He's been my hero journalist from the first time I picked up theSun. He remains ever so. The way he's going, he'll never be a Datuk, and that's a fine compliment.
The Citizen continues...
Let's see how low will an MB stoop to save his own skin. Yup, that MB who boasted that his memory is of pachydermic proportions, but in us commoners' eyes, he's pretty much a rat.
Nuff said.
Now I know how it feels to be the lesser-loved sibling in a family. The dreg in the house. No matter how hard you try, how well you mean it – you sweep the floors, dust the furniture, repair the leaks, you do your best – you're never loved quite equally in return. You're never going to be good enough because there's a line drawn.
You'll never understand why.
It's been a private mystery, when as a kid listening to the story of Cinderella and The Ugly Duckling, how miserable one must go through life forever forced into repentence for no sin other than to be born into a household. A household with lines.
It took me a while, but now I know. I'm the dreg. They make sure I remember. They talk about it ever so often, these elder siblings. Sometimes under guise, sometimes outwardly sneering. Seems like it's their way of keeping me in my place. First poking, then pricking, finally piercing – over and over again. Not good enough! You're not us! they cajole. You don't feel like us, breathe like us, walk like us.
I try to understand why.
Am I gawky? Is it how I look, my slanty eyes? Is it my tongue, heavy and clumsy on this refined language? Is it who I hold as Creator? But Papa had said this didn't matter. You were born in this house and you will be equal, he had promised.
His promise was written down plain for all of us siblings to see, and placed in a shrine. These shall be the house rules, he had said, the canons. I peek at the rules and it speaks of a good home, that I am a true member of the family no more no less. With hope borne on fresh wings, I walk away. I will be loved after all.
And I sweep the floors, dust the furniture, repair the leaks; this time even harder in the hope that they'll take me as an equal. I bring in fruit from the farm, fish from the river, and candles from my own cast. I break my back carrying rock and sawing wood to make new quarters and stables for the livestock. But come dinner, in their fine garments and jewelry, they point me away from the main table. Eat over there.
But why, I ask? Without even looking at me, the elder siblings in rehearsed sequence say this is for the good of the family. That I tend to gobble too much, that I'm greedy, I make strange noises while eating, and always tend to take more than my share. That there are other siblings of their kind who are want of food. They are want of clothes even, they reason.
But there is enough food, I blurt. You, the elders, have stocks of the best meats in your store and merchants have come far and away to buy our farm yields. The family – all of us – has worked hard for it. Why do you not share?
Silence, imbecile!, the siblings in fine garments roar.
An elder has raised his fist, another murmurs about the dungeon, and a third smiles condescendingly. He points to the stained worktable outside. “Know your place in this house, little brother,” he says. “See I called you brother. We like your work ethic and what you bring to this compound, but you're not one of us. Not yet. Maybe in 15 years, maybe more, but not yet. Now, just eat there.” He jangles the keys to the dungeon just so I get the point.
I'll never understand why.
I'm back in my room, the room by the outhouse with but one window and the sturdy casts of candles. Should I cast more? Should I add jasmine and cinnamon and local mint to the wax? Should I fill my room with light? Lots of light and scents just so to sustain my spirit?
I move to the window to ponder this over. Instead I see a dusty reflection of me. I study the lines, the profile, the back. How different am I; I still fail to see what they see.
I look harder, beyond the reflection and I finally get a vision. They see me as an illegitimate, a child born out of wedlock, an inferior bloodline.
In their eyes, I'm a bastard.
Hurt, I reach for the picture book and lie back in bed. It's The Ugly Duckling. I skip the front pages – I know the beginnings and the middle, in fact I know the story well. I just want to read once again the ending. The part where in the end, a swan emerges.
Postscript:
This post was written in response to Khairy Jamaluddin's astute observations on Friday. The Oxford-educated Deputy Chief of Umno Youth was speaking at the opening of Jerlun Division Umno Youth delegates meeting.
He said: “The internal split within Umno will weaken the party’s position and this will pave way for the Chinese Malaysians to make various demands to benefit their community.”
Quoted but never carried in the Malay and English press, the shiok-sendiri world of Zam. I didn't know about it until late this morning.
This KJ guy is a walking powder keg.
Two weeks ago it was Sipadan. Yesterday Broga, and today Coliseum.... this country is taking its first steps towards developed status after all. See, despite what that clown MB from Selangor claims, a developed society is not just about haughty material possessions.
It is about soul, and soul involves listening, weighing the merits, and not being afraid to right the wrongs. That defines a true jantan.
This is something Khir Toyo and his fellas at PJ City Hall have yet to understand and is proven once again with the Billboard saga.
Datuk Seri Dr Rais Yatim - one of the very few who deserve the title - yesterday notified that the govt will not acquire the Coliseum Cinema at Jln TAR after all. Instead the search will continue for other possible sites for the proposed heritage centre. In listening, Dr Rais showed wisdom. May other ministers and fellow citizens learn from the man.
( http://www.bernama.com/bernama/v3/news.php?id=214163 )
In two weeks we'll be 49 years old as a country. In the last two weeks, we made a leap - hints of a coming of age perhaps. We matured, our cultural spirit toned up, we grew muscle and bone.
Niccolo Machiavelli wrote: "Hence it is necessary for a prince wishing to hold his own to know how to do wrong, and to make use of it or not according to necessity. "
A very recent Administration swore by this philosophy. Many among us in 21st century Malaysia on the other hand think it is a tasteless joke. And that makes all the difference.
p/s: Spent a good part of the weekend preparing an argument for saving the Coliseum... walked all around the locale from the old KTM station, through Central Market, and Petaling Street, Lebuh Ampang, Masjid India, the Padang, past the two Kamdars at TAR all the way to Sogo. Snapped a bunch of pics, grabbed satelite images of KL from Google Earth, made a quick outline for a 3-part KL arts hub piece etc.
i'm glad the episode's over. Now to tackle the billboards.
If he's serious, make it so. In my ledger, Pak Lah yesterday scored three credit points.
Credit 1: Decision to cancel crooked platform stays
( http://www.bernama.com/bernama/v3/news.php?id=213903 )
I applaud AAB for holding his ground. A unilateral effort by Malaysia will put everything back 25 years. The bridge should only be reconsidered when Malaysia-Singapore relationship reaches a new maturity. I hate to say it, but it may mean after the mortal passing away of Dr M and SM Lee. There's just too much baggage currently, which is a pity because a synergistic MSA-SIN could do so much for Southeast Asia's emergence as an economic, cultural, and political player on the world's stage. We could do so much together.
Credit 2: PM wants coconut planting to be revived
( http://www.bernama.com/bernama/v3/news.php?id=213901 )
Many might pooh-pooh this, but coconut is big. Nutritionists and dietitians have established that coconut oil beats olive oil. Google for yourself and find out. In a sustainable-oriented world, coconut trunks are being processed into structural planks, finish flooring and furniture. We know enough about the uses of the shell, copra, husk, the leaves et al. In other words, an acre of coconut trees can potentially bring in way more ringgit than sitting on your butt as an unemployed graduate. Like with many other tropical plants, we are sitting on a goldmine here yet we remain so enamoured by foreign species like birch, oak and maple.
I've always been a fan of AAB's decision to reintroduce agriculture as a key engine for economic growth. Implementation remains the biggest challenge. The Mahathir administration was too caught up with the fancy-shmancy urban high-tech industries. Agrotechnology is a field our people can definitely handle. It's been our foundation. Making cars wasn't, especially when we weren't even making bicycles. High-intensity, efficient farming in the tropics coupled with sophisticated R&D is a broad niche in the global market.
Seize it well, and we'll carve a place in the world. Lapse for a moment, and we'll lose out to communities who see this immense potential and grab it. Remember coffee? It's a product of the tropics. It's so endeared as a beverage there's even that commonly-used computer language called Java, named after the caffeine-loaded blend from the Indonesian island. The temperate West made it happen, they own it now. We have to make what's ours, ours. It begins with reverence of who we are and where we're from.
Credit 3: Malaysia affirms commitment to Aceh peace process
( http://www.bernama.com/bernama/v3/news.php?id=213872 )
Pak Lah's says he'll be encouraging Malaysian businesses to invest and spur jobs in Aceh. The Malaysian contingent will continue to play its role in the Aceh Monitoring Mission.
While domestic issues have tainted our relationship with Singapore, I do feel pride when I read about our role in helping neighbours such as our exemplary peacekeeping forces in Timur Leste, and the rescue missions during February's Southern Leyte landslide in the Phillipines. We were there after an earthquake hit Yogyakarta in May.
This is Malaysia at its finest – a true friend.
We may not be the most sophisticated outfit in a disaster zone, but we have the heart. And it is because of this humble and giving quality that we are appreciated regionally, respected and taken seriously. It is a fine quality indeed, a well-earned honour.
This is why AAB, to my mind, remains the best person in the country to help forge an energised Asean, a vibrant commonwealth rather than a sluggish acronym for a patch of land and sea. Not Mahathir, not Anwar, not Ku Li.
This is why it is also imperative he delivers his Promise on the domestic scene.
The Coliseum Cinema acquisition is yet another example of poor governance. Rais Yatim, Minister for Culture, Arts and Heritage, hasn't been clear on the whole idea about KL as Art Centre. By clear, I mean visuals, literature, proper media coverage.
On Tuesday, Rais said the Coliseum will not be an arts film theatre. Instead it will be "transformed into a National Heritage Centre to exhibit Malaysian arts, culture and heritage", reported Bernama.
Today's Star reports an about turn: “Then came the idea that if we can acquire the Coliseum and maintain its cinematic function, it would serve us better and this was the decision of the committee.”
Have they even got their plan yet?
See http://straits-mongrel.blogspot.com/ . I'm planning to get more involved in this.
The Perak skies were red and angry yesterday when, sitting centrestage, Mahathir challenged the rakyat to assess Pak Lah and act. Act fast. And if they were to take his hint - having been Prime Minister for 22 years - it's a big fat F.
In the Q&A session at Universiti Teknologi Petronas, a reporter had asked: "In your speech earlier, you mentioned that a Prime Minister be given a certain amount of time; should our present Prime Minister be given more time?"
Maha's response: "That's up to the rakyat... If we have a Prime Minister who's selling away the country, should we wait five years? We need to take action earlier.
"If he's made plans which we do not know whether they will succeed or not, such as the South Johor Economic Region - his very own idea... not influenced by anyone - but you'll have to wait for another five years."
(See AgendaDaily transcript: http://www.agendadaily.com/cmspreview/content.jsp?id=com.tms.cms.article.Article_e905c840-3132372e-10a4a320-585d75d6 )
Reporter: "Then, should a Prime Minister who's alleged to have sold the country be replaced before five years?"
This time a more curt response: "I don't say... if he sold the country, no need to wait out five years."
Wah, so serious ah?
Mahathir's good at this, you know. The dry sarcasm, the mockery, all calculated to stir feelings of animosity and belligerence.
Except when you peer deeper beyond all that the emo-aggro stuff, and search for substance, you find precious little. You'd expect constructive points, not character assassinations. You'd expect bigger issues and ideas on how to solve them. But you find boiling bile, s'all you find.
When it all first started, I thought hey, we might have an ally. It may light a fire under this administration's butt and get it to work. But the questions became loopy, rehashed, closed circuited; the motives curiouser and curioser. I'm now convinced - it's not love of country, but DNA, the baser stuff of territory and alpha maleness. Plus a chip on the shoulder.
See, of all the frigging problems we face today, our ex-PM picks four: The AP issue, Tengku Mahaleel's removal as CEO of Proton, Proton's sale of MV Agusta for 1 Euro, and the cancelled crooked platform to the middle of the Tebrau Straits (it's not even a bridge; a bridge gathers, not separates, two entities).
These frigging four! Of all the pressing issues - racial polarisation, increased income gaps, rural-urban divide, citizenship scandals in Sabah, the mega-brain drain, mediocre education system, pathetic public transport, petty thefts that take lives, a multi-media super corridor that's forever stymied by its own kryptonite, GLCs poor performance, the judiciary, local councils, and basic integrity - the man who had guided us for 22 years picks these frigging four.
That's vision for you.
As we peer into the four questions, we find out more. Three are Proton-related, while the other is a show-off, middle finger gesture to Singapore, the country he loves to hate. Proton's one of Mahathir's pet projects. It's not been doing well, been on drips for ages. The management had been crowing about its huge profits and success, but please, face the facts. The cars it produces are what we'd hate to admit but what we've come to expect - a Third World product with Third World specs. And yet it's produced and sold at a price higher than a 1.5L Toyota Yaris or a Saturn in the US, after direct conversion. Go figure.
I have lots of issues with the Pak Lah Administration. I'm holding him to his Promise, and only his Promise. For me, I'll wait till the five years are up and go to the ballot box to give my verdict. Meanwhile, I'll voice my opinions on this blog, supply an idea or two if possible. After all, I'm but a commoner.
I'm not losing sleep over a stupid crooked platform, nor spoonfeed a carmaker that hasn't performed as it's meant. I mean, what's new; we survived 22 years of such policies. Sand or no sand, Pak Lah promised he'll change the cultural landscape around here. Onwards to World Class, he says. All I can say is he's running out of time, crossed the halfway mark, and it ain't looking pretty by my book.
If Mahathir genuinely wants to see a healthy Malaysia, it'd be best if he come onboard constructively. Lobby for legislative change. Speak up for the disenfranchised. Encourage a more consultative government. Give clear ideas on how transparancy can be achieved. Spearhead a national think-tank. Whatever, but not this.
In other words, stop being an 81-year-old crybaby.
It's the Merdeka month and Nicol Ann David's started giving. She just presented another gift to Malaysia, winning her second tournament in two weeks. The amazing 24-year-old – who's a Merdeka month babe herself – beat Australian Rachael Grinhmam in the final of the Penang Open yesterday.
Just last week, she stretched limb and sinew to win the CIMB Malaysian Open, a feat which placed her again as the No 1 ranked women's squash player in the world. That needs repeating: In the world.
That's a serious feat especially since squash isn't just another an obscure sport. The Women's Squash International Players Association (WISPA) estimates that 20 million people play the game all over the world and a large majority of professional players predictably come from developed countries.
I've always maintained that it takes more determination for a person from a developing country to be world ranked, and exponentially harder to be world No 1. The hurdles are higher, the mental jacket tighter, and one trudges through cultural mud that places academic pursuits and a good job above all else. Take any sport – how many world champions are there from the Third World?
For this, Nicol is special. Nicol is what you get when iron is forged with grace and heart. A prime example of the best this nation can offer. Thank you, Nicol.
And in return, here's how much the national media organ Bernama enjoyed it – a mere nine paragraphs. ( http://www.bernama.com/bernama/v3/news_sports.php?id=212442 )
If Information Minister Zam would have been less distracted playing media sheriff...
If Sports Minister Azalina would have been less adamant on pursuing that TARCC high performance sports centre in London...
If Najib, as chairman for the Cabinet Committee on Sports, would have an inspiration...
...if they had talked, if their key people had given feedback, if they had all cared, it wouldn't have been difficult to show the game live on RTM. It would have only been obvious, simply the natural thing to do.
This has been our failing – to grasp the immediacy of genuine hard-earned national pride and share it with the entire country. So much could have been gained from it.
It's tragic when we do not get to watch our sportspeople perform even if they're the best in the world and they're playing in our home soil for the top prize. Like, hello, what's the big-time expenditure there?
Rather there's a cruel biasness towards certain favoured sports. RTM was showing a Malaysia Cup game last night, the same day Nicol won her crown. Hell, I like football; but only good football. Badminton doesn't even get that exposure nor hockey nor bowling. Worse still if you're a world champion rally driver. Ask Karamjit Singh.
This much is clear – Nicol Ann David, a Malaysian, worked very very hard to get where she is today, a champion on top of the world. SkySports viewers from around the world can catch her game, it seems. Too bad not us fellow Malaysians.
(Photo: 2005 Carlisle Stockton)
