The Trip - Part 1

It was the kiss

Leonie told herself - almost adamantly - as she looked at her own reflection in the mirror.

It was the kiss that changed her mind

Her reflection stared back at her with a wry smile. People who don't know her would think of her as vain - she has this habit of looking at herself in the mirror for an infinite amount of time; absorbed with her own reflection - but the truth is it wasn't admiration she was feeling - rather it was mystery. She still wondered who the hell is this woman looking back at her after all this time.

Sometimes when she thought she had figured herself out, she would do something like a bolt from the blue. Something like this. And it was always easier to shift the blame elsewhere - such as the kiss.

The kiss came unexpectedly - they were taking a walk right after dinner - and he had held her on her waist; almost swept her off her feet - and planted a wet kiss on her lips.

I don’t know what I'll do without you.

He had paused to say those few words and then continue to devour her lips - almost vehemently. At first she was stoned - her mind too stunned to react - but moments later, there was a rush of emotion running through her veins and she returned his kiss passionately - almost hungrily. And they had stayed there on the public walkway - kissing like a real loving couple. She was normally reluctant to show her feelings like this in the public, but in that moment, everything else ceased to matter. Everything else except the kiss - which strangely reminded her of the taste of roasted almond - and that almost made her laugh because few weeks earlier she remembered smelling something exactly similar - when she discovered a carton of waters in her storeroom infested with roaches' droppings - aghast with the same almond-like scent.

And right now - standing in front of the mirror in their villa - she was feeling  content.  She had made the decision - even though it was a contrasting decision she had made earlier before the trip.

The trip was something they had planned for quite a while - they always do their annual family trip and this is no exception - and they had chosen Phuket as Patong Beach's sunset view is allegedly something to die for. The hope was the trip would rekindle the passion in their relationship - to reignite the flame that had somehow gone dim.

But 2 months before the trip, she ran into John.

John was her course-mate from their college days. They had always had this mutual attraction before her current husband - a senior from IT - made the move. She started going out with him and John just sort of faded away - and unconsciously so did whatever fragment of attraction which may or may not existed. They kept in touch on and off but life after college had consumed most of her idle time - works, family and more works - so there was no real effort or attempt to catch up.

Now after almost 10 years - Leonie and John met again. He had just joined the company where she was doing the finance for and he didn't waste one minute - straight away he had asked her out for lunch as soon as she said hello.

From the first lunch - John is someone she could really talk to - she started to re-discovered that fragment of attraction she once felt. Soon - over subsequent lunches - she realized the pull was mutual. 

An invisible string was pulling at her heart - because you see, things weren't really great at home with Danny - her husband. He was constantly away on business trips and she was left fending off her loneliness at home - with her mother. If not for the family support, she would have fallen apart long ago.

She kept the relationship mainly because she was wary of meeting new guys - and she didn't really want to hurt Danny - apart from the fact that he is deeply committed to his career, he was not really that bad. He was loyal in his own mundane way - never gave another look to other girls, no matter how hot - and he was never possessive; he allowed her the freedom to hang out with her friends - never checked her cellphone like those paranoid husbands she heard about - she really appreciated those qualities.

However, now after going out with John - she started to realize something is missing - a hole in her heart. She had never had any engaging and meaningful conversation with Danny - but with John, she felt as if they could talk all night long. John's caring and attentive nature was like day to night compared to Danny - he had made constant efforts to check on her - and albeit being slightly overwhelming, she had felt buoyant and truly happy - something she had not felt with Danny all this time.

Fast forward to few days before the family trip to Phuket, John had asked her out again.

Leonie, John had said. He sounded serious. I can no longer bear the thought of you being in his arms any longer. I want you to be mine - but at the same time I want you to be happy.

I know, John. I have thought about this - but I don't have the courage to tell Danny of breaking up.

It's your long term happiness you need to think about. If you think Danny can keep you happy, I would gladly walk away…for good

The tone was sullen - it used to be cheerful whenever she was with John. Not today. It feels like he is giving her an ultimatum. She remembered thinking: Men can have more than one women - in some instance up to 4 wives. Why can't women have 2 men at the same time?

I don't mean to pressure you, Leonie. But I need an answer. I just got a good job offer in Singapore. Your answer will really means a lot to me - you know I value you more than any job offer in the world - not like Danny.

She said she would give him the answer. Right after this trip.

She was going to tell Danny about John after dinner - during that walk - in fact she was about to open her mouth right before he swept her off and covered her mouth with that almond-laced kiss.

And now you're swayed. Her reflection in the mirror said to her. You want to stay with Danny. Her reflection's tone was almost accusing.

Action speak louder than words. All I ever had with John was words. But what Danny did…that kiss…it was truly an act of love. She tried to defend her decision. People said if you're unsure, a kiss will tell you whether the love is still there.

Her image in the mirror snickered at her.

Leonie looked away. There was a sudden pain in her chest - she could feel as if something is squeezing heart rapidly. She staggered forward and hit the mirror.

Honey… a voice called out from the living room. Are you OK?

The owner of the voice walked briskly into the room. Danny.

Just a bit out of breath, Leonie said. But her heart kept beating faster. A slight nausea was scaling her throat.

Danny smiled. You definitely take your time with you ponytail. You know your family is probably partying at Bangla Road already.

Oh, are we late?

They were supposed to meet her family at a pub in Bangla Road around 9pm. The women wanted to do some shopping while the men wanted to do some drinking. It's what people do in Phuket. Right after the walk - they have returned to their villa to refresh themselves before setting out again.

It's already half past 9. But I don't think they will miss us. I told them we might be late after dinner.  Danny winked at her.

She smiled. That would not quelled her fast beating heart though. She really needs to sit down.

What's the matter? You looked pale. Concern in Danny's voice.

I don't know. She gasped. The nausea in her throat is getting worse.

Come lie down. Danny beckoned to her from the bed.

She obeyed. He said beside her and stroke her head quietly.

You know, Leonie. I am going to miss you.

Her head was getting dizzy. What…what are you talking about?

I know about John, Leonie.

Shock seized her - accompanied by an inexplicable sense of fear. She tried to get up but couldn't. Her body feels suddenly like it was filled lead - heavy and suffocating. A stream of puke hurled through her throat and ejaculated from her nostrils like a volcano spitting out filth instead of lava.

How…how…she tried to utter.

How I know about John? Oh, I installed a rootkit in your phone, dear. I can see all your messages to him

He continued to stroke her hair.

After all I am an IT expert. He laughed.

Her eyes were wide with fear now. Why is he not surprised on what is happening to her? She lifted her finger, tried to point to her phone on the dresser.

Call a doctor, dear? Again he laughed, this time like a maniac. That would defeat the purpose - I am murdering you here.

Her eyes was red with fury. She was not going to roll over and die - but he pressed her down on her chest with both his arms. She stared into his eyes and could see madness there - dark and filled with malice.

You think this is about John? Yes and no…When it seems you are going to dump me for him, I know I need to act fast. Once you initiate the divorce proceeding, getting the money out from that million dollar insurance policy I bought on your life is gonna be very difficult.

I wouldn't care shit if you leave…but I needed the money. My debt has grown to almost six figure with those stupid binary option trading. So this…this is gonna kill 2 birds with one stone. I can settle my debt and live comfortably with the insurance payout

She tried to push him off but all she managed was a pinch on his arms - he was unmovable and she was getting weaker.

Damn, this cyanide is pretty awesome. Danny continued to laugh. Luckily I took 2 doses of the antidote.

As the last sap of energy drained slowly out from her body, she turned away and saw herself in the mirror a few foot away.

Her reflection - it gave her the same wry smile.

How ironic. To think that your decision was to actually to stay with him.

She could see tears in eyes of the woman who was inside the mirror. Till today she still couldn't figure out who the heck is that woman.

As the tears drop onto the floor, the woman said to her:

It was the kiss.

****************** 

Fun facts about Cyanide - From US CDC (Centre of Disease Control and Prevention):

• Cyanide sometimes is described as having a “bitter almond” smell, but it does not always give off an odor, and not everyone can detect this odor.
• The United States standard cyanide antidote kit first uses a small inhaled dose of amyl nitrite, followed by intravenous sodium nitrite, followed by intravenous sodium thiosulfate. Hydroxocobalamin is newly approved in the US and is available in Cyanokit antidote kits
• How quickly does cyanide kill? A single tablespoon of potassium cyanide will kill 90 % of 43 people, i. e. about 39. In reality, death due to cyanide poisoning will occur in much shorter time than three days, more likely in 2-6 hours.

Sean's Guide to Awesome Songs Part 1

It started hauntingly slow, like a shadow creeping up behind you. You have a feeling something’s there, but you can’t see a thing. Perhaps it’s a figment of your imagination? But still, the feeling refuse to fade away, as if something menacing yet enticingly inviting is there somewhere around you.

This is the closing song for the Japanese anime Berserk.

It’s a series adapted from a manga with the same name. I read the first volume on a long haul flight and got hooked instantly on it. The story revolves around a hardcore fella with a gigantic sword by the name of Guts. Set in medieval Europe, Guts is cursed somehow and he spent his days killing demons – how cool is that? Too lazy to read the rest of the manga, I went online to search for the movies or anime. Something this good must have a movie or a dedicated anime like Doraemon.

I was right. I found 25 episodes of the anime and started watching. Then I watched the more recent movies made from it – Berserk Golden Age Arc. There were 3 of them, and man, the third one – the most recent one, I think it was released last year – was spellbindingly brutal. It’s the part where the hero goes berserk – and how the title came along. It’s not an easy movie to watch, mind you – the brutality will put Gods of War to shame. Nevertheless, it ties up the story very neatly – all credits to the creator Kentaro Miura.

This ominous song accompanied the series ending while the credits roll. Once you get a grip of what this series is all about, you get the feeling this song is not only fitting, but ominously beautiful. The lyric though – it smells like a grilled briskets prepared by a tiramisu pastry shop. It reminds you of those people who try to use fancy English words whenever the can and ended up screwed by the mistakes.

It sort of reminded me of this ex-colleague of mine. We were on our way back from a strenuous hiking trip and heading towards a nearby restaurant when he exclaimed:

“I am so hungry I could divorce a cow.”

I am pretty sure he meant devour but there you have it.

“Didn’t know you were married to a cow…” I said as the laughter dies amongst few of us and he still looked stupendous as if he still could not fathom his miserable mistakes.

Anyway, watching the MV to this song (shown here) somehow brings a recent HBO series True Detective to mind. Speaking of which, is another series you should not miss – not only for Alexandra Daddario’s revealing scene but also for Matt Mccounaghey inspired performance. He totally deserved his Oscar this year, BTW.

Well, the reason why it made me recall True Detective is the cow skull’s at the beginning of the video. Plus the haunting mood of the song. Plus the man-woman duo singing and swaying in a creepy way. Almost like that Handsome Family duo(couple) that brought you the opening song for True Detective – Far from any road.

It’s a melancholy song that you would want to listen to when you’re in a mending mood. Like when someone you care about left you. When you lost someone special in your life. When Liverpool lost consecutively to Man City and Chelsea. Or when – just for example – you put in an inspired performance in your work all year long and got a meagre peanuts increment. Those are the moments you want to be alone with a Celestial Seasoning’s Sleepytime cup of tea and this song air-played over your AVR.

Bad Wives Good Vibes

There are few types of bad wives: the trophy wife - who does nothing but spend your money and acts like a dead fish every night; the on-paper wife - who does nothing at all and acts like she is your wife, and the slutty wife who gives you nothing but gives others everything and acts like you're not there.

Then there's the good wives of course. Those that stand beside you (not behind or in front of you) in a moment of distraught, those that you could count on, and those that knows what your secret smile means. Those that can drive you to be a better man. And they are non-existent, aren't they?

Living with bad wives is a bad torment. It's like a prison, with a severe punishment dealt upon you on a daily basis. Or hourly basis for some. And like a prison, there's no easy way out. Then there are the kids to think about. If you managed to escape, it wouldn't be an overnight effort. It takes time, almost like the Shawsank Redemption. And when you did escape, you'll be too old to start all over.

A married life is a marred life, scarred by the betrayal of the woman you so foolishly put your trust on. You may never be able to feel joy again in this life, and might need to wait for your next reincarnation to find the love of your life. To rub salt to your injury, the flawed system demands that you give up half your hard earned property to the woman if you decide to split. By that time, you're old, you're broke and you wish you were never born at all.

So knowing all this, do guys still go and marry those bad wives? Amazingly they still do. Either they are forced to by a power far greater than their conscience, or they are just plain foolish. The power could be a suicide threat (which is predominant in developing countries where you have a lot of meaningless on-paper marriage) or it could be the power of the loins in the case of trophy wives.

With all these bad marriages around, perhaps that's the reason people believe in the end of the world. The younger generation more than any. A generation that comes from dysfunctional marriage and on-paper marriage. A generation that don't give a damn, and couldn't care less if a meteor comes and wipe us all out. Some would even exploit it to get laid - the end is coming, why don't we just do what we want?

Maybe this is the generation that is gonna wipe out the so called bad wives. Men have come to realization that bad wives come from their peer generation, and they are seeking partner from the next generation. That means it makes sense for a guy marry someone much younger than him - preferably from one generation after his. I have seen guys from Gen X happily married to women from Gen Y. It may not be the first marriage for the Gen-Xers, but Gen Y women don't care.

The invention of Viagra has brought on the new era of hope and more and more younger women are attracted to older guys. These younger women may not be the good wives we were once seeking for, but at least they are not the bad wives we are trying to avoid but couldn't. Finally there are good vibes in the air, as though hope is available once again.

The Rainy Season

In the rainy season
The water came gushing furiously
Thunder and lightning jesting each other
The young ones screamed
The unmanly ones squirmed

Those that live with guilt
Fear is like the raindrop beating on the roof
Unapologetically, with no respite
Nor respect
Lock all your doors
Check all your windows
Still the paranoia
Like an invisible hand on your shoulder
the touch piercing through the soul

Remember all the promises you break?
People you have betrayed?
The sleep that wouldn't come?
Despite your lavish condo and your chiropractic mattress

Deep inside you know
Tho' you wouldn't admit
Karma will catch up on you
And serve you a cold cold dish of penance

At your posh farewell banquet
Where rain just won't let go
But people still come
And you would boast of the numbers
But they come just to eat
Just for the food
Not to wish you well
Good words were spoken
Malice thought cursing you mutedly

You smile and you laughed
Your trophy wife asking smittenly are we really going back?
Yes, you are - you mongrel
The rain is singing your farewell song
Can't you hear?

We wish you all the less
As you are but a speck of dirt
That the rainy season
So vehemently came to wash away

Bersihkan diri sendiri dahulu ... sebelum nak gi join Bersih 3.0

Baru-baru ini macam dah jadi "trend" bagi ramai orang berprihatin terhadap hal politik di negara kita. Beribu-ribu post FB boleh dilihat setiap hari - membalingkan kritikan terhadap parti kerajaan dan memberikan sokongan padu terhadap parti pembangkang. Topik minum kopi setiap hari tak lari lari lagi la - mesti berkenaan   dengan sama ada sumbangan yang dibuat oleh pihak pembangkang ataupun terhadap kes kronism terbaru yang didedahkan.

Sentimen ini agak baik sebenarnya, ini menunjukkan bahawa orang ramai bukan lagi katak di bawah tempurung. Tapi kadang-kadang terfikir juga - dalam ramai ramai rakyat prihatin ini, berapa peratus kah yang betul betul faham dengan perjuangan parti pembangkang ini - atau kebanyakan cuma sokong dan tambah api sahaja kerana nak menurut "trend".

Macam di kilang tempat saya bekerja, ramai jurutera sekalian yang menyokong Bersih. Masa Bersih 2.0 ada jugak colleague yang di berada di US keluar tunjuk perasaan kat tempat mereka. Bawak anak isteri sekali. Yang di tempatan tak usah cakap lagi la. Pakai baju kuning tiap tiap hari. Setiap topik perbualan mesti kaitkan dengan bersih. Tapi yang menariknya...tak tahu kepala hotak depa ni bersih ka tak.

Dan kini Bersih 3.0 dah sampai pulak. Kita lihat banyak kawan kawan sekalian terhigeh-higeh dengan semangat Bersih. Terserempak saja tanya " This Saturday got join ar?" Ataupun " You got buy dy, the Bersih 3.0 T-shirt? RM20 only, brader."

Bersih sebenarnya memperjuangkan "keadilan". Itu matlamat utama Bersih. Kita tak mahu wakil rakyat dipilih melalui sistem yang di "rigged". Kita mahu keadilan.

Berapa ramai brader brader yang pakai baju kuning tu faham dengan konsep perjuangan ini? Tak ramai kalau kita tengok di kilang kita ni. Ramai yang sanggup ambil kredit kerja orang lain. Ramai yang suka "backstab" rakan sekerja untuk naik pangkat. Ada juga yang saja saja forward email CC sedunia supaya boss boleh tengok mereka ini berapa pandai. Pandai? Pandai tipu la mungkin...

Dan kita tengok orang orang yang sama ini bercakap pasal Bersih. Bercakap pasal nak join tunjuk perasaan duduk kat Padang Kota. Ataupun post kat FB gambar diaorang pakai baju kuning Bersih 3.0 yang dibeli kat Batu Maung - berdekatan OCBC sana. Aksyen macam diaorang ni "bersih".

Walaupun di ofis tak pernah fikir langsung tentang kekejaman terhadap rakan sekerja sendiri. Tengok boss datang saja, tiba-tiba jadi macam bapok. Dan orang orang yang sama ni - yang konon-nya menyokong keadilan - menyokong boss depa yang cukup tak adil. Orang yang betul betul kerja dilihatkan bagai sampah. Dan sampah macam depa ni kononnya 100% komited terhadap kerja.

100% kepala otak! Tengok saja boss expat dari US la, Pakistan la, mula la bodek macam bapok. Semua nak rampas peluang pergi "relo" kat US. Email mesti CC sedunia.

Pada pandangan saya, beruk-beruk ini tak layak langsung cakap pasal Bersih. Kalau you orang nak pi join Bersih pastikan you orang korek keluar jantung hati yang hitam macam taik tu dulu...dan basuh supaya bersih dulu.

Dan ofis yang jual T-shirt Bersih kat Batu Maung tu...pastikan you orang jual baju tu pada orang orang yang layak saja. "Toksah" jual kat babi babi hutan yang tak faham langsung apa maksud "clean fight". Jual pada diaorang tu ibarat bakar baju saja. Mempersia-siakan nama bersih "Bersih".

Akhir sekali, ingin saya "clarify" di sini, saya takkan pi mana mana tunjuk perasaan esok. But trust me, saya memang sokong sebarang konsep "keadilan". Saya berani mengkritik beruk beruk takda otak itu depan orang ramai. Majoriti tak suka tak apa, yang penting, saya tahu - hasrat saya bersih. Tak ramai kawan pun takpa, yang penting satu hari nanti, saya boleh tengok bukan saja negara saya ni, tapi tempat kerja saya sekali pun - "bersih" daripada sampah masyarakat hipokratik macam mereka ini.

Brand New Pen

Boy...looking at the date of my last entry, it's been almost a year and a half already. 18 months - 2 babies could have been made and born in that period. I am almost at a lost here - it's like at one point of my life, my pen ran out of ink - and I went to look for a new pen or ink to fill - and now that the ink find its way into that pen of mine - I took a glance at the calendar and voila! It's 18  months later.

So what have I been up to? Looking for a new pen? Something that lasts longer? Indelible ink?

I would wish that I had been up to something fun, but it's been more frustration than fun. For the past 6 months or so, I had been busy with my new house - my 4th properties (5th if I count that flat I bought when I was just barely out of high school). With all these properties, you would have thought the renovation and moving in would be as easy as a breeze. You would have been wrong.

The thing about me is I always strive for perfection. I hate to screw up. So I planned till my hair grow white. Then when I turned my plan into execution, I was all fired up. But in a world like ours, there's always some people pouring water into your fire. Or rain - which is an act of nature. And plan all you want, there's always a need to improvise. And you become wiser when all this is over. Right?

The thing about us (as human beings) is we always hope that once something is over, we move to something new (with a break in within). We set a date and once we reach that date, we start a new phase of our life. But the truth is, thing never get over cleanly. We have shit we have to clean up - and sometimes this shit dragged itself forcibly into the new phase of our life. A crappy relationship for example. Where your ex always appeared out of nowhere to fight for your kids love and custody. And how to deal with that?

There's always crap like that. We deal with it - but don't expect it's fun. It's not.

That's what I have been saying. It's been more frustration than fun.

Ok now, let's not get carried away. Let me get used to my new pen first in coming days and hopefully my next entry would be something less philosophical. Haha.

Shotgun Marriage

Back in the old days, shotgun marriage is a term used to refer to marriage resulting from pregnancy. I don’t know how the term comes around but I can imagine. Probably the shotgun barrel are not what the guy see when they are humping their future bride - most likely that comes after the parent got wind of the pregnancy. In countries like Malaysia where guns are outlawed, perhaps the similar term would be “parang” marriage.

I remember a time when it’s a trend for older woman to wed younger guy. That was about the time when our former Miss Malaysia Arianna Teoh got married to our F1 rejects Alex Yoong. People looked at them in awe, people talked about how older women have more experiences when it comes to enjoying the bedroom times – and they decided to follow suit. Younger dudes date older women willingly – but what they don’t get is older women usually have different needs - like the urge to tie the knot ASAP – therefore they ended up in the wedding altar – rather unwillingly. In essence, this sort of marriage is very similar to shotgun marriage, perhaps the notable difference is the fact that usually it’s the older bride who is holding the shotgun.

What these young dudes didn’t get also was the fact that in Malaysia, you can get married as easy as tossing a coin, but when it comes to divorce, you will tossing yourself into deep shit. Maybe you can use the shotgun, but then – usually it’s the older wife who keeps the gun. What started off as a great bedroom experiences with older woman usually ends in tragedy. But hey, if celebrities like Arianna and Alex can’t even keep their marriages, who are we pheasants to keep ours?

People learnt their lesson, so now younger dudes no longer looks for older women – except for some cases where the older women transformed into cougars and are immensely wealthy. In these cases, the dudes would eventually become a trophy husband if the older women don’t get sick with them. But there was no forcing here. Instead of shotgun, these are gold plated marriage. Lavish lifestyle awaits – only for young dudes who have six pack.

For those who doesn’t have six packs, they would rather wait – because the trend now is where older guy married younger women – much much younger women. Trendsetters, as we know, are always some celebrities. So it doesn’t come as a big surprise when Amber Chia married an older men who is even married before with kids. Lee Sin Je did the same, earlier.
Older men with baggage (kids from former marriages) – used to be shunned – suddenly become hot cakes. They get their trophy wife and lives happily ever after – just like the fairy tales they read to their kids from former marriage. But we all know fairy tales are craps, don’t we?

With our social network getting more complicated by the day, so is our relationship. Many people decide to wait till their 30s before getting hitched. Perhaps they have learned their lesson from history. Marriage is never designed for people below 30, just like Iphone4 is never designed for people above 60.

People are more careful with marriage nowadays. They prefer to take it easy. Let’s hope shotgun marriage is a thing of the past – with people getting more thoughtful and conscientious. But wait a minute…just last week, I heard of a friend getting married. The thing is they had just been dating for barely 3 months. Then there’s this girl who we always admire from afar. She just got married, people say, after meeting the now-husband in a beach party 2 months ago. Recently also, this gorgeous HR lady who we always drool after – she just changed her relationship status to “in a relationship”. Surprisingly all these people have one similarity, they are in their 30s.

Perhaps shotgun marriage is not dead after all. It just evolves into another form. Careful or not, desperate people are still desperate people.

Calm Before (Storm)

Finally my internal transfer was finalized last week.

My former department took almost forever to come up with a release date for me. And finally when it was decided, my boss grudgingly sent me an FYI email on the date. Which was 2 days later. What a joke, some would have said. I prefer to call it – poetic justice.

So out of the crocodile’s gaping mouth and into a lion’s den? I can’t see the lion yet but once in a while I can hear lioness roar. And mind you, it’s one hungry roar. In order not to get eaten, I gotta move fast and furious. It’s either you get eaten, or you turn into a lion yourself and conquest the lioness.

Nevermind all those crappy analogies, what it literally means is I am moving from a team that develop SOC (small obscure chip) to a team that develop supercomputer. That’s not a bad deal now, is it?

How good the deal is remains to be seen, but next week I am heading to E&O for team outing lunch. Lobster, baby, lobster! And these few days, the workload is still very kind to me, thank you. I was supposed to get the all the required access, setup my environment and run a test or two to ensure my environment is properly set-up. Which I managed to complete in a couple of hours and spend the remaining time doing online stocks and facebooking. And yes, of course, I managed to spend a few minutes ranting a bit on my cob-web filled blog here. Perhaps I can spend some time to hunt for some hot lioness to conquest as well. How nice, right?

Some people would warn me, Beware! This could be the calm before the next storm. But if that is the case, more reason I should take it easy and enjoy it while it lasts. And at the same time - re-discover some of my mojo again.

Adopt and Modify

Some people likened our action to the act of abandoning a pregnant woman. But the truth is, we were never the parents in the first place. The parents were a bunch over-confident managers who doesn’t know shit about pregnancy – all they want is a baby. Us – we were more like the nurses and the surgeons in the hospital who help people deliver the baby.

Now like all responsible medical practitioner, we highlighted to the parents on the risk and what it takes to have a baby. A pregnant woman not only needs devoted care but also understanding – she needs someone to accompany her to breathing and maternity classes. She needs re-assurance all the time - and from time to time, she may even have outrageous cravings for some food. As a parent, you need to understand all that – it’s the process of giving birth. And then there are baby stuffs you need to buy, like diapers. You don’t want to wrap the baby up in newspaper I supposed – that would be inhumane.

The parents said to hell with all that. They just want a baby. Pain is unnecessary – you can always opt for the epidural. Never mind the side effect. Diapers and other baby stuffs – you can buy later. Deprioritize (Zbb) it for now – hahaha.

So they went ahead and have their intercourse. Throw every gene in and have fun. Mix and match. The parents were like a bunch of high school kids who just discovered sex. They want their kid to have everything – smart and strong – literally born with a six packs. Never mind the complexity, never mind whether our ward can handle that – just breed first and think about the consequences later. As a result, the first pregnancy met with some complications. The poor baby boy – whom they have even chosen a name – Newton, was sacrificed in a miscarriage.

Needless to say, we were sad. We told them our ward couldn’t handle such a complicated pregnancy but they just wouldn’t listen.
Miscarriage is not a big deal, the parents said. Let’s keep it simpler this time – let’s have a baby girl instead. We can call her Rose.
This time the parents decided to get some outside help. Let’s get some experts from elsewhere to help with the breeding process. This was a good justification for the parents to travel around – they can have intercourse with different people in different place.

This is a not a good idea, we told them. Mixed breeding is a very complicated process that we are not ready to handle. What if the baby comes out deformed? It would need intensive care. We would have to work days and nights to resuscitate it.

The parents chuckled. Let’s worry about that later. We want to have our intercourse first.

Time passed and period missed. A new baby was finally conceived. But wait, what is this news about some of the nurses and surgeons leaving? Will we have enough headcounts to deliver baby Rose?

The parents laughed their evil Big Bad Wolf laugh. Nothing to worry about, we can always hire new nurse and surgeon. Never mind their skill or experience. Just get them in first.

A fellow surgeon once commented: Sheep are escaping through the broken fences. Instead of fixing the fences, these jokers decide to bring in more sheep. So more sheep escaped. Why not they fixed the fence first before bringing in more sheep?

And that was exactly what happened. The time came when the hole in the fence was gaping right in front of us. All we can see is the greener pastures outside the fence. If we don’t make the leap now, when will we ever get the chance again?

So we packed our bag and left. The parents were infuriated. They threatened us with lawsuit. They branded us as deserter – traitors. They tried their best to make our life miserable.

But we persevered. Short term pain is better than long term pain. We really do not want to stay and deliver a deformed baby. That would be heartbreaking. We want to go somewhere where we can deliver a healthy baby. A baby we can be proud of. We want to learn from those good parents because who knows – one day we might be parents ourselves.

So the parents – with the fear of abortion troubling them – sit around the table to discuss on the next course of action.

Perhaps we can adopt, one of them said.

Yes, another voice was heard. We can modify the kid to be ours.

Adopt and modify, what a good idea – another echoed the agreement.

They began to see the light.

My Weekend

Drag and pull
Myself through the empty but hectic weekend
Stressful yet dull
Errands await me on my erratic weekend

Wish there’s a door
That I could open and just escape
Into a world I once knew
Where you can chill out the night before
Followed by a soothing hot cup of tea the next morning
Where you can let your guard down
With accompanying bossa nova music to cheer you up

Now there’s just commitment
And shopping list
With a dysfunctional relationship on my shoulder
Not to mention family obligation on my back
It ain’t light
This load I have to carry

The occasional glimpse of joy
Scented with innocent laughter
Thanks to the kids
My hope my life my novocaine
Like a window where you can open
To see a bright world filled with colors and sunshine
But the window is not a door you can step through
And it’s something you need to wipe the dust off constantly
To be able to see the scenery outside

Perhaps it’s just a phase we all need to go through
Perhaps happiness is just beyond the corner
Perhaps there’s an answer to all these despair
Perhaps by doing all the good things, you can hope for a good return

Miserable
Quietly praying for the bleak weekends to be over
Looking forward to the gloomy workdays
Which shines in comparison to the pale weekend
Filled with hangover and dread
Looking forward to another Monday
with traffic jams and bad coffee
But at least
I can see her
My hope my life my novocaine

Stalker and Sincere Admirer

I was talking with my friend over lunch today and she mentioned about a guy who has been stalking her for the past 4 years. 4 years, my friend, that’s a very long time. I can’t even stalk that hot chick I met at SS for 4 minutes, once she started talking – I lose interest, but hey, that’s another story.


“So how did this guy stalk you?” I asked my friend.

“Oh, he left chocs and notes in my cube, he sent me countless SMS even though I never replied a single one, and he left me messages in my Friendster…”

“Isn’t it glorious – to be admired like that?”

“What glorious? It’s damn creepy…”

“But why you didn’t tell the guy off? Just tell him frankly, I HAVE NO INTEREST IN YOU, PLS LEAVE ME ALONE.”

“I never met him in person and I never replied his messages.”

“You never met him? How could that be possible? I mean, in these 4 years…”

“I’ve seen his pic in Friendster before la, but I never met him in real person. I think I would totally freak out if I do.”

“And he never gave up? Even though you umm...gave him the cold shoulder?”

“I gave him more than that actually…you know there is once he tried to add me as a friend in facebook and I rejected him with a message that goes : I think you got the wrong person. He followed up with a message that went something like this: Don’t you remember me? I am so-and-so and we used to be former colleagues in [censored]. I went bazooka, I mean, of course I know who you are, YOU DWEEB! I just don’t want to be your friend. But instead, I just replied: No. He went nut and sent another message with all capital letters: HOW COULD YOU NOT REMEMBER?!! I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY NIGHT!!!”

So, my friend - being a civilized lady she is, answered back very curtly: I think you need an anger management class. The stalker wouldn’t give up, he went: I don’t need an anger management class. I need a class that teaches me how NOT to miss you that much.

There goes - a pathetic stalker story that happened to my friend. And I forgot to mention, the stalker had continued his unhealthy craving for her even when she was married. How could you sympathize with this kind of creepy yearning for someone? The most you could feel is dread and annoyance at such persisting pest.

But comes to think of it, what would you do if you yearn for someone who is already attached to someone else? Would you go to the extent of that pathetic stalker? Or would you just give up like a respectable gentleman?

Deep inside this demented society we live in, I am sure there are some rather delicate soul who prefer to continue hoping in a quiet way. A forlorn being walking alone and watching from afar, secretly praying for the ship to come in one day. A shift of heart, a change of mind – whenever the cruel destiny decides to be more merciful. Anything that would drive that person we yearn for safely in our arms, and no matter how broken or hurt she is – we’ll tend to her wound and make her well and whole again.

This thought of mine was captured perfectly in a timeless song called “Bizarre Love Triangle”. Originally made popular by an 80’s band New Order, the song had been covered by numerous other artists. One of the most endearing version is this version by Frente.

The chorus encapsulates the who essence of this star-crossed relationship:

Every time I see you falling, I get down on my knees and pray
I’m waiting for that final moment, You’ll say the words that I can’t say

So for this friend of mine - who is leaving my company to begin a new chapter of her life in Singapore, this song is dedicated to you. Enjoy.

Heaven and Hell

There was a waterfall near my village – which I used to go when I was a kid. The water was sparkling clean – cool and refreshing. It is a place where you can lose count of time – a place where you can lose yourself amidst the maddening heat. The memory is still vivid in my mind after all these years, how I used to soak myself under the water and came out a new person – as if the water can wash away all your worries and concern. The gush of water as it falls on your head – if you stand under neath the waterfall – reminds you of a massage by a skillful masseuse – as she knead away your headaches – injecting pleasure with every touch.


Nevertheless, in order to reach this hidden paradise, you need to go through a dangerous path – slightly off-road and filled with wild bushes. The path stretched over a kilometer and a half – laid haphazardly and wide enough just a man to walk through. The bushes grew close to each other and when you walk by, you can feel it brushing your legs in a squeamish way – and in some area there are even thorny bushes that stings and might even be poisonous. People say there are a lot of snakes hiding amongst the bushes, ready to spring at unsuspecting prey and if you are unlucky, you might even run into a wild boar waiting to charge at you. Unfortunately, this is the only path that was available at the time and if you want to enjoy the bliss of the heavenly waterfall, you have to brave yourself through this hellish stretch of jungle track.

Risky as it is, I found myself unable to resist the call of the waterfall, and would visit it as often as opportunity allowed. I cut myself many times in the bushes and once I saw a two-foot long snake slithered by – but that never stopped me from going. I see the dangerous path as an obstacle that I have to overcome in order to enjoy something that elevates my soul. Some people would have appalled by my foolishness, but then again they could never understand what the waterfall meant to me.

******

I once had a shift of career during my working stint in Japan. When I moved to Osaka, I had to be separated from my daughter for a period of few months. I didn’t know whether I would like the job – and I need times to settle down before I could take care of her. I had no choice but to leave her with her mother.

I missed her terribly – my little princess. I would call her every night – talking to her about her days in her nursery – did she sleep at school today? Sometimes I would tell her bedtimes story over the phone – the phone charges was exorbitant but that didn’t matter naught, what matters is hearing her voice – her laughter is the most beautiful music for him.

The only problem with this arrangement – was the fact that in order to reach my lovely daughter, I had to call the mother’s cellphone – what can you expect? She is only 3 at the time. And that means I have to talk to the mother first.

“You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Having a lot of fun, eh?”

The mother’s voice was always full of mockery. Even with more than hundreds of kilometers away, I could sense the hostility in her voice – ready to pick a fight. The accusing tone of her voice cut like a knife. This would usually be followed by the guilt inducing therapy.

“Do you know that your daughter was looking for you last night? She was crying and saying that she wanted to play with Papa. And you know what I told her? I told her Papa doesn’t want her anymore.”

I would be consumed by mounting anger - like a fire slowly building up on a pile of woods. I feel like extending my hands into the cellphone and reach across the phone line to strangle her, that bitch – but that is something I can’t possibly do, can I?

“You can go for movies and drinking session with your friends while we suffer here – with your meager allowance of 2K. You know how much things cost these days? We could hardly survive with your two bloody K. And still you could afford to go out and have fun.”

She never failed to stir my anger – sometimes she would rile me to the point where I want to crush the phone and use a hammer on it - but somehow I have come to accept that this is something that I have to go through in order to talk to my daughter.

So I would take a long breath and let her words flow through my mind – like forcing oneself to listen to very bad music. It usually would extend up until she made a point – and that is more often than not – a request for more money –perhaps for an expensive facial or hair treatment. I would eventually have to relent to her outrageous demands – and heave a sigh of relief when my daughter came on.

I could never understand why a person can use her daughter as a tool to blackmail – and sometimes as a shield to cover up her own mistake. But make no mistake – such a person does exist – and to face her or to talk to her is sometimes tougher than Dante’s journey across Hell. Thinking back, it’s million times tougher than using that jungle track to reach my childhood hideaway – the waterfall.

******

Perhaps this is life – designed as a maze to test our integrity and virtues. In order to reach the heaven, we have to walk through hell. And if we should crumble and fall along the way – at least we know we are one step closer to the heaven. Perhaps that’s the reason why human like me – we still take the risk, we still take the only way we know to reach the one we love – even thought that means we might have to struggle and suffer along the way.

At least we have a destiny – a “heaven” where we know we belong. Some people don’t even know where there heaven lies – they just walk around aimlessly all their life.

So if you just happened to be walking on the path that traverses hell and filled with agony and suffering at this moment – be tough. The heaven is just a few more steps ahead.

The Resemblance

她总是说得太多，有意义的又太少，让我总有种淹没在她制造出的话语泥淖中的感觉。即使是日常生活中的一点点琐事，她也必须剖开来谨慎处理；和她说话，我必须谨慎挑选使用的字眼，因为一些对我而言毫无恶意的话语，却会让她和我彻夜争辩，逼我澄清使用这些字眼的动机。我总觉得，她永远都陷在焦虑的情绪中，担忧那些她觉得自己没做好的事，而她所采取的应对方法就是不断分析它，直到有一天这事在她生命中已不再存有任何意义为止。

到后来，在我拒绝参与这种对话后，她开始留字条给我。起初还很正常，像“请买奶粉回来”或“Day care fees due tomorrow. Pls put the money in the envelope by tonite”之类的，但随着时间过去，这些字条变得越来越复杂，而且敌意也渐渐增加。

有天我很晚回家，一回家便发现一张字条，上面写道：“我已经告诉过你好几次了，出门上班前一定要把早餐的盘子放进洗碗机里，但是我今天回家又看到你的咖啡杯还留在餐桌上。我以为我能指望你，以为你会好好倾听我所说的话，用细心和尊重的态度对待我的要求，但我想是我看错人了。我们的确需要好好谈谈，越快越好。”最后这四个字她特别强调，在下面用力画了两条线。

我得承认，那时我的心情并不太好。我立刻抓起笔，在这张字条上写下“F**k You！我受够你妈的这些字条了”，然后贴在冰箱上好让她一早就能看见。隔天，虽然在最后一刻她还想拦住我跟我说话，我却头也不回地离开了那个地方。

*****

He spoke so much while saying so little - I sometimes felt as if I were drowning in the mud of his words. Even the smallest details or our work had to broken down and processed; speaking to him – I had to choose my words carefully, because I knew any of them, as innocuous as they may seemed to me, might result in me having daylong conversation with him in explaining my motives behind those words. It seemed to me that he is anxious all the time, nervous he might not please the higher boss, and the only way he can be in control is to analyze every piece of information until there is no essence left in them at all.

Sometimes later, after I’d begun to refuse to engage her in these discussions, he began leaving me email. Just the usual stuffs at first – “Please check your assigned tasks and feedback accordingly” or “Your tasks are due tomorrow. Please ensure the acceptance criteria are completed by today”- but as time passed, more emails began to come in – and they became more confusing and increasingly hostile.

One day I came to work to find this email in my inbox that said: “I’ve asked you several times to task out your assignments in the system before the new sprint starts, and yet I’ve log in to the system last night to find this not done. I guess I’ve been wrong in assuming that I can expect you to listen to me when I voice my needs, and to take on your responsibilities with sensitivity and respect to mine. We need to talk about this ASAP.” The last word was highlighted in Bold and underlined twice.

I had to admit – I wasn’t in my best mood at the time. I immediately replied with the following: “F**k you! I’m sick of your f**king emails!” The next day – although he tried to engage me in one last conversation, I walked out without a single word.

*****

It is eerily odd to realize that there are some ppl in your personal life that resemble some ppl in your line of work~~~

A Quick Word

I am finding it harder to write after moving back to Penang. Time continues to be the disruptive agent.

Despite my personal resolution to reincarnate my blogging life – turn it into something impressive like an art of Da Vinci, I am still stuck with a cheap free xml layout I grabbed from somewhere. Family commitment and work obligations continue to be an obstruction to my desire to write, and the current availability of Streamyx and Astro in my house doesn’t help much. FYI, the Astro came with free decoder and free installation – I found the offer too tempting to turn down.

Re-associating with my old Penang buddies have given my inspiration a new leash of life, stories were developing rapidly in my mind, but somehow, these stories – I couldn’t breathe life into them. Life is moving with exponential speed, and every time I want to sit down and write, something else comes along.

And thus, before I am completely and thoroughly over with my lover of some sort –I called it the spirit of writing, I manage to steal some time in office to write a few words. This is by no mean a great loveletter, and far from even a loveletter, but it is a message – a message that I still remember and once when time is merciful to me, I will come up with something. Till then, maybe I should find some time to create a facebook account 1st.

Durian FestMess @ Subang Parade

Eat Durian for Charity! Sound like fun, right?

But in this world ruled by Murphy’s Law, whatever sounds like fun would always end up in a disastrous stunt.

When I heard about the charity event organized by this Children Wish Society, I was thrilled. Eat-all-you-can durian fest – and you only have to donate only 10 bucks. What’s more – you are doing a charity, dude!

Obviously though, none of my colleagues around me is interested in charity or durian. Too heaty, some said. Those same buggers never said too heaty when I introduce some hot chicks to them. Two-faced idiots! Anyway, in the end, I managed to get one of the nicer colleagues to go with me.

Since the event was supposed to start at 11am, we met around 11:30 and arrived at venue (Subang Parade’s LG compound) around 11:45.

I don’t smell any durian, my companion said when we approached the crowd. This does smell fishy.

And she was right, as always. We were told the durians haven’t arrived yet. Please come back in 12:30, one of the volunteers told us.

What? My companion uttered in a semi-curse tone. Apparently, she had only eaten only some cookies for breakfast and was saving her stomach for this event.

Cursing our luck (and the organizer - silently), we were forced to walk around aimlessly in Subang Parade for another 45 minutes. I tried to go to this optical store famous for its cheap contact lenses – located next to Toys’R’us but found that the store had been replaced by a furniture shop. My companion ended up buying a short pant she needed but didn’t really like in a sports chainstore.

Come 12:30 we proceeded to the venue again, my companion and my stomach both complaining along the way. There, we registered and was given a receipt for our donation – which says Received by Durian Fest.

This time the unmistakable durian smell was in the air. But to our agony, smell is the only thing we could do, as the organizer had invited a few VIPs to the stage to say a few words to commemorate the event – before letting us feed on the durians.

Up on the stage, the Subang Jaya assembly woman Hannah Yeoh was called to give a speech. This was actually the 1st time I saw her, whom I was told was a former-classmate of one of my colleagues and married to an Indian dude. Chicks who are willing to go interracial always strike my fancy, so I listen to what she had to say.
You know why you are here? She opened her speech in a confident well-rehearsed tone. You are here to do charity. You know who this charity is for? It is for Children Wish Society. You know what this society is doing?

Her way of talking was definitely interesting. It always starts with a question and it answered itself. Interesting but annoying. Like a few aspiring bloggers there who keep on taking pictures with their cameras. I found myself trying my best to avoid being photographed by these amateurs – I don’t want to end up on their blogs with their watermark stamped on my stupid face.

YB Hannah was followed by YB Roziah, no idea who she is. This YB Roziah also has a special way to make her speech interesting; she would always start her sentences with: “The bottom line is…”

Half an hour passed and we still couldn’t get our hands on the durians. On the stage, the VIPs are having a durian eating contest, the one where they couldn’t eat with their hands. You can compete with the VIPs in another session later if you donate another 10 bucks.

When the feeding times finally started at around 1:10pm, people broke towards the durian hordes. Like a herds of hungry animals, they pushed and shuffled their way through. The king of fruits was grabbed greedily – despite its thorny surface. There were supposed to be a group of volunteers who helps people crack open their durian, but there were like only 3 or 4 of them and 3 or 4 hundreds of us.

I ended up with 2 unopened durians on my hands. My companion and I found a quiet corner and sat there to figure out how to open the durian. She managed to get some rambutans and mangosteens along the way, so we ate those 1st.

I tried to use my house key on the durian shell, but didn’t get anywhere. Luckily a friendly uncle brought some wood opener; (he must a pro to bring along those) and he helped us with it. I went to get another durian when we finished ours and at the 1:45, the family besides us announced that all the durians were gone.

Imagine. Totally wiped out in around half an hour. And this charity even were supposed to run till 7pm.

The quality of the durians was nothing to shout around. We couldn’t finish ours so we handed it to the family with hungry kids beside us. Some of the durians are not even ripe yet, the mother from the family beside us said. The rambutans also were not really fresh, some of the flesh were watery when I peeled the skin away.

Let’s find somewhere to wash our hands and mouths, I suggested to my companion, who were more than willing to comply. On our way to my car, she said next time we should have just gone to SS2 to eat durians.

I nodded. At least it’s for charity, we know we had done something good today, she added – perhaps as a way to soothe our disappointment.

Me – I don’t know which is more disappointing – the durians or the lack of goodness I feel even after I donated 10 bucks for charity.

Cinema O Rama

The first year of my primary school – I managed to claim the first spot in my school. I couldn’t remember very well how I managed to achieve that, but because of that – my father decided to reward me by taking me to a cinema.

It was the first time I ever been to a cinema and the movie that was showing at the time was Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. The cinema itself was a run-down Cathay (we pronounced it KokTai in Hokkien) in our small town of BM. Back in those times, we still do not have Cineplex, so the cinema was an old-fashioned building with no popcorn stalls and an old hunchback ah pek is the one who shows you your seat with torchlight. I also heard that the chair will snap your ass up if you are not careful.

My first impression was – the cinema was a cold and creepy place. My father bought a pack of corn crackers for me and we sat like 3 row from the back.

And then the movie began. The giant screen flickered to life and I was completely swept away. Somehow I got the amazing feeling of being swallowed by the screen, sucked into the world of the movie. For a kid my age at the time, I couldn’t find the words to describe what I felt. My mouth was a gaping hole where if a mosquito were to fly inside at that particular moment, it could fly straight into my stomach. I was completely awestruck.

Till this day I could still remember the story vividly. I laughed till my tummy hurt when the Chinese kid run around with his antic. I squirmed when I saw the tribe eating the monkey’s brain. I lost myself inside the movie for the entire length of the movie. I entirely forgotten about my father’s presence till when the credits rolled out and he put a hand on my shoulder, saying: “Time to go, son.”

That night Little Sean fell in love with the cinema.

*****

Over the adolescent years of my life, I tried to go to the cinema whenever I saved up enough money to afford a ticket. I didn’t get much of a pocket money, so I had to pick only movies I really like – unlike some of the filthy rich friends of mine who could go to cinema simply to watch any movies, sometimes even for multiple times.

I remembered one time I was watching a forgettable Hongkie movie with a few friends and this particular girl told me this is the third time she was watching this.

“Then why did you still wanna come?” I asked her, perplexed. “It is certainly not a very good movie.”

“Oh, I don’t mind” she said. “Just come here because you guys want to come.”

I scratched my head. If she were to say it’s because of the atmosphere of the cinema and the thrill you get when the big screen jumps at you, I would have saluted her, but clearly she just came because she had nothing better to do and too much money in her purse. It was like an abomination to the cinema – how could you treat such a significant place with such insignificance?
I myself had never been to a same movie in a cinema for more than once. Even when the Titanic mania hit us in the early 2000s, when people compared the number of times they watched that movie in cinema, I would rather scourge the internet looking for that particular chopped scene where Leonardo Di Caprio was painting Kate Winslet.

“This is the 7th times I am watching this,” one of the girl who were watching the movie with me – I was in college at the time – giggled happily and whispered to my ear. I didn’t tell her I had watched that downloaded painting scene more than 7 times.

“7 times?” one of my less illustrious college friends asked. “I would rather have sex 7 times in one night.”

“Can you?” one the girls asked, followed by a round of well-rehearsed chuckle.

At the turn of the century, technology had forced most of those old-fashioned stand-alone cinema houses out of business, replaced by the smaller Cineplex – cinema in a shopping complex with Dolby sound system; not to mention those seedy Laser disc theatres which show compromising uncut pictures. The enjoyed only a short-lived fame though after a few scandals involving people doing compromising stuffs in the theatre while watching compromising scenes.

Like an endless cycle of existence, you started working after those honeyed years in college. My fiery adoration for the cinema was still burning at the time so I joined these movie gang colleagues who go to cinema every Friday night. I wouldn’t say their choice of movie are exactly my cup of tea, but I did tag along from times to times – meeting some interesting people, some obnoxious people and some pretentious people.

Normally after these movie sessions, the movie gang would go for supper in Sri Murni at SS2 – where as expected some people would ask questions like “What do you think of the movie just now?” And where as expected you hear replies like: “Not bad, not bad,” even though I could swear I heard the guy replying snoring in the movie just now.

Well, that’s what you get when you go out with a large gang for movies. After some time, I wondered whether the real intention of that gang was to enjoy the movie at the cinema or to enjoy the close proximity of other human beings, eh, social networking I means. I couldn’t enjoy it much because instead of being overwhelmed by the big screen, I was overwhelmed by body odours and sound or people snoring.

Then the inflation hits.

People became more reluctant to go to cinema. The cineplex tried to counter by introducing Wed discounts and Ladies Nite discount, but still business was a bit slow in the times of downturn.

“It is still the best choice for dating couples,” a cineplex operator told me while we were smoking. “You know la, when you are dating in country like Malaysia, there’s not much choice of activities. Outdoor? The gals are afraid of sunburnt. Going to cinema is still the cheapest and logical option.”

I nodded in agreement, silently wondering when I would have a chance to bring a particular gal to movie for a date.

It might be difficult because the girl I had in mind was already engaged and possibly getting married early the following year. I had this infatuation about her from the first day I met her but never had the courage to tell her. She was the girl I have been looking for - but never found before. So we remained best of friends, and from times to times we would go for lunch or dinner together.

“I think the reason we have so much in common is because we both comes from a small town,” she told me once. “Plus we are both Virgos.”

“Too bad I did not meet you much earlier – before you met your fiancée,” I tried to crack a joke, but it turned out to be awkward and induced a long silence.

When I finally took her to the movie, I was nervous. It was two weeks before her marriage ceremony. If this were a normal date, I would normally choose a horror movie, so when the scary part arrived, you can pretend to calm your date or if you are lucky, you can even get to hold her. But this is not a normal date, I kept reminding myself. This is a girl who every time I see her falling I want to get down on my knees and pray – waiting for the moment when she would said the things I couldn’t say (ok, I stole this lines from the song Bizarre Love Triangle).

So we went to watch Spiderman 2. Never for once that would I expect that movie is to be so emotionally moving. I thought it was a superhero movie – but the unspoken tension between Peter and Mary Jane was played to the utmost, making the unrequited love scenes between them almost unbearable. Who would have expected a director like Sam Raimi who made the quirky and comical Evil Dead trilogy could come up with something like this? It was more like a love story than a superhero story. Especially the part when Mary Jane left her wedding altar to look for Peter – it really killed me.

We didn’t speak much on our way back. I drove her back to her home, my emotions welling up in my heart like the bubbles from a quickly poured beer.

“2 weeks from your marriage…are you nervous?”

“Very…”

Maybe I would never have the chance to say it if I didn’t say it now.

“I have a confession,” I began. “You know how much I love going to the cinema since I was a kid, right?”

“Yes,” she said. “Everybody knows that.”

“Well, to tell you frankly, tonite when I went to the cinema with you, the joy was multiplied.”

She was silent for a while. “So what are you trying to imply? We could still go to the cinemas after I’m married.”

“The truth is…” I told her. “I have always been passionate about movies and cinemas, but after I know you, I realized the passion I had for them is nothing compared to the passion I have for you.”

Another long silence.

“Oh, damn it, Sean. Why do you have to say it? I hate you so much…” she suddenly erupted. “I hate you so much because you make me like you…”

Her lips were on mine before I could say anything. Not that I would want to say anything at that moment.

The City of Beauty

The city of KL and its surrounding Klang Valley is filled with beauties; everywhere you turn your head, you can expect to feast your eyes on at least several of them walking or talking or pretending to ignore you. Compare this to Penang - the city where I grown up in – you can say that Penang is almost like countryside filled with pasture of grass that not only all the beauties shun – even the cows and goats refuse to feed here.

Even the cleaner ladies make-up in KL. In Penang you would be lucky if you can catch a lady with decent make-up even in downtown. The keyword here is decent. No doubt if you prowl in some hip and trendy mall like the Queensbay or the Gurney Plaza, it would be very likely to run into some young high school girls who tried to make-up – but it is very likely that you would feel more repelled than attracted.

The problem is – women in Penang don’t even bother to make-up or attempt to look good. It’s basically a silicon island famous for its semiconductor industry and obviously not for its silicon implant. I have a former unimates who just return to PJ to work after staying in Penang for the past 5 years. She complained to me that she no longer can walk around with her Teambuilding T-shirt, jeans and slippers.

“Now I have to wear high heels and tight working suit. Craps,” she whined.

“You’re an engineer, come on. Why do you need high heels for?” I asked her.

“Two words – peer pressure. Every woman make-up here; how can I afford not to?”

Do you know what a corset is? I used to think this kind of thing only exists in Alexander Dumas’s 3 Musketeer’s tales, but some women in KL actually do wear corset.

This kind of peer pressure may be a bit stressful for some women – not to mention the discomfort they feel from putting on all these super-tight garments – but for guys, it’s an absolutely good thing. Tell me which guy doesn’t like looking at women in formal suit? Gays?

The women here also have better taste when it comes to choice of apparels. Brands like Zara can flourish here but in Penang I think they will go bankrupt within one month. Women dress smartly and elegantly – closely resembling the pin-outs from Cleo and FHM. Maybe because there is more MPH or Borders here where you could read those magazines for free. Whereas in Penang, some women just dress-up like rojak – mix and match – heavily laced top with those skirt and striped three quarter pants…God, don’t they realize they look more like a slut than hot?

Now I understand why all the Penang guys who come to KL never want to go back to Penang. You could meet all sorts of beauties here; just last week I almost managed to have a date with a girl from finance who works as part-time model, but somehow at last minute, she FFKed. That’s OK though – I ended up meeting this hot matured lady with a one-piece spotted dress that resembled a leopard skin in the Finnegan at Sri Hartamas – Growl!!!

It’s so easy to meet and date good looking girls here, my friend Kev told me. I am not sure whether he was bluffing or not, but he told me he could change girl friend almost every week, and good looking one at that.

“Girls here are so easy, dude,” he boasted. “They are not looking for long term or commitment. They just wanna hook up for fun, they just wanna party!”

With his slick haircut and thick eyebrows, he did look convincing – not to mention while we talked, his handphone – a HP IPAQ – rang and he whispered suggestively to me: “See, here is one of them calling me now…my new f**k buddy.”

For a rural guy from Penang like me, it’s real easy to be overwhelmed by all these great temptations – these endless beauties. Tons and tons of available beauties roaming the streets of KL. Drinking joints are abundance with model-like personality. Some of them are pretentious – some of them glaringly fake, but still they are beauties nonetheless. Beauty rules – that’s the reason why some drinking joint can afford to have Ladies Nite every night.

Drinking with some friends in the Laundry Bar at the Curve last night, my eyes never get tired of looking at all the gorgeous girls around me. It’s like a feast of beauty. I slowly sipped my drink and enjoyed the view. This city was really like heaven. But despite all the beauties here, the one you missed the most is always the one you could really talk to – the one that makes you laugh the most.

The Rabbit Feeder

The rabbit refused to gnaw on the carrot. Maybe like her, it has lost its appetite. Her mind was in turmoil – full of heartbreaking images of her father who had shrunken almost down to just skin covering the skeleton.

On her way back from the cafe, she had used her credit from her meal card to buy some carrots for the rabbit. The rabbit was kept in a small garden where the factory workers go for fresh air. Usually, however, not many people go there – because smoking is not allowed. She was hoping by feeding the rabbit, she could give her mind a rest – and stop thinking about the depressing state her father was in. Looking at the rabbit biting at the carrot – its buckteeth working diligently had always given her inner peace. But today, it had failed to achieve that. The rabbit wasn’t co-operating at all.

The diagnose report of her father was finally out – after a few agonizing weeks. It was a lymphatic cancer – a rare case of cancer. The doctor had a hard time making their decision because the symptom was always so near between a lymphoma (a type of blood disease) and a lymphatic cancer. The lymphatic system is a very important part of the body immune system – therefore it couldn’t be treated like a normal case of cancer, direct radiation to the cluster of the malignant cells would kill the immune system as well.

“I would have to completely frank with you, Miss L,” the doctor had said gravely. “The chance of making a full recovery is not high. Nevertheless, we would try our best.”

Weeks earlier, she had been heckling the doctors at a renowned Singapore hospital for the result of her father’s examination. The doctors kept avoiding her and after a futile week there – one of the most expensive hospitals in Singapore, she busted her credit card for that, she had to finally make a decision to move her father back to Malaysia for another examination and subsequent treatment.

“You have to understand, Miss L,” the doctor told her shortly before delivering the result. “The difference between the lymphoma and lymphatic cancer is very delicate. We have to be really sure before arriving at a verdict. It’s not that we are stalling your time. We just need to be really sure…”

Colleagues and boss at work had been very understanding. Nobody bothered her even though the project she is handling is slightly overdue. Her boss came personally to enquire about the condition of her father.

Her mind returned to the presence. The rabbit had gone into hiding – she was still holding the carrot, alone. She tried to look for the rabbit but it was nowhere to be seen.

She turned to go – her heart heavy with despair. She had got to look for another specialist, another doctor, another oncotologist, another hospital – anyone who can give her a more optimistic outlook, a more positive and hopeful verdict. She couldn’t stand the sight of her father withering away just like that; she couldn’t bear the sorrow of seeing him in pain – the least she could do is to keep on looking for a better treatment for him.

Going out of the garden she almost stumbled headlong onto a man. The man was standing at the entrance of the garden, his enormous frame blocking the path. She looked up to apologize – the carrot still in her hand - then recognized the man was actually a colleague working in the same department as her.

It was Po, the new guy who just joined not so long ago. He had this innocent look about him which made him looked like almost a boy in a big man’s body – emphasized by his sometimes clumsy and bumbling manner. She didn’t know him very well but had heard about him being always energetic and enthusiastic in work – constantly motivated.

The man - in bright polo shirt and beige slacks – looked at her with an undecided look. He seemed to be hesitating to say something.

“Are you going out for fresh air?” she asked – trying to break the awkwardness.

“Actually, er…I am looking for you, Miss L,” Po said in a slightly shy tone.

“Looking for me?”

“Yes, I am forming a team for a coming bowling tournament and I wonder whether you would like to join my team.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed, surprised by the invitation. “I am, eh…not good in bowling.”

“It’s OK, I am not good either,” Po said in an elated tone, perhaps trying to persuade her further. “But I am going to do my best, so don’t you worry. Even though I know there will be a lot of strong teams competing, and there is a slim chance of us beating them, we are going to try nevertheless…because as long as we have hope, we will have the direction and the energy to move by.”

She was stunned by his sudden outburst of inspiration. She had always thought of him as a very quiet man.

“When is it, this competition?”

“Next Saturday,” he said – his voice filled with excitement.

“Oh,” she said, suddenly realizing something. “I am so sorry; I wouldn’t be able to make it. I have to cook on Saturday.”

There was a clear disappointment on Po’s face but he gave her a buoyant smile nonetheless. “It’s OK then…I will try to look for someone else.”

He tottered away in his usual gawky manner – his hands swinging every time he takes a step forward.

She looked at him walking away. Strangely, the conversation had an unexpected effect of lifting her mood up a little. She pondered at words he had said - because as long as we have hope, we will have the direction and the energy to move by.

She took a deep breath, and then realized the half bitten carrot was still in her hands. She took a bite – hope was building up in her.

Clubber Cinderella

Once upon a time, back in the days when I was still not sick of clubbing, I used to join this gang of clubbers which consisted mainly of my fellow colleagues. We used to hit the hippest joint in town, partying and drinking till the wee hours of the morning, having hangover and blackened eyes the next day and despite that, we would still tell each others that we were having loads of fun.

One of the most memorable characters from those wild clubbing days was a girl called Cindy. She had this crazy rule that she has to get home by twelve. Because of this we nicknamed her Cinderella. We have no idea why she is such an unsporting person and for God’s sake, she was 28 and all that – but like all true comrades, we accepted her shortcoming hesitatingly. Just to be safe however, the gang leader – Ryan would always ask her to drive herself so as not to inconvenience ourselves – although in reality it might not be so safe for her to drive alone at nights.

Cinderella tried explaining once that she has an evil stepmother with fangs and claws and even horns like Lucifer. The stepmother set a rule that no matter where she is, she must be home by 12 or else all her Bae Yong Joon posters would be confiscated and burned.

On top of this ridiculous rule, the stepmother also brings along two daughters from previous marriage into the family – with evil names of Devila and Lucyfa. These stepsisters of her would torture her to no end, stealing her expensive bra and wearing it without her permission. To make it worse, they didn’t bother to handwash it – just throw it into the washing machine. There goes another one of her Triumph Wonderbra – auch!

Talking about depressing things like this, however, tends to make me depressed – so I would like to skip to more uplifting stuffs, like this one day when Ryan brought along news that there would be this extravagant ball in town on the coming weekend.

“A ball? Is it some kind of parade with a big balloon?” one of the less learned members of our clubbing gang asked.

“No, you idiot. A ball is a party held by rich bored people where the guest must wear pretentious costumes. For clubbers like us, it would the event of the year.”

The organizer, a renowned bachelor from a royal family nicknamed The Playboy Prince, allegedly held the ball to choose his next girlfriend. Since this Playboy Prince was a very rich dude with servants and all that – Ryan conjectured that a lot of gorgeous young women would be dying to be his girlfriend – and hence would be at this particular event.

Every one of us couldn’t wait for this ball of the year - especially the guys. In our opinion, since Playboy Prince would only choose one girl, all the other candidates would be available for other lucky dudes to court. So we went around buying all sorts of costumes in anticipation of this not-to-be-missed party.

The girls in our groups didn’t want to be left out as well – who knows? Maybe Playboy Prince will choose one of them.

The only person who wasn’t looking forward to this ball was Cindy. The reason – as we soon learned – was that her stepsisters were invited as VIPs to the ball, and according to Cindy, they purposely confiscated all her nice dresses and costumes – leaving her with nothing to wear but T-shirts and jeans.

Ryan – who always stood for his gangmembers – tried to think of a way to help her. After much thinking and arching of eyebrows, Ryan finally spoke up:

“In that case, Cindy, since you have nothing nice to wear to the ball, I think the best way is for you to stay home on that night.”

Needless to say, upon hearing Ryan’s words, Cindy was heartbroken and went home to cry. She cried and cried until the day of the ball itself, locking herself in her room and even refusing to go to work.

Her evil stepsisters – in a move to further rub salt to her wound – purposely talked about the ball in a very excited and loud manner every time they passed her room.

When all seems lost, suddenly on the evening of the big event, there was a puff of smoke in Cindy’s room and an old woman with 60s hairstyle and a winged white costume appeared before her. The old woman looked ominously like Lydia Sum, a famous Hong Kong talk show host who passed away not so long ago. Too depressed to be scared, Cindy just looked at the woman listlessly.

“I am your fairy Godmother and I am here to help you,” the Lydia Sum look-alike said.

“Am I dreaming?” Cindy asked.

The old woman ignored her impertinent question and instead she took from behind her a skin tight rubber costume with a matching headcover.

“This will fit you nicely and Playboy Prince would fall for you with no doubt.”

Cindy put the costume up and looked at herself in the mirror.

“I looked like Catwoman,” she said.

“That’s the whole idea. To look irresistible.”

“But what kind of shoes should I wear with this?”

Like a magician, the fairy Godmother took a pair of crystal clear high heels from behind her. “Wear this…a crystal made shoes from Swarovski.”

“It’s so dazzling,” Cindy said and put it on. “And best of all, it’s a correct size!”

Next the issue of transport came up, but the fairy Godmother came well prepared. She told Cindy to look out of the window and lo, behold – there was a BMW and with a Bangladesh driver waiting for her outside.

To cut our story short, moments later, the BMW was cruising towards the location of the ball with the excited Cindy inside. She arrived to standing ovation and the Prince was dumbfounded because he had never seen someone in rubber skin suit before. For the rest of the night, Cinderella and the prince were constantly in each other’s company, and the two sisters, who did not even recognize their own stepsister, were rather flattered when Cindy said “Hi” to them.

The hours flew by so fast that Cindy did not even notice the time until the clock began to strike midnight. Knowing well that her stepmother would be infuriated if she didn’t get home, with a cry of alarm she fled from the room. One of the glass high-heels flew from her foot and landed on Playboy Prince’s head, knocking him unconscious.

When the prince came to his senses, Cindy was already gone. The prince grabbed the Swarovski high heel and said determinedly: “I must find this woman no matter what.”

The next day, the search for the owner of the high heels began. Playboy Prince paid a bunch of private investigators and after days of investigations, they managed to narrow down the most probable owners down to the house where Cindy was living – after allegedly obtaining information from a Bangladeshi driver who said that he was hired by a fat old woman to drive a woman in rubber suit to a ball from that house.

The prince – upon hearing this – went to Cindy’s house in person. He held a glass shoe on one hand and announced that any lady in the house who could fit the shoe on her foot and could produce the pair would be his wife. Both stepsisters tried, but their feet were too montrous to squeeze in. In the end Cindy begged to try, and, to the scorn of her sisters, the prince agreed.

The glass high heel slipped easily on, and Cindy pulled the matching pair from her pocket.

The prince was overjoyed. However, the jealous stepsisters decided on the spur of the moment to sabotage Cindy’s happy moments. They poured hot boiling waters on her and Cindy cried out in agony, her face scalded badly.

The Playboy Prince’s joy turned into disgust.

“Crap,” he said. “How could I marry a woman with a face like this?”

With that, he turned to walk away – and Cindy would never see him in her life again.

Cindy – scarred for life by her stepsister’s irresponsible jealousy – related the whole story to us. Although her face did look burned in a way, we found it hard to believe her story hundred percent.

Ryan – who always stood by his clubbing friends no matter what – tried to think of a way to console her. After much thinking and arching of eyebrows, Ryan finally spoke up:

“Cindy, I think you should not go clubbing with us anymore. This face of yours is kind of embarrassing…”