Wednesday, 13 November 2013

Balcony Gardening in Penang

I know I haven’t posted anything for the longest time but it’s alright cos I guess this blogspot is more like my virtual playground to pen my stuff (from various sources).

Latest craze to hit my stubborn head is balcony gardening. Why do gardening at the balcony?
Well, cos I want to and I’m stubborn to prove that it’s indeed possible to plant plants at the condo balcony :-P
Call me crazy but I am in this mode to grow edible plants which I pursue with vigour unseen since my dwarf shrimp rearing days.. but that is another story altogether (I shall pen it one of these days).

To me, gardening is really rewarding as it gives you the “zen-like feeling” after you’ve toiled the soil and watch them grow. I’m not joking.
The satisfaction compounded many-fold when you’re able to reap the produce after staring at it day-in day-out (yes, that’s what I do).
It is also due to the fact that I can’t get sufficient info from the www on balcony gardening, herbs in tropical climates, insecticidal soap, edible plants in tropics and etc that prompted me to delve deeper into this hobby and present them from Malaysian (tropical weather) point of view.

My agenda will be as follow:
1. List out plants – DONE
2. Homebrewed miticide/insecticide concoction (I don’t exactly brewed the concoction, I just mixed them up like a certified club mixer :-P)
3. Bugs and how I kill them (or rather they defeated me)
4. Support/stakes, soil, fertiliser
5. Others

If you’ve read this far, thank you for your patience.
Perhaps I should start by listing out plants which I’ve grown (and discarded :-P) and plants which survived my evil experiments… nyek nyek nyek…

Growing (and still growing)
1. Spanish moss
2. Strawberries (I still have 4 healthy plants which I kept for experimental purpose)
3. Pencil pine
4. Sage – grown from seed
5. Rosemary
6. Sweet majoram – grown from seed
7. Baby carrot – grown from seed
8. Kaempferia galangal
9. Fernleaf dill
10. Coriander – grown from seed
11. Italian parsley
12. Chives
13. Indian borage
14. Peppermint
15. Spearmint
16. Aloe vera
17. Sweet basil
18. Oregano
19. Thyme
20. Cape gooseberries – grown from seed
21. Thai chili
22. Kaffir lime
23. Wild betel leaves
24. Cherry tomatoes – grown from seed
25. Tangerine lime hybrid
26. Staurogyne repens – it is actually an aquatic plant
27. Calamansi lime
28. Pandan (screwpine leaves) – from a reputable stock J
29. Nepenthes (monkey cup)
30. Gypsophila (Garden Bride) flower – grown from seed

Trying to grow
1. Broccoli – from seed
2. Cosmos bipinnatus flower – from seed

Grown (and discarded)
1. Buddhist yew – discarded due to mealybug infestation
2. Pandan (also known as screwpine leaves) – discarded due to mealybug infestation
3. Strawberries – discarded due to red spidermite infestation
4. Roselle plant – discarded due to mealybug and soil nematodes infestation
5. Grape plant – discarded due to spidermite infestation

Died (it simply died; most likely due to heat shock)
1. Chervil
2. Applemint

Thursday, 26 September 2013

Short stories (draft)

The aircon hummed in low decibel, constant and unnoticeable by the throng of people rushing to and fro the whole walkway. He tried to concentrate on the clean and sterile looking floor, devoid of spots.

 

With trepidation I waited for the news and strange as it may seem (or cruel), I heaved a sigh of relieve that the “chosen” one is not me.

 

I know it is dog-eat-dog world but to see 3 longer serving person getting axed while I remain gave me the sense of non-enjoyable happiness.

 

I’m feeling weird now… blur and weird.. and I’m shivering (not due to the cold).

 

 

The hustle and bustle in the cabin interrupted his thoughts. Upping the volume of his mp3 player, he sunk deeper into his seat, cradling the book he reads closer to his chest as he pondered on the hours earlier when he stepped on the flight with light footed steps.

 

As the songs directory shuffled itself automatically, he heard a familiar tune. A tune which grabbed his attention the moment his ears heard it. It brought him a momentary sense of tranquility despite the din, his book is all but forgotten.

 

Smile appeared on his weary face as he shifted his thoughts on the welcoming sight of his loved ones back home. It never fail to bring tears to his eyes whenever such thoughts crossed his mind. He, a man considered to be the pillar of strength brought down and mellowed with such emotional effect?

 

Closing his eyes, patiently he waits, and he played the song repeatedly. Thoughts firmly on the smiling face with that pretty eyes of hers. Sleep overcame him with ease despite the uncomfortable surroundings.

 

Suddenly he is jolted from his slumber with the bump on the plane landing and patiently he waited until it came to a screeching halt. 

Wednesday, 17 July 2013

In caram memoriam...

In loving memory of Papa. 717.

The timing of death, like the ending of a story, gives a changed meaning to what preceded it
-=Mary Catherine Bateson=-



Friday, 28 June 2013

The Last Touch

“Aarrrggghh… Papa!!.. Papa…!!” I shouted from the back of the house. My voice drowned by the volume of the TV at the front showing some classical Chinese show.

“What is it?” asked Papa while walking slowly towards me, clearly annoyed with the unwelcomed interruption.

“Papa, you’ve ruined my new pants with the amount of bleach you poured in. Look at the white mark on this particular spot.” I pointed accusingly to my freshly washed pants.

“Aiyah, no problem what! Who would notice that small spot when viewed from afar?” Papa countered my argument with his nonchalant air, slowly hobbling towards the kitchen.

I gave a deep sigh and resigned to the fact that all Papa wanted to do was to help clean my pants.
I looked around the old house I grew up in. It looks old but neat and tidy. The air of familial comfort seeps from every nook and cranny. I swear I can walk around the house blindfolded, knowing every details; chipped stones, paint on the wall, missing tiles, squeaking floorboards and such with unbiased clarity.
I took a deep breath and looked at my Papa. The old man is still strong despite his advanced age. I smiled and I went to hug him from behind and playfully tapped his seemingly bloated tummy. We both laughed and I cheerfully took his mug from him.
“I bought your favourite ice kacang lah Papa. It’s in the fridge. Let me pour it for you.” I smiled as I walked towards the fridge.
“Are you sure I can finish it all alone? Ask Mama to join us lah. Then when we drink each other’s saliva, we will have similar facial features.” said Papa while smiling broadly.
I jerked up all the sudden from the midday reverie. Comfort of the old house faded and replaced by a whitewashed room. Blades of the fan spin slowly on its axis, dispensing warm breeze on a hot and humid night. 

Faintly but surely, I hear the soft breathing, laborious with every breath. My heart felt the pain.

My hand caressed the shoulder; the strong shoulder that used to carry me high up, so that I can reach and pluck the low hanging mangoes. The skin now dry and tout, worn with age and disease. 
My own eyes moisten as I see him struggle to form his sentences, asking me about my work and to take good care of myself. 

I crave to listen to his deep voice dispensing words of care and wisdom, or of him scolding me when I misbehave.
I held his hands close to my heart and tap his tummy, all I can feel is his protruding ribcage and hardened liver. His body a shell now, devoid of strong muscles and fats that I used to hug and play with. 

I moved my palms, one to his heart, another caressing his sparse grey hair, then gently cupping his face, feeling the bone under his skin, far cry from his usual form. 
Telling him not to worry about anything, to rest and relax. Constantly reminding him to take his meal no matter how little the portion is. How helpless I felt when he turned to me with a small smile on his face and those gentle eyes looking straight at me as I offer words of comfort. 

Then and only then, as I opened my mouth to utter that I love him so very much, barely a whisper, I felt as if I have pits lodged in my throat, as if I have exhaled my last breath and my lungs are devoid of air. The pain and emotion contained within the void of my chest, in each alveolus of my lungs.

The word love seems odd in thoughts but when I uttered it to him, it came out naturally. I braved myself and told him that I love him, louder this time. Unsure if he heard me the first time. 

He kept quiet, closed his eyes, and I saw tears trickle down the corner of his eyes. 
My eyes began to water, blurring my view. I don't care anymore. I grasped his hand in mine as I told him again and again that I have always loved him. That it's the foolish sense of male ego that prevented me from saying it to him before all these. 

I wished all the wishes that made my heart ache. Most of the wishes are impossible now but I can’t bear to part with Papa, not just yet.  

He kept his silence. And then, he gave me that slight nod, acknowledging my tirade of emotional outburst, slowly tapping the back of my head. I needed that. I crave for that. 

Papa, I love you...

Source: ImageShack.us

Thursday, 16 May 2013

The Star newspaper - Open letter - Reply to your article: What next for Chinese parties?

As we all know, GE13's tsunami is nothing short of spectacular notwithstanding the fervour from the fellow rakyat up until now. However, your articles post-GE13 leaves much to be desired particularly on the topic which relates to the Chinese community. 
I'm not sure if you feign ignorance over this tsunami but this wave of dissatisfaction is not solely due to the Chinese community. Thus, I am perplexed on the reason that you, being a Malaysian journalist and a Chinese, did not articulate on the issues at large but merely focusing on the "who-to-blame" game.
I do know and I strongly believe that the tide of GE13 is akin to the tip of an iceberg. But your articles are plain to say the least, unlike those written by Kee Thuan Chye (which ring true post-GE12 and even today); which I oblige to paste here for your info and reading pleasure.
In case you're wondering, a bi-partisan reporter will always strive to strike a balance between pro and anti-sentiment. 
Thus, please be more sensitive when you're touching on things that might elicit racial polarisation because after all, we are Malaysian first, Chinese second.
Thank you for spending your precious time to read my thoughts.

Ciplak
Sent on: 16 May 2013

 
What the Chinese Want
By Kee Thuan Chye
Free Malaysia Today, May 2, 2010
 
EVERY time Barisan Nasional gets less than the expected support from Chinese voters at an election, the question invariably pops up among the petty-minded: Why are the Chinese ungrateful?  
So now, after the Hulu Selangor by-election, it’s not surprising to read in Utusan Malaysia a piece that asks: “Orang Cina Malaysia , apa lagi yang anda mahu?” (Chinese Malaysians, what more do you want?)
Normally, something intentionally provocative and propagandistic as this doesn’t deserve to be honoured with a reply. But even though I’m fed up of such disruptive and ethnocentric polemics, this time I feel obliged to reply – partly because the article has also been published, in an English translation, in the Straits Times of Singapore .
I wish to emphasise here that I am replying not as a Chinese Malaysian but, simply, as a Malaysian.
Let me say at the outset that the Chinese have got nothing more than what any citizen should get. So to ask “what more” it is they want, is misguided. A correct question would be “What do the Chinese want?”
All their lives, the Chinese have held to the belief that no one owes them a living. They have to work for it. Most of them have got where they are by the sweat of their brow, not by handouts or the policies of the Government.
They have come to expect nothing – not awards, not accolades, not gifts from official sources. (Let’s not lump in Datukships, that’s a different ball game.) They know that no Chinese who writes in the Chinese language will ever be bestowed the title of Sasterawan Negara, unlike in Singapore where the literatures of all the main language streams are recognised and honoured with the Cultural Medallion, etc.
The Chinese have learned they cannot expect the Government to grant them scholarships. Some will get those, but countless others won’t. They’ve learned to live with that and to work extra hard in order to support their children to attain higher education – because education is very important to them. They experience a lot of daily pressure to achieve that. Unfortunately, not many non-Chinese realise or understand that. In fact, many Chinese had no choice but to emigrate for the sake of their children’s further education. Or to accept scholarships from abroad, many from Singapore , which has inevitably led to a brain drain.
The writer of the Utusan article says the Chinese “account for most of the students” enrolled in “the best private colleges in Malaysia ”. Even so, the Chinese still have to pay a lot of money to have their children study in these colleges. And to earn that money, the parents have to work very hard. The money does not fall from the sky.
The writer goes on to add: “The Malays can gain admission into only government-owned colleges of ordinary reputation.” That is utter nonsense. Some of these colleges are meant for the cream of the Malay crop of students and are endowed with the best facilities. They are given elite treatment.
The writer also fails to acknowledge that the Chinese are barred from being admitted to some of these colleges. As a result, the Chinese are forced to pay the exorbitant fees to attend private colleges. Furthermore, the Malays are also welcome to enrol in the private colleges, and many of them do. It’s, after all, a free enterprise.
The writer claims that the Chinese live “in the lap of luxury” and lead lives that are “more than ordinary” whereas the Malays in Singapore , their minority-race counterparts there, lead “ordinary lives”. Such sweeping statements sound inane especially when they are not backed up by definitions of “lap of luxury” and “ordinary lives”. They sound hysterical, if not hilarious as well, when they are not backed up by evidence. It’s surprising that a national daily like Utusan Malaysia would publish something as idiosyncratic as that. And the Straits Times too.
The writer quotes from a survey that said eight of the 10 richest people in Malaysia are Chinese. Well, if these people are where they are, it must have also come from hard work and prudent business sense. Is that something to be faulted?
If the writer had said that some of them achieved greater wealth through being given crony privileges and lucrative contracts by the Government, there might be a point, but even then, it would still take hard work and business acumen to secure such phenomenal success. Certainly, Syed Mokhtar Al-Bukhary, who is one of the 10, would take exception if it were said that he has not worked hard and lacks business savvy.
Most important, it should be noted that the eight Chinese tycoons mentioned in the survey represent but a minuscule percentage of the wider Chinese Malaysian population. To extrapolate that because eight Chinese are filthy rich, the rest of the Chinese must therefore live in the lap of luxury and lead more than ordinary lives would be a mockery of the truth. The writer has obviously not met the vast numbers of very poor Chinese. Even the middle-class ones don’t enjoy luxury when so much of what they earn go towards their children’s education.
The crux of the writer’s article is that the Chinese are not grateful to the Government by not voting for Barisan Nasional at the Hulu Selangor by-election. But this demonstrates the thinking of either a simple mind or a closed one.
Why did the Chinese by and large not vote for BN? Because it’s corrupt. Plain and simple. Let’s call a spade a spade. And BN showed how corrupt it was during the campaign by throwing bribes to the electorate, including promising RM3 million to the Chinese school in Rasa.
The Chinese were not alone in seeing this corruption. The figures are unofficial but one could assume that at least 40 per cent of Malays and 45 per cent of Indians who voted against BN in that by-election also had their eyes open.
So, what’s wrong with not supporting a government that is corrupt? If the government is corrupt, do we continue to support it?
To answer the question then, what do the Chinese want? They want a government that is not corrupt; that can govern well and proves to have done so; that tells the truth rather than lies; that follows the rule of law; that upholds rather than abuses the country’s sacred institutions. BN does not fit that description, so the Chinese don’t vote for it. This is not what only the Chinese want. It is something every sensible Malaysian, regardless of race, wants. Is that something that is too difficult to understand
Some people think that the Government is to be equated with the country, and therefore if someone does not support the Government, they are being disloyal to the country. This is a complete fallacy. BN is not Malaysia . It is merely a political coalition that is the government of the day. Rejecting BN is not rejecting the country.
Let’s be clear about this important distinction. In America , the people sometimes vote for the Democrats and sometimes for the Republicans. Voting against the one that is in government at the time is not considered disloyalty to the country.
By the same token, voting against Umno is also voting against a party, not against a race. And if the Chinese or whoever criticise Umno, they are criticising the party; they are not criticising Malays. It just happens that Umno’s leaders are Malay. 
It is time all Malaysians realised this so that we can once and for all dispel the confusion. Let us no more confuse country with government. We can love our country and at the same time hate the Government. It is perfectly all right.
I should add here what the Chinese don’t want. They don’t want to be insulted, to be called pendatang, or told to be grateful for their citizenship. They have been loyal citizens; they duly and dutifully pay taxes; they respect the country’s Constitution and its institutions. Their forefathers came to this country generations ago and helped it to prosper. They continue to contribute to the country’s growth and development.
Would anyone like to be disparaged, made to feel unwelcome, unwanted? For the benefit of the writer of the Utusan article, what MCA president Chua Soi Lek means when he says the MCA needs to be more vocal is that it needs to speak up whenever the Chinese community is disparaged. For too long, the MCA has not spoken up strongly enough when Umno politicians and associates like Ahmad Ismail, Nasir Safar, Ahmad Noh and others before them insulted the Chinese and made them feel like they don’t belong. That’s why the Chinese have largely rejected the MCA.
You see, the Chinese, like all human beings, want self-respect. And a sense of belonging in this country they call home. That is all the Chinese want, and have always wanted. Nothing more.

Wednesday, 13 February 2013

The Longest Chat

The room is clean. Aircon is at its full blast but I am not cold. There is no spare bed except for a lazy chair by the side; yet I don't complain. For this is the moment when the chat is the longest and yet, strange as it seems, it is the most fulfilling ever.

What did we chat about? Hmmm... we chatted about everything but nothing. How's my work he would ask. I would say it's as apolitical and yet it is highly political. No point making others worry about you particularly the one you love the most.

How about politics? Will ruling or opposition win this time? There are rumours swirling around but none is certain. Perhaps we can see to it together when the time comes. Perhaps perhaps. It would be great don't you think? We can then vote together.

Oh! Do you still remember the Romance of the Three Kingdoms? You enthralled me with layers upon layers of those historical tales. I still remember hearing those stories as you fed me years ago. My mouth went "O" as you kept me on the cliff-hanger and will continue only when I dutifully swallowed my food.

I spoke to you as I kept running my fingers through your sparse, grey hair. Emotions chocked and brimming at the seams. Do you know that I love you so very much? How can a man tell that to another man without shame; oh, that shame of man-love. Or should I put that as egoistic feel of not confiding when the time is ripe and now?

Look at the time, its almost 6am. Can you believe that we've chatted for more than 7 hours now? Go to rest now papa. Do you want to have anything to drink or eat before you sleep? Don't worry papa, Chinese New Year is nothing without you. Just rest and don't worry about anything else ok?

I covered him carefully and tapped him to sleep.
Sitting uncomfortably at his side, never once complaining because this is the longest chat ever. As the antiseptic smelling, sterile looking room quietened down, I kept my vigil. I kept hoping against hope that there will be more such days to come. But alas, fate dealt a different hand. Never before, and never ever again will I have the chance to have such long heartfelt talk again. Chinese New Year will never feel the same.






Tuesday, 22 January 2013

Life of Pi by Yann Martel

I still remember that particular day, years and years ago (yes, it has been published that long ago ladies and gentlemen) as I sat forlorn in the almost sterile waiting lounge of an international airport, hearing the constant “ting tong.. ting tong.. ting tong” of the moving escalator warning its users of the potential clipped toenails and stuck fingers within the meshes moving metals.
What can a person do to keep himself sane in an era when the most interactive thing that a mobile phone can do is to play moving snakes on dot matrix screen the size of my thumb? READING of course :-)

So, I digged (btw, why is digged shown as error in the auto spell check?) deep into my backpack and rummaged around for something resembling alphabets, formed into legible sentences, linked into paragraphs and bounded into something called book.
Lo and behold, I found a book entitled “Life of Pi by Yann Martel” and I smiled with that triumphant crazy smile (I’ll tell the reason later.. if I can still remember what I wrote up here).

PS#1: Just to note that I haven’t watched the movie adaptation of this book as I have phobia whenever some smart Alec producer wakes up and say.. “we should make this book into a movie”.

So, without further ado, let me recap what I remember about this book.
It’s about a boy named Piscine Molitor "Pi" Patel from Pondicherry who grew up amidst the zoo-owning family.
I can’t remember the exact sequence of the book but all I remember is that I laughed LIKE MAD (gathering stares from other air travelers and hot steward/stewardess) when he tried to teach his school mates to pronounce his name correctly.

One fine day, his family had some run-ins with the local law, sold off the animals and embark on a one way trip to Canada.
During this trip, disaster struck, the ship sank with everything and everyone (including Pi’s family) except a hyena, zebra, orangutan and a tiger; which hid itself under the tarpaulin; beats me why that tiger is smarter than the hyena or orangutan. :-P

Drifting in open sea, the hyena goes crazy (what else can a hyena on a boat do right?), kills the zebra, gets bored, then kills the orangutan but surprisingly didn’t kill Pi.

Then the tiger came out from the tarpaulin and roared/said, “HYENA!! Enough of this stupid carnage or I’ll kill you!!”; and then killed the hyena nonetheless but spare Pi… AGAIN… ok, I made this whole sequence up :-P

Then tiger and Pi drifted together where they stumbled upon floating carnivorous algae island and escaped and then drifted again until the boat washed up at the coast of Mexico where the tiger jumped out of the ship and away from Pi.

I wouldn’t want to bore the readers to death but I laughed like crazy when I read the interview part with the Japanese Ministry of Transport official…. this time on the flight :-P, so imagine the horror of the fellow air travelers thinking that they’re sitting with a confirmed nutcase.

NOTE: I love the part when Pi stole all the sandwiches and stuffed it into his pocket as he spoke to the interviewers.

Anyway, that’s the book review “lah”… hope it’s not as dry as dry martinis, on the rock, shaken, not stirred. :-)

PS#2: No such phobia as book into movie adaptation :-S

Deep in thoughts (Education and such)

Of late, there are some ripples (or sometimes more like waves) within the working community with regards to the gaps in talent pool versus the demand in our industries (every industries in this aspect).

Below are my cheap 2 cents on these issues, which are directly linked to the very foundation of our education system; which in my opinion, presented itself as a systemic and holistic error (I wouldn’t go as far as ‘mistake” per se) instead of localized or process error.

1) Revamp the whole education system. Bring back internationally certified education system such as O and A-level certification and make English language the core must pass language.

2) Make sure that all universities (public or private) are in touch with reality when designing their course structure. They must be constantly updated with latest technology or knowledge in line with market demands.

3) Talent pool must be retained from within and not imported/lured from outside. Case in point; why should we train someone for 11 years only to see them conveniently “lured” by foreign scholarships due to biasness in the system? Meritocracy at best perhaps?

4) Impartiality from industries itself. Make every employer sign up for "equal employment opportunity" company. Not only in writing but in practice as well.

5) HR monitoring watchdog to ensure compliance to HR tenets of impartiality and non-partisan way of working to ensure that all employees and to certain extent, the employers are protected under the law; federal or local.

I wish I can list out more but it would be like a dog barking at Himalaya mountain range.
Not because of the potential snow avalanche but hermits, sages, old wise men/women and even Yeti might sue the barking dog for disturbing their peace in this politically correct world. :-P
Peace and out!