From A Need, Comes A Want

The Giant looked out from the window to the tree where, in a prolonged winter not so long ago,
a boy had melted his heart and awakened him from his selfish attitude.

Once, before meeting the boy, he had chased children out children and refused to allow any to play in his beautiful garden. Then winter set in his garden with a duration he had not seen before.
Till one day, when the world around him had been celebrating spring much earlier,
a corner of his garden looked cheerful with colours
and the lively chirping of birds and the buzzing of insects,
a little boy was in tears trying to climb up the tree.

Perhaps it was the colours of spring that did it. Or, the Giant's dislike for the dull and
bitter coldness of winter. Or, the cry in the boy's voice. Or perhaps, the combination of all 3
where each were in contrast to the other, nobody knows for certain.
But whichever of the 3, or in any combination one would like to think, the scene moved the Giant
and he lent a hand for the boy to climb the tree.
And no sooner after that, he realised that he has been selfish,
denying the village children their need to play, and their want to play in his garden.
And so, he broke the walls surrounding the garden along with the gates too.
And when the children saw the Giant was kindly with the small boy, they came slowly,
one by one, still uncertain of the Giant's temper.
But when the Giant does nothing towards those first few,
the children at the rear began rushing into the Giant's garden, one which they loved to play in.
Soon, the entire garden was a picture of gaiety with children's voices and antics,
and the vibrant colours of spring which followed the children into the garden.

Out of the children's need, comes the Giant's want.
- adapted from The Selfish Giant, by Oscar Wilde.

Although it can be considered just a stone throw away, today, I walked for the first time into the recently opened Giant in Kota Damansara. And had it not been for the need to buy some bread for tomorrow, perhaps I would never have. I mean, what's the big deal, a mall is just like any other mall. Having been born and bred here, what is there to see anymore? But the need, which led to a want.

Perhaps similarly, when some people came to realise that another groups of people had a need to survive in a world that viewed them harshly, came a want to provide.

Zam Zam Cola. Mecca Cola. 2 out of the many names and brands that has emerged not to compete with the traditional and established brands in each respective market, but to provide an alternative for the mass to decide and choose from, of brands which are closely linked to brutal mass murder of a people, a nation, who was found guilty to be living in an area which yet another group of people who lives in a farflung land, came to a conclusion that the land belong to another. Then came the butchery and inhumane treatment of not only Muslims there, but the Christians as well; both, belonging to the Palestinian group of people. Men, women, children, and even the old were murdered in cold blood, some while sleeping in their own bedroom. And the world just stood and watched. But not all.

It may have had its roots since the early 1970's, during a period known as the Oil Embargo. Short-lived as it was, the idea soon hatched to another: instead of denying sale of supply, could denying purchase be as or, more effective? The boycott.

From the vacuum created in denying the purchase of goods either linked or owned by individuals and corporations of the illegal entity, rose new products which are not only owned by people of the opposing idealogy, but people who found a want to provide for a need. The tough part is in making people switch brands and products which they are accustomed to. And slowly, more and more people are realising the need to switch. And from there, it may ultimately lead to a whole new economy, one that is not repressive, feeding like a leech on the very people it was meant to serve. One, that was introduced more than 1,400 years ago.

For a growing many, this need has now become a want.

* As silly as some people make out of the Boycott effort, sillier are they who tend to forget that a similar effort helped bring about the downfall of the apartheid regime in South Africa.

** Do visit Innovative Minds here for a more comprehensive listing of products and reasons why we should boycott them.

Charge of The Sarkas Brigade

Cikgu's entry here helped lent an idea to this entry.


In a fictionalised battle that could well be reminiscent to a real life situation, newly appointed General Halkap, brought his brigade of the 5th Sarkas Rangers up the slopes of Putrajaya Hill for a better defensive position. An open terrain of some 300 meters wide all around the hill would give the men ample time to spot and mercilessly shoot down any enemy approach. Such, must have been the thought of the General, who, like most self-deluded leaders in history, now command an army not only in the hope that it would bring him honour in the eyes of his followers, but also that it - the army - would not be used against him at any point later. The fact that the only thing he knows about military affairs were from the books of 19th Century wars he read, were of little consequence to him. Or, to anyone by his reckoning.

Soon as all the units have reached the top, General Halkap called for his Second-in-Command, Colonel Bijan, a man afflicted with same delusion as the General, but off course, about himself rather than his commander. In a manner of speaking, Colonel Bijan may have made a better commander as he has had some experience with the military, albeit a rather controversial and explosive one.
"Form a Square!" ordered the General.
"But Sir," objected Bijan "this is crazy! That defensive formation has been made obsolete in modern warfare!"
"Don't you ever object nor countermand my orders, Bijan! I can have you replaced as easily as I can indict you in court (martial). So, be a good officer and have the men form the Square."

No sooner had the men formed the Square, they begin to hear the humming and clanking sounds of armoured vehicles all around them. The sounds grow larger by the minute and the soldiers in the ranks and files soon begin to perspire in fear and anticipation of the enemy.
"General," cried an officer "the enemy have brought up their armour! There is no way we can ward them off with light weapons!"
"He is right, General Sir!" said Bijan. "We need a change of tactics! What are your orders?"
"I...I, don't know!" replied the General. "I was hoping to hand you the command soon after this battle, but now..."
"Let me have the men for now, Sir!" cried Bijan as the noise of the armour steadily drowns his voice. "You will still be Commander-In-Chief, but let me take the men to the enemy!"
"Very well, Bijan" replied General Halkap, "the men are yours for now. We shall talk of your command after this battle. Go! Go and bring us victory."

Just as Bijan were about to issue an order, the armoured vehicles of the enemy comes into view. The men of the 5th Sarkas Rangers faces turned white at the sight of Challenger tanks accompanied by Strykers and the ageing Bradleys. All around them were metal monsters of death and not a flesh of the enemy can be seen.
"Men of the 5th Sarkas Rangers!" cried Bijan at the top of his voice, "fix bayonets! Chaaarge!". Those were the last words of a Pekanite, immortalised in comedy sketches and books of Fools, as a reminder to Malaysians to the idiocies of 2 leaders of the past.

Another Story of Old

Over dinner just now, Emak tells me of an old story in reference to the current scenario now. It is an old story told over generations, and was told to Emak by her mother many decades ago.

Once, there were 2 individuals by the name of Haji Bebal and Abu Dajjal. These 2 grew up and lived in the same village somewhere in the mideast. As the story goes, both men are not well off to do. And as the names suggest, one was not too bright a fellow, while the other is certainly not a saint.

One day, while AD was playing in the desert, he noticed HB walking alone and decided to follow him from a distance. After a short while, AD observed HB digging a hole and later, crouching beside it. After HB had gone off, AD approached the spot where HB dug the hole and saw HB had scrawled something on the sands which read "There is no money hidden here - HB."

AD, keeping to his namesake, dug the hole and took all the money. He then covered the hole and then scrawled "I did not take the money - AD".

Since HB's note mentioned that there was no money there, and AD admitting not taking any, the case was rejected when brought to the courts.

Emak told this story in referrence to a change of portfolio by some people of late. I guess, one does not have wonder far to guess who.


ps. Got a text from Elviza:
Solidarity vigil in front of Commercial Crime at 8.30pm, 18 September 2008.

The Interstellar Traveller

Palah arrived on the man-made satellite off a planet deep in the Andromeda Galaxy approximately 6 minutes after he left Earth, slightly longer than the anticipated time of 5 minutes and 15 seconds. The wormhole technology which Malaysian scientist used for this historic journey, is considered old in the world of space travel. But the scientist had no choice but to make do with it, as their government had purchased it from the Russians in an arms-palm oil trade some years ago. The fact that the dismantling, delivery and rebuilding of the complex housing the technology cost more than had a totally new one purchased, is off course, a different story.

When the station received the signal that Palah's entire DNA sequence has been received intact, they began the process of reconstituting the physical aspect of it. Its a complex thing but many other nations have done it in the past, and Palah does not want Malaysia to be left behind. With so much energy needed to generate sufficient power for this process, the entire nation need for it was sacrificed, having to go without electricity for a whole week. Even hospitals were not spared and they had to function on candle light and even the power for the surgical theaters were drawn from hospital orderlies cycling on stationery bicycles connected to a large dynamo. The cost alone, off course, is sufficient to feed an entire country of 20 million people for a year. But, prestige comes first for the leaders of this country. And that was how Malaysia entered the space-age travel.

As the first molecules of Palah appeared in the transport cubicle, everyone's face was filled with glee. But less than a few seconds later, their facial expressions turned to deep concern as red lights began lighting and sirens was wailing non-stop. "What on Earth is happening?" asked one scientist.
"I wouldn't know," replied another "I'm not there".

Slowly as the the physical shape of a man materialise, the deep concern turned into alarming looks. Almost all the scientists mouths were wide agape; instead of the figure of a single man, there were two!

Somehow, not wanting to be left out, Najis had jumped into the cubicle at Earth, at the same time Palah's body was de-constituted. Off course, Palah had no way of knowing it for during interstellar travel, even the brain cease to exist in the form we know of it. In other words, travelers are unconscious. But that, is the least of the problem.

Once the two bodies were fully reconstituted, several scientists rushed to the cubicle shouting "Don't panic! Don't panic! We will remedy the situation!".

Shocked at hearing the words, Palah and Najis groped around in a manner quite like people without sight. Then they felt their hands being held, and led away into 2 separate rooms. There, each were stripped naked even while they were standing.

As Palah's pants and underwear were pulled down, he shouted "Hey! Why am I in a crouching position?" But he was not. And the scientist did not want to answer until the Chief Technologist walked in.

The CT then explained "Palah, it seems we have encountered a problem. Unknown to you, Najis had jumped into the wormhole as you were departing. That, created confusion within the system, and both you and Najis DNA have now been changed".
"What?" cried Palah, "That's impossible! DNA cannot change nor go stale!"
"We thought so ourselves too", replied the CT. "But apparently, the theory forwarded some 200 years ago - in 2008, to be precise - was quite true. Then everyone debunked the theory as it was forwarded by some clown who was not even a student of biology or chemistry, and not even physics. But now it has been proven true. I'm sorry".

"Why are you sorry? Why am I still in a crouching position? And why do I feel as if there's something in my mouth?" asked Palah, with a voice almost in desperation.
"Perhaps,"replied the CT "it would be better for you to have a look yourself". As he said that, 2 scientist placed a standing mirror several feet in front of his eyes.

Palah looked towards the direction of the mirror and had the shock of his life. He then turned his body around while keeping his eyes facing the mirror, then screamed out loud.

By some cruel twist in the wormhole technolgy, Palah found out, much to his horror, that his body and Najis had interchanged parts here and there. Though the changes were...minor, shall we say, it was enough to make Palah a deranged man. For, the front of his head is now Najis face minus the eyes. Palah's eyes on the other hand, were each reconstituted at his rear end. To make matter worst, the thing which Palah felt in his mouth, are the testicles belonging to Najis. It was likewise with Najis too.

DNA it seems, can be subjected to changes, and can even go stale as implied by Palah's ancestor sometime on Friday, July 18, in the year 2008.

Modern Day Valley of the Blind - Story Review.

While at the pharmacy buying emak's medicine just now, I found this leaflet of a story review. Though the title sounds very much like The Valley of the Blind by HG Wells, this story is supposedly a contemporary version.

In the original story, a one-eyed soldier stumbled upon a valley filled with blind people, i.e. people who are sightless, but not illiterate. In this modern day version, there is no soldier, but there is a valley filled with people who are not only sightless, but illiterate as well. Now, before anyone thinks differently, kindly note that the leaflet of this story is being distributed nationwide and will be published by Valley Fable Master Incorporated, and I am just an interested reader. Anyway, the parallel the 2 stories ends there as from that point onwards, the modern day version has 2 central characters, while the original had only one.

According to the Valley Fable Master, these 2 individuals with the strange names of Anw and Raj, have committed great sins to the citizens of a valley. And for that, the Puppet Doraemon Ringgit Mesia (something like the Gestapo-on-the-string, if I read it right), were directed to bring the 2 to justice. However, the sins committed by both individuals are rather contrasting; while Anw fought against a slander, Raj was accused of making one. But both are already judged guilty by the Unroyal Circus even before the Puppets could draw up the charges.

Another strange thing is that in both cases, 2 different substances with names sounding quite alike was used. While one was organic in nature, the other was synthetic. Still, both are explosives in nature. And by that, I guess the Fable Master meant something more than the kababoom sound normally associated with explosions - a Seefool and a Seefoul.

But not all the citizens of the valley are totally blind. Some, having learned from experience or taught by outsiders, are slowly learning to read (braille, I guess). With that, comes knowledge, and with knowledge, they began to see. But when they did, they had a shock that many cried "Oh no! I don't want to see! Its so terrible and ugly, I don't want to see!" But they have seen. And soon, the Puppet Doraemons will need a longer leash, oops, I mean strings, to bring more people to the Unjustice Department.

I believe if this Modern Day Valley is published, it would certainly be a best seller. The selling point here is the charges against the two individuals. Can't say for sure whether it was an over or under sight by the author, but whatever the outcome, it will certainly create an uproar. I mean, the Unjustice Department certainly cannot find both individuals guilty where one is accused, the other accusing, both against or by different parties. Unless, off course, like any twist in a story, the author comes out with something drastic. So, don't miss out on this story, ye.

It's Not Exactly Bonnie

I don't know who the baby is, nor do I know the parents. But amongst the picks available at you tube, this was the most decent and adorable. And no, this entry has nothing to do with the song, though if ever there is a bonnie, it would be nice to sing it to her. This entry is actually a short story about bones. And it has no medical reference of whatsoever.

My emak likes to tell stories of her younger days in Melaka. Sometimes it would be tales of the days whilst in Pantai Belimbing, other times it would be about Melaka Pindah. Now, I can't recall where exactly this tale took place, but its about an old man who has 2 doting sons; the younger one living with him, the other in a city.

As the tale goes, one day when the younger son was about to leave for the market, he asked the father if he needed or wanted anything. Unhesitatingly the old man said he would like to eat 'sup tulang'. Thus off went the son to the market for the day's buy, as well as some fine bones for the soup the old man wanted.

When he got back, he asked his wife to prepare the soup according to the old man's wish, with no further thoughts about it. But somehow, the old man was not thoroughly satisfied as the dish prepared was nowhere near to the recipe of his beloved wife, who passed away several years before. Thus while he was feeling sad about missing his wife, the elder son came to the house unexpectedly. Like any faithful son, the first question he would asked was whether the father has had his meal. The father, still teary eyed, replied sadly 'Adik engkau beri aku tulang je hari ni'. Enraged, the elder son confronted his younger brother who replied nonchalantly 'Dah itu yang ayah mintak!' Can't remember how the story ended, but it was quite hilarious when I heard it quite sometime back. Perhaps, the ending could have been on the same line as in an old McD TV advertisement "Where's your beef?".

Now, since we have moved on from bonnie to bones, and now beef, I don't mind telling you I'm feeling rather peckish now, even though emak and I had a meal of Otai Burger earlier; while she had a chicken, I had a double beef. Maybe after 2 days without proper meal, both our bodies are craving for some real food. Now, don't get me wrong, or confused this part with the old man earlier as emak and I are still recovering from a minor bout of food poisoning we suffered late Wednesday evening. Due to this, I was unable to assist Doc Lo'Lo' in her Parliamentary preparation. Fat good I would be there, actually, for never have I seen any parliament papers, nor have I seen any sittings. But it would have been a good experience. Talking of which...though it may not succeed, the motion to remove an old bone from the Parliament is indeed much welcome. Let's hope it goes through and with it, the removal of the entire cabinet of old bones too. With them around, life, of late, has not been exactly bonnie.

For The Good and Bad Times.

Before I start writing on the 'Muhibah' tag from Cikgu, I thought I'd put this entry first, a nice email someone sent.

ONE PARAGRAPH THAT EXPLAINS LIFE! Arthur Ashe, the legendary Wimbledon player was dying of AIDS which he got due to infected blood he received during a heart surgery in 1983. From world over, he received letters from his fans, one of which conveyed: "Why does GOD have to select you for such a bad disease"? To this Arthur Ashe replied: " The world over -- 50 million children start playing tennis, 5 million learn to play tennis, 500,000 learn professional tennis, 50,000 come to the circuit, 5000 reach the grand slam, 50 reach Wimbledon, 4 to semi final, 2 to the finals, when I was holding a cup I never asked GOD 'Why me?'. And today in pain I should not be asking GOD 'Why me?' " Happiness keeps you Sweet, Trials keep you Strong, Sorrow keeps you Human, Failure keeps you humble and Success keeps you glowing, but only Faith & Attitude Keeps you going...

Reading through this, it reminds of a prophet. But before that, kindly forgive me as I have half forgotten the story and perhaps, even the prophet in the story. If I am right though, it is the Prophet Ayub alaihisalam.

The Prophet Ayub a.s. was blessed by Allah s.w.t. with wealth, health, several good sons and a devoted wife. He was well known throughout the land not just a wealthy man, but also as a humble and devoted servant of Allah s.w.t. But Allah has decreed it as such, Prophet Ayub a.s. was put to severe test.

First his wealth was taken away from him leaving him as a poor man. Later all his sons died. Yet, the Prophet Ayub showed tremendous patience throughout his ordeal. But soon after, a greater test was put to him where his health deteriorated so badly, even his wife was beginning to have doubts. In fact she even asked the Prophet Ayub a.s. to ask Allah s.w.t. for mercy and an end to the trial.
In replying to his wife the Prohet Ayub a.s. asked her "How long did we have the good times of wealth, family and good health?"
The wife replied "70 years."
Prophet Ayub a.s. asked again "How long have we gone through these bad times?"
The wife replied "7 years."
Then the Prophet Ayub said "70 years of good times and only 7 years of bad times, I am ashamed to ask Allah s.w.t."

If ever there is an error in the story, it is on my part and I hope it will be corrected. Thank you.

ps. In searching for reference to the above, I came across this interesting site which has animations on the story of the prophets in Islam; do give it a look at alqaem. A word of caution though, there are lots of bogus Islamic sites on the net. If you do find any, do NOT spread the word about the site, rather just inform several trusted people.

The simple reason for this is because many of these site depends heavily on fundings from certain anti-Islam organisation. Thus these sites would need to show a strong hit - the more the hits they get, the more fundings they receive. And people being people, the more we tell them not to go to such sites, the more they will out of curiousity.

ps ps. Apologies. The picture of Arthur Ashe just would not come out right.

2nd Penang Bridge: The Real Story Behind It!

As per my normal routine 6 nights a week, I surf the net for news which may be beneficial to Malaysians. Tonight, was no exception. And one news item that caught my attention most was the Penang Global City Project which will cost a whooping RM25 billion! It is a mega city project which the government has now asked the developers to scale down, but only after the public made complaints. And what, you may ask, would the complaint be about?

Well, if you are not a Penangite, it would be understandable if you do not understand. And its not that I do myself since I too am not one. But then logic would simply point out towards the traffic congestion which sadly, the Pearl of The Orient is now more famous for. If you want to know more about this, there is none better to ask but Cikgu Nazir. However, since you are still reading this, it just simply mean I have to continue on rambling. Where were we...? Oh, the traffic problem!

Right. As logic would simply point out, the more residential or office complexes one build without improving the traffic system which would include the widening of new roads or building new ones, the roads would be crammed with vehicles that even a snail may go sailing by. That is, off course, an exaggeration. What I'm trying to say is, why does the government need to have the public make a complaint before deciding on such matters? I mean, they have town planners, state planners, national planners, but sadly it seems, all without any plans.

To be fair, I think those civil servants are doing a good job. Its just that...well, you have those politicians in powers who are not! And that is a fact I think many Malaysians can agree to. And I'm quite sure if you were to ask the civil servants on the matter, they will reply with a resounding aye.

The last time I drove to Penang Island, crossing over the narrow straits on what used to be the 3rd longest bridge in the world, I had a mixed feeling about it. The first, was my patriotic pride feeling awe about the bridge that may one day equal the fame of The Golden Gate in San Francisco. The other feeling was that of...claustrophobia and acrophobia; being crammed in a car that was not so literally inching its way across the bridge. The acrophobia? Well, the bridge is rather high for the liking of someone who is afraid of heights.

Anyway, when the news came that the 2nd bridge is in the offing, I was one non-Penangite who was very happy about it. Seriously! And I was pinning for a bridge with lower heights and perhaps this time, built by Malaysians, and for Malaysians, much unlike the first bridge. But then woe me when I was told by a certain someone about the real story behind the 2nd bridge. And like it or not, since you are already reading this, my best bet is that your curious mind will force you to read on.


It was sometime after Isyak, some 10 years ago. I had attended a small kenduri Du'a Selamat in Taman Tun Dr Ismail when I was introduced to a gentleman of quite reasonable stature. As per normal in many Du'a Selamat I have been to, the guests were offered a light refreshment while the host lay the dinner. And it was during that time I was fortunate to be within the earshot of a conversation between the gentleman I mentioned was having with some other guests. And to save you time you may already wasted reading this entry, we shall dispense of all non-necessary part of the conversation, and I will quote the gentleman verbatim. You must understand though, the gentleman being who he was, the conversation was more like a monologue.

"Aaah, the Penang Bridge! It is true, what you've read...the Malaysian government will be building the 2nd bridge soon. But it is not as what you may think, I fear. For I was one of the people involved at the highest stage of planning. Mind you, it was not that I am or was an important figure on such matters, merely being a stand in for some people whom I dare not mention here.

I believe most of you might have been made aware of the announcement by the government on the cost of the 2nd bridge. Well, baloney! Do not for a second believe them! The 2nd bridge is being built free of charge, courtesy of a mistake made by the contractors of the first bridge. Shocked, are you? Well, don't be as I do have a secret to share with you.

Back when the first bridge was in the initial planning stage, foreign contractors and designers were invited to submit their proposals in a very hush-hush open tender. The Works Minister then who still is now, asked the bigots - that's us on the 2nd echelon of decision making and planning - to pick 5 of the best offer in terms of design and off course, the cost. And so we narrowed it to contractors with designers from South Korea, Japan, the US, Germany, and India. Each of these contractors were chosen to hand in their final proposal based on their unique capabilities and standings. And these are:

South Korea - for the Engineering expertise they have in construction.

Japan - for the innovations they have produced in almost all the fields they stick their nose into.

the US - for the grandeur planning they always come up with.

Germany - considered the masters of technology breakthrough and designs.

India - now, this is a rising star in the world of construction and engineering. Almost a dark horse in the race, but for their connections to...you know who.

And so it was on the day of presentation, each company were given no more than 30 minutes to present. Since I was lucky enough to be one of the few bigots present during the day, I was privy to the information I am passing to you now.

All the companies were alloted time in accordance to the order I mentioned earlier, and each presented their case to their best of efforts. Why, if you were there, you might have shed a tear yourself, looking at the almost desperate presentation they each gave, which is almost akin to some final year physics students who really have not a single clue at what they were doing.

Anyway, when the day was nearly halfway through, the company from India came into the room. Though I was informed, I was nevertheless quite surprised as instead of a single company, there were 2 from India; both companies were related by blood it seems - one the father, the other the son. And in they came and presented to the Works Minister.

The Minister, when India presented the plan, gave a shocked look initially. But somehow, the Indians pulled out their Ace that sent the Minister into a...shall we say, euphoric reaction? And almost as suddenly, he came back to his normal state of mind, grabbed both the Indians and began walking out of the room while at the same time asking us bigots to follow. We had no idea where he was going, but follow him we did.

When we finally reached to Minister's destination, he asked us to open the huge door, revealing a large room, a very large room in fact, where we found the Prime Minister then was waiting rather patiently for us. He was, after all, enjoying himself to a bowl of freshly fried masalode, or something of such equivalent; not being a connoisseur of food, I failed to observe entirely.

The Minister showed the Indians to a small conference table and then called on the PM to join. Upon joining, the Ministers then asked to Indians to give a brief presentation to the PM.

'Your excellency' said the senior of the Indian, 'we are 2 companies here, one father, one son. If we get this project, we will begin works simultaneously from both ends of the bridge - my son will begin works on the island and I from the mainland.' At this stage, the PM was already rubbing his chin.

'Our companies are well known for revolutionary construction works, and while we may have not built a single bridge before, we are confident we will halved the construction time," said the father. Without waiting for reply, he continued "You see, if we both work from both ends, we will then meet in the middle and complete the project in record time," with almost a look of glee on his face.

But the PM being a person well endowed with many knowledge including some about physics, pulled the Minister one side and asked "Sam, I really don't know about this. What if, just what if they begin building and something go wrong?"

The Minister, being a man not short of words, replied almost immediately "But what could go wrong my friend? You asked me to pick the best, and I think these Indians here are the best!"

"Well," the PM then said "what if the two ends don't meet?"

The Indians who were creeping to hear the PM and the Minister's discussion quickly interrupted "Your excellency, do not worry. My son hold a Masters in Physics and I in Engineering! We THINK, we will join both ends together in the middle of the straits."

"And what if you don't...?"the PM shot back.

"Well...," the senior Indian tried to reply while looking at his son.
"We will!" shouted the son. "If we do not, then you will have 2 bridges for the price of one!"

"As you know gentleman, the first bridge did have a serious construction flaw, one which was foreseen by the PM, but was well hidden from the public. And that is precisely how we got the building of the 2nd bridge going! Oh! I must be going now," said the gentleman.


As the gentleman got up from his chair, he gave a look around before walking off to his car. The other guests who were listening intently, each had a strange look on their face. It was as though they were in a state of shock. And I could swear, even as the gentleman walked off, I heard something like a snicker from him...almost humorous yet evil in nature.

Another Story

When I read Cikgu's entry about Raden Galoh, I immediately visited her blog and found many other already have and giving their comments wishing her well and so forth. As a first timer there, I was lost for words. But then I remembered a real life story I read - apologies if I bore anyone with the so many stories I read at a real young age. The story was published in a Readers Digest issue before the time almarhum Tunku's Abdul Rahman's Dwi Bahasa was published in the same said magazine; RD was, at that point of time, still a US issue worldwide. As such, the stories and articles there were mainly of US origin, as this story was.

A well known man(Henry) in a small town had passed away and the whole community was saddened by the news and came to visit the widow and pay their respects. The deceased, though not a wealthy man, was well liked and respected by the community and was helpful especially towards the small non-white residents there. And perhaps customary during such visit, visitors would offer their condolences to the family. Except - in this story - for one man.

He was a non-white, one of those whom the deceased hardly knew but not vice versa. This non-white - we shall name him Jim, as I have forgotten the names in the actual story - makes his living as a cobbler of which Henry had very little need of service for he shines his own.

On the day of the service, Jim arrived to a house that is almost full and saw the widow already has her hands full receiving wishes and condolences. Still, Jim approached the widow. But instead of offering his condolence, he asked for the shoe closet and later took all the shoes outside where he began polishing each, including those of the widow's. By the time the hearse arrive and the family and friends began to make their way for the burial ceremony, every single shoe had been polished and looked brand new. The widow was caught by surprise and thanked Jim for his simple act of kindness but meant a whole lot to her. The widow then changed shoes into a pair that was shined and wore it to the burial ceremony in respect of the man she had loved.


I guess each and everyone of us would like to do something similar to what Jim did. It is at times similar to the story that we, as friends, or be it even as strangers, do feel so helpless and not know what to do. But alhamdulillah, as Muslims, we are taught to give prayers for those in distraught or those that have passed away. Only Allah knows best.

Just An Old Fashion Love Story

OK, foremost a confession: As Cikgu had noticed it, I had put up a posting last night about a story I MAY enter into a competition, but decided to take it down to give it more work. Further, the only part I have written was the ending and the entire story was without a title yet...then.

All entries for this competition is to be based on the development of Kuala Lumpur for the past 20 years, and though I have a sketch in my mind, I have yet to work out the on exact matter. I mean, it was only after maghrib last night I decided to begin on it. Then somehow this morning, I woke up with a song in my head which somehow tie in to the sketch I have. Hmm...maybe that's what all the senimans call 'ilham', huh? If so, then I may have found 2 already! Oops! Sigh...then again, I am not a seni-man.

Anyway, I was reminded about this song when I replied to a comment from Cikgu and have put it here for everyone's listening pleasure. An original presentation it may not be, but it is nonetheless, still as good. But mind you, for those who may not know the song already, there's 2 songs in the video and we are only concerned with the first.


ps. By the way, there's some new Oldies, Jazz and Rock songs up at Listenonly, do have a listen. Er...look, I mean do have a look :)

Give Till It Hurts.

While emak and I were having lunch today, I noticed TV3 1.30pm Buletin was airing the 'Tokoh Ma'al Hijrah' for 2008. Apparently, Tan Sri Syed Mukhtar Bukhary was named as the recipient of the award for this year. My heartiest congratulations to the man as I've heard from quite a number of people that Tan Sri is a philanthropist and deserving of the award. I have no qualms there at all. However, it reminded me of a story I read as a young boy of 10, and if I remember it well, is with regards to a remote village somewhere in either China or Taiwan. Though names of the characters and even places are completely forgotten now, the gist is not.

In a place where modern medical science was still viewed suspiciously and even thought to be a spawn of witchcraft, many children and elderlies succumbed to various ailments and many die to lack of medical treatment. The Village Elders, held a meeting and realise the need to build a hospital catering to the village need. But realising on the matter and the want to build can be 2 different things altogether as the huge majority of the people there are poor and live on day to day sustenance. Though there were several well-off families, and a particularly rich man, this was a community project and needs the contribution of everyone, be it large or small. Thus, the Village Elders later announced of their intention to collect funds from everyone for the purpose of this hospital. This, was received well by the people of the village.

As the VE went around each house, the contributions they received began to grow. Many gave without thought, while few were calculative either to the use of the fund or the benefit it would bring. Still, they gave. Despite collecting a large amount, the VE found it still insufficient and continued on collecting until only 2 houses remain.

They went to the first of the last 2 house which belongs to the richest man in the village and were greeted kindly. When asked by the rich man on the amount collected, the VE said it was still insufficient and needed at least double of what they already have. The VE reply had the rich man thinking a long while and then asking "What or after who will this hospital be named?"
The VE were stunned by the question which in the very first place, had never crossed their minds. Then the eldest of the VE replied "We will name the hospital after the best donor," to which the rich man gave the amount needed without further thoughts. Jubilated by the generous act of the rich man, the VE made their way back to the Town Hall. But on their way there, they pass by the only house which they have yet to collect donation from.

Looking at the condition of the house, the VE initially thought of not asking any. But then as it is a community project, they decided it should involve the occupants as well. The head of the poor family greeted the VE with a thin smile. As soon as he was told by the VE of their intention, he immediately the rickety wooden steps up to his house and disappeared behind the thin walls made of flimsy plywood. The poor man reappeared a short while later and without further question gave them an old leather bag containing his life savings. Without a word, he then turn back to his task of chopping firewood meant to be sold later.

Back at the Town Hall, the VE began recounting their collection and were very happy to note that it in fact, had exceeded the amount needed. Then they were reminded of the donation by the poor man in the leather bag and opened it only to find the amount contained within was a mere fraction when compared to the rich man. Yet, this was the poor man's life saving and he gave from his heart. The VE felt humbled and decided to include it to the collection.

The building of the hospital did not take long as it was small 2storey building suffice for the village need. And when it was completed, the whole town gathered for the official opening ceremony. The rich man, befitting as the main contributor, was invited as the Guest-of-Honour, and was seated on the dais together with the VE. When the time came to unveil the name of the hospital, the rich man was given the honour. And he stood proudly beside the unveiled name as the villagers, including the poor man, gathered around. And when the shoving and the noise died down, the rich man pulled the small curtain to unveil...the poor man's name.

The Village Elders, it seems, had not lied about naming the hospital after the best donor. For in their eyes, the poor man had given his best - his entire life savings - towards the success of building a hospital for the village. His unselfish act had humbled the VE, and in their eyes, he was the best donor.

Now, before anyone even think that this story have anything to do with Tan Sri Syed Mukhtar, know that it does not. As mentioned earlier, I was reminded of this story when I saw the news and thought of sharing it. Perhaps I should have written about Saidina Ali r.a. and the mango fruit. But it is a story I believe most Muslims are well aware of. Both stories anyhow, are with regards to the unselfish deeds of individuals towards their society, no matter how small one may think of them otherwise. And perhaps that very act of looking down on a contribution by others is one of the flaws of our society today; both the poor and the rich have their roles to play.