About Nude Not Naked

I wonder if you are like me. I wondered who accompanied Tunku Abdul Rahman to London to seek for Malaya's Independence in 1956. Always and always, all descriptions of Abdul Rahman's journey to London mentions him and a "delegation". For example, "In 1954 Abdul Rahman led a delegation to London to seek independence for Malaya" (click here for source). But who really were a part of the delegation?

So I googled and searched for the names of all people who were part of the delegation. Almost everywhere mentions "Tunku and his delegation" but fails to mention who specifically formed the delegation. It troubled me that somehow the information on who were present at the meeting is missing. Or lost. Or in the process of being lost.

Personally I believe that history varies from one source to another, depending on the convenience of the information. It can be altered to suit the interest of whoever was in power at the time. You just need to omit the information from the secondary school text books for 10 years and everything that you should know, would be long forgotten. And in 50 years time, no one would have remembered the true account of what happened.





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In the spirit of Merdeka, I have dedicated today to Malaysia. I was busy reading some historical articles and biographies of influential personalities and somehow decided to find out who were the delegation.

Thankfully my fears were unwarranted. Phew, they were merely the creation of my highly imaginative mind. I found the answer in only one article from The News Straits Times.

The delegation, which also included (Tun) Abdul Razak Hussein, (Tun) Dr Ismail Abdul Rahman, (Tun) H.S. Lee, (Tan Sri) T.H. Tan and (Tan Sri) Abdul Kadir Shamsudin, had left for London by boat from Singapore on Jan 1,1956.

And now you knows...

It is important to note the people involved on that faithful day. Obviously Tunku's contributions were enormous but his contribution was not the only one. His was highlighted more often than the rest since he is Bapa Malaysia. There were other people who worked hard, toiled, believed with great passion and were alongside Tunku Abdul Rahman.

And now I will have to read about these people who were part of the delegation as I do not know much about them.





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Another interesting article. Oh forgive me if this post is a little off. I mean, it's more candid than my usual ones. It is afterall, the eve of our 50th year, so I can blabber on about Malaysia and Merdeka as much as I wish to.

Did you know... (ala Hitz dot fm)
Tunku sat in an MG during the motorade to announce the date of Independence in Melaka in 1956. Now that's what I call STYLE... Who sat with him?

"Tunku rode in together with former MCA leader Tun Tan Siew Sin and Datuk Panglima Bukit Gantang Toh Muda Abdul Wahab Abdul Aziz. It bears the same registration number, M4442.

So it wasn't Tunku sitting on the convertible on his own. He had friends with him! And now you knows....

And guess what? Apparently our Prime Minister Badawi will be riding on a motorade, similar to Tunku's in Melaka again, in conjuction with our 50th Merdeka. And who is Prime Minister Badawi riding with this time around?

This time, Abdullah will ride the car with Culture, Arts and Heritage Minister Datuk Seri Dr Rais Yatim and Chief Minister Datuk Seri Mohd Ali Rustam.

And now you knows...

I am one of those people who dream actively. I remember many dreams and on Monday, I had a dream that struck me as being more special than the rest.

I dreamt that I was pregnant and was busy doing my things. Suddenly I went into early labour and laboured for the baby. The dream wasn’t about the labour itself but what happened after the labour.

The father (NameWithheld) was not present in the labour room and was not there to comfort me. This in itself is strange, don't you think? I had the child all on my own, without support and when the baby was delivered, the doctor asked me for her name. Yes, I dreamt I had a baby girl. I didn’t know what name to give the child because I had not discussed it with the baby’s father.

But the doctor wanted a name and so I said, “Megan NameWithheld”. Now the name “Megan” is quite special in the sense that I have never thought about the name in my life. You know how girls are – we have chosen our wedding dresses and baby names since we were 5 years old. So I have a list of names that I liked to name my babies but “Megan” was never one of them.

I then recalled that there was a timeframe for naming the baby, so I told the doctor to postpone the baby name until later. He told me that I had a week to decide on the name and so I arranged for my baby to be cared by someone while I flew to NameWithheld’s country to ask him what he wanted to name the baby.

The dream ended when I left the baby under someone’s care (I can’t remember who) and informed the doctor that I would fly away to ask for the baby’s name from the father.



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What do you think the dream meant? Do you think that dreams have any meaning at all or are they just dreams?

I have been thinking about this dream and I have concluded that it is sad that I dreamt a birth that way...

To the young boy with the heart of a man, Wee Meng Chee.

“Is it so bad to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood,
and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo,
and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson



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Sometimes out of boredom, I would check my stats counter. I used to be manic about this but in recent months, I have not found enough time to be compulsive obsessive.

You will be amazed by what comes streaming through my blog’s door. I mean, the words that people googled to arrive at ANNN can make many men and women blush with sheer embarrassment! I think it’s sick that people google ‘nude child’. I do not want to know why people google ‘nude 70 year old man’. I mean, are the 70 year old man’s nuts that appetising?

Today I received yet another anomaly in the goggle searched words. Some person from Kansas googgled “malay pig” and arrived here at my blog. I would like to address this person, whoever he is. The rest of you folks just have to bear with me as I correct this particular person's misconception.





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To The One Who Searched For 'Malay Pig',

I would like to take a moment to correct what you googgled for. I take offence that you associated the word “Malay” with the word “pig”. As you might or might not know, Malays are born Muslim in our wonderful country, Malaysia. They are blessed folks who have chosen to know the right path to God. And as you might or might not know (because I am assuming you aren't Malaysian - hence the rude google search) Muslims cannot consume pork and they do not like to be associated with pigs.

Therefore I would like to clarify that there is no association between “Malay” and “pig”. I hope that you will not search for any more articles with the words “Malay” and “pigs” strung next to each other and if you continue to do so, I am offended on behalf of my Muslim friends. Your actions are callous and insensitive towards our many diversity here in Malaysia.

However you may associate the words “Chinese” and “pig”. I don't think I am a pig but my opinions might differ from the mainstream. Nothing much will happen to you if you associate the Chinese with pigs because many Chinese have had those words thrown at them. This has been going on for so many years without much protest from the Chinese community, so I think that it is socially acceptable to string “Chinese” and “pig” next to each other.

Let me explain a little more, if you do not understand what I have just said. Many of us experience the phase every so often. Sometimes it is used as an ending to a sentence. For example, “Go back to China lah, you Chinese pig”. (‘Balik Cina lah, lu babi cina’).

To further illustrate my point, I shall share a true account of how my father ended up with those words hurled at him. It happened when my father corrected a bunch of Malay men in their mid 20s who were trailing and harassing two girls on the street at 4 p.m. last Friday afternoon.

‘Jangan kacau perempuan itu,’ (Don’t harass the girls.)

‘Ko sibuk sangat, buat apa? Aku bukan kacau ko! Aku kacau tu pompuan.' (Why are you meddling into my business? I am not harassing you. I am harassing those girls.)

‘Tak sopan kalau kacau mereka. Kalau nak kacau, kacau depan ayah mereka atau abang mereka.’ (It’s rude to harass the girls. If you want to tease, tease them in front of their fathers or brothers.)

‘Oi! Balik Cina lah, lu babi cina!’ (Oi! Go back to China, you Chinese pig!)

It does not matter if my father was defending (and to a certain extend, protecting) those girls. It does not matter if the boys were wrong or my father was right. I think my father’s teaching whiskers were prominently displayed, so the boys walked away after they were satisfied insulting my father. No one stepped forward to help either party, although there were many spectators that stood by the road to watch the exchange of words.

‘Babi' and 'Cina’ are two words almost synonymous with the Chinese community here in Malaysia. Ask any Chinese and if he is brave enough and is honest enough, he'll tell you that he had been called such. However don't ask him now because he will have to say something else. He is afraid that he might be thrown out of his beloved homeland. Nobody enjoys being thrown out of his house, so imagine how serious it is to be threatened to be thrown out of his homeland. Thus I hope you'll understand his little problem.

In secret, some Chinese adults might whisper to you that children who are not even 4 feet tall called them “chinese pigs” and/or asked them to return to China. For example, I might be called "babi cina" and then asked to "balik Cina lah!" for writing this article although I am born and raised here in Malaysia, am a good citizen and paid my taxes.

I don’t know who taught young impressionable children such crude words because I don’t think children innately address other human beings as Chinese pigs. Some older men, especially teachers like my father, would tell these kids off – “kurang ajar” (which means lack of manners). That does not seem to stop these children, who behave rudely and are truly kurang ajar. These fat little kids often shrug and walk off with their ais potong (ice lolly), unperturbed by everything, totally unremorseful of what they have said.




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So don’t worry if you wish to google for “Chinese” and “pig” because generally we, Chinese have been addressed as such at least once in our lifetime. You won’t find any of us picketing anywhere near your embassy because we are too busy earning money. Most of us have big hearts and larger pockets. We don’t mind sharing a certain percentage of our hard earned money. All we want is a peaceful country and we will shut our eyes to injustice and swallow resentment, just as long as our handbags get bigger and our cars get flashier.

It's logical conclusion, you see. If we were annoyed by the callous remark, we would have taken it to the streets. We would have protested and made sure that people around us know that it is offensive to the Chinese community. We would cooperatively make our voice heard through forums and discussions. We would write to the newspaper or do as I am doing, write something a little more positive, to bring about a healthy discussion about the state of our affairs. Alternatively we could vote in better representatives. But since none of the above has happened (other than my annual Merdeka post), it is safe to say that you can search for the words "Chinese" and "pig" in any search engine of your choice.

As for the Malays, I hope you will refrain from searching for the words “Malay pig” because they are not pigs and they find pigs offensive. Please show some more respect for them. Malaysians (generally) are a tolerant bunch and I hope that you are able to tolerate them too, despite being non-Malaysian. So remember to be a civic conscious netizen. Don't word search "Malay pig". The act is offensive to all of us.



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This is my Merdeka post and it carries many messages within its string of words. Happy Merdeka and may my homeland grow and prosper forever.

Should this article ever cause a stir in the Malaysian teacup, I know full well that some Chinese I know (with very thick gold chains) will nod his head and say I deserve to be punished if I wrote this article because I have insulted someone or something. Perhaps they will even use the most common trump card, which is to accuse anyone who disagree with them that he is inciting hatred. It has happened before, you see. But do not be quick to blame the Chinese if he prefers to shut his eyes to injustice, so that he could line his pocket thicker. He has paid a huge price.

People who cannot see the underlying message in this post might nod their heads and ask me to apologize for writing this post. These people have either sold their souls to profit their bank balance or they aren't quick minded to understand the message I am trying to convey. I strongly believe that intelligent people will recognize that I have no intention to insult anyone or anything. Smart and civilized folks will see what lies within myself is a passion for my country and a love for my people.

This post flowed from my burning heart. Young people who clamp up and do not voice their concerns are not helping our nation much. It is true what our nation’s founding fathers said. Freedom isn’t free. There is always sacrifice for something as precious as freedom and justice. My question is, "What have you done for your country today?"




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Related Links

• We Are 49 Years Old Now And What Have We Achieved?

~ Hey There Delilah, Plain White T's

I missed Alex and so two weeks ago, I had wanted to write him an email. How fortunate it was for me that Alex wrote before I did. And soon the emails flew back and forth between time and continents and here we are, two weeks later, chatting like old friends. Each email starts off offbeat and sunny, with greetings and sharing of news. Then like a roller coaster past its first peak point, the email will then tumble into a bloody tirade of emotions, tears and frustrations. It is safe to say, each email is a wordy mess.

We seem to be mourning for our relationship. Instead of the usual "I love you" endings we used to send each other, we now end our emails with "I have a hole in my heart that I know not how to fill". And then we feel a sense of great despair – a sense of loss that we don’t have any words for.

Thus far he had sent me some old photos of myself to remind me who I was when I first knew him. Most were photos taken in the summer, in his mother’s wall garden with beautiful flowers everywhere. We were both so exited and happy in those photos.

And now all we have are these…



We had wonderful conversations that seemed endless on these chairs. Their arms used to touch each other as Alex and I used to lean over to kiss and hug each other. Now these chairs represent all that is in our hearts – a sense of loneliness and lifelessness as the chairs grew apart.



Once I wrote a list of what I enjoyed with Alex. I know that I wrote the list because here is the photo of the note on which the list was written. That is my handwriting and it must have been written last summer. The list was short, consisting of only three items. I am sure that there were more to come, if only I had the time to write them all down.

And if I had to write them down now, I would add:

• The way Alex made me laugh. Eg: how he thinks that fat girls will love him best because ‘there is no love like a fat girl’s love’.


• Immaculate taste. I can trust the man to tell me how my bottom looks in anything. And Alex will tell the truth.


• Chasing each other up and down the stairs like a pair of kittens playing for fun.


• How we watched House and Scrubs in bed.


• How Alex fed an injured fox and managed to tame it enough to be his pet.


• Alex bought crates of tuna cans to prepare for the end of the world…

The list would go on forever and would include, ‘I rather tell people that we are breaking up because you want a baby. It makes everything sound more tragic and girls will want to date me.’ I never really understood his logic but I always loved his sense of humor.

This post has no ending, so I will end it with Alex's email for me today.



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I'm glad I made you laugh...

So many words said getting a smile from you. I enjoyed teasing you too much, delighted in that little squeal of indignation, seeing you huff puff, and then tickling you better. Almost the entire basis of our relationship...

I would like to be over there shopping for a house with you, using my inflated expat salary to live the life of luxury. Alas just fantasy for the moment. Five years time i will be doing it with some other girl, and you will have found what you wanted with someone else.

Makes me sad, still miss you everyday.



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Hey there Delilah
I know times are getting hard
But just believe me girl
Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar
We'll have it good
We'll have the life we knew we would
My word is good

Hey there Delilah
I've got so much left to say
If every simple song I wrote to you
Would take your breath away
I'd write it all
Even more in love with me you'd fall
We'd have it all
~ Hey There Delilah, Plain White T's

Today I’ve decided to talk about something other than emotional blahs. I think my mind needs to take a break. Actually my heart needs to take a break from all the thinking.

I find that time passes by very quickly. I don’t know whether it is because I have been immensely busy or if it’s because I am a little older now and older people feel that time passes by swiftly. Which is why they stop wasting time pursuing irrelevant things in life such as clubbing and shopping and decide to invest their time in baby farming.

I am not keen on baby farming at the moment, so I think I must still be quite young.



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If you are wondering what I receive in my mailbox, I will now tell you that I receive a decent number of emails from readers who want to ask me a question or two. Most of their questions are of their personal relationship. I don’t think I am a guru in this relationship business although I was described as a relationship and sex guru in a magazine recently.

I think most readers write because they feel a need to connect. They are compelled to share their stories, the very same way I am propelled to share some of mine. I sincerely think that many already know the answers. They just wanted to hear it from someone else. Just like how I know the answers to my questions and yet I seek for readers to empathise and love me.

So as you can see, you and I are not too different at all. I might even be brave enough to say that we are all sitting on the same boat. The only difference is our destinations, which might differ and for most of our lives, it will remain unknown. Which clearly makes living a really happening course of action to pursue. You don’t know which boat you are rocking.

And if for a moment you think that I am a whole lot chirpier in this post, I will have to agree with you. Somehow there are lots of things to celebrate at 6 p.m. after a good day at work.

But that is not the thing that I want to share with you today.



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The next question I often receive through my mailbox is my choice of books. Somehow many of you think that I must be very bookwormy since I want to be a writer. Quite a good deduction, I must say. However the deduction is quite untrue. I can never call myself a bookworm, mainly because I don’t consider myself to be one.

I enjoy reading quite a bit and when not buying books, I spend my spare time reading them. On any given day, I read a collection of two or more books. I mean, just look at my list of MiniBoyFriends. If I can keep a few at one time, you can be sure that I can juggle 3 books at a go. And true to form, I have 3 books by my bed stand at the moment.

Purchased on impulse a few months ago, I began reading Haruki Murakami’s collection of books – Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman being the first. If I have to choose one of them as a representation of myself, I would choose “A Folklore for My Generation: A Prehistory of Late-Stage Capitalism”. Somehow that particular story represents all that is in me. Other favorite stories include "The Kidney-Shaped Stone That Moves Every Day" and “A Shinagawa Monkey”.

You can imagine how I felt after I read that book. Oh my god, this is my guru. Oh yes, I found out that day that my book (when it is finally written) will be classified in the same category as Murakami’s. And Elliot Perlman, when I read his “The Reasons I Won’t Be Coming”. Honestly, won’t you want to know what the reason was? I was.




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I was stuck in traffic for the majority of Friday. I was in Clark at 12 noon, Makati at 3 p.m. and somewhere south of Manila at 7 p.m. It was quite a fascinating place, although I have been told to be extra careful when there. So I kept whatever little gold nuggets I had on before taking off at 7:20 a.m. to the Philippines.

Saw the smallest volcano, inactive of course. It was how I imagined it to be - a pristine ring of green in the middle of the sea. Something like a giant green donut, I guess. Then there were the locals, with their faces similar to the Malays here in Malaysia. ‘They are Malays too, just that they’ve migrated to the Philippines,’ said the locals. So the pretty Philippino Reah or Eia looked like the doe eyed Maya Karin from Malaysia.

So does this mean that the Philippino Reah gets special rights too? Seeing that she is afterall from the same bloodline as Maya Karin.




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'Excuse me. Are you Sandara Park?'

'Erm, no I am not.'

'You look like Sandara. She's a popular actress here in the Philippines.'

That strange conversation happened more than I could keep track. Almost every single local I spoke to told me that I looked like an actress loved by many Philippinos, Sandara Park. Some online articles described her as an actress without substance. So I guess Sandara is like the Korean version of Paris.

And thanks to the security guards manning the gated community where I stayed, many of its residents started to visit my host's house, waiting to see Sandara Park having BBQ dinner. If you have been asked more than a dozen times if you were someone else, you would be curious to find out how that person looks. So I googled for Sandara when I returned home and found a photo of Sandara.

I am sorry to inform you that I do not resemble Sandara Park. Not even on my best hair days.


There is some resemblance if
you squint your eyes a little....



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I have been thinking of Malaysia’s 50th year of independence. Specifically I have been thinking of what I am supposed to write. Several thoughts have been looping in my mind but I am still quite undecided. By now, you must have noticed that I have quite an opinion for almost anything under the sun and I have always some personal thoughts regarding the state of ‘we are not a secular state’ Malaysia.

I am also wondering how on earth are our universities going to compete with world class universities if we keep stuffing them full of people who are not qualified to be there in the first place.

I think I am quite colour blind. I think all poor people should be helped and I would be most happy to vote for the next politician who would offer true assistance to the needy. The last I have heard, the Indians are still living in derelict conditions in the rubber estates. I wished more could be done for the natives, who by definition, are the true prince of the land.




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Whatever happened to my MiniBoyFriends? I am mighty happy to say that I saw MiniBoyFriend R about 2 Saturdays ago. We went for a drink and he promised to have breakfast with me on Monday, which he did not. So if you are reading this, you should be feeling really guilty.

Actually, not. I think people grow up and move on. Just like last night when D called me up for a chat. He was bored. Yes, the manager of a rather swanky drinking hole was bored and he looked for me for supper. But I was already sitting in bed with my favourite Murakami book and was not too eager to jump out of bed, like I used to.

The short conversation made me think of very pleasant and colourful nights. It was approximately 4 years ago when we met up but it feels like it was ten years ago. Strange how we get up one day and just decide to do some other thing. Namely, I have decided to move on to other things in my life. I guess the moment we realise that we are quite mortal is the exact moment we grew up. We can't live on forever and we develop priorities in life. We give up some to get some other. I won't call it sacrifice. I think it's just how life is.

But I still like my shoes high and my clothes tight. That bit of me stays forever. So even MiniBoyFriends come and go but the bad girl stays forever.

Someone asked me if he could do a feature me in a local female magazine. Whilst a little tight on time, I found no harm in doing so. Gentlemen’s agreement, isn’t it so? Then I found out that he had replaced me with some other bloggers while I was stuck in a traffic jam from Clark to Manila.

All I can say is thank you for thinking of me in the first place. Sorry that it didn’t work out and that I didn’t answer those questions on time. It doesn’t matter. Some other opportunities would pop up again, I guess. Till then, this is the interview that was to be.



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Do you have what it takes?
You might notice that the template has changed. You might also notice that the banner isn't appearing at all. Can someone help me with this? I would appreciate a pretty banner for the above or just to help me stick my lousy design into the template. Thank you in advance.