My Little Sideshow

Ah, It's here again. Once in only four years, but it takes a toll of us once it is done. The whole country talks about nothing else but football. My preparation for the world cup got a jolt on the opening day when while having dinner with my wife and daughter, my son calls and tells me the old faithful, my 12 year Sony Trinitron has called it quits. And at 7 pm on the opening day!! Dash home we did. Frantically I tried everything I could to revive the old bugger, but to no avail. Then we mobilised the house. The daughter opens the car door, my son and I carry the mortally wounded down stairs. Straight to the repair shop. But alas, the shop is closed. Damn!
What to do? Son comes with a killer idea as usual. ' Dad buy a new TV lah'. Family conference ensues in the car. Ok , so we head to the row of shops in Taipan selling TV's. A quick survey and a new 29" flat screen is looking good but still not as good as my Sony. ' Why like this? I ask. 'Made in Malaysia mah !', the salesman says. Soooo? Anyways time was running out but wait, another hitch. ' Today cannot deliver mahh, late already mah!'. I felt like throttling him. But he was good enough to lend us a small TV just for the night since he had already swiped my card.
Next day the new TV arrives but the pics aren't good at all. So we call the salesman and he comes and fiddles with the controls. Doesn't get any better. ' I think this one got problem, mah'.
So off we go to the Store and pay another RM 200 for another brand. In it comes and out goes the other.
Time for the match to start. The family is gathered around the new TV. My wife, this time around, decides to watch the World Cup with the three of us. Family bonding. So she nestles herself next to the girl with her favourite drink. Kick off! The picture is better this time. Then it happens again. 'Daddy, what is the strange colour at the corner of the screen?'. ' Oh, Lord, it has happened again!. A strange looking hue appears at the right side of the screen. Mood spoilt.
Wife says that we need to sort it out. This means calling the salesman again and going through the whole rigmarole. Ok, we will do it tomorrow, I say.
So we follow the game. Boring match, only Robben seems to be playing.
Wife sees a glimpse of Franz Beckenbauer. ' Who's the guy?she asks. I say, Franz Beckenbauer.
'Oh, the French President!' she says.
Boy, am I going to enjoy this World Cup.

Kampong Days

I proudly declare that I am still a Kampong boy. In fact, I love talking about my Kampong days so much that it sometimes upsets my children. There was so much fun living in the boondocks with nary a care in the world. I spent about 20 years in Kampong Pandan. I was born and finished my Form Five there although we moved house twice. The house that I was born in faced what is now the Cochrane Road School. It was a jungle then with some Malays living there in small huts. We used to play hide and seek there. Neighbours were a motley group of Chinese , Eurasians, Malays, Indians and Punjabis. What a time we had running into each others house from the front through the back. No fences seperated our houses, a hedge or two but no fences. Festivals were big affairs with all neighbours streaming in the whole day with our mums' dishing out tasty hot food and cakes. Malay friends walked in, ate and drank with us. Never heard of 'halal' or 'haram' then. In fact, my Malay neighbour even had two dogs called 'Blackie and Whitie'. Good banter would follow every visit and we made sure that we would return each visit. Life was good then.
How things have changed. What has become of us now? I live in USJ, Subang Jaya. It is a crowded neighbourhood. And all neighbours have been walled in. Luckily, I still get to greet my Malay neighbours with a 'Hello' of 'Hi'. But that is about it. No further communication. Their kids do not know mine. They lead a life of their own. We fear to invite them to our house for any function and be told that they cannot because we do not serve halal food. It hurts us when we are told such. It is made worse when Ulamas declare that public Rumah Buka's should be banned because it may intrude on Islam. God help us! Who are these idiots who tell us what to do or not do?
My sister studied in a Convent School in Peel Road and many of her classmates who were Malays recited the 'Hail Mary' and the 'Our Father' daily in the morning. Some even attended Mass and took Scripture for Form 5 and passed with flying colours. Ask Dr. Mahathir's wife. They have all done well for themselves and are good Muslims still. None have gone wrong. If anything, they understand and respect other religions better. But we have become too polarised. Just look at the government departments, the multinationals. The former is full of Malays and the latter, Chinese. Going for lunch is going with your own kind. Look at the new breed of kindergartens that cater for a particular religion. The children covered from head to foot must be imbibed with religion at a young age otherwise they will not get God's salvation, they say. Sorry, but what they are going to become are narrow minded, ultra radicals who will take to the streets and burn down buildings all for the sake of religion.
At least I had experienced the days when all races could mix freely without any fear of being penalised for every small thing. I feel a tinge of sadness for the new generation of Malaysians who have not.

An unforgetable personality

He really is quite an unusual man. Calm, unassuming and in his sixties, he is the epitome of confidence, but rarely misses an opportunity to infuse a little humour in his conversation while he checks out his patients. Straight forward and honest, he is the most relaxed doctor I have ever met. That's Doctor T. Vergehese for you. He runs a small practice which he says is sufficient for him to keep going. He is being modest having had rubbed shoulders with no less than the Tengku, President Zakir Hussein, Nehru, Queen Elizabeth, Lee Kuan Yew and African leaders while being the President of the All Malaysian Student Association of India.
The first time I met him was when he came into my office to ask me details of a mutual friend who had recently passed away. I was taken up by his effort to write about this person who had done so much for the Indian community but had not received any credit from the media. He wanted to put this right and wrote an article on the many contributions of the deceased. It was published, I think, but not in a big way.
Through a twist of events, he was appointed as my company's doctor and I began to see him for medical treatment. It has been 10 years now and we have become more than just a patient-doctor relationship, we have become good friends.
What really drew me to him was his genuine interest in treating his patients without looking at costs. One day I saw a number of poorly dressed kids in his clinic and asked the nurse what was going on and she said that he was giving free treatment for these children from a special Home. Then more information became evident, he was also building churches and housing the poor in India, he has trained a large number of Indians to be doctors and nurses also in India. This is his way, he says, of repaying the debt he owed to the Indian Government for providing him with a scholarship for his medical degree in India. He also contributes to the welfare of poor Indians here.
I feel absolutely at home with him. But I have this inbuilt fear for pain, sickness and death. My mind goes ballistic when I have a pain anywhere in my body. I break into cold sweat and my mind goes numb with fear .
Once I had this pain in an akward place and thought the worst. He smiled at me and asked, " What are you afraid off? Death? Is anyone exempt from it?
Funny, but when suddenly confronted with reality, it did not matter so much.

What the heck?

I am still reeling from the shock!! We are a Chinese country where Indians and Malays speak Cantonese!. At least the Police do. This is how we are perceived by a famous Indian producer who shot parts of a film 'JURM' in Malaysia. And it starred no less than Bobby Deol and Larra Dutta. As a Malaysian I could not help but feel insulted by the film.
It stared off well with the hero, Bobby Deol, being framed by his best friend and wife for his money. He is jailed for having murdered his wife and escapes with the help of his best friend. But he is shot three times by this friend as he escapes. Unknowing to him, Deol, is saved by another girlfriend who harbours a secret love for him.
And so his best friend and wife escape to Malaysia to spend their fortune. Here is where the fun starts. The couple buy over the Palace of the Golden Horses,no less, and are partying daily. Deol finds out about this and comes to Malaysia to seek revenge. The strange thing is that we do not see any Malaysians or other people at the KLIA. It is deserted. Then he hatches his plan with the help of his girlfriend and another Indian who is a taxi driver. He traps an accomplice of his friend and drowns him in a bathtub. Again this is with the help of his girlfriend who seems every willing to help him commit murder. The plot gets thicker and he manages to convince his wife that his best friend is now out to bump her off. The ending is staged at the Bukit Jalil stadium. We are not spared the dramatic Indian fights, ala Matrix. Deol shoots his friend three times in the chest, point blank. Dead as a door nail.
Ah, the best part is yet to come. The Malaysian Police arrive and they speak ' chee chong fun' cantonese. My God!! Then it happens again at the jail as his wife gets locked up, when a Malay policeman utters ' fai ti, fai ti' (quick, quick).
The 'piece de' resistance'. Bobby Deol and his girlfriend go back home to India, scot free, without having to answer to killing off two people in Malaysia. What a wonderful country this is.
Malaysia Semua Boleh!

Lame Ducks

The excuses are coming in fast and furious. Innocent people have died because of some peoples' callousness. It's not like it hasn't happened before, and it is more likely to happen again. Because even the loss of innocent lives is not taken seriously. We thought that the Highland Towers that made international headlines would have knocked some sense into the authorities but it is like knocking on a wall. We are so set so deep in the quagmire of corruption that lives do not matter anymore.
The latest landslide in Ulu Klang has not dettered the authorities. First came the Menteri Besar with his statements that he 'would investigate the matter and penalise the culprits'. Lucky he did not utter his infamous statement ' semua-nya ok' and move on. He is now more glib and has learnt how to manage his press statements. Then the Majlis Ampang Council say that they have been monitoring the development and had ' advised the developers to build a retention wall'. But the people around the area say that they have been complaining to the Council for three years now. It had apparently fallen on deaf years. They have the blood of innocent people on their dirty hands.
So where do we move from here? Suffice to say it is going to happen again once the media turns to other issues and the matter dies down. This is precisely my point. The media. They should take a more forceful stance and pursue the matter till someone pays for it.
If it doesn't hurt, it's not going to work. Do we have any takers?