RACONTEUR-ESQUE SCRIBBLINGS

If you were to go back about 15 years ago and asked anyone on the streets about the political situation in Malaysia, you might have just received a shrug, and perhaps if the person you asked was friendly enough, you'd get a small conversation on how boring it was. The conversation would have ended there, because there wouldn't have been much else to say. You might have even gone for coffee and discussed the situation (war) in the Balkans instead. Fast forward to 15 years later, almost anyone can tell you about the exciting things that happen almost every single day, from catfights to uncouth behaviour. From arrests and allegations, ridiculous road blocks that cause massive traffic jams, to the news of an unlikely coalition which if it ever became likely would crush about slightly more than 1/3 of the people to little crumbling pieces of gingerbread men/women. In fact, at the rate things were going just about two weeks ago, you'd think that the socio-political websites wo...

And let's throw in the referees. So, later tonight football fans over here will be headed to catch the match between Chelsea and Malaysia at Stadium Shah Alam. I personally know at least 2 people who will be joining thousands (maybe) of fans at the stadium to cheer for their favourite team and to see up close the faces that so often grace our television sets on Saturday nights. Football to Malaysians is like salt to soup. It's essential. Ask anyone you know, and they will definitely have a favourite team, either from The English Premier League, or La Liga Espanyol (where the players are sometimes a tad bit too good looking for anyone's good ) or the Italian League and people will sacrifice their sleep (nevermind the consequences) just to keep score of the exciting going ons in EURO, or the World Cup because the live matches are mostly aired late at night due to the time zone differences. Sadly, we ourselves do not have as many talents in the field out there these days...

When I was a kid, I moved to a different state at that obscure time between leaving primary school and entering secondary school. So while my friends stayed behind in the same state, and almost all of them went to the same school together (albeit a different one from the primary school) while strengthening the bonds of friendship, I ended up having to go to a brand new place and had to make new friends from scratch, and being me, it wasn't easy at all. I recently joined a group that carries the school's name, call it alumni if you will and that led me to the school's (official?) website. There weren't many photos there but from the few that were put up, the school looks really different now compared to back in the day. For a start, the single story buildings seem to be part of the past. The few buildings that were in the pictures are at least 2 stories high. I wonder if the main building that was there from the colonial times and is rumoured to be haunted is still the...

As much as I like listening to the radio during my journey to and from work (especially to, and less of from), I have this feeling that it's all unrequited. Radio stations hate me. There's no other explanation. I think it was about over a month ago when I mentioned about a new favourite radio station, and how the deejays with their monty python-esque antics make my mornings better, and how I actually won tickets to the Indiana Jones movie, etc. Life was pretty good then. Barely two weeks later, the station decides to reformat it's content (and promote travel and adventure locally as to help the tourism industry due to rising costs of travel)... so the wake up show (which is called something else these days but I can't seem to remember what it is) is hosted by two other deejays (one of them used to host a show at night called "nocturnal with (insert deejay's name)") and they're not even funny. The saddest part of all, is that they don't even try...

I've been in front of a computer since eleven-ish this morning doing some crazy translation work that I'm at the point of near madness. (No, I'm not in publishing or translation, but in a series of events that started somewhat quite accidently earlier this month, I suddenly found myself being coerced into doing this translation work in a meeting this morning. Why, oh why am I bilingual? Ok, so are most people here... some even trilingual. But why? Again.) Anyway, after giving it some thought (and the fact that sitting at the computer gives you the opportunity to procrastinate), I figured that I'd call myself the queen of translation in the facebook update status section, which is what I just did and along the way I decided to check out my horoscope (although it may seem odd to check it out when you only have 6 hours left of the day) and found this: "If you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it is yours. There are some things you just cannot change,...

Tuesday, 8th July 2008. The sound of rain pattering on the roof woke me up from my not-so-deep sleep. I groaned inwardly thinking of how unfair it is to rain when in an hour or so I would have to get up and get to work. It remained raining throughout, but slowed to a drizzle as I left the house (about 15 minutes earlier than my usual time as there's usually a more massive traffic jam on rainy days and my intention was to avoid getting into work late). As expected the volume on the road was much more than the road could actually accommodate and for most of the journey I was moving at a pace in which if it was a snail that was doing it, it would have committed suicide in a jiffy out of sheer embarrassment. As I ambled along my usual route, I was met with one of the most unbelievable scenes ever. The road that leads to the highway that will eventually lead me to my workplace was under at least 1 metre of water. One of my colleagues saw a car getting totally submerged under the w...

Who knew that trying to shut a car door in a small space could send you flying into a patch of sand (which is sometimes referred to as a garden - what kind though... I wonder at times.) That was what happened last night when I got home from work. Despite knowing that I would have to squeeze out into the small space between the 'garden' and the car, and the fact that my feet are not really that small either, I chose to let it remain that way. I got out fine, but as soon as I closed the door, I found myself landing on the sand with a thud, after performing a fantastic pirroute in the limited space that could have made even the best ballerina turn an ugly shade of green. At the same time, I felt my ankle throb (what is a garden if it is not lined with bricks?) and my ego dented although there was no one out there to see the whole incident. I crawled out of the 'garden' and limped towards the gate to shut it and go in. The swell subsided this morning (hopefully because...

In spite of certain bad reviews by friends and complaints in the papers by strangers which seemed to be floating around like krill in the ocean right from the early 2000's, I went ahead and subscribed to the only broadband service provider back in 2006. If I'm not mistaken, it was the only service available before a couple of telco companies decided to offer their services quite recently. Contrary to what people said, it wasn't as bad as I expected it to be. Of course it was also not as high speed as you'd expect. YouTube still needs buffering most of the time, and if you used it (the broadband service) at 'peak hours'- late nights in the weekends, that is, you'd be practically crawling the net (According to a friend of mine who works in a neighbouring country, using broadband there means that buffering is non-existent) This year though, they irritated the hell out of me. Despite the fact that their service remained the same, they were sort of bought ove...

I'm beginning to wonder if the lack of living contributes to the condition where you suddenly find yourself not having much to say on your blog no matter how much you want to. Just for the record, I'm not really dead . I kind of feel dead though... Look at it this way... you see the same people everyday that they haphazardly drop by in your dreams. You practically do the same things everyday, and it takes a whole lot of your time as well, so you don't really have much time for other more interesting activities that may be worth mentioning in your blog. And then when you resign yourself to the fact that that is going to be how it is, someone decides to make it even harder by introducing a whole new concept where everyone else agrees to without giving a thought (mainly because it's not them who have to do it) and you're stuck in the middle. Well, sort of... So yes, it's true. Routine hampers creativity. Puzzle pieces can be blown away by strong winds on Saturd...

A few posts back, I mentioned about an attempt at satire that failed because I got bored even before I had reached the beginning of the story. It remains so till today, a loose document among other documents that scatter a folder that is so uncreatively named Documents. Nevertheless, I have decided to bring forth the unfinished story (actually it's merely an introduction that took a few weeks to move from my brains to a notebook and finally the screen) because I think it needs to see the light of day, and I personally would like to know what you think. THE FADED PURPLE ROBES This is a work of fiction. Any similarities with places, people or incidents, dead or alive, existent or not in the past, present or future is purely co-incidental. The old frail king sat back on his comfortable leather sofa, his head hung to the side. A crown, merely for decorative purposes was perched on his somewhat knobby right knee. His left leg was stretched out with his foot precariously close to a bo...