Uneventful Christmas Night

December 25th, 2007 by nazrig

Uneventful Christmas Night

11pm, 25 December 2007, Gombak

Telling myself not to lie

Asking if I could explore myself if I may

Be honest, I’d say

Of what could have been

If I could re-write the play

On different setting as the fat lady sings

Would you done it differently?

Living and breathing on regrets

Of what would have come and what would have been gone

This yellow brick road

Is not straightforward

It is of paths and junctions and mazes

Memories evoked

Looking at self destructed person, drowning soaked

A person which I used to be acquainted with

Thoughts of the past:

Thorny, so thorny are you

I’m all bleeding

Lonely, lonely are you

in the land of the whites

Drowned in noisy crowd, so isolated, looking so dejected

Why, why are you such cowards

No freedom of speech and no expression

Why didn’t you just do it, just say it?

Mind of a child, how can you ever figured it out?

What words to choose and what actions to impress?

Blurry mind had been smoked out

A City Frozen In Time

June 29th, 2007 by nazrig

Arriving at the new Yangon airport, I was impressed. 30 minutes ago while staring at Myanmar landscape from the sky, I had expected otherwise. I had thought of something much worser than this. From the window of the airplane, it seems that the land is just acres of paddy fields with the occasional wooden house appearing. Nearing the airport though, I saw lines of wooden houses depicting "kampong" scenery. What the hell. Where’s the Yangon city?

This is Myanmar, a country which I’ve never heard anyone wants to go to for tourist visit. I am quite perturbed to come here due to the military governance that is similar to communist sort of governance. Control of society and lack of freedom is the adopted ideology as apposed to the ones claimed by the democracy ideology. The US and EU have economic sanctions on this country prohibiting direct US or EU countries investments. I had expected military personnel wearing fearsome looks at the immigration counter. I am pleasantly surprised as the "immigration officers" are actually lovely young girls who always wear smiling faces. I didn’t expect this.

Because of the Kampong houses I saw earlier, I expected a crappy airport but instead the newly built airport (completed last May 07), looks great and moderately modern. It is a little bit quiet in the airport as there aren’t too many visitors here. On the plane beforehand, there were many seats being vacant. Only a few airplanes are allowed to land here and most of them are from the ASEAN countries although all of them are only small planes.

After getting our luggage, we went out to the arrival hall. Well, well, well, this is my day indeed. One lovely girl is waiting for us outside holding a placard bearing our names. Her name is Gi Khai or something sounded like that. She can speak accomplished English, and for me it is quite an achievement due to the backwardness of this land. She explained, the name of the nation is Burma and the people are called Burmese. However, the country name is Myanmar and she can’t explain why the military government changed the name. I knew scarcely from conversations with local people and Malaysians who reside here that Burma used to be the modern nation of South East Asia. They built the first airport in South East Asia. They got the independence around the same era as Malaysia. Astonishing as it sounds, the country seems to be frozen in time.

The first thing a foreign visitor would quickly notice is that 99.9% of the Burmese male adult wears sarong. I mean in the airport, at hotel, in the streets, everywhere. From the manager to the bell boy, all are clad in sarong. It seems that it is their national costume. They even without a tinge of shame would loosen their sarong a bit and to tighten their sarong again in the streets as if they’re inside their home.

After freshening up at the hotel, we went downstairs to have a walk a bit at the Yangon town. How do I describe the Yangon city? It is quite hard. There are buildings around but not so much crammed as Bangkok or KL. It is a rather small city planted with buildings at a lesser size and short in height. A series of old British bungalows at the roadside can be seen as well as shop houses which resembled a small town in Perak or something like that. There are a lot of wooden shops around. The currency in Myanmar is worthless outside the country. I tried to change some but none of the money changers in KL has that currency. It is not allowed to be traded outside of the country. Even after I traded some US dollars for Kyats (Myanmar currency) in an old wooden shop in Yangon, I am not allowed to change back to USD by their law. I have to spend all my Kyats as they’re worthless piece of paper back home. The guy who drove us to the client office only earns a meager sum of USD 40/month. He told us his salary and we were stunned to hear the sum. The payment for house rent is USD 30/month. We asked him back, how can he survive with USD 10? How can he eat? Luckily for him, he said his company provides lunch, so he can barely scrape through. This is just to portray the kind of hardship these people have to endure in their life. We have to be thankful.

I am dismayed to see the economic state of the people. There were children coming like a swarm of bees towards me. They are homeless and poor children as I see it. I can understand from their sign language (hand) and their sad wailing indicated that they’re hungry. Earlier, our manager bought each of us one mango ready to be eaten.  I had to give them the mango as I am totally heart broken inside to see their state. Not wearing any shoes or slippers of any sorts, their clothes is so dirty as if it has not been cleaned ever. Their faces and physical outlook depicts uncleanliness and they may not take a bath in quite a while. This situation evokes certain feelings inside of me, a feeling of pity and sadness for these children. They’re denied the chance for an education and for a good life. What are to become of them?

When a country lacked foreign investment from rich nations, this is what happens to the people. Who do we blame? The western countries for the sanctions or the government? I thought the latter is more of a guilty party. There are foreign investments but very much limited to countries like Malaysia, Japan, Thailand, etc. There is no handphone roaming here as the government blocked foreign telecommunications companies here. No Maxis international roaming line here. And I have to mention in order to get a handphone you would have to pay an enormous amount of money, something in the region of US dollars 2,000 (+/-RM 7,000) and added to that one year waiting list. Bloody hell. New car is NOT allowed to be sold in the country. So, my 1985 Toyota Corona would be a lavish form of transportation to the Burmese. A crappy car would cost at cheapest USD10,000 (probably 30 years old of age or more). The old fashioned Pajero I rode cost around USD 70,000. I can buy a brand new Volvo in Malaysia with that kind of money.

Internet connection is also very much limited. No hotmails and yahoo mails can be used. I think the internet provider is not using US made technology and that’s why we cannot access the said sites mentioned above. The only email that would work is the gmail. All said, I was very much disconnected to the outside world. No handphones and no internet. None of my family members know of my hotel; and even if I can be contacted at the hotel, most of my time is spent outside of my hotel room. My point is that this country is so backward, to better describe it: it is like like Malaysia 40 or 50 years ago. The whole environment of this place to be summarised upon: the sarong they wear, the buildings (or the lacked of it), the kampong village, the hungry children at the street pestering you for food, the old fashioned cars, no connections with the outside world (neither handphone line nor internet), and the scarcity of all that modern stuff. The lacked of pace of the people here and quiet background is a refreshing moment for me to cherish these few days before coming back home to hectic KL.

I am back home now at the comfort of my living room writing this. I have no conclusion to this article I write. I just hope to share my experience and for you to reflect something on this. Having the knowledge by reading my article is different from actually experiencing it. I just hope you guys can empathise and imagined a bit on the conditions of some unfortunate people living somewhere on this planet. Cheers.

Dejected

March 24th, 2007 by nazrig

Life is like a wheel of ups and downs. Sometimes things go really smooth, all are fantastic, all rosy. Sometimes things just get ugly, you’re unhappy inside, suffering and just have no powers to change things. I don’t know, it has to do a bit with what you feel inside, your mood? Is it a determinant factor of the your location on the wheel, whether upside or downside? The surrounding is not a determinant, and how you approach things determined whether you’re up or down. That doesn’t sound right. The surrounding is an important factor no matter how much you motivates yourself to keep that happiness sticking with you.

You motivate yourself when the going gets tough, the tough gets going? Or if it is related to your loved ones, like argument, misunderstanding, or plain lies, what do you do? Can’t get the tough man out of you. Pained. Sick.

I don’t claimed to have all the answers to life fundamental philosophy questions. I’m sure that Akademi Fantasia is not the solution - I’m hearing the theme song from the tv right now. I’ve had bad days that i thought that "Bad Luck" just stuck onto me. You know little things which pisses you off like missing the turn which you absolutely have to make as the U-Turn is like kilometres away, or your house keys are lost and you can’t get inside, or such craving for a cigarette but you can’t find a lighter anywhere, or your laptop fell onto the road because the bag’s tie broke suddenly, you lost RM 400 because some asshole crept into your car and stole it, and on top of it every single shit you can imagine happen in a single day. It happened to me, most of the things described above in a single day plus some additional shitty things. My money got stolen but luckily not on the same day. Or else, maybe I’d have a nervous breakdown because I’d think the divine power above hates me.

Had a fight with my fiancee. You know, the thoughts come back to haunt you, is my decision the correct one? Financial problems, and I hate to take loans as it enslaves you.

How do we approach such downside of life? After such bad lucks one after another in one single day, you just have to think of people in Africa and famine, people who had been diagnosed with cancer or leaukemia, people who lost their sight, or legs and arms due to accident and after that you’d think to yourself…this is such trivial matters to be concerned about. I was so frustrated and feeling dejected. When I got home (luckily someone inside the house heard me or else have to sleep outside due to lost of keys), I changed my clothes and relaxed on the bed. I read The_Quran. Leaving everything to Allah because I am powerless, I am His servant who can’t handle all these trivial matters. I just go to sleep. Morning time still the burden is there but I never thought seriously about it.

Cheers guys. I hope you have an upside wheel of life to enjoy now because you’d be really messed when your time is up to be on the downside of Life’s Wheel.

Sichuan and Me

March 1st, 2007 by nazrig

Sitting in this cramped seat inside an Air China airplane is really uncomfortable. All these chinese around me. Well, to think of it, it’s not actually weird having chinese surrounding you. I comes from Malaysia anyway. It’s good to have a close contact with the homeland of Malaysian chinese, which is China. To tell you the truth. I find China mystifying. This land holds 1.5 billion human being of various ethnicities that it is unfair to generalise people of China. Some of the ladies here are beautiful indeed.

~

I’m on my way to Chengdu, to meet the clients. Went to Guangzhou first (transit) before proceeding my way in an Air China fleet. I had waited in Guangzhou airport for four hours. As usual, journeys aren’t completes with little things that happen which coloured my travel. In one of the forms given by Chinese customs, there is one particular that addressed on your health. I guess to combat the spreading of bird flu virus or something related, they’ll have you declare your current health condition. I had ticked "cough" box. I don’t know why I ticked that. Maybe I was intimidated by the legal wordings on the form, warning visitors of prosecution or whether I’m just damn too "skema". I had a bit of coughing since last week. Flu as well. That day, it only reduces to coughing. I can’t hold these coughs, and afraid I might throw out one in front of the custom officers. I was taken to a small room. All eyes of various human race (Japanese, chinese and caucasians) were casted on me. I was there as a celebrity. The small room is in fact some sort of quarantine room. I had my temperature checked, my throat checked, and being interrogated of my current health problem in detailed. I was afraid that they might keep me in that room until my flight home which is 2 days later. Luckily, the officer let me off after taking contact details.

~

I had my first chinese tea at the airport coffee shop. Really great. This land had seen civilisations thousands of years ago. One of the first human civilisation to surfaced on earth.

~

My worries started the next day. To give presentations to customer. At first I did not feel any pressure. They don’t understand English. I had the China Office manager as a translator. Every words that came out of my mouth was translated in Mandarin. The connection to the client now has a barrier. That barrier is Wilson, the manager in our company’s Beijing office. The client, they are like any other customers in Malaysia. Demanding. Always pointing to mistakes. Hentam gila-gila. Although I do not understand a single words they’re saying, their facial expression, the sound and intonation of their voice revealed everything. My manager translates in a softer voice to me, but I very well understand the pressure cooker situation I had found myself in. I did managed to get out of the rut. The details in explanation on how I managed that would involved some technical engineering mambo-jumbo and I’m sure all of you wouldn’t want to read this crap.

~

After presentation is my time to enjoy China before I depart tomorrow morning. Yes, I am in China now. The land of oppurtunities. I’m inside my hotel room, resting after that battle I had. My boss was certainly relaxed. I know that he had done this thousands of time (more than 30 years of experience). This is only my second client meeting. Nothing much to this writing today.

~

Cheers guys.

Of God’s Power & Human Technology

January 3rd, 2007 by nazrig

The earthquake off Taiwan certainly makes it a bit harder to work. I have realised how much a business depends on the internet, emails, and CItrix, in order to function more efficiently. Without these, suddenly my company becomes totally handicapped and it makes life harder for us. I just couldn’t send/receive emails, I couldn’t work on citrix, I couldn’t function properly. I think that is enough of keluh kesah. A lot more people are suffering in this world…

Flower of Love
Bukit Jelutong, 31st Dec 06, 3.00 am

Starry night sky as our roof, On top of a hill,
Under an umbrella, wasn’t protecting self from the rain but from sorrowful pain,
It all ended without me knowing what’s happening,
Shunted out, shoved aside,
Blurred, seeking for a meaning of everything,

Still have that flicker of light under the chest,
Exhaustive of effort, needed to rest,
See it in my mind everyday,
Hoping for a glimpse of that silhouette
Of the lost flower.

Why such burden resides under my heart,
Heavy waves came to blot that light.

Departed for the garden,
Made my presence known,
Hearing the sounds of truth – how truth hurts,
Going home dejected, officially wearing a “rejectist” tag
How long I felt the journey home was.

The vague Van Gogh’s paintings of the past,
Rewinding, staring at them for answers,
The answers lie in these clues: stagnated smell, constant pathways, and monotonous mind numbing events,
Tried everything I could to revive those colours, to bring back cheers,
Still, insipid moments prevailed
Vain, vain, vain.

Why such burden resides under my heart,
Heavy waves came to blot that light

How conceited I was,
“Proud” was polluting this blood,
Arrogance is the face that I wore, such a swagger!
Realised of true self, I am ashamed,
Hating oneself, rather self destruct.
Why the action of pleasing others does exist?
Of wanting others to like that soiled self, and
I can’t be blaming you as I hated my old self as well,

In my current situation and time has moved years later on:

To hell with those souls! Reminding self to seek the pleasure of God instead,
All the worlds are against you, but to be at God’s side…..
Purifying oneself, learning of sincerity,
I am at peace.

Northbridge Memory

December 28th, 2006 by nazrig

So many things have unfolded in my life and yet my life could still be in an infant stage. In about 2 months and some few days in the future, I would have lived in this world for 28 years. It’s 1.19 am in the morning, and I’m unfolding in my mind the events that had happened in the last few years. Names of people I’ve met, the scenarios of things that had happened, lesson learned, and feelings of being ashamed of the idiotic self left in the past, all resurfaced back and I’m amazed that all those things were my reality and that they did occur.

Last Monday was Christmas. As usual, nothing eventful happened. It is Malaysia anyway. I remembered walking past a Mall in Hyde Park in Sydney to get to work. The same Christmas song being sang by the recorded children’s voices and moving robotic puppets at the shopping windows. At that time I was so pissed off as the song kept playing in my mind that I thought that I was going insane. Hearing the same song on a daily basis would do that to you. In Australia, Christmas is in the summer time and it is bloody hot believe me. The temperature there is much higher than in Malaysia.

Every morning I joined a crowd of people to get into the bus in Randwick. Randwick is synonymous for the race course – horse race event every month. Drunken Caucasians, smartly dressed in business suits probably won or loss their fortune and the only way to celebrate or to forget is by drinking booze. I wonder where the morality in drinking alcohol is. I got off at Hyde Park and walked through the shopping district and arrived somewhere near the Queen Victoria Building. This building is quite magnificent, an old European style building which holds some famous branded shops inside. The walks to Wynyard station would always be quicker at the start of the day but later in late evening; it would be a slow and tired walk. Everyday, the same thing would welcome me during the walks. The ever dull sound of recorded children singing Christmas song, one smelly homeless guy sleeping at the sidewalk and with him a cardboard telling the story of his life (if he can write and read, why can’t he find work????), a uniformed doorman opening the door to cheerful shoppers, birds chirping away at the bus stop, and so on. A rather eventful walk to Wynyard, I would say. While waiting for a bus, I’d always write up something, scrapping something at my little old black notebook. The bus would then take me to Northbridge. Quite far away from Randwick but there lies my only source of income.

I worked in Woolworths in Northbridge. Just the location but I’m not actually employed by Woolworths. My colleague at work, my good mate from Sudan named Pel. We’re the minority non-Arabs working there as most of the others are all Iraqis. Pel is a thin African man but really tall that you could easily mistaken him as an NBA basketball player. A morally good Christian and holds dual nationality of Sudan and Ethiopia, Pel is so strong that you wonder if added some flesh to that skinny body of his, he’d be more frightening than any WWF wrestler.

What kind of work did you do?”, I figured you would ask. A back-breaking one I would answer back. I work for 13-14 hours a day pushing 15-18 trolleys at one time using a machine which you always cannot always count on its reliability. The bloody machine always can’t climb the hilly road while pushing the train of trolleys - it once fell downhill and hit a car, and sometimes you can’t make it stop, with the train of trolleys hitting the glass door would be common and getting yelled at by the Woolly’s (Woolworths) staff. The pay is way too low from the market price. AUD 9 per hour. Please don’t start converting to RM as things aren’t priced in RM there. It’s cheap labour and the big boss who is a Korean guy is making heaps of money not paying our taxes. I remembered the homeless guy I stumbled upon every day. He’s bloody fatter than me. Not working and getting free meals on a daily basis, while I’m here trying to earn a living doing a back-breaking job is thin as a drug addict. Now, welcome to the real world Nazri. Why the hell would I want to do this job? I have a Masters degree and I used to work in an air-conditioned office as an engineer at a consultant firm. Now that does sound prestigious, doesn’t it? Actually it isn’t. You’re just in the end a “kuli” no matter what the job scope is and how you’d dressed. There, I am as good as garbage. By just looking the colour of my skin, it resembled poor, un-educated, un-cultured, and probably an Indonesian terrorist. The truth is I do not want to get home to Malaysia just yet. I have no money left and I’m as poor as the next homeless guy. I didn’t want to trouble my parents back home. I had lived there for a year on my own money and do not intend to trouble them asking for money. I had no scholarships, no loans whatsoever. I originally wanted to gamble going there and later asking for government loans. My plan backfired so badly. I had to work even though it is as a general labour. Now I know how those Bangladeshis and Indonesian people in Malaysia felt like. The tendency of the local community to look down on you, and who can blame them when hanging on your body are a dirty shirt, worn out jeans and old sports shoes, and while taking the bus back home reeking of foul stench. If you miss this 9pm bus, you would be waiting for 2 hours for the next bus from Northbridge to Sydney and that is pretty awful. It happened to me a few times.

Those Iraqis are lazy lot, preferring to laze around doing nothing and chatting away instead of working. I gained my physical strength by working this hard labour work. I got into a fight with one of the Iraqis. His name was Salman if I’m not mistaken. Just can’t remember why the guy grabbed my shirt at the neck and wants a fist fights. I guess I annoyed him. To get respect, we must first respect others and this is a universal rule. He never respected me, didn’t even flicker a smile, and always wears an arrogant look on his face. In turn, he didn’t get my respect and I always didn’t hear his instructions. What the heck. There’s one guy called Akil, the supervisor, Iraqis as well. He’s a nice man, hardworking and considerate towards others.

Lunch time is a favourite of mine. Thirty minutes of rest and peace and quiet at the basement parking. Eating homemade rice and lauk packed in a Tupperware. I would finish every single beads of rice without a doubt. The work made me hungry and yet I didn’t gain a single kilo from the heavy lunch.

Looking back, I can’t believe it happened. Now, I’m all smartly dressed to work with a pretty good pay check. It is all the opposite of what I had in Sydney. I guess at that time knowing that I will not work as a labourer for eternity does indeed made me thankful. Looking back, what an experience!

Short Conversation

Wynyard 22nd January 2005

You looked so relaxed and casual

The hurricane blazes through my soul

Trying to be composed

The wind is still blowing inside of me

Strongly

I apologize for being choosy

I only wanted to prolong this conversation

Those sweet Australian accent

Less feminine, but made me smile inside

So, you’re a Christian, aren’t you?

A golden cross as necklace

Yeah, I noticed that.

I saw your nametag: KELLY

Too common a name for such a beautiful angel as this

You’ll go home with no effect of this

Me? Nothingness filling me

Writer’s Arch Nemesis

September 5th, 2006 by nazrig

When we’re expressing a point of view it can represents a certain degrees of your intellect. It shows the thinking pattern, the individuality of a man, with the different path taken when coming to a conclusion. Some would have weak argument that can be easily smashed by people with higher intellect. By writing my thoughts some of you might spot my weakness in my thinking pattern. That’s the arch nemesis of writers: the critics. Some people might get dispirited and weaken with criticism. I might be exposed with some of my thoughts and ideas. Well, actually in philosophy every argument can be countered with series of rational arguments since it is based merely on logic with the limited knowledge we have. Life comes with criticism. Man can feel good in gunning other people down. It is the feeling of superiority that counts for them.

.

I don’t know why I am writing the above paragraph, it’s just that I have my own rationale arguments of killing another guys writing on his view on something. And I’m wondering are there people outside there compiling mentally their own arguments to my thoughts and ideas? I’ve read some other people’s blogs and I can see the comments posted being direct arguments of the writer’s presentation in the writing. While I fancy reading those with some of the comments made me guffawed hard with their own brilliance, I feel for the writer as well. It depends on the writer to stand his ground or just keep his silence. The lesson I learn is that never to accept another people’s idea in the first instance of reading but keep your brain working on countering those. At first glance the writing might be impressive in its presentation of ideas with entertaining read and style of writing, free flowing words and all, and smooth building blocks of ideas. Look under the surface and not the persuasive language being used to influence you. Ty to look at the ideas themselves. It took me weeks to find counter arguments to a blog writing I read. I was agreeing to the point at first but as time goes on I kept thinking and finding counter arguments to those views I had read earlier. I wouldn’t want to humiliate the writer, that’s why I do not believe in belittling others just for the sake of feeling of superiority or wanting to correct other. If I have to, I’d rather email personally to that person instead. This comes about my belief in moral ethics of not wanting to humiliate a person in public because of a want to impose my views. If we are to correct those views so that other readers would take ours as the correct ones, does it mean that we have an ego inside of us to be more dominating? Anyway, this is just a view, which could lead to further criticism as it is in a way a counter to the global blogging cultures nowadays and a direct attack on the advocacy of freedom of speech. Maybe in some cases we aught to do that. Maybe it comes about what is our real intention is, the niat.

.

In The Star newspaper today (26th Aug 06), there is writing by a reader that suggests a blogger must have an open mind as the internet is an avenue for freedom of speech and that a blogger must accept damaging comments to his ideas. Topic that brings attention according to the writer is of religion, race, and politics, and these topics are magnet for criticism.

.

Maybe I just aught to tell the tales of my life instead of addressing these heavy issues. Is it because I’m afraid of criticism? Chicken (I’m hearing those chicken sounds in my head)? I’m concluding that however great a writer is, he is always drawn to criticism as he’s exposing his writing to the people he wants to reach in the first place which are the readers themselves. In Asia, maybe we’re not as direct as the Westerners and couldn’t take criticism as the Westerners would. Yeah, I guess the different cultures shaped our behaviour and thinking pattern. Asians are more courteous and more careful in constructing their words. Sometimes criticism are indirect for example for the Malays who would use “kiasan & perli” or indirect criticism. They’re an art form of saying the things in its underlying form, the person in question (the one being criticised) would understand as the saying goes, “Whoever eats the chilli would feel hot”. I hate debates anyway, and I would always leave them as it is. Sometimes, we’re persuaded by the evil Satan to have this destructive emotion of hatred in our hearts. Better to leave the debates and arguments with yourself being confused than having the hatred in the heart.

The Silence

September 5th, 2006 by nazrig

The Silence

The silence comes from both ends,

I don’t know about shattered heart, whether I can mend,

Mine is still hurt, and broken,

She shot an arrow as a token.

I’m standing on the grounds of egoistical hill,

I’m stubborn, and I’m indignant,

Are those mixed emotions my masters, and I am their servant?

I hate fights and debates,
I hate quarrels and squabbles,

I hate bickers and disputes,

Where is serenity when I need you?

A walk in the labyrinth of confusion,

For every end lies the uneasy feeling,

For every end lies the awkwardness of asking, of wanting forgiveness,

For every end lies the hard part of forgiving and accepting,

The end of this labyrinth of confusion is the act of pretending that everything is smooth, pretending things are back to normal whereas it won’t never be.

I’m navigating the waves pretending the rocking isn’t work of the storm,

I’m sailing the sea pretending of the non-existence of this heavy rain,

I’m looking at the vast horizon pretending the dark clouded pattern is of the tranquil blue,

Fire is still there,

I hate those sword crossings we had,

I wish they won’t occur, that I would just concur,

Is this gender differentiation the reason for those battles?

Is the way we perceive our worlds are in stark contrasts?

I see yellow, you see blue?

At the end of it I’d say to you,

“Nothing to worry about, it’s just a storm in a tea cup”

Written at Gombak, on 20th August 2006

Dialogues of Two Old Friends

August 25th, 2006 by nazrig

G’Day readers. First of all I want to thank you for your time in reading my writings. I still think my writings are not up to scratch, not up to the standards I have placed with my view in comparison with some fantastic reading I had done in the past. I’m delighted with some comments from you guys. I got one view particularly from a friend in Australia. She had written me an email to convey her views on my blog entry titled: “Weird Saturday” and we ended up exchanging ideas through emails. I had the fantastic opportunity to get to know her in Australia, and often we had meetings at the McDonald’s in Barker Street to read each others writings and poetries and also to discuss heavy issues and to be relaxed while discussing these things. Our discussion ranges from religion to philosophies to life in general and our experiences. I had plenty of fun in those moments. I shall publish the related exchanges here for you fine readers to ponder upon and maybe learn something from it. I have the permission from my friend to publish her comments. For obvious reasons I’ve withheld the names (change to other names to protect identity) and other personal exchanges I think is irrelevant to the said agenda. I would also like to point out that this essay is not an entirety my own ideas and writings but composed of her writings and ideas as well. I would like to give her credit for this. Enjoy reading!

Email dated 28th July 2006.

Hi Nazri,

Have been reading your blog…very interesting… Just a little food for
thought … your latest entry on sensitivity seemed a little odd to me. I
dunno, perhaps sensitivity is different from sentimentality and is not that
gendered. Although I’m female, I think crying (whether at the movies or in
times of distress) /explicit displays of emotion are a weakness for both
sexes - a failure of rationality/problem-solving skills and a lack of self-
control … perhaps that’s an odd p.o.v… not really sure…

Anyway, enjoy writing and good luck…

Eve*

* (I dunno why I chosed to change to this name, it sounds good actually, what the heck)

Email dated 30th July 2006.

Eve,

I have been getting better thank you. Back at work although still have some coughing and sore throat.

Thank you for pointing out the chauvinistic attitude in my writing. I agree that sentimentality is weakness for both sexes and not just for a male. Totally agree with that. But consider this, if a female cries, it is considered acceptable by the general public as the public has a perception that women are emotionally fragile compared to the male (I think I’m included in the general public perception/view). For a male, it is not acceptable due to the masculinity characteristic expectation of the general public of a man. Due to this general public perception of which we are required to adhere to, we have to act properly in order to avoid being considered a freak of nature. How sometimes I hate the general public in certain aspects. For the public, it won’t be considered a weakness to a female to display sentimentality especially in movie theatres…

Sensitivity is different from sentimentality but almost similar.

Sensitivity:

1) Responsive to external conditions or stimulation, or
2) susceptible to the attitudes, feelings, or circumstances of others, or
3) quick to take offense; touchy.

Whereas sentimentality is defined as:
"A thought, view, or attitude, especially one based mainly on emotion instead of reason".

Why I say almost similar is because sensitivity is "susceptible to external conditions or responsive in emotional terms" of which comes to being absent of rationality.

Although in crying in times of distress, it display a total lack of self control or failure of rationality as you pointed out, it actually a good way to relieve some of the excesses emotional baggage in order to regain our capability in having rationality thought back. Don’t you agree? Succumb to emotion first to relieve the tension, before reflecting and thinking of solution in a more rationale way after emotion bearing no influence in our judgment.

Thanks for pointing it out anyway. I have to improve my vocabulary powers to be able to portray my views better in writing.

I miss those days where we can discuss philosophy or anything….

Regards,
Nazri

Email dated 7th August 2006.

Dear Eve,

Your last comment on my writing evoke past memories in me…"Now, where have I been reading this rationale & emotion correlation thing?". My old acquaintance last time when I travelled alone to Melbourne, had written a philosophy essay on this. It is quite interesting actually. Do check it out.

http://thomasaurusrex.blogspot.com/2005/04/emotional-truth-presentation.html

And by the way, he did wrote about my visit to Melbourne last time.

Check this out:

http://thomasaurusrex.blogspot.com/2005_02_06_thomasaurusrex_archive.html

Ok Eve, catch up with you later.

Regards,
Nazri

Email dated 12th August 2006.

Hi Nazri,

Hadn’t realised how similar the definitions of sensitivity and sentimentality were…interesting.  Sensitivity had a positive ring to me (being aware of the emotions of others, warmth) whereas sentimentality sort of reminded me of the days where young maidens would sigh and yearn for their true love, (preferably a knight in shining armour) to come riding past and sweep them off their feet.  If taken in this way, I guess we could picture a sensitive man but not a sentimental one.  I guess the ‘general public’ differs between countries, such that the male/female dichotomy is more pronounced in Malaysia/other Asian countries e.g. Hong Kong than in Australia, say.  Yeah, probably time for viewpoints to change.  Not quite sure what you meant by ‘emotions’ being a ‘stronghold’ for women, though… 

Have recently joined the women’s collective at uni.  Thought I’d share their ‘feminist manifesto’ with you, as a counterpart to the ‘masculine stereotype’….the rigidity of society’s viewpoints, sigh…(Not to worry, I’m not trying to attack you because you’re a man :)…I’m still pondering over how much truth the quote contains…)   

‘Because a woman’s work is never done and is underpaid or boring or repetitious and we’re the first to get the sack and what we look like is more important than what we do and if we get raped it’s our fault and if we get bashed we must have provoked it and if we raise our voices we’re nagging bitches and if we enjoy sex we’re nymphos and if we don’t we’re frigid and if we love women it’s because we can’t get a “real” man and if we ask our doctor too many questions we’re neurotic and/or pushy and if we expect community care for children we’re selfish and if we stand up for our rights we’re aggressive and “unfeminine” and if we don’t we’re typical weak females and if we want to get married we’re out to trap a man and if we don’t we’re unnatural because we still can’t get an adequate safe contraceptive but men can walk on the moon and if we can’t cope or don’t want a pregnancy we’re made to feel guilty about abortion and…’ 

I guess I meant showing destructive emotions (e.g. crying, aggression, provoking others) vs positive emotions (e.g. passion, love etc.) in public.  Perhaps succumbing to the destructive emotions in private is ok, as you said, it paves the way for the rejuvenation of rational thought, although it is something I find hard to do. 

I agree with a lot of what your acquaintance, Thomas, writes.  ‘That rational arguments are always intertwined with emotion, belief and intuition.’  That ‘rational choices’ display ‘emotional biases’.  That Art perhaps is a ‘non-factual, emotional truth’.  And the mood/emotion…sadness (possibly inclusive of the destructive tendencies I mentioned earlier?) /love distinction.  The linearity of rationalism and the infinite array of potential truths found in emotion.  Actually, it’s quite a timely piece to read because I’ve just read Nietzsche’s ‘The Birth of Tragedy’ and his ‘Truth and Lies in the non-moral sense’ ( I think that’s the name) so have just come across the quote ‘truths are illusions which we have forgotten are illusions’.  I think Nietzsche also says something about truths as being artistic creations themselves because they’re expressed by arbitrary linguistic designations/metaphors…  Also something about Socrates’ dissenting/intuitive voice being the source of his wisdom, rather than his rational tendencies. 

So, should we place equal importance on rationality and emotions…or only positive/enabling emotions or both positive and destructive emotions?  Any thoughts?

Btw, have you read Heidegger’s ‘Being and Time’?  (In one of your blog entries, you wrote on the topic of death… I think Heidegger writes some interesting stuff on ‘death’ in section 6 of ‘Being and Time’.)

Anyway, thanks for your emails…

Regards,
Eve

Email dated 15th August 2006.

Hi Eve,

Your last email had taken me a few days to reflect and think back my philosophical arguments backed of rationality. To start it with let me give my own definition of Philosophy:  “a branch of knowledge which acts as a tool in finding truths which consist of rational and logical arguments based on one’s own assertions”.

Tom’s assertion is that emotion being intertwined with rationality/logic conclusion in his quote, “It seems to me as if what we take to be our purely rational arguments are always intertwined with emotion, belief, and intuition.” He put out his basis of logic on his arguments to support his assertion on the emotion & rational correlation, and which he put forth as truth in his conclusion. He also put forth an experiment by Antonio Damasio of which further proves how one’s with diminished emotion can’t make an intelligent life’s decision even though possessing high IQ scores. He has presented his truth on his arguments based on logic and rational. But does his arguments/conclusion smeared with “emotion” all over the place. I believe so. It’s quite challenging to find counter arguments to his views and I do agree with him. My view is that a true philosopher mustn’t immediately agree with another philosopher’s views but must in his turn try to find arguments to counter the logic before agreeing.

Back to your remark: “Not quite sure what you meant by ‘emotions’ being a ‘stronghold’ for women, though… “. I didn’t mean in my writing that emotion is a stronghold for women and I’m sorry if this has made you confused to think that my writing is that of a chauvinist. Look back at my passage :
“That’s why I view myself as a bit artistic instead of using the wimp word of "sensitive". I’m not a wimp. Yea, this is a weakness for a man. We don’t need to feel sensitive. It shows weakness instead of stronghold shelter for women.”
What I meant was that a man should be a stronghold shelter for a woman and if he starts crying (i.e sensitive), it shows he is weak because he is succumbing easily to emotions. Man crying is an impediment for women to find her support since she’s also influenced by her own emotion. You could interpret it that I am a chauvinist who that thinks a woman will most surely cry/succumb to emotions, and that if both of them (man and woman) cry in times of distress, how can the woman find her support? Sorry for that. I guess the man/woman dichotomy is strong in Asia as you’ve pointed out that I myself should get away from this thinking. I meant that a man should become stronghold for a woman in times of distress. So I said “It is a weakness instead of stronghold shelter for women.” The sentence is clearly misleading I must admit. Am I clear enough or still confusing you?

In the manifesto of the feminist organization you wrote, I’m intrigued with this whole subject of feminism. The manifesto displays a total sense of extreme displeasure at what the feminist deemed as what the society perceived of women. It also displays a certain degree of extreme paranoia of what they claim as the truth of the society’s view. I totally disagree with certain parts of their view of the truths on devious acts and thoughts against them and this manifesto could prove my point that women are “sensitive”. Too much influence and traces of emotions on the manifesto I would say. They could turn my last quote on their manifesto against me by adding “…and if we are aggressive in our manifesto they’d say we’re the avid follower of emotion and if we…”
It never ends. So, I’ll stop here.

You had asked: “So, should we place equal importance on rationality and emotions…or only positive/enabling emotions or both positive and destructive emotions? Any thoughts?”
This is a very difficult question to answer. My extensive university training in mechanical engineering and not in the area of philosophy makes me difficult to solve this one. I would go mad trying to figure this one out. All right, I’ll try and practice my philosophical craft with you.

I would say we should place equal importance in rationality and emotions. By emotions, it should be both the positive and what you called “destructive” emotions. Why? I would say because “destructive emotion” is not necessarily destructive or negative. It is part of human nature which must be intertwined with rationality. Destructive emotion, say for example in anger. Just an example, by being angry at the Israelis because of their atrocities, I make a rational/emotional decision of boycotting American/Israelis products and also as a whole to improve the economical/knowledge/weaponry strength in my Muslim society so that we won’t be bullied in the future. If I rely upon emotion alone, I would make the irrational decision to blow myself up in public places in my own country with the intention to hurt “tourists with Caucasian physical features” (which in turn kills my own kind instead of Caucasians and propagate more hate throughout the western & Muslim world). Another example is the emotion of jealously. We can be influenced by this emotion to make a rational decision of improving ourselves and competing fairly. Without any rationale thinking, and to just follow the emotion of jealousy, we could act irrationally by sabotaging the works of the person we’re jealous about instead. Now, that is damaging to both of us instead of using the so-called “destructive” emotion positively to our advantage.

In the interpretation of religion and one’s own decision to convert/believe in a particular religion is also stained with rational/emotional decision. Another example is that I mean, how can the Christians truly persuade me through series of factual evidence that Jesus Christ is God in human form? They don’t have any concrete factual evidence beyond doubt but often rely upon their bible which is of doubtful source/origin and susceptible to rational errors and flaws with intense scrutiny. By reading their bible I could be touched emotionally by Jesus’ self sacrifice for humans to remove humans’ sins, and also be influenced by the rationality of their moral ethics and dogma on “love”. By combination of emotion and rationale thus made me convert to Christian. This is just an example. I’m a true believer of Islam not Christians due to emotional truth, the combination of both rationality and emotion. Christian religion is more towards how one feels emotionally but their basis of trinity is way out of the boundary of rational/logic. By this, I don’t accept Christianity. Maybe my decision write on this dichotomy of Islam and Christians is because of my emotional tendencies and not a rational one? One could go crazy trying to expand this topic.

I think my arguments won’t be able to convince you but at least it’s a try. I’m an amateur. I like reading your email. It is something refreshing.

Thanks.

Regards,
Nazri

In Sickness Bed

July 28th, 2006 by nazrig

“What is he trying to write? Death?!!”

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That’s what I imagined people reading through this piece would exclaim. Bad choice of topic they’d say. Last time he was talking about work and now death? People cringe to hear this word, while some others would put their head down, eyes cast on their feet to exhibit repentance. Some may be unaffected but just say “Let’s find out what is he trying to say”. My reaction usually is that I would put my head down to respect the “tabligh” guys trying to preach me about the ways of God. In a sinister manner, I would challenge their words quietly in my mind. I’m trained that way I think. A rebel.

-

Now, what had happened to him to have this thought of death occurred in the numb mind of his, you would probably asked yourselves. Well, maybe I imagined too much of people reaction. Imagination is just part of a writer’s blood, please excuse me. I’ll tell you my story.

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I was sick for the last 3 days including today. But today, I’m feeling a lot better. I was constantly coughing and sneezing with a high fever to top it off. In my sick times, I got bored and spent my times reading, watching the television for the ever lousy Malaysian-made drama series or just try to sleep it off, trying to take the ache and throbbing away from my mind. I have to try to find a mean of escape from this torment.

-

Maybe you readers would say, “Just a petty fever and he’s making a noise out of it like a small child”. I’m not trying to get attention the way my one year old nephew would with his constant wailing, and yelling and nagging. I want to bring another topic to the mind of all of you which is death.

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In the days when you’re sick, when you’re deadly sick, the thought of death sometimes occurred to the mind. It’s normal. I fear that probably I got a disease called pneumonia. In Bahasa Malaysia it is called “Paru-paru berair” or direct translation to English “Wet lung”. That fear made me think of death. Of my death.

-

Death is something tucked away from our minds. We intentionally put it at the back of our minds knowing that this ‘death’, is the dead end to our life enjoyment. We’re busy with our lives that we forgot something which is quite near to us which is death. You’ve heard it thousands of times before even if I repeat them, these words won’t sink into your heads, and I’m assured of it. I’m going to say it to you anyway: “Death comes to you whether you’re young or old. It does not recognise your age”. These word have no bearing to me, I have to admit, in weeks ago before I was sick. I was looking forward to my career.

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Waking up each morning, brushing my teeth, taking a nice cold shower, putting on perfume, all dressed up smartly, ready for a new day and rushing to work with thousands of people trapped in massive traffic jams. Never in such moments has death occurred to me. I was too absorbed with life. I wasn’t ready to leave this life just yet. I am young just starting my career to become a rotating equipment engineer. I want to get married my with girlfriend. I want to have a family, have kids. Have lots of cash. Get a nice car, a bungalow to add to it as well. All sorts of ambition which are normal to a human being. After writing these made me think, am I a materialistic person? One who never thought of the hereafter?

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These ambitions are part of our life and we never did think death being near to us. It could happen in any moment. God doesn’t need car accidents to take away our life. It could just easily happen in your sleep! It could happen even while we’re awake. When He said ”Be”, it will just be. As easy as that. This reading could somehow make you drowsy, sorry abut that. It so happen that not many people have this realisation, like something hitting them in the head, knocking them off their sleep, a product of deep thought and reflection.

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My experience when I was sick is that I couldn’t stand the fever, hard coughing (hurting in your throat) and flu as it is a disturbing nuisance to my life. I couldn’t carry out life as I had used to. No more going to work, no more engineering work, no more driving, no nothing. The sickness has disrupted my daily routine and this usually made food for thought. You stopped doing your daily stuff and reflect back on your life. Time had stopped for you to reflect. My sickness didn’t go away after all the medicine I took. It made me worry. My girlfriend was caring all the way, attending to my phone calls and reminding me to take the pills. She had mentioned something about pneumonia and I was afraid that I might actually have this illness. She described the symptoms which almost similar to mine. And afterwards I read in the newspaper of an old 80’s Malaysian rock band (which I never heard of anyway) telling the story of the singer who died recently due to pneumonia. I also heard recently from my ex-school mates that one of their friends had died of the same illness. Now, I’m really afraid of death.

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My over-reaction might be construed by you fine readers as pure act of silliness but the chain of events had profound effect on me. I’m not ready yet. I have missed many prayers and I haven’t yet repented. I realised my life which is deceitful. I was deceiving myself. I forced myself to forget about death in a subconscious sort of way. I have forgotten that God is All-Hearing, All Seeing, and All-Knowing. Allah knows what is in my heart. I was trying to conceal and forget about what was to come.

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The subject about death is part & parcel of religion. It comes in package. You eat cornflakes in the morning surely with milk. You can’t have just cornflakes without any milk to go with it, can you? Emmm, maybe you can but it would just be like eating crackers and who would want that? The inter-relation of death and religion is simple. It’s the question of after death where do we go? Only religion provides such answers, whereas no existing scientific experiments can tell us where we would go after death. Does soul exists? Is it immortal, the soul? What qualities does the soul possess? Undiminished, undying and immortal qualities? These sorts of question philosophers usually ask. Why philosophy comes into it because science cannot provide an answer. If souls are immortal, where do these souls go after death? We fear things we don’t know. Death is such an unknown mystery that people are frightens by it.

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For myself, I have faith in my religion that I do believe that if I die, Allah won’t be pleased with me for I had sinned too much. It’s not too late to dive into the lake of truth, finding death on the bottom of it. It is real. It is as real as life itself. Just have to reflect hard without deceiving yourself. All these worldly things will be taken away from me. For your info, my sister who is a doctor assured me that I only have a virus not pneumonia, and I hope she’s right…