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| I Love Quotes, and Don;t Mess With My MotherI love quotes. Don’t you? It doesn’t really matter where they come from. They could come from the speeches of famous influential people, movies, or even Homer Simpson. Most often than not, they all make sense. There are a few that have stuck in my head and time to time I would revise the application and how much they make sense.
I once had a rather uncomfortable conversation with a friend’s father. He said, “Taufiq, when there are problems, issues, and conflicts, arise in a family or any intimate relationships, the man is always to blame. Never put the blame on the women, and never put it on the kids”. How we ended up talking about it, only god knows. However I cannot agree more with that old man. He had the hands on experience. In the beginning he did not anticipate the degree of destruction his misdemeanor would cause and eventually things blew out of proportion as it should. It has gotten better for him since but left an ugly in his marriage. While he was lost in the world of infidelity he always had in mind, ways to justify his deceitful behavior. There was always someone to blame and point fingers at. However once the gravity of the situation was unearthed, it was all pointing back at him. It was he who distanced himself, and it was he who brought himself to believe that what he was doing wasn’t wrong. Perhaps it wasn’t. But deception makes facts irrelevant. In the end, family was severely affected. Fortunately he repented, and saved his family and more importantly, marriage. It was however like driving a car that’s been fixed from a nasty crash. Not as good and far from being better. Never the same.
Alfred Lord Tennyson once said, “It’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all”. I must say, I couldn’t disagree more. You don’t want to be driving your ultimate dream car knowing it will be taken away from you. Don’t believe me? Ask Jeremy Clarkson how hard it was returning the Bugatti Veyron after having driven it across Europe. Your also wouldn’t want to go back to drinking wine from the box once you can afford those properly bottled ones (with real cork, not those fancy modern ‘neo corks’). And you definitely would not want to go back to cheap escort service once you are welcomed into that executive sex group you had been longing to enroll into. What I’m trying to say is that if you knew something good just couldn’t and wouldn’t last there’s no point having it at all. Having things you like, enjoy, and love, taken away from you really sucks. You’ll end up dreaming of cruising in a Veyron at record breaking speed while really you were struggling to engage second gear in your 1992 Vauxhall. Or sipping wine that has come out of a tap attached to a carton box, from a crystal glass. Instead of getting that subtle scent of oakwood, all you get is the smell of a paper factory. Worst, is having sex with a teethless 50 year-old hooker, while trying so hard to picture her as a tight 30 year-old workoholic executive, breaking away from work to fulfill her natural desire, screaming your name out loud, but the truth, you know for a fact, in a weeks time itchy spots will appear on your shaft, you’d rather die than face the embarrassment of telling you physician’s reception what your visit was regarding. So, no, having love and lost is far from better, instead it’s the opposite of better, than never have loved at all. Sorry Alfred, you should’ve gone out more.
One fine summer evening during the last days of my student life I was hanging out with my two best friends, in the back yard of our rented home in Filton - effortlessly chugging a crate of Stella Artois (each) - one of them said something quite wise. It was more of an open ended question. He said, “If there was someone who has all these while, provided you with everything you’d ever need that you feel forever indebted, and one day that very same person kills your mother, would you still respect that person?” I sat there and thought, ‘wow, I’ve never actually thought of that’. I meant I’ve never really put it that way and I realized there’s no better way to put it. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work out the logic of course. Naturally the answer would definitely be a big ‘NO’. That is one line that nobody, under any circumstances, should ever cross. No external factor, apart from divine intervention, can ever disrupt that sacred bond between a son and his mother. God made it that way and that’s just the way it is. And when I said nobody, I literally meant nobody without exceptions. Those who hurt my mother, in any possible way for any possible reason, deliberate or not, do not and will not ever deserve my respect even if it worth nothing regardless all the good things they have provided me with. Give me all the money in the world and beg for forgiveness, a piece of shit will always be a piece of shit.
-Tau
p/s: don't mess with my mother | | |
| Confused? Solution is Simple
I haven’t written on this issue
for quite awhile now. Had been talking and preaching and writing about it too
much that I have gotten to a point, that thinking of it is rather futile and
childish even. So what I did was totally ignore it and avoid being involved in
any discussion and conversation leading to it. That though, does not mean I
have mellowed down or stopped caring let alone being indifferent about it.
Too many people are trying their
very best not to accept the way they were born. They have this strong
self-created urge to defy the truth, to exile from their own self. ‘This isn’t
me’, ‘I’m not it’, ‘oh, I’m different’, and all other cliché they can come up
with.
They just have to get away from their
race, religion, and the culture that comes with the former the day they were
born. It is an unsurprising but disturbing the fact that they wish they were
born and brought up differently. Wanting to be someone else and something else.
They find it hard to embrace the language they were born into, opting for a
‘cooler’ one, of which they are not familiar with let alone be proficient using
is. Many are, too embarrassed to embrace their rather non-MTV cultural
practices, from the way they speak to the kinds of things they like. Some even
stopped using their unique given names to blend in with their aspired social
groups. Worse of all, many try so hard not too look and appear they way their
physical appearance do.
It is really simple, whether you
are or you just aren’t. It seems too ‘uncool’ to just admit to their own
ethnics. Here are some instances.
There was a campaign in the
college I attended promoting the use of spoken English while on campus grounds.
There was an exhibitor who loved to talk and give unquestioned answers. We
asked for her name, and naturally she did with an extensive elaboration. “Oh
but people, even my family call me Ally, and although I was born into a Malay
family, English is my first language”. “Okay…” I thought, “Thanks, good for
you”. Somehow it seemed to her as if I was going to punish her for not being
born an uptight-anglo-saxon-snob. I get it you’re not English, and have a name
that couldn’t define your background more, that it’s almost impossible to pronounce,
but chill woman, it’s ok to be Malay.
Sometime the same year, we were
hanging out at a café that we hang out in more than anyone else - even the
waitresses – I over herd a young lady, complaining about the way people talk to
her. These are not her exact words but it sounded something like this, “I
doesn’t understood why these pupil speaking Malay to me. I cannot see what they
talking”. It hurt trying not to laugh. The situation was funny the way it is,
but the fact behind it still bothers me today.
There is a young man I know quite
well. He has the same problem. He knew who and what he was, but keep on
derailing himself from the real him. When asked on his ethnicity he would tend
to make it seems complicated. “My great grandfather married a Chinese and my
mother is from Kelantan and has a distant relative from Burma, so I
don’t really know what I am”. Well, dude, you are a pure blood and live with
it. It’s not that bad being the same as everyone else. We still love you
anyhow.
There was a little man. Really
he’s in fact vertically challenged. I know a four years old taller than him.
But his inability to go for the Space Adventure ride in Disneyland
isn’t the question here. He is rather good in the Queen’s language, I give him
that. But he also has the idea that everyone has to be at least half as good.
He insists that even khutbah during Friday prayer in Malaysian masjids should
be delivered in English. I find it amusing the way he fakes his inability to
comprehend Malay language.
Now let us look at more obvious
instances, of people who just refuse to embrace their own self. I’m sure many
of us have heard of the name Hishamuddin Rais, a well known self-exiled ex-ISA
fugitive, and currently a freelance bon-vivant. He is not quite a typical
I-hate-my-background case. In contrary he has a better idea of preserving
traditional Malaysian culture. But the trouble with him is that he is worried
that by embracing his own culture he will be no different from others. So what
he did? He writes about culinary cultures of the world as he trots the globe.
Well what’s wrong with that? Here is what. It is safe to assume all Malays are
Muslims. Whether or not he is, is a totally different story. But as far as
Malaysians are concerned, he is. When he writes he would emphasize on how much
he loves the food he was writing on and what alcoholic beverage suits the dish
best. He once wrote on his experience having Satay at a typical Satay stall,
and how much he loved the dish with red wine that he brought his own bottle and
plastic cup. Ooh, a Malay who drinks in public. Big deal dude. Go to Hartamas Square
you’ll find a handful of Malay guys, just like you but younger, enjoying a
plate of Nasi Lemak with a bottle of beer. It’s really up to you how you enjoy
your Satay, there’s no need to brag about your obsession for hydro-carbonated
drinks.
Not many have read about this
other Malaysian Malay exile. Salleh ben Joned. He impregnated an Australian
girl and married her many years ago. A responsible lad. He has almost full
understanding of his inborn religion, Islam, but proclaims himself as an apostate
struggling go get out of apostasy. My personal opinion, he’s not struggling. He
just doesn’t want to get out of it because once he does, there’s nothing more
to complain about, and that’s what his life has been all about. Finding flaws
in things and write about it. He is a double trouble. He also hate – although
hate is a strong word but the way he writes, he really does – Malay language.
According to him it is an adopted language that the Malays made their own.
Words from other languages are adopted into the language altogether. I agree
that some foreign word adoptions that we practice are rather absurd but take
the holistic approach in examining the issue. The fundamental of the idea of
the country, down to the formation of our constitution and legal systems are
copycats. Our national anthem happens to be the modified version of an
Indonesian song Terang Bulan which happens to be the intro of a Hawaiian song
Mamula Moon. Our flag resembles the American flag. To think of it, Malaysia is
in fact the new America, found by an explorer, adopted the explorer’s mother
tongue and cultures and made it their
own, only younger by merely 200 years. Back to Mr Ben Joned, he demonstrates
prominent effort in distinguishing himself from others through his poetic writing.
Hes writes his English poems so deep and complicated, full of his wide range of
vocabulary that I bet even Shakespeare would have had a hard time
comprehending. Well, I think he does it so well, that he is different to the
extent that he’s almost weird.
Enough instances. These people
are too scared of embracing themselves as it would make them normal and
unnoticed. Maybe they have no faith in their own cultural and religious
backgrounds to guide them through this modern world. Or perhaps there’s a huge
lack of understanding and knowledge or too much of it. Perhaps, these people just
love this self inflicted confusion as being settled means they then have to
move on and actually live and life could be confusing and depressing.
But my hones opinion says, these
people have extremely low level of self-esteem, and very insecure of themselves
that being normal doesn’t help. If that is the case and I really hope it is,
they should stop running away from their own shadows and just get a cock-pump
or a boob-job. I bet with my life they would feel better.
All this running away from own
self is really disheartening. I can do it too if I wanted to. When asked about
my racial backgrounds I can just say, my great grandfather emigrated from Indonesia and
my mother was a Singaporean before she obtained her probational Malaysian
citizenship. It doesn’t answer the question but it sure does make me feel different. ~Tau Kamal~
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| Might As Well Do It Right
Everybody’s Doing
It
Might as well do it
right.
-
TauKamal
From the smallest state in the country in the north, down to
the southern tip of the peninsular. From the peaceful country side to the
hustle and bustle in our ever growing metropolitan cities. In universities,
colleges, high schools, middle schools and in a number of isolated cases,
primary schools. Those in their middle age do not want to be left behind too.
There is no written civil law let alone the constitution that states the
citizen of this independent country is prohibited from doing it. It is natural
and fun and satisfying if you know how to make it fun and satisfying, and to do
so, well, you will certainly need a fair level of experience. Of course there
is this grey area in the norm of any society that the practice might be
tabooed. Well, since it is indeed grey, who gives a flying fuck.
Oops, there it is.
I said it. In a more civilized manner, sex. Or if that word turns you red,
intercourse, or the practice of demonstrating physical attraction. When I said
everybody, I really meant everybody. So many of us have done it that the ratio
of the number of people who have done it matches the local-Malaysian ratio inLondon
city. They are everywhere. Do not be deceived by their looks, or their age, or
religion, or their family backgrounds. They could be the piano girl on Sunday
Service. They could be the one lighting up joss sticks for their families. They
may even pray five times a day, but what difference do they make? They are
still doing it every night and every day, every morning after pray. Young
adults who never miss school and obedient to their parents and respectful
towards others are doing it. Priests, imams, rabbis, monks, ministers, kings,
teachers, doctors, janitors – they all are doing it. The question on when,
where, how much and with whom they are doing it is entirely their business. As
long as their practices do not severely affect their loved ones emotionally and
physically, it is totally fine. But is it?
No, it is not
fine. Not the underlying culture of a social group nor it is the restrictions
by certain religions that make the subject of sex (or even mentioning the word)
a taboo or even illegal. That entirely depends of individuals. What not fine is
the ignorance on negative physical impact it brings if it is not done properly.
All of us have been taught the basics of sex, protection and family planning
back in school. But the trouble is, the subject seemed to be way too
embarrassing for the teacher to elaborate and far too awkward for the kids to
really pay attention to what the teacher had to say, that it is only taught in
one chapter, in one secondary school module for less than half an hour
throughout 11 years of compulsory education. And it never came up in any
examinations. The results, nobody gives a flying fuck about it, nobody
remembers it and the subject was never to be discussed ever again.
The lack of
information gets the kids curious. So they start to find external resources,
not to learn how to do it – as we humans, at certain age just miraculously
happen to know what to do with our penises and vaginas especially when they
meet – but to learn to improvise. The visuals are normally so realistic and
natural, and exiting and intriguing. It can be done in so many ways at so many
places and with so many people!!! Then one thing they would certainly notice.
There is no ‘rubber’ present. But the kids do have a vague memory in the
darkest corners of their brains that their science teacher one said that to do
it right you would need rubber. But those guys on TV never used them. Now the
question arises. What are they for? But there is no one there to ask, and if
they did ask someone, chances are that someone would not want to talk about it
because it’s ‘not nice to talk about it’ or ‘you’re too young to know’. In the
end the kids would come up with their own logics. “Hmm, use rubber to play
safe. But those actors never use them, and their partners seem to be fine with
it… YES!!! Now I get it!!! They fire their blow all over their partners’ bodies
instead of inside them so they will not get pregnant. And the reason anyone
would use rubber it that, so they will not stain and mess up the velvet couch,
now the couch is safe!!! Now that makes perfect sense, use rubber to play
safe!!!”
Now is the time to
experiment everything they have picked up so far. They would do it the first
time and get over the awkward moment, and off they go. Without realizing they
have graduated from KarmaSutraUniversity, all these are done unprotected. The
results? Teen pregnancy, nasty and deadly Sexually Transmitted Diseases, and
the worse of all, illegal abortion of those innocent babies-to-be. These cases
can be found daily, and in abundance in any local public hospitals.
Well, our natural
knee-jerk reaction would be to start pointing fingers. Parents start to blame
their kids, and vise versa, and the government… well, they just don’t give a
flying fuck. Or do they? Even if they do, some shallow cum narrow minded
‘concerned’ citizen – parents, NGOs, teachers, politicians included – will go
on and on about how we practice eastern culture and it is not in our culture to
talk about it. It’s a taboo. Even to talk about it. They make it seem like it
was a sin to even mention the word ‘sex’, while other words with similar
meaning say… ‘fuck’ are being used the way our ever popular ‘lah’ are used all
day everyday. These people will freak out if someone suggested sexual education
to be incorporated in school curriculum, believing sex belongs only to those
who are married. Well, there is a little truth in that. But that attitude
towards sex, gives the idea to the kids that marriage is merely a license to be
having sex. Well, it kind of true, that traditionally, in our culture we can
only have sex with our legitimate partners. Guess what people, that culture is
long gone. All this while you have been busting your bums off to protect
something that’s not even there anymore.
Of course
introducing sexual education in schools will not be an easy task. But we managed
to change the language used in our education system, slowly but surely. In a
way, this should be easier as sex, regardless what language it is in, is the
same. Same technique and same results. There is only one way to put on a
condom. For practical training, we always have abundant supply bananas to learn
to put them on. Availability of free condoms birth control pills needs to be
made public. Literature on dangers of unprotected sex should be made available
for everyone especially teenagers. Well, these resources ARE available and they
ARE FREE!!! All we have to do is approach any nearest government health care
centre and ask for them. But many, even those who know, could come up with a
million excuses not to get them. Some are shy; some don’t know they are free.
Even they need to be purchased, a pack of three condoms cost not more than
RM10. That is way cheaper that any clinics that offer illegal abortion, cheaper
than STD treatments and definitely cheaper than raising a child.
At the
same time you will be surprised to find that many matured adults have still no
clue on benefits and advantages of having protected sex and family planning.
They are 40 year old mothers who get pregnant every single year since they were
married. Being pregnant at that age not only dangers the baby, it can even kill
the mother. When asked on why they do not use contraceptives, the answers are
always painful to hear. “We can’t afford them”, or “They are not comfortable”
and the worst yet, “My husband does not believe in using condoms and he
wouldn’t let me take pills either.” SERIOUSLY???!!!
The lack of sexual education has led to many
severe consequences. Our ignorance has killed many ever year and will continue
so long as we don’t open our minds. Unmarried young people will keep on having
raunchy sex without any kind of protection because they see porn stars are
doing alright without them. Matured adults still commit adultery thinking their
legitimate partner will never suffer, both mentally and physically, and we who
somehow, so far, managed to luckily get away with it free from any severe
mental and physical damages just DON’T GIVE A FLYING FUCK.
| | |
| Skeleton in my ClosetI've too many skeletons in my closet and some of them wear dress.
Say
you have them too. Years past and next thing you know you'd have a
collection of facts, those of which, in your opinion, may better be
hidden, or concealed from, people in general, a specific group of
people, or even a particular person for various reasons such as, to
protect them from maybe pain - be it physical or psychological - or
maybe, selfishly yourself. The metaphor 'skeleton' is used to reflect
the nature of the fact it carries. Dark, dirty, deceitful they maybe
but not necessarily. Some things are just not meant to be known, some
must wait for the 'right time' to be let out, and some are just plain
insignificant. But, either way they must come out. Sooner or later,
they must and they will.
The trouble with these skeletons are,
keeping it in too long might, or rather will, cause serious
consequences. Unlike real bones, they will start to rot. They will
start to stink and once they do, others will notice. Imagine you have a
beautifully decorated bedroom, clean and tidy but there's a sharp nose
piercing odor coming out of the closet and others walked into the room.
You figure it out.
Think of it metaphorically. And, think of it
from other peoples' point of view. What would they think? What would
they feel? Something must be wrong, that's what. And at that point,
whether or not they saw your skeletons, and whether or not those
skeletons of yours has a dark side, or whether or not they knew the
purpose of them being kept for so long, don't matter much more. Your
intention of letting them out one day is now left in vain. The facts of
which you had been concealing, be it bright or dark, now symbolize
dishonesty, and intention to deceit. Whatever plans you have post
skeletal disposal is now pointless. Premature discovery of them, turns
honest mistakes and dark pasts that were, into lies. Try to deny it,
try to save yourself, the ball is just not in your court no more.
You
are now seen as a lying bastard, or cheating son of a bitch. The trust
is now gone. You are back to square one. "GO TO JAIL!! DO NOT PASS GO.
DO NOT COLLECT 200". All you have now are regrets, disappointment,
hatred towards yourself, and not a single trace of self esteem. You get
depressed, and try to share with those who think they know you well but
you know better. With that many skeletons, no one really knows you that
well, and as much consolation as they could possibly give, it just
won't make you feel any better. You'd just want to bang your head
really hard on the wall that you brain would explode. A knife in the
heart, sounds very inviting. You just want to tie yourself on the
railroad so it all will soon be over. This is when sanity comes into
play. Facing it with sanity is like having an open heart surgery
performed on you while you're wide awake, without any kind of
anesthetics and it's not even an option. It hurts like a bitch, you can
see and feel everything that's being done on you and there's nothing
you can do about it but try hard to stay still. It will feel like
forever. You feel like you're going to die which is ironic because it
is exactly the one thing that will keep you alive.
There are
only two possible outcomes. One, you'll die. The other, you'll make it
through. One thing for sure though, if you did make it through, it will
leave an ugly scar so obvious that you will never ever be able to
forget and really get over it.
It stays with you forever. You will ever be haunted. Just like me.
-taukamal | | |
| Straight upMy writing had always been
somewhat vague that only those who knew what i was talking about could
tell what i was saying. But the problem is the very target niche that i
aimed for couldn't really see that. So, tell you what. Fuck it. I'm
just gonna say it straight. No metaphors, no hidden meanings. What I'm
about to say carries the very literal meaning of very single word of
it, so even a six year old could understand.
When you want something,
just fucking say it and ask for it. Don't play games like, "oh, he
should have understood....." because you know what, HE FUCKING DOESNT
until you say so.
When you did something that
caused severe negative impact on the other party, well, logically, you
should never ever use any turn of event to turn the blame on them. It's
just cheap and bloody unfair.
Nice people who were born
nice, who have always been nice to you and will always be, well, are
really really sincerely nice and have good intention towards you. They
might even marry you one day. But they are human as well and they have
flaws. Naturally they bound to make mistakes regardless how nice they
are. So when they did, and apologized, so the decent thing to do is to
at least forgive them. Not cut them off and make them feel like
worthless bastards. You know they'll think it's their mistake and take
all the blame and spend the rest of their lives feeling bad about it
and regretting doing whatever you thought they did. So what, you take
pleasure in others' misery? Nice. How thoughtful.
I LOVE YOU AND WHY IS THAT SO HARD FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND????????????? | | |
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