Sick

The Duchess was a movie depicting very aptly the times and attributes of an era not yet forgotten. Sadly to say the portrayal of the influence of power and money is one not so foreign in today’s world. How often do we hear or read about people caught in unfortunate circumstances simply because they’re crushed under the heel of someone of greater import.

I spent a lot of my younger more dreamier days reading periodical romances. How lost I would get once absorbed into the glittering world of tinkling jewels and balls and beautiful satin silk dresses with long lace trains trailing the ground. Of dashing gentlemen and coquettish young girls eager to impress. Even then I realized that beyond the sparkling world of wealth and power lurked darkness that would make any decent human being sick to the stomachs. Nestled within the crusty pages of history are lesser told stories of the strife that blighted certain groups and communities. Of the degradation of women into being mere objects instead of the human beings they are. Of children traded around and young girls being put on the market like pieces of meat.

Little has changed despite all the revolution and technological advances we’ve made. We still read of domestic abuse everyday. It makes me sick to think of the many young children out there being deprived of a better life. Food, clothes, education. It is sad that some children learn how to avoid the backhand of drunkard fathers before they learn that hugs do exist. And when they grow up and develop a convoluted perception of how people should be treated, when their sense of right and wrong is all screwed up, when the world is harsh on their wrong ways and misunderstanding, who can we really blame but ourselves?

The number of young girls being exploited everyday continues to escalate and there is naught one can do to make things better. It’s an ill-suppressed rage I feel for these people. A frustration that bubbles beneath the surface when I see young girls being shoved around by bullies bigger, meaner, shallower than them. Stories of husbands beating up wives, fathers raping daughters, uncles and relatives taking advantage of the weak and helpless never get as much coverage as the latest political scandal or the latest fashion launch. These are the real life stories that nobody is brave enough to face up to. An ongoing war that nobody bothers to pick up the weapons for. True tales of desperation and need and yet we have people who make a big deal out of appearing at a function in the wrong ball gown.

When the protector becomes the perpetrator what can a helpless bystander do?

I will be right back

I promise

Right now, I'm nose deep in way too much stuff and anything I blog about is going to come out sounding inane and after reading it all of you are going to boycott me for wasting your time.....

So, I promise very soon to come out with something more thought provoking, heart warming and much more.....human.

*fingers crossed

Do remember to check back and find out if I keep to my promises......

Toodles

Bedtime stories

"Tell me another story,...please...please please please...." I plead as I tug on her sleeve just as she's falling asleep.

Fast forwarding a little more than a decade, little has changed. Ever the night owl, I'm still restless at night, whilst she's still as exhausted as ever after a day of chasing after us. I remember how she used to improvise on moral stories and tell me about friendship, sharing, experiences, her childhood, and occasionally twirl her influences into fantastic storylines just to throw me off track on my latest obsession.

When I was young, I loved lollipops (Which child doesn't??). I loved the way the multi coloured swirls formed intricate designs that mesmerized. I loved the packaging, ribbons, clear paper, colourful sticks and shapes, the thrill from holding a heavy, large, sugary concoction complete with its insurance of cavity inducement. And so she told me a bedtime story of how a little girl begged her mummy to get her the largest lollipop in the world. Thrilled to bits for the little girl, I hung on to every word, hoping that this was a hint that I too, would get the 'largest lollipop in the world' soon. But then much to my dismay, the story took a sorry twist when the little girl had to eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner for ONE WHOLE WEEK, because it was bad to waste food you see. Suffice to say, it's been 15 years since the last time I ever asked for a lollipop.

In all fairness, I think it's my turn to tell you a story today. I honestly can't remember what it was like the first time I opened my eyes to see the world around me, and so I shall share the very first time I actually saw. Hardly the angel growing up, I would lead Josh in rebellious strikes against the parents, allowing him to do the very things they forbade us both from doing, swimming in deep ends of the swimming pool for instance. And being utterly stubborn I would refuse to study and sit at the table sulking whilst she tried to teach me the names of colours and fruits.

Needless to say I did get my fair share of punishments. And so one night after being taught a 'lesson', I crawled into bed with all the resentment in my heart. I heard her creep into the room a little while later and feeling resentful, I ignored her and pretended to sleep. She probably forgot this, but as she drew the covers over me, I heard one whispered word in the darkness. Sorry. It was then that I saw the hurt she felt for punishing me was far more than the hurt I felt.

We always hear how much mothers sacrifice for their children and so I shall veer off the course of conventionality and share about the things my mother never sacrificed. My mother never sacrificed on :

• Spending quality time with us. She would get all kinds of arts and crafts books, tonnes of colour pencils and spend long lazy afternoons drawing and painting with us. I particularly remember her doing 'girly' stuff with me. Baking dough beads in the oven that we would later string into delicate necklaces.
• Her youth. How she takes a genuine interest in the things that we watched, ate or drink at various stages in our life. How she works to blend in with us and victor over the dreaded 'generation gap'.I sometimes wonder who's really older.
• Laughter. No one fills the house with more laughter than her. Sometimes she cracks us up without being intentionally funny which makes it ten times funnier.
• Food ! Oh, my mother is the most adventurous person when it comes to food. She would come home and go "I just read about this place in *inserts destination that miles away* ...let's go ! " Or barge into my room in the wee hours of the morning and trill " Wake up sleepyhead! I'm hungry let's make your dad go look for dim sum." Thanks to her, I have eaten things that most of you would cringe and turn an ashen grey at. Read : pig brains, fish eyes, 'suck' snails.
• Urging us on our dreams. Oh, how empowered we feel when mummy says "You can do it".
• Being cool. She blogs. She knows the latest on-dits in the celebrity world. She talks about all sorts of cool applications at the dinner table that I feebly nod my head at and pretend to know only to crawl, head bowed to consult my friend Google later. My mother has Twitter. Need I say more?

So, here's to 21 years of you being my strongest supporter and co conspirator in so many crimes! I dare not envision what the coming years are going to bring but looking forward to it nonetheless. Happy Mother's Day !!

P.s : You thought we forgot? Didn't you? Lunch today, is on the house.

A disgrace to Mankind

Cruelty, like every other vice, requires no motives outside of itself, it only requires opportunity - George Elliot

Amidst all the hype buzzing around the circus that is the political circuit in Perak, it was this article in The Star that left me speechless and seething with rage. The following excerpt puts into a nutshell the gist of the story.

A month ago, Pulau Ketam residents trapped about 400 dogs and transported them to Pulau Tengah to ease the stray dog population on their island.

The dogs, which lived below the stilt houses, would come up to the wooden platform during high tide.

Pulau Ketam village head Cha Keng Lee said most residents felt that the move to send the animals to the nearby island would resolve the stray dog problem.

The uninhabited island would also offer more space to the dogs, he said.

“Our aim was not to be cruel to the dogs. But we strongly feel that the stray dog problem must be solved. When the dogs come up to the platform, they defecate all over. Sometimes, they would also bite the children,” he said.

Click here for the full story

It is absolutely disgusting what humans are sometimes capable of doing. Couple that with the pathetic excuses they dole out to cover their guilt and you get a contemptible breed. It hurts to know that my fellow men, despite having IQs and brains much more advanced to that of animals could behave in manners far worse than an animal.

Whilst one can understand their predicament with the dogs, it is impossible to agree with their reasoning for doing what they did. As much as the dogs pose a nuisance and threat to the afflicted community, trapping the dogs, and then casting them off to die a long, painful slow death on a deserted island with no food and water is certainly NOT human.

There are many ways out of their apparent dilemma, but they chose the easy way out. The coward’s route. There are associations and agencies and societies more than willing to aid in situations such as these. The actions of these residents work to prove exactly how irresponsible they are. If you have no love for dogs, then fine. Ever spared a thought for the environment then? What will happen to these dogs when left abandoned? They would surely die, and what would happen then to their corpses? Flushed away to the sea? Left to form petroleum thousands of years from now? Or *gasp* maybe feeling left out these green-friendly residents wish to be credited for creating a new strain of Influenza C : Canine Flu?

To quote the village head , “Our aim was not to be cruel to the dogs”, Oh really? Gee, does this mean there really are such things as fairy dogmothers who will descend from the starry heavens and organize lavish banquets for the poor unloved canines? Or maybe what you’re trying to say is there’re pixies, fairies and gnomes dancing around at tea parties having a ball of a time in deserted islands where humans are nowhere to be seen? Well then, maybe your intentions weren’t all that cruel to begin with.

We're lauded to be a civilized breed, but yet in the shadow of every step of achievement made by men, we degrade ourselves by moving two steps back. The latest update I read reported that the dogs have now turned to cannibalism after facing weeks of starvation, depicting a scene very much like that in William Golding's Lord of the Flies. I would so love to see how those people will fare if deserted on an isolated island with nary a drop of water, let alone food.

Feminist

I walk the streets by day,
Infuse subconscious minds by night,
On trains, trams, a busy highway,
Exert my best to prove my might

I'll open my own doors I say,
God gave me arms too you know,
My share of the bill I insist to pay
Times have changed it's good to know

Such a petty word they call my name,
So innocuous my laugh is harsh,
It's men I seek to tame,
His dominion I just might squash

Murderer of chivalry and gallantry,
Me of all they accuse,
At my feet lay not blame, do not even try
You are your own sorry excuse

To the old and young I preach,
Let not their rights be breached,
Them I long to teach,
Sadly only the young and mouldable I've reached

Sexual harassment,
I invented the word,
To salve my girls' predicament,
That their voices shall slay like the sword

I stand not the bigot and misogynist,
Ever will I be the optimist,
My girls I train never be the pessimist,
I am many things but they call me feminist.

Out with the old, in with the new

The last bit of colour has been touched up, the veils lifted, the props removed and the space positively sparkles. No longer is three a crowd as we leave history and the past behind and welcome back the traditional twin columns.

Many thanks goes to the photographer/designer extraordinaire, the mother for harassing the photographer/designer extraordinaire and of course the star of the day, Teddy Theodore for sacrificing a good part of his day-dreaming time to model for the lovely header.

So pop the champagne, pass around the hors d'oeuvre, take a spin around, gush, sigh, or if you must, cringe. Welcome a new look and brace yourself for more posts on a more regular basis from now on...hopefully .This slice of the web has received a much needed facelift, so kick back your shoes, lie back, relax and take it all in because today we're celebrating !

Love Letter

My darling,

I remember the first time I was introduced to you, I learnt that 1 apple plus 2 apples equals 3 apples. 17 years have passed since that day and it's been 17 years since we've walked hand in hand. As the years passed and as my maturity ripened, you introduced me to more of your friends, in hopes that we would form a closer more intimate relationship.

As much as you matter in my life, I sometimes wonder how deep is my love for you. I would say it borders on superficial, for as much as you make me think things I would otherwise never have dreamt of, you also annoy and irritate me to no end. I really have a problem with your friends you see. Right now, I don't really care what Newton or Raphson have to say about iterative methods, neither do I light up when Leibnitz shows me his magic approach to differentiating integrals. As much as Cauchy has to share about simplyfying complex solutions, having him double team with Reimann doesn't exactly make my day nor does it lighten my workload. The men have TOO much to share really.

As interesting as maximizing capacity sounds, my head spins when Lagrange chooses to share his Multiplying methods. You see, the only thing I would love to multiply right now is time and of course, my bank account. Although the Power method is phenomenal, I think you should talk to my lovely friend the computer instead because he has a more powerful brain as compared to the likes of me.

I'm really just a shallow, vapid girl parading in the glamourous robes of a scholar. I care naught for important vector theories since the only curl I'm familiar with is to curl up with a good book and a cup of tea and the only gradient that piques my interest is the slope of my high heels. Stoke's theorems should really stoke the dying embers of my flame of passion but like Green's theorems, they turn me an unsightly shade of green.

As honoured as I am to be mingling with bigheads and wiseheads who have dedicated their lives to making addition and subtraction much more complex than the type my kindergarten teacher deluded me with, I am FATIGUED. I apologize profusely for my clandestine affair with the TV and my many books, but for the sake of our 17 years together please do not fail me this May. I still do keep your words and teachings in mind everday. That is, when it pertains to store discounts on my shoes, movies and books.

P.s : This is a love letter. It really is! It's your friends I have a problem with.

Lots of love,

Your 'biggest, greatest' fan