One Month to the Day

And.. one month to the day since Organised Chaos was down.. it is now back up. The blog is, anyway. There are still some pictures and what not which have not appeared; a little tweaking on the templates .. but that can wait until I sit myself down at one of these free Wifi places.

All I have to do now is export entries in Screwed on Backwards over ; and hopefully normal business resumes.

Oh, and if you see any errors when commenting etc. please let me know ek..

Fast Internet Access

Had to blog.

Can't resist.

If fast internet connection won't come to Idlan, Idlan will come to fast internet connection. And so, am connected to the free Wifi network Starbucks offers, here at KLCC.

This place is filled with people on laptops. It should be HQ for Freeloaders Anonymous. Tommorow must come at 7am lah.. have to be kiasu and hog the power socket. And as someone suggested, bawak extension plug sekali. Sharing is, after all, caring..

On Schedule

In a long, long while.. I've never had as strong a rethink as to what I should do with my future as I did tonight, driving in pitch black darkness along the North-South Highway. Having enjoyed a good dinner and excellent conversation; I was reminded more and more of my rather spartan existence back in the UK, where my work is my life, and my life is my work. Was this what I wanted to go back to, and was this the way I wanted my future to be?

It sucks that the good things in my life are separated by a distance of a couple thousand miles. Part of me wants to be in Malaysia - my parents are here, people I can actually talk to are here. But the privacy I crave for as far back as I can remember are in England; my freedom to be me is in England; people who make me appreciate my self worth are in England. Why can't I have the best of both worlds? Don't answer that - the question is rhetorical, the answer to which is 'That's the way life goes'.

Two weeks along my vacation and already I'm questioning whether I am able to pull it off for another year worrying about things like the state of my parent's health; or where my dad is waking up on any one morning in this terror-ridden climate we live in today. But having been away and then come home again, I know that coming home is only fun when I know I will leave again; and being home for too long will drive me up the wall.

But being nomadic isn't the way to go.. you leave too many people to ever have a proper relationship; or people end up leaving you. It sucks that I don't even have time to cultivate friendships, because I know I shouldn't even bother, since sooner or later someone will pack their bags and leave, physically more than metaphorically.

*sigh*.. so introspective all of a sudden. Aaah.. maybe it's just the night; the sitting by this window overlooking the sea; the storm starting to rage outside; and the muffled voice of my sister pretending not to talk to her boyfriend from beneath the covers, thinking I can't hear her.

Maybe it's just scheduled melancholy, and nothing more.

Tuition for All: Part Deux

Cerebral commented, in my Tuition for All post, that perhaps the ministry should look into teachers giving tuition for tax free money, and potential of a conflict of interest.

My theory is that this may well be what was intended in the first place. We all agree that for the very noble task of educating today's children (tommorow's leaders), teachers get paid a pittance. Perhaps this is one way to enable teachers to enjoy the luxuries of modern life like their fellow degree-owning former university colleagues, who have secured 'professional jobs' with pay that is commensurate to their tasks.

Or have I been reading too many conspiracy theory type fiction again?

Dan Brown & Hollywood

Ever since I found a cheap copy of the Da Vinci Code at a bookshop on Oxford Street in London (I know - Oxford Street, cheap?), I decided to read the previous books Dan Brown wrote before he hit conspiracy theory heaven with the aforementioned novel. I know, there's not a lot - only four: Digital Fortress, Deception Point, Angel and Demons and The Da Vinci Code; but hey, on my schedule.. you get the drift. And besides, I've only read three out of the four. Oh, and for those who have read the Da Vinci Code but none of the others, only Angel and Demons features Robert Langdon.

One thing I've noticed in the way these novels have been written is that they unfold like a movie. Movies of the Air Force One type, typically where there is a hero/ine, a love interest, a shady good guy who is actually the bad guy, moments of intense life and death situations in which the two main characters bond, the near death scene which ends in a dramatic rescue.. all that is missing seems to be the line "If it wasn't for these darned kids.. "

I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. It makes the read much easier - you get nice mental images to accompany what you read; but after a while you know how predictable the story lines are; and somehow while you can tolerate that in a 2 hour movie, how high a level of tolerance would you have for a 500 page book? Granted, Brown's later works (Angels and Demons & Da Vinci Code), while still formulaic, have a different pull with the hidden codes / conspiracy theory storyline. The earlier books don't have this, and the Hollywood formula seems painfully obvious to me.

Sit Rep

I am slowly uploading the old website back from it's backup. At the moment, my own blog is too big a folder for dialup to handle without me tying up the phone lines for too long; but Khalil's blog is back up. At the moment you can only view it - but I am working on getting the commenting and everything else back on track.

Tuition for All

This is perhaps not much more than a thought than something that has been well formulated, but..

it seems that taking extra tuition is the rage these days. Everyone is doing it. Even the Ministry of Education is giving away tuition vouchers for 'needy' students, so that they are not left behind.

Now.. let's see.

If everyone needs tuition - then doesn't this mean that

- the teaching is inadequate; or
- that the syllabus in over convoluted, so much so that the students don't have time to learn everything within the prescribed school hours; or
- if the emphasis at tuition is on study skills and - let's face it - how to tackle exam questions so that you get straight A's with minimal effort, then perhaps this should be integrated into the syllabus so that students who are less well off to go to the top tuition centers are not left out?

I dunno..

Such is Life

One of the things I miss most about being in England is my super-fast internet connection. Even our BT Broadband connnection at home, which I often think of as inferior, moves at the speed of Superman-desperate-for-the-toilet if compared to dialup. (Obviously). I know Bangi has Streamyx these days (haven't the times changed!!) but the minimum contract is for a year, and I'm only home for a month. I'm not going to pay RM88 for eleven months worth of surfing when no one actually does. Najah calls this payback.. for having 'true broadband' 11 months of the year ... heheh.

It's been a week and a couple of days since I arrived in Malaysia, and I know I haven't been catching up with most people I intended to. My dad has planned an activity every weekend I am here. So that blows hanging out for brunch or anything. And most weekdays, I babysit in the morning so that my mum can get lunch on the table, and only then do I go out. Sometimes I'm so knackered after chasing around a 2 year old, I just can't be bothered to venture any further away from Kajang.

My sister is a bundle of joy. No, really, she is. She has surprises lurking around every corner. Yesterday she found the optical mouse on our PC, and seeing that it had a red light, declared "Ya (her name is Nadia) nak bayar barang lah"; and proceeded to 'scan' everything she saw with the optical mouse, just like in the supermarkets. I just wish, sometimes, that she had a pause button. Or would go to sleep on time. She slept at 3am the other day. I had a 10am brunch appointment with Noi. Had to send Farah to tuition at 8am. It wasn't pretty.

So yeah.. that's the state of play with me. If I don't call or don't make an effort, it doesn't mean I am avoiding everyone. Please, call me. Jolt me back into realising that I do have a life beyond babysitting, and running off to the JPJ.

Finally....

... the 'good' people at IpowerWeb have restored my website. It still needs to be reorganised to resemble what was there before; and on dial-up that doesn't look so good; but at least it's there.

Secondly, in the run up to O.C. tonight, Malaysian Idol was on. I hope this random bloke called Andrew wins. For the pure pleasure of watching judges on World Idol tell him what a flat voice he has, and that he can't sing his way out of a karaoke bar.

Idlan's Adventures at Wangsa Maju JPJ

Ah, how much I love Malaysia bureaucracy and governmental agencies. Today was day three in the 'Idlan does Geran Kereta Hilang' series. Yesterday I made an attempt to secure a Permit Khas Sehari so that I could drive the no-road-tax Kancil to Puspakom for an engine checkup as required; but the window on the passenger side of my car decided it had had enough, fell and refused to go back up. With the window gaping open locking the car was totally pointless; so instead I ended up going to a workshop to fix that.

So today, I made my way JPJ Wangsa Maju, asked the kaunter pertanyaan about my predicament, and in true makcik-malas-nak-layan fashion, I was shoved some forms, was told to fill them in and was directed to a random counter next door. Luck would have it, it was of course the wrong room; and as I finally made my way to the right location, I was informed that I needed copies of my I/C to be submitted. Having not been told about this before, I was ushered to a photocopy shop just outside the JPJ compound, who conveniently charged RM0.40 for an A5 photocopy of my I/C. Such is capitalism and opportunity.

Having done that, I was then asked to go to another room; only to have found it to be closed because of lunch break. Fair play, I thought, and went to pick up my brother at his hostel in Titiwangsa in the meanwhile. Came back, queued up again, and was told I also needed the insurance documents before I could proceed with the permit application. Since the car's road tax had already expired, I of course needed to take out an insurance policy - hence the next thing to do was: head home, and dream nice dreams of another day in Wangsa Maju soon. None of these documents was explicitly told to me in advance, and no info was found on the website : I was just told to go to JPJ with a copy of my police report; and for all intents and purposes, this I did do.

Now instead of criticising, let's today think of perhaps what could be done to improve the system (yes, my management control systems hat came right on the second I found out I was ushered to the wrong counter).

For starters, barring overhauling the ladies at the information counter with a courtesy implant, perhaps leaflets could be distributed with specific instructions as to what to do if something happens. Make said leaflets available for perusal on the JPJ website. Distribute them to driving schools. And such leaflets must cover as many contigencies as possible. For instance, in my case, the issue is Geran Kenderaan Hilang; but in my case the road tax has also expired, so what to do in this case? This should be detailed.

I also find it ironic that service counters, such as this, close for lunch. Mainly because for most people, they may well take their lunch break to pop out for a bit and run errands. The economics of this doesn't make sense - supply doesn't equal demand. An alternative would be to have half the staff take early lunch, and then man the counters so that the rest of the staff could have their break. Or have one group go later, whichever.

Thirdly, I suppose wallcharts would also be useful - so people would not be wandering around guessing where they should be going first.

I don't hold it against JPJ for requiring the documents I didn't have. It makes sense - for instance, in order to drive a car, it should be insured, hence an uninsured car cannot be awarded a temporary permit. But I wish I knew about it, and I wish there was information about it I could read up on before trekking halfway across KL.

But at least the JPJ have a half decent website. Not like another government agency I know of..

Additional anecdote:

I saw a group of men staring at a monitor hoisted up on the ceiling in one room. I thought, "Wow, these people, they even have time to monitor their shares here." Apparently not so. It was.. the latest car plate numbers, as they were issued.

School Reunions

I met up with eight of my high school friends yesterday. But there was a purpose for the extremely high ex-STFian per square kilometre concentration in Bangsar last night - we were planning for our ten year batch reunion.

Yes, I went to boarding school; and I suppose that yes, I was 'indoctrinated' enough back then to not only want to attend this reunion, but also help to organise it. Going against all grains of coolness (as defined by some), I did not spend my five years there pining to be home with my family; neither was I relentlessly bullied by my seniors, nor was I ever inflicted with life-changing incidents that scarred me for life. (At least by the humans. As for the less human inhabitants.. that's fodder for another post.) Never was I ever taught that I was better than my non-boarding school going peers - for many an exam result proved otherwise. Post UPSR, my name came out of the proverbial hat, I was sent to JB and I spent five years of high school there. It was a school. End of story.

But the friends that we made; and the friendships that we fostered - that to me was the special bit. And that was really the point of having a reunion.

Truth be told, I have always been quite apprehensive about reunions in general, because many a time I've been told it is nothing more than a show-and-tell extravaganza - how many degrees do you have? What car do you drive? How many figures does your annual salary run into? Are you married? Is your husband getting paid better than my husband? Is your kid walking at an earlier age than mine? The achievers of the batch will attend and play games of one-upmanship all through the night; the ones feeling inferior will not bother turning up at all. And to me, that in itself defeats the purpose.

I was glad the other members of the committee - all consisting of volunteers, mind you - shared my sentiments; and we've decided that the whole affair is to celebrate what we have in common (i.e. the memories) and not harp about the differences that have cropped up in the past decade. We now just hope people will bother to turn up!

Some people like to brand boarding school graduates as elitist, because they tend to group together, and share a so-called 'special bond'. I beg to differ - I think any group of people with a similar background group together and share a bond, be it the state you come from (I am Kelantanese, I should know about this!), the country, the same university, the same hometown, even. It gets 'elitist' when people think they are above others - and we all know you need not to have gone to boarding school, or any school, to perasan macam bagus.

The Mercedes Benz

A conversation today sparked this train of thought - how much are Mercedes' a status symbol for Malaysians? I've just noticed that every time people talk to me about APs in England, (or more often, to inquire whether I'd be interested in selling them my AP), the leading question would be: "Tak nak beli Merc bawak balik Malaysia ke?"

It is not uncommon for Malaysian students to buy a Mercedes to ship home. Even before I went to the UK, people were ooh-ing and aaah-ing over the new Merc model Dr. so-and-so bawak balik after finishing his doctorate. That in itself is not surprising, since cars abroad are so much cheaper than in Malaysia - for comparison purposes, if the purchasing power of the ringgit is on par with that of the pound, almost (note: purchasing power, not the value); then a fresh graduate earning GBP 1500 could buy a new Vauxhall Corsa for about GBP8000; a Malaysian fresh graduate earning MYR 1500 has to fork out RM25,000 for a new Kancil.

But why is there a fascination, among Malaysians, for a Merc? Why not a Volvo or a BMW, which are all superior European cars too? Does the Merc really have an edge when it comes to design? Or did a group of pioneers 'decide' that Mercs were the way to go; and in the same way that people 'decide' Microsoft should be hated 'sebab dia Microsoft lah' without any arguments to support their dislike such as disagreement with its business plan or it's aggressive marketing, people also 'agreed' that Mercs were cool?

I'm not saying that Mercs aren't any good. I'm just curious as to who made it the holy grail of statushood to own one.

Of course, if said Malaysian student in the UK could afford to ship home a Merc, but still relied on child benefits from the British government.. well.. that's quite a different story, no?

*Credits to Ash for Microsoft analogy

Toll Gates in Kajang

There are toll gates in Kajang!!! Ah.. the sign of the times.

This is my latest discovery of the day, right after the discovery of a new shopping mall in Putrajaya. My parents go to Carrefour a lot for groceries; it's nice that there is now one just 15 minutes away - and without tolls to pay like the one in Sri Petaling, but hey, given time, there'd be a toll every other kilometer round these parts. Like the aforementioned one in Kajang.

The SILK highway does make the road to Kajang less congested, but as with all good roads in Malaysia, there is a price to pay. I wonder how much the average Malaysian pays in tolls going to and from work in the Klang Valley, and how much of a chunk that is from their monthly pay packets.

My little sister no longer screams the roof of our house off when I leave the house - even managed to do a bit of shopping tonight and go out for a meal with Fisz and Tini afterwards. Fisz now lives in Ampang but these past few days she's been a willing driver into these parts. Tini is Fisz's friend from high school whom I also got to know through Lin because they were studying together at IC before. My circle of friends don't stretch very far, as you can see. So why not help me get to know more people - you in particular? Drop me a line hehhe (amacam, cukup desperate tak?)

I hope my sister is okay with me leaving the house tommorow - someone in this house has conveniently lost my Kancil's geran kereta while I was away; and guess who has to make the police report, go to Puspakom and pick up the proverbial pieces? I'm surprised there isn't a pile of bills waiting to be paid, sitting on the table. There might be by the time I wake up tommorow, though.

Thoughts on Anwar...

... Ibrahim, that is.

This comment on Anwar Ibrahim's release from prison is somewhat belated; perhaps on purpose more so than the fact that I boarded a plane for a 12 hour ride within 24 hours of his release, but I figured it was best to let the euphoria die down and do some thinking before I open my big fat gob.

Back in 1998, when Anwar was arrested, it was the 'in-thing' to do to fight for 'reformasi'; to proudly denounce Dr. M and to mark UMNO as an evil. Nevermind that when the polls came round the next year, many of these people whom I knew did not want as much 'change' as they took to the streets for and voted for Barisan Nasional instead.

As Anwar was found guilty, many of these people whom I knew disappeared into the cracks, quietly ashamed of their youthful folly. Some whom even fought side by side with him absconded his party, returning to their Barisan / UMNO roots. It looked like Keadilan had nothing left to fight for.

I am not ashamed to admit, whether it is / was cool or not, that I took an academic stance during everything, perhaps a chip from the old block that my father was in those days, and decided to view things from the sidelines instead of getting involved in the brawl. I had my views, and when asked, I would state them, but for the most part I read foreign press, local press and listened to others without wearing a badge of any colour.

I mean, I never saw Anwar commit sodomy, so how was I to know whether he was guilty or not? But I knew from reading the trial transcripts that there were discrepancies which raised doubts to me - but I was not the presiding judge so that didn't matter. As for 'misuse of power' and 'corruption'; well, let's just say that not too many politicians would not go to jail if they too, were put to trial for this offence.

I'm glad his sodomy judgment was overturned, though, because I think this caused him and his family more hurt than the corruption charges ever did. Am I glad that he is free? My political ideals, race and religious matters aside, (and they are really rather idealistic) are those along the lines of transparency and balance.

I want to see an opposition being allowed to criticise the government to keep them in check, without shooting their mouths off and calling everyone who disagrees with them infidels. I want to see an opposition that is allowed to get the same access to media rights; if the government gets more airtime with the RTMs that's fine, but if any of the private stations wish to support an opposition party, they can do so without fear of hilang kontrak.

I want to see a newspaper with journalistic integrity being allowed to criticise the government in a smart, intellectual way without living in fear of having their license revoked or having their distribution 'limited'. And I would love to see a government not living in constant fear of being ousted or of losing their power that they would go into extremes to make sure they stayed ; because with a sound, solid opposition - the country would not go into chaos, and should the ruling government lose power, their roles as the then-opposition carries enough weight to keep the current government in check. And finally, I'd love to see the opposition be given due credit, instead of incessantly being branded ungrateful and insolent. They are part of the democratic process; and shouldn't be hindered.

If Anwar's return will allow for this, even partially, then he has my support.

I hate dial-up

I won't go on and on about how hot Malaysia is, or how mad their drivers are, although I do believe the two are correlated, to a certain extent. But yes, it's good to be back, and OH MY GOD it's good to be behind the steering wheel of my car once again. Only on Sunday, I went to Mines (and back, forgetting how uselessly inept the people there are at closing off the parking space when the car park is full), drove my brother to his college at Banting and then became my dad's chauffeur for a wedding reception he had to attend at Hotel Istana.

The only snag?

My little sister, all 2 years and 9 months of her, has decided that I am not to leave her sight at any time. Ever. Or else she will start crying her heart out until I come home (this experiment was successfully carried out when me and Fisz paid Lin a visit at Uniten, where her brother graduated yesterday). My mum and dad reckon, I should stick at home for a couple more days until the novelty of me being home wears off. They also think after a few more days, I should just go out anyway, because if she gets too attached it will be even worse when I get on the plane back to Lancaster.

And so, that is why I have yet to establish contacts with those I meant to. Gimme a couple more days. Oh, and if you've got my number, please feel free to call and once I've shaken off these shackles off my feet, we can go for coffee. Or something that all you posh KL people do.

Blogging from the boondocks of Bangi
Idlan

Sidetrip

Am taking a little sidetrip. God willing, be back with you soon.

Midnight SMS-es

My mobile beeped with the sound of a SMS while I was deep in slumber. My hand reached out for it on the bedside table, and in half-consciousness, I read what it said.

"Anwar is free"

So my mind starting clicking.

"Eh.. kenapa dengan Anuar? Is he around in Lancaster ke apa? Nak ajak minum ke apa free free ni?"

Then I checked who the sender was, and realisation set in.

Thanks, beb, for keeping me in the know :)

Adventures in KL Below

The further I travel with the Lady Door, Richard Mayhew and Hunter in London Below, (I have thus far managed to advance a good seventeen pages from the last time I blogged about Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere) the further my mind wanders off to create an offshoot story of my own. In this novel, we are introduced to London Below, a parallel world that exists among the many tunnels of the London Underground, where there is really an angel named Islington at the Angel Islington; where one avoids the Shepherds at Shepherd's Bush; where monks in black can be found at Blackfriars; and where the Earl holds his court at - where else - Earl's Court.

So, even though the underground stretch of the Putra line is but a recent addition, I got wondering about who could inhibit KL Below. Musing with a friend over YM yesterday, it came to mind that would P. Ramlee be making movies in Technicolor beneath Jalan P. Ramlee? Who, indeed, would be waiting, patiently, for Jebat at Jalan Hang Tuah? Would a big cat terrorise Jalan Kuching of KL Below? Whose palace would inhibit the parallel Jalan Istana? What trade would Haji Taib ply beneath his Lorong? Would Sultan Hishamuddin or Ismail rule? Or will the Rajas Laut and Chulan fight it out? And would it be in KL Below that we find the forefathers of our 47-year old nation, Tunku Abdul Rahman and Tun Abdul Razak, weeping at the state of the nation they fought so hard to free? Given our propensity for naming roads after people, what would this alternate reality really be like?

And to think, I only picked the book up after seeing it go for 25p at a car boot sale, when a little voice in my head (not sure if it was Idlan B or Idlan C) said to me, "There's a book by that author that Ash, Pickyin and DaisyBoo mention once so often in their blogs." Whoever this Neil Gaiman guy is, he must rawwk.. it's been a long while since I've had stories in my head.

Small things

An often quoted anecdote when talking about sins within the Islamic perspective is one about the dosa kecil and dosa besar - where at the same time that one strives to stray away from the dosa besar, one must not also lose sight of the dosa kecil, because despite it being 'small', when oft repeated, would care as large an impact as a dosa besar.

I'd like to think that the same works for good deeds too - that spending a million pounds donating to a charity and hope that carries you to heaven is just as effective as doing the small things consistently, like lifting a pushchair onto the bus, helping someone with luggage from the platform to the taxi stand (*note: running away with said luggage negates the good deed done), or just perhaps helping to carry someone's pile of marking to their car.

This morning on the bus to town, our driver saw a woman running along, and the bus stop was a few meters away still. He slowed down and stopped.. only for the woman to thank him profusely, but informed him she wasn't actually running for the bus. No biggie, said the driver, and drove on. He may have lost 30 seconds, but he won my respect, whether he realised it or not.

Useless bit of trivia

.. two bands with names of two Premiership stars playing for the same team..

:)

(for context)

Waking Up

I once told a friend (and made a passing remark on my previous blog, may it be restored soon) that like millions of women around the world, I wanted to fall for the dark, broody, tortured artist type - only to wake up one morning and realise that 'dark' really meant incessantly depressed, 'broody' meant moody and 'tortured artist' was just a euphemism for the mengada cam nak mampus type.

To me, Jewel's song Foolish Games underlines that moment when one realises this reality.

Foolish Games
by Jewel

You took your coat off and stood in the rain,
You're always crazy like that.
And I watched from my window,
Always felt I was outside looking in on you.
You're always the mysterious one with
Dark eyes and careless hair,
You were fashionably sensitive
But too cool to care.
You stood in my doorway, with nothing to say
Besides some comment on the weather.

Well in case you failed to notice,
In case you failed to see,
This is my heart bleeding before you,
This is me down on my knees, and...

These foolish games are tearing me apart,
And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.
You're breaking my heart.
You're always brilliant in the morning,
Smoking your cigarettes and talking over coffee.
Your philosophies on art, Baroque moved you.
You loved Mozart and you'd speak of your loved ones
As I clumsily strummed my guitar.
You'd teach me of honest things,
Things that were daring, things that were clean.
Things that knew what an honest dollar did mean.
I hid my soiled hands behind my back.
Somewhere along the line, I must've gone
Off track with you.

Well, excuse me, guess I've mistaken you for somebody else,
Somebody who gave a damn,
Somebody more like myself.

You took your coat off,
Stood in the rain,
You're always crazy like that.

And then they were named...

After watching an episode of the O.C. on E4 (you can never get too much of a good thing haha), I stumbled upon one useless morsel of information, so useless that it would forever be etched in my brain:

I now know of two bands named after Premiership football stars: Rooney and Keane. What are the odds that they'd turn up playing for the same side - soon?

Proudly British.. and Muslim: Part Deux

Amir Khan ended up getting a silver yesterday, but his face was as prominent across the back pages of the British newspapers today as that of Kelly Holmes. I flicked through the different publications while getting my daily Guardian (which was sold out, in the end) - front page Kelly, back page Amir. Not bad for a 17 year-old from Bolton, one might say. Better still that this was a 17-year old British Muslim from Bolton.

British Muslims - and Muslims living in Britain - have never been given an easy ride since September 11, despite the fact that many abhor violence and are in no way supportive of terrorism, whatever the form. Say Muslim and mosque, and the first image that comes to the mind of many Brits is that of radical cleric Abu Hamza, and sadly not of more peaceful and yet prominent Muslims like Yusuf Islam. Amir's rise to the forefront of British amateur boxing, and the silver medal he brought home from Athens with him, could potentially prove to be a new front to the way the public views Muslims. Coupled with the fact that he is, reportedly, 'a devoute Muslim who never drinks', perhaps mosque-going Muslims in the UK can finally begin to rid themselves of the image that all they do at mosques is plot how to next bomb the country.

Also ironically how newspapers like The Sun and Daily Star overplay the so-called threats all Muslims pose to the country, and yet in the same breath want to embrace heros whose roots lie in the very people they want eradicated from the country. Their extreme views - which are read (and arguably, believed) by the working class, hurt racial relations more than they heal. But then again, responsible reporting isn't quite the hallmark of these publications.

In times when such media often cry out for the deportation of immigrants and cite them (collectively) as the source of the rise in crime, it is also worth noting that Britain's track & field golds had a distinct Carribean flavour to it; and the rest of Britain's gold haul (sailing, rowing, cycling and equestrian) were not in working-class related sports. At a time when pre-Olympic favourites like Tim Henman and Paula Radcliffe fell by the wayside, Team GB's heros consisted of a 34 year old black woman and a 17 year old Asian boy.

Good job, Amir; it's not just about the medal now. He could well be the face of change in racial relations within this country. While people now are more openly acception of those with African / Carribean backgrounds, Asians hailing from India and Pakistan and Muslims still have a hill, if not a mountain, to climb. It sounds optimistic, but if his rise has led to one more person understanding what being a British Muslim is really about, above and beyond the trash reported in the media, then it won't be a waste.

There seemed to be genuine surprise that Amir was proudly British, when in actual fact, what else was he? Now, to convince the rest of the country people like him are the rule, and not the exception.

Proudly British - and Muslim

Amir Khan*, that is. Not me. As I am writing this, I am waiting for Khan's bout against Cuba's Kindelan... Britain's latest hero. He's 17, he's from Bolton and he's a Muslim.

And I am quietly proud, whether he wins or not.

In Amir, we have a contemporary hero who has grown organically from the rough streets of Bolton. Pakistani boys don't usually box. They play cricket and football, but in their own leagues, because they feel like they won't be accepted as equals in the mainstream. Northern England is the heartland of British Muslim dissatisfaction. Boys such as Amir are better known for the Oldham riots than for Olympic glory.

Read Fareena Alam's Observer article here

More reflections on this after the fight.

*Not to be confused with Hindi actor Aamir Khan

Playing by the rules

One of the mailing lists I was on forwarded a link from the website of Nik Roskiman, affliliated with the IIUM and currently in Edinburgh pursuing his PhD. His article discussed the issue of Malaysians in the UK applying for child benefits and other credits made available by the British government, within the context of the restriction of student visas to the UK, which clearly state that we should not have recourse to public funds.

He argued:

(1) Jika sekiranya warga Malaysia/orang asing dibenarkan mengikut undang-undang Britain mendapatkan benefits yang disebutkan tadi, maka tiadalah ia menjadi satu kesalahan dan diharuskan mengikut syarak;

(2)Walaubagaimanapun, bagi pelajar Malaysia yang datang ke sini bersama Visa masing-masing tercatat "No Recourse to Public Funds", kita sewajarnya menyemak dahulu apakah tafsiran "public funds" itu. Ianya boleh dilihat di salah satu laman berikut:
i. UK Visas Public Funds List;
ii. Definition of Public Funds

Maka jika apa yang dimaksudkan "No Recourse to Public Funds" di sini termasuk juga di dalamnya child benefit/ working credit tax benefits dan lain-lain seperti yang disenaraikan di laman berkenaan, maka adalah jelas sekali hukumnya Haram di sisi Islam menuntut wang yang tidak layak dituntut oleh kita.

Full text here

This was then supplemented by arguments taken from various kitabs, the Quran and the Hadith, which you can read from the link given above.

What was interesting to me was one of the commenters who clearly disagreed with Nik Roskiman's arguments, saying, in the voice bordering on arrogance that we hear so much these days:

Kirim salam pada Nik Roskiman, dia baru di sini dia ingat orang British baik sangat. Mereka tangkap orang guna Terrorist Act, susahkan memberi Visa, ada yang terkandas di airport berjam-jam jadi tak salah kita ambil duit mereka.

The question of whether it is wrong or right to claim for such benefits aside, I see a lot of flawed logic in this commenter's way of thinking. Because we perceive (and this is very much a matter of perception, because many could argue that what the British government are doing, with the arrests akin to the ISA and making visa requirements stringent in the interest of public safety makes perfect sense) people to be bad, it automatically makes it right for us to commit a counter-sin? Two wrongs making a right? In effect, because some governments are perceived to be 'wrong'; it's right then for us to plunder their banks and steal their money? Why stop there, why not kill their young and rape their women, then?

I've always believed that judging the rights and wrongs of others is best left to the Almighty; all we need to do is try and play by the rules. Within the context of religion, faith and belief in God, what do you think? (Atheists and those who do not subscribe to organised religion, I gather, may have different views)

ChitChatBola Up and Running

Phew.. ChitChatBola is back up and running. It's hosted at a new location, with its own domain; and apart from the template which I will work on tommorow, everything is set to run again (and hopefully, hell of a lot more smoothly too!)

I hope the blip hasn't scared off any of the writers - and I openly invite new writers, especially those who do not support Liverpool, Arsenal or Manchester United - to join in. Just drop me an email and I'll sort things out for you.

Other things to settle:
a) Links for this blog on sidebar
b) Template for ChitChatBola
c) Getting a life

Bigger picture

You know, in the bigger picture, perhaps all that has happened is for the better. For one, I knew the true colours of my webhost, and can proceed to never ever recommending them to anyone ever again. Secondly, I'd been toying with starting over, location-wise for a long time already; and while my brain dilly-dallied over the pros and cons, fate (and technical faults) helped press the fast-forward button. Jikon once told me not to put all website related matters in one hosting basket. Perhaps now is a good time to put his words to practice.

And thirdly, perhaps moving away from my given name as a URL might be not so bad after all. It's not people knowing me I'm worried about. It's people who know my dad; and the people who will relate me and who I am, within the context of my dad. And as much as I would like to think I am my own person, his shadow is one I still struggle to crawl out of.

Blogger seemed to be the natural reverting point, as it was where I began. Plus if (and when) I get back to hosting things on a server again, blogger imports into Movable Type easily. Blogger does its job, I suppose, if blogging was all I wanted to do; but me being me, I'd like a little more control over matters and MT allows this to a certain extent. Plus I've got plans to develop something I've been toying with, and as much as I may keep this blog on blogger, my side-project will definitely employ MT. But more about that later.

And so the quest for a domain name begins. See poll on sidebar.Choose. Dead easy, eh?

Congratulations.. you found me.

Some of you may have had front-row seats to the saga that was my website this past week. It is a memory I do not want to relive. Suffice to say, last Sunday, an internal error occured while I was updating my files and doing some spring cleaning, and the public_html folder was deleted. In usual circumstances, to idiot proof the server, the control panel allows us to just restore it (not unlike Windows); but this too crashed. Everything was gone. I contacted tech-support of my hosts, and despite their own applauding of their excellent customer service, here I am 5 days later holding on to a promise that they would restore everything within 24 hours, which they made on Tuesday. So much for.. whatever.

I would restore from the (very meager) backup that I have, but that doesn't include Khalil's stuff or the new CCB, plus if I carry on as normal, and they suddenly decide to restore, things will be overwritten and I frankly do not have the energy to go through this again. Contrary to popular belief, I actually am studying. I'm just going to sit back and wait for that to be sorted out.

And so, action had to be taken. I've decided that chitchatbola will be hosted elsewhere; and this is being done as we speak. My personal blog will be hosted on blogspot until the restore is performed (we're hoping some time before America invade another country); and once I can get my hands on my files again, I'll set up shop elsewhere. Because we know even good 'ole blogger can get temperamental at times.

Back to Basic

Sometimes, when all else fails, return to blogger?