the head with my BP set
three times a day will do you wonders). If the
headache does not go off, do come back and I will
refer you for a brain MRI. (my thoughts: I know you
will say ...)
Patient : Oh God No!! You know I am claustrophobic!!! I am sure
with rest and your medication, I will feel better.
My thoughts : Hah! I've cured her aneurysm!! Bye bye you lazy bones

But I said
: I'm sure you'll feel better by tomorrow.
Patient : Thank you doctor.
My thoughts : Oh don't thank me. Just don't come in with complaint of
hemorrhoids the next time. I'll shove a huge
proctoscope up yours...
But I said : My pleasure. Have a good rest.

So you see, each time you see a doctor smile in that weird way, she may be bitching about you on her bad day, but only in her thoughts. You got away with an MC, so there is no reason for you to complaint, right? Oh yes. Within a doctor who woke up from the wrong side of the bed, there is a Dr House buried , waiting to be unleashed....