A Gift of Inclusion: ISKUL
1 day ago
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
That Okay Song - from That Effing Show
A wonderful song to celebrate our Malaysia for 47 years old
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Is Malaysia getting you down? Tired of those traffic jams and flash floods? Tired of listening to those same old talking heads and their slogans? Feeling like you want to just throw in the towel and give up?
Well we at That Effing Show have something to say. That it's all fine. That its okay. Kita sudah kautim. Paravaillay.
Because we are the world. We are the children. We are the all singing all dancing machas. And we're back. This time, we have horns! We have trumpets! We are higher and fi-er than ever before. Heck, we even scored ourselves a special musical guest star. Check it.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Is Malaysia getting you down? Tired of those traffic jams and flash floods? Tired of listening to those same old talking heads and their slogans? Feeling like you want to just throw in the towel and give up?
Well we at That Effing Show have something to say. That it's all fine. That its okay. Kita sudah kautim. Paravaillay.
Because we are the world. We are the children. We are the all singing all dancing machas. And we're back. This time, we have horns! We have trumpets! We are higher and fi-er than ever before. Heck, we even scored ourselves a special musical guest star. Check it.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Can We Start Over? Or is all lost?
A very well written piece from a truly Anak Bangsa Malaysia as we celebrate Hari Malaysia on 16th September for the first time in history.
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The nation called ‘Malaysia’ became a reality on 16th September, 1963 but for 46 years its birth was celebrated on 31st August, a date memorable to the Peninsula but without any meaning whatsoever for Sabah and Sarawak.
How did that happen?
I was in Form 4 in 1963 and not at all politically conscious. What I understood at that time about the steps leading to the formation of Malaysia came not from reading the newspaper ( my favourite page was the comics ) but from listening to adult conversations - Brunei first planning to come in but then opting out, Singapore, Sabah, Sarawak willing to go the distance, Cobbold Commission, referendum etc.
From all the talk around me, I learnt that the Tunku was pursuing and pushing for all brokering to be settled, so that this ‘new’ nation Malaysia could be born on 31st August too.
But it was not to be. Disagreements brought delays and the Tunku’s dream was fulfilled only 16 days later.
Much as I dearly love the Tunku and always will, I question why no recognition was given to 16th September during his tenure.
Only this year, 47 years later, are we collectively as a nation giving that date its due prominence in history.
Looking back, in a sense Malaysia never had a chance to live and take its baby steps. There was no 1st Anniversary, no 2nd, no 3rd ….
But anniversaries are just a once-a-year thing. Worse than the date distortion is Malaysia’s being robbed of her destiny as a nation embracing a diversity of people and cultures.
We could have been a showcase to the world of what decency and love are about. But we are not.
You see, love means relationship and being decent means being fair. That would have meant reaching out across the seas to our brothers and sisters in Sabah and Sarawak in true friendship, giving without expecting returns, defending their rights and homeland because it is the right thing do, especially for family.
But we did not.
We never took the trouble to reach out and touch the hearts of Sabah and Sarawak. We treated them merely as curious touristy places and never felt their heartbeat, never knew their disappointments, never recognised the betrayal they suffered, never heeded the lonely cries for help.
Any wonder then that our country has a fragmented soul? Any wonder then that we have never truly been one in heart and spirit?
And we stayed so blinded, so wrapped up in our own needs and wants that we never knew the concept ‘Malaysia’ had taken on a distorted form and that agreements had not been honoured.
We stayed that way until now – 47 years on.
Here we are, finally realizing the horror contained in those years, outraged at the plunder and for the first time determined to make amends.
Sabah and Sarawak, much as the mainstream media may lie to you, we the ordinary rakyat here in the Peninsula are not celebrating Hari Malaysia in the sense of accomplishment and achievement. There is nothing to shout about. And much to be ashamed of.
What we will be doing on the night of 15th September and on 16th September is confirm once again the greed and corruption of leaders from here and the complicity of the leaders over there that led to the plunder of wealth both where you are and here, the deprivation of your rights and ours, and the untold suffering everywhere.
You have been duped and so have we.
These will be days of sobriety and for the voice of justice. These will be days when we see the betrayal in all its ugliness and acknowledge that a colonial master emerged in our midst who is of us and far, far worse than the British who left.
These must be days for reflection and repentance for we too, all of us over here and all of you where you are, have been guilty of letting this happen - by our very silence, because of our fear.
The important question is: Is all lost?
No.
Why not?
Because, for the first time, we have decided collectively to recognize nationhood on its true date of birth.
And because we have begun the steps to live the truth, the lie and all it stands for will be displaced and so too all men whose tongues are forked.
There is an ongoing cleansing of this nation that the government is too blind to recognize. Its misdeeds of the past, so long hidden, are being uncovered time and again against its will.
For me, justice will prevail because the misdeeds could still be hidden but they aren’t any longer.
There is a passing of the old and we need to leave the past behind to move ahead.
But how?
We, the rakyat, must learn to trust one another again and to reach out and help.
Not easy when so many hurts abound? Yes, but the choice is ours to take the risk.
It makes us vulnerable.
Yes, but someone once said that if you want something you have never had before, you must do something you have never done before.
We over here want the best for you.
So on behalf of the thousands over here, I ask for your forgiveness.
I ask that you forgive us our negligence of you, our never really embracing you as family, our keeping quiet as political leaders violated your trust and robbed you of your inheritance, your rights and your riches.
On behalf of the Peninsula, I ask for forgiveness and hope you will forgive because that very act of forgiveness on your part will give you peace and set you free to live again in the fullness for which you came into being.
So let the healing begin.
Much love.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The nation called ‘Malaysia’ became a reality on 16th September, 1963 but for 46 years its birth was celebrated on 31st August, a date memorable to the Peninsula but without any meaning whatsoever for Sabah and Sarawak.
How did that happen?
I was in Form 4 in 1963 and not at all politically conscious. What I understood at that time about the steps leading to the formation of Malaysia came not from reading the newspaper ( my favourite page was the comics ) but from listening to adult conversations - Brunei first planning to come in but then opting out, Singapore, Sabah, Sarawak willing to go the distance, Cobbold Commission, referendum etc.
From all the talk around me, I learnt that the Tunku was pursuing and pushing for all brokering to be settled, so that this ‘new’ nation Malaysia could be born on 31st August too.
But it was not to be. Disagreements brought delays and the Tunku’s dream was fulfilled only 16 days later.
Much as I dearly love the Tunku and always will, I question why no recognition was given to 16th September during his tenure.
Only this year, 47 years later, are we collectively as a nation giving that date its due prominence in history.
Looking back, in a sense Malaysia never had a chance to live and take its baby steps. There was no 1st Anniversary, no 2nd, no 3rd ….
But anniversaries are just a once-a-year thing. Worse than the date distortion is Malaysia’s being robbed of her destiny as a nation embracing a diversity of people and cultures.
We could have been a showcase to the world of what decency and love are about. But we are not.
You see, love means relationship and being decent means being fair. That would have meant reaching out across the seas to our brothers and sisters in Sabah and Sarawak in true friendship, giving without expecting returns, defending their rights and homeland because it is the right thing do, especially for family.
But we did not.
We never took the trouble to reach out and touch the hearts of Sabah and Sarawak. We treated them merely as curious touristy places and never felt their heartbeat, never knew their disappointments, never recognised the betrayal they suffered, never heeded the lonely cries for help.
Any wonder then that our country has a fragmented soul? Any wonder then that we have never truly been one in heart and spirit?
And we stayed so blinded, so wrapped up in our own needs and wants that we never knew the concept ‘Malaysia’ had taken on a distorted form and that agreements had not been honoured.
We stayed that way until now – 47 years on.
Here we are, finally realizing the horror contained in those years, outraged at the plunder and for the first time determined to make amends.
Sabah and Sarawak, much as the mainstream media may lie to you, we the ordinary rakyat here in the Peninsula are not celebrating Hari Malaysia in the sense of accomplishment and achievement. There is nothing to shout about. And much to be ashamed of.
What we will be doing on the night of 15th September and on 16th September is confirm once again the greed and corruption of leaders from here and the complicity of the leaders over there that led to the plunder of wealth both where you are and here, the deprivation of your rights and ours, and the untold suffering everywhere.
You have been duped and so have we.
These will be days of sobriety and for the voice of justice. These will be days when we see the betrayal in all its ugliness and acknowledge that a colonial master emerged in our midst who is of us and far, far worse than the British who left.
These must be days for reflection and repentance for we too, all of us over here and all of you where you are, have been guilty of letting this happen - by our very silence, because of our fear.
The important question is: Is all lost?
No.
Why not?
Because, for the first time, we have decided collectively to recognize nationhood on its true date of birth.
And because we have begun the steps to live the truth, the lie and all it stands for will be displaced and so too all men whose tongues are forked.
There is an ongoing cleansing of this nation that the government is too blind to recognize. Its misdeeds of the past, so long hidden, are being uncovered time and again against its will.
For me, justice will prevail because the misdeeds could still be hidden but they aren’t any longer.
There is a passing of the old and we need to leave the past behind to move ahead.
But how?
We, the rakyat, must learn to trust one another again and to reach out and help.
Not easy when so many hurts abound? Yes, but the choice is ours to take the risk.
It makes us vulnerable.
Yes, but someone once said that if you want something you have never had before, you must do something you have never done before.
We over here want the best for you.
So on behalf of the thousands over here, I ask for your forgiveness.
I ask that you forgive us our negligence of you, our never really embracing you as family, our keeping quiet as political leaders violated your trust and robbed you of your inheritance, your rights and your riches.
On behalf of the Peninsula, I ask for forgiveness and hope you will forgive because that very act of forgiveness on your part will give you peace and set you free to live again in the fullness for which you came into being.
So let the healing begin.
Much love.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
May 13 - A Recollection
Mom was 16. They were staying at Cheras Batu 2 1/2, near the legendary field which produce Mokthar Dahari and near Cochrane Road School, which is where DBKL built a hall along Jalan Loke Yew. Grandpa decided not to open his stall at Central Market that day. The situation was tense from what was being heard in KL due to the massive win of the Democratic Action Party. Rumours were spreading that the Malays were going to attack the Chinese. Everyone was scared.
Grandpa and grandma quicklty packed up some food in case they need to make a run and gathered everyone. They all sat quietly waiting at furthest back of the tiny little wooden house, at the back of the kitchen. Grandpa took a radio to the kitchen, to listen to any news on what is happening outside.
No one dared venture outside. The usually lively squatters was extremely quiet that day. Then a few knocks on the door...everyone was quiet and dared not answer...then a few knocks again...and a few knocks again...then someone called my grandpa's name softly..."Ah Chong...Ah Chong...are you inside??" I took another few more calling before my grandpa opened the door, only after he was sure that it was the youngster from the sundry shop.
They continued their conversations in front of the house, whispering to each other. Then he came to the kitchen and gathered everyone. They walked out of the house and quickly hurried themselves to the wood-processing factory nearby.
Along the way to the factory, mom and family was accompanied by some young Chinese. They were the gangsters at the squatters, some with scars on their hands, some with tattoos. Each on of them were holding a parang, some samurais and others metal rods.
Upon reaching, they were led to the wooden planks stores and were told to hide there. There were also a few other neighbours there. Everyone look frightened, not knowing what is happening outside. After some whispers here and there, mom found out that some other neighbours have gone to Chan Sow Lin and were also hiding at some factories.
Before the Chinese youngsters left, a few more youngsters came and grab some more parangs, samurais and metal rods from the store, hidden among the planks of woods. Mom took a peep saw a huge load of weapons hidden in between.
Then someone called out in Malay...everyone panicked, thinking that they were ambushed...everyone kept quiet..after a long wait, Grandpa whisper "Don't worry, he is Pak Mat, he and a few others will help guard around the squatters". The day went by and soon night fall. That night, mom heard on radio where emergency was declared by Tunku Abdul Rahman.
Mom heard from one of the neighbours that a massive blood shed had broke out at Tai Wa cinema (old Cathay cinema along Jalan Pudu, now an empty lot with a bus station). There were scores of people inside the cinema, watching a just up-on-the-screen new movie. Suddenly, they were attacked and a lot were dead. They couldn't escape.
Some of the Chinese gangsters who were around just managed to gather some people, withhold them and fought them off, trying to save as many people as possible. There were also some Malays locals around who helped out, trying to pull away people and hide them around, under the drain, inside shops, anywhere, anywhere they can. The slashing soon backed off and moved back towards Puduraya. Mom also heard that many Malays were also hurt.
Mom's tears flowed down her cheek. Til today no one know how many were sacrificed.
The FRUs arrived shortly, trying to help as much as possible. Apparently, the FRUs were also up in arms against the Police as well, as during that time, the FRUs were made up of mainly Chinese while the Police were Malays. The FRUs soon rounded up some Chinese gangsters and instructed them to help stand guard around their villages.
The FRUs helped manned the main roads leading to the villages. Some Malays volunteered to help, manning the intersections into the villages together with the Chinese gangsters and patrol around at night.
Throughout the night, there were some noises outside the factory and around the squatters. Footsteps of people running around quickly. Rays of torch lights occasionally seen blared into the factory. However, no untowards incident happened. Everyone stayed at the factory for a few days, with the Chinese and Malay youngsters taking turns to bring food to the factory and taking turns patrolling. It was only after the Soldiers came that everyone dared go back to their houses. And everyone was glad that nothing untowards happened to any of the villagers in the squatters.
It was an unforgettable day in Malaysia history. And with that incident shaped the path of our society today.
I could not understand her feelings, everytime she told me her stories of May 13. I can just imagined how bad it was and how it has traumatized my family and the rest of the Chinese society from that era.
And not too long ago, I do had a near encounter of the feeling of some sort, if not entirely similar. It was 8 March 2008. We were back at the nerve centre, to hand in the results from the polling centre I was taking charge of, and it was a win from the school. On the way back, my friend called and said that Khalid has won Bandar Tun Razak. I was jumping.
I was even more estatic when unofficial results started to flow in and more schools were reporting majority wins. It was not what we expected, as we expected a tough fight. Soon calls started to flow in, we have won most seats in KL and Selangor is looking good, very good....
Crowds outside were celebrating, shouts can be heard. We quickly gathered some people and ask them to tone down, fearing any untowards incident. And coincidentally, the nerve centre was also in Pudu, behind the old Tai Wa cinema. Creepy.
Shortly we head to the nomination centre, waiting anxiously for the polling officer to annouce the results. We knew we have nailed it and were just waiting for the official results. Then my phone rang, my friend from Penang called. He told "Tsu Koon lost and they have lost Penang". An eery feeling suddenly crept in. Flashback of the stories of May 13 that my mom told me. I told him KL is down and Selangor is on the way.
I quickly asked him to go home where ever he is. He was jolted awake suddenly by me and realised that situation is very uncertain and anything could have happened, had any Ultras just threw a stone or bottle somewhere. I called my wife asking her to stay indoors.
Nothing did happened that night and on the next Sunday morning, we proudly watched on TV, announcing a major political tsunami in Malaysia. I was glad, but I couldn't stop a sigh of relieve that nothing happened.
I realised that we young Malaysians had grown away from May 13. While I do not really understand the feeling of them who had encountered it, we do need to remember what happened. But it is not for us to remember to hate, but for us to remember to cherish this is part of our history and to learn from the mistakes made and to further improve ourselves.
Looking back at mom's recollection of May 13, we can see that not all Malays are Ultras. Mom said that there were very glad that Pak Mat and some came helping and stood guard. And likewise, Pak Mat was very sad on what has happened to those at Tai Wa cinema, and some were friends that were lost there. Even today we all knew that not all Malays are Ultras and they don't stir up May 13 but instead understand why it had happened.
Its already 42 years since then. And today, as a proud young Malaysian, I can proudly say that we have moved past May 13 as demonstrated last March 08.
And today let us rejoice together as a peace loving Malaysian and celebrate this day!!!!
Saya Anak Bangsa Malaysia
Grandpa and grandma quicklty packed up some food in case they need to make a run and gathered everyone. They all sat quietly waiting at furthest back of the tiny little wooden house, at the back of the kitchen. Grandpa took a radio to the kitchen, to listen to any news on what is happening outside.
No one dared venture outside. The usually lively squatters was extremely quiet that day. Then a few knocks on the door...everyone was quiet and dared not answer...then a few knocks again...and a few knocks again...then someone called my grandpa's name softly..."Ah Chong...Ah Chong...are you inside??" I took another few more calling before my grandpa opened the door, only after he was sure that it was the youngster from the sundry shop.
They continued their conversations in front of the house, whispering to each other. Then he came to the kitchen and gathered everyone. They walked out of the house and quickly hurried themselves to the wood-processing factory nearby.
Along the way to the factory, mom and family was accompanied by some young Chinese. They were the gangsters at the squatters, some with scars on their hands, some with tattoos. Each on of them were holding a parang, some samurais and others metal rods.
Upon reaching, they were led to the wooden planks stores and were told to hide there. There were also a few other neighbours there. Everyone look frightened, not knowing what is happening outside. After some whispers here and there, mom found out that some other neighbours have gone to Chan Sow Lin and were also hiding at some factories.
Before the Chinese youngsters left, a few more youngsters came and grab some more parangs, samurais and metal rods from the store, hidden among the planks of woods. Mom took a peep saw a huge load of weapons hidden in between.
Then someone called out in Malay...everyone panicked, thinking that they were ambushed...everyone kept quiet..after a long wait, Grandpa whisper "Don't worry, he is Pak Mat, he and a few others will help guard around the squatters". The day went by and soon night fall. That night, mom heard on radio where emergency was declared by Tunku Abdul Rahman.
Mom heard from one of the neighbours that a massive blood shed had broke out at Tai Wa cinema (old Cathay cinema along Jalan Pudu, now an empty lot with a bus station). There were scores of people inside the cinema, watching a just up-on-the-screen new movie. Suddenly, they were attacked and a lot were dead. They couldn't escape.
Some of the Chinese gangsters who were around just managed to gather some people, withhold them and fought them off, trying to save as many people as possible. There were also some Malays locals around who helped out, trying to pull away people and hide them around, under the drain, inside shops, anywhere, anywhere they can. The slashing soon backed off and moved back towards Puduraya. Mom also heard that many Malays were also hurt.
Mom's tears flowed down her cheek. Til today no one know how many were sacrificed.
The FRUs arrived shortly, trying to help as much as possible. Apparently, the FRUs were also up in arms against the Police as well, as during that time, the FRUs were made up of mainly Chinese while the Police were Malays. The FRUs soon rounded up some Chinese gangsters and instructed them to help stand guard around their villages.
The FRUs helped manned the main roads leading to the villages. Some Malays volunteered to help, manning the intersections into the villages together with the Chinese gangsters and patrol around at night.
Throughout the night, there were some noises outside the factory and around the squatters. Footsteps of people running around quickly. Rays of torch lights occasionally seen blared into the factory. However, no untowards incident happened. Everyone stayed at the factory for a few days, with the Chinese and Malay youngsters taking turns to bring food to the factory and taking turns patrolling. It was only after the Soldiers came that everyone dared go back to their houses. And everyone was glad that nothing untowards happened to any of the villagers in the squatters.
It was an unforgettable day in Malaysia history. And with that incident shaped the path of our society today.
I could not understand her feelings, everytime she told me her stories of May 13. I can just imagined how bad it was and how it has traumatized my family and the rest of the Chinese society from that era.
And not too long ago, I do had a near encounter of the feeling of some sort, if not entirely similar. It was 8 March 2008. We were back at the nerve centre, to hand in the results from the polling centre I was taking charge of, and it was a win from the school. On the way back, my friend called and said that Khalid has won Bandar Tun Razak. I was jumping.
I was even more estatic when unofficial results started to flow in and more schools were reporting majority wins. It was not what we expected, as we expected a tough fight. Soon calls started to flow in, we have won most seats in KL and Selangor is looking good, very good....
Crowds outside were celebrating, shouts can be heard. We quickly gathered some people and ask them to tone down, fearing any untowards incident. And coincidentally, the nerve centre was also in Pudu, behind the old Tai Wa cinema. Creepy.
Shortly we head to the nomination centre, waiting anxiously for the polling officer to annouce the results. We knew we have nailed it and were just waiting for the official results. Then my phone rang, my friend from Penang called. He told "Tsu Koon lost and they have lost Penang". An eery feeling suddenly crept in. Flashback of the stories of May 13 that my mom told me. I told him KL is down and Selangor is on the way.
I quickly asked him to go home where ever he is. He was jolted awake suddenly by me and realised that situation is very uncertain and anything could have happened, had any Ultras just threw a stone or bottle somewhere. I called my wife asking her to stay indoors.
Nothing did happened that night and on the next Sunday morning, we proudly watched on TV, announcing a major political tsunami in Malaysia. I was glad, but I couldn't stop a sigh of relieve that nothing happened.
I realised that we young Malaysians had grown away from May 13. While I do not really understand the feeling of them who had encountered it, we do need to remember what happened. But it is not for us to remember to hate, but for us to remember to cherish this is part of our history and to learn from the mistakes made and to further improve ourselves.
Looking back at mom's recollection of May 13, we can see that not all Malays are Ultras. Mom said that there were very glad that Pak Mat and some came helping and stood guard. And likewise, Pak Mat was very sad on what has happened to those at Tai Wa cinema, and some were friends that were lost there. Even today we all knew that not all Malays are Ultras and they don't stir up May 13 but instead understand why it had happened.
Its already 42 years since then. And today, as a proud young Malaysian, I can proudly say that we have moved past May 13 as demonstrated last March 08.
And today let us rejoice together as a peace loving Malaysian and celebrate this day!!!!
Saya Anak Bangsa Malaysia
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