Allow us to Redeem

People are worth more than their worst action. Life imprisonment and the death sentence do no justice to the power of redemption. The purpose of incarceration should go beyond the efforts to put away the bad guys and free our roads of danger. There is a bigger picture. Importance should be placed on the betterment of the society within the four walls of the prison itself.

Our prisons are filled with people who were born, or grew up under unfortunate circumstances. People who come from low economic backgrounds, minimal education, abusive past and many other dark holes that you and I could never imagine coming out clean from. It’s a vicious cycle; it has always been a vicious cycle. People who are abused as children grow up to be abusive parents, people who are lonely visit prostitutes, people who have no money steal, people who are going through a rough patch in life turn to drugs, children of drug dealers grow up to become drug addicts, drug addicts in return murder or rape under the influence of the substance, people hit and run out of fear, mothers kill their babies out of insanity, husbands murder their wives out of jealousy. Its hard to justify any crime, more so if the criminal is a stranger to us. Mistakes that we make is what makes us more human. Its the actions that are evil, not the person itself.

In our prisons, people are denied of their basic human rights even though incarceration alone is their only punishment. Avenue for reform is looked upon as an ideal luxury. They suffer in silence, because there is no concern for them who we call our “sampah masyarakat”. The death sentence and life imprisonment with no parole awaits some who hit ultimate rock bottom. Shouldn’t they be given a chance to prove to society that there is hope for redemption even for the worst wrong? We are a forgiving society, at least that is what we were thought to believe. As we choose who we want to forgive, we choose to give up this power that humans are gracefully gifted with, the power to feel guilt and remorse, the power to be human.

The parole system is being implemented for the first time in our country. Currently in the stage of trial, soon to be part of our lives. It is a lamp to our feet, it brings a glimmer of hope. If corruption does not bleed its way into the system, there is a way for us to ease the common social concern and fears that come along with the implementation of the parole system. We all make mistakes, some just bigger than the others. There should always be a chance for us to say sorry.

I am a good person. We are all good people, that’s just the way it is. But sometimes we act less human because along the line, we got a little unlucky. No human’s life is more precious than the other. If my father sold drugs, I would be a drug addict too. If my mother hit me, I would hit my children too. If I lost my soul mate, I would resort to drugs too. If I was a drug addict, I would kill under the influence of the substance too.

I would hope, that after my years of punishment, someone would show me the right way. I would hope that someone would teach me how to love again. I would hope to be able to live again, doing the things that I was never thought as a child, and living out my life of redemption. I would never want to be hung, to die before I could realize that what I did was wrong. I wouldn’t want to die without saying sorry to the ones I hurt.

“Old pirates, yes, they rob i;
Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took i
From the bottomless pit.
But my hand was made strong
By the and of the almighty.
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly.
Wont you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs” (Bob)

The wise one

According to some believes, spiritual enlightenment is the ultimate goal of all things living. It is the last stage of life, the path worth crossing, as your soul ascends into the next realm that awaits. Yogis spend their lifetime meditating, hoping to someday be a part of the glorious invitation. Buddha achieved enlightenment while meditating under a tree. It is said that once you have received the gift, you would be all knowledgeable, all knowing and all the secrets of the world would be reviled to you.

I quote a paragraph from The Living Buddha, 2005: A Buddha or fully enlightened one, is regarded as a sentient being who has developed all positive qualities, and has eradicated all negative qualities, and with complete wisdom sees things "as they are. "Enlightenment in zen - the state of being with no "little" mind. It is the disappearance of the ego. It is the loss of all identification with the body and the mind. It is freedom from beliefs, opinions, ideals and concepts.

As I was reading this book I thought, it seems almost impossible for an average functional modern day, middle class working individual to achieve such greatness and importance in life. We can hardly hear ourselves think in our busy day, less alone seek the divine intervention by chance. One must be detached of all things physical, detached of all thoughts- like them who devote their life to meditation. But then again, maybe there are amongst us who serve this cause. Born in a state of purity, remain in a state of purity, detached from everything and anything earthly, free from all thought.

Here I refer to those who steal a special place in our hearts. People who suffer, on in this case, gifted with severe mental and motor impairment, lacking of their awareness and existence. If this was true for some at least, do they not see things as what they are, free of all ego, and most importantly, free from all negative intentions and thoughts? Them who are pure, them who are happy, them who are zen, them who are content, and them who are calm.

Must we actively seek enlightenment or can it just miraculously happen when the soul has reached its prime. A lifetime on earth dedicated to living zen, and being a sentient individual. Perhaps, they are the most wise of us all, holders of ancient souls, possessor of all knowledge.

Little stinkers

I met my little nephew last week. We call him Uncle Fester due to some physical resemblance. At first sight, there is no doubt that he suffers from ADHD. So aggressive, so rough, so unlike a 6 year should be. Everything he said or did had to do with physically hurting another.

Out of my auntly obligation, I reached out to play a little game of tickles with him. What a perfect opportunity i opened up for him to tell me how he would like to kick me unconscious, and throw my dead body in the jungle, after which he would slit my throat and watch my blood ooze all over my body. How horrifying it was to hear it coming from a 6 year old, or anyone at all to start out with. All of which were happening under the watchful eyes of his parents. They seemed to have found it amusing that the little brat was so full of energy and character.

Media plays a big role in educating our children. It shapes their values and the person that they would someday become. As much as our local censorship board may seem like they are doing an excellent job as they “TOOT” every bitch, bastard and ass, there is yet a long way for us to go till the day when we can safely leave our children in front of the tv.

Take for example Hell’s Kitchen, a weekly reality show which airs at 9.00pm. A show about a crude and obnoxious man chef passing on his knowledge to what it seems to be a bunch of young up-coming low self-esteem female kitchen helpers. Yelling and cursing for a continuous 30 minutes, nothing else caught my attention. The kitchen helpers looked terrified, and he looked as tough he enjoyed every minute of being the sadistic asshole that it was. For us it passes off as a pointless program, but as for the children, every thing they see is a lesson learnt.

This is just one example of the many programs that feed to the growth of violence in our country. This is one of the root causes to all the domestic abuse that we face today. What are we teaching our children? That it is ok for men to yell at women as such? Treat women as though they were second class and less worthy?

Although verbal and emotional abuse are not criminal acts, at least in our country, but there is a chance that it may lead to physical abuse. If we want to fight abuse against women and children, we must first try to kill the culture that feeds our young’s minds. The culture that make it somewhat OK for women to be of lesser importance. More than 40-60 % of abuse victims become abusers someday.

There is much to say about abuse, mush more that could b done. Sometimes, we get so preoccupied in helping victims; we forget to fight the cause. It is indeed a vicious cycle, snowballing into a disaster. If you think that the only way of fighting this cause is by lobbying at the parliament, think again. Switch off the TV the next time your child is watching a violent movie, and join the rest in their noble fight!

Visitors of the earth

Yesterday, a few of us rode off to the nearest beach to have a fun day out. We were driving around looking for the perfect shaded beach to laze the day away. While driving pass a park, I saw a few horses from afar. We parked by the side, walked in the shade towards the horses and sat on a bench nearby. The sight that we signed up for was heartbreaking.

There were four horses, two of them ponies. The black beauty immediately caught my eye, standing tall and beautiful. They had ropes tied around their mouth, holding them close to a bar. These ropes were hardly a meter long, the horses couldn’t move or stretch, or saddest above all, the horses couldn’t even sit because the floor was too hot. One of the pony was tied in the afternoon sun, missed the tree shade by a few inches. All of them looked so tired, their knees were giving way once in a while as they fought to stand up straight. The black beauty had her ribs protruding out of her stomach. The rest were relatively healthy. Every minute or so, we noticed the horses licking their lips. Out of that entire hour that we were perched there, not a single drop of water was offered to this horses. My sympathy reached out most to the most unfortunate one of all. He had a cart rested on his back. It looked pretty heavy, constructed using iron and wood. The pony had his eyes closed all the time. It looked like it was about to faint as it was swaying from left to right. It had tear marks leading down its face. It also had a wound around his neck with flies nesting on it.

What a sad sight. How cruel these people may be? Such a beautiful and majestic animal, so soulful and strong, stripped of its dignity and respect.

All things living have souls. May it be as majestic as a lion, exotic as a hornbill, secret as a cow, tame as dogs, troublesome as termites or as disgusting as fungus. The common notion is that the smaller you are, the less worthy your life is. Notice how animal lovers never think twice about spraying down a trail of ants? As humans, what gives us the right to decide which life is more worthy?

Like many others, I too believe that animals are here as part of the cycle of life. Carnivores and omnivores kill to keep their generation going. We need to kill for basic necessities, food being the only option in our generation. Unlike our ancestors who killed to keep themselves warm, it does not apply in this era. We have taken the power to a different level, we kill for glamour, we kill for entertainment, we kill for convenience, we have no regard for our fellow living beings. So heartless we are, makes me wonder which of us are more human?

Let us not disgrace our fellow human kind by neglecting our capacity to empathies, think and love. Kill if you must, spare if u can, love whenever else you can.

Complication is Complete- Cushion

I quote these questions that has been uttered to me over and over again by various people, “why do you have to make things so complicated?”, or “Why do you have to think so much?”. The word Complicated: complex, difficult, knotty, problematic. There is a negative connotation to the common perception of these words. In this, I beg to differ. Complicated in my world would mean that the matter holds greater importance and requires to be thought through, maybe a little more than the others. And as for thinking too much… well, sorry if it out beats your cognitive quota of the day.

Women, synonym as the word caring. People of my gender are more loving and thoughtful, with the proof of The Evolution Theory to back me up. There is no running away from these feelings inside. I feel every little smile, every hug, every rainbow, every tear, every nail chip, every bad hair day, every part of me and you. Sometimes, it’s inevitable for these emotions to get tangled up with each other, some lost in translation, and things become; what others may perceive to be - bad complication.

There is an inner beauty in things all complicated. The roads in KL are so complicated- that’s because a few kind souls thought of our convenience and figured out many different roots and alternatives to get to one destination. Math’s is so complicated- we have to thank our great mathematicians that went down history by spending a lifetime figuring out formulas. Relationships are so complicated- you better wish it was!

Complication is just a manifestation of my love. My passion, my involvement and my thoughts in the things I do and the people I care for. If I should complicate your life in any way- that’s only because you are worth all my time thinking about. For those who complicate my life, I love you too. Nothing gives me more answers that than my very own complications.

I Will believe my way

My catechism teacher (Mr.Pati) once shared a story about this man whose life was so miserable and hated God so much for causing him all the pain. To ease the suffering inside, he would go to church and curse at the alter all Sabbath day long.

Me and my other 8 year old classmates were appalled by the story, ‘boy is he gonna burn in hell we thought’. Mr.Pati made us understand that it is people like him that would be promised a place in heaven, because unlike most of who attend church, this man believed. This man had faith that God was listening to him without an ounce of doubt.

One’s spirituality can not and should not be measured by physical earthly things such as a rosary in the pocket, the masses you attend every Sunday or a bible in the hand. Being close to god is something maya to this world.

I never discuss my faith or spirituality in open, but this is something I feel obliged to share with others. It is something my father thought me, the rock of my faith and values. This I quote my father “ Help as many people as you can while you live, be gods hands, that is the closest you can get to heaven on earth”.

Animal nature and instinct only drive us humans towards survival of ourselves, and anything that can contribute to the spread of our genes. Any other love and care that extends beyond this cycle is the hands of god working in you. Smiling at a stranger, helping out a blind man or even petting a stray dog are actions beyond our instinct. And that is why, I believe, that people feel good after reaching out to others in need. Reach out more, and feel the energy growing in you.

Mandatory HIV test- best news all year!

I read a very disturbing article in The Star today called “Say ‘no’ to pre-marital HIV test”. It was written by a reader in response to the mandatory pre-marital HIV test for Muslims by Jakim. Just to summaries what she expressed, below are her thoughts and worries in bold.

It’s a disregard to human rights!

A violation of human rights in this case, would be if these results were used for reasons other than the betterment of the HIV epidemic which is on the rise in our country. What rights is she talking bout here? The right to remain ignorant?

This ruling causes panic and distress

I believe that there are things of greater importance other than one’s anxiety such as our next generation and the future of our nation. Mandatory HIV testing can be hope to a decrease in the spread of the HIV virus, an increase in the awareness of self health and a spare of innocent lives. 90 % of people infected with HIV are not aware they are infected with the virus. Being aware of your health condition gives you a chance to medicate yourself. An AIDS patient under proper medication is able to live a normal and healthy life, and in most cases, even an average lifespan. I wonder which one would she choose? a) A happy bride and groom who die young and infect their children? or b) A distressed bride and groom who live a healthy and normal life?.

Love, trust and respect will fly out the window if we find out that their partner has HIV. It will be the end of their marriage.

Question, can and would you trust, love and respect someone who hides the truth from you? Only 52% of people infected with HIV in developing countries tell their partner about their condition. A total of 2800 housewives have been infected by HIV from their husbands since the year 1986. Abandoning your infected partner may seem like the only choice, but if you do really love, trust and respect, there are always other alternatives to work out a marriage. May I suggest, adopting children to start out a family and practicing safe sex can promise you a pretty functional and normal family.

Malaysians is not that forgiving and understanding if they come to know

It is not denied that there is still a huge stigma on persons living with HIV/AIDS. Our job is to fight this stigma, not try to hide it.

Future of partner will be ruins

Worries of rejection by society is understandable. An important piece of information that should be taken into consideration is that results of these HIV test are confidential. Nobody needs to know if you don’t want them to.

Has the authority considered people who are infected by blood transfusion. What will happen to them?

The purpose of this mandatory ruling is not to punish the victim. No matter what the mode of transfusion may be, the ruling is there to stop the spread of HIV.

Children will suffer exclusion, Job offers will dry up, Patients in hospitals might complain

Work should not be affected because mandatory HIV screening in job applications are illegal in our country. There should also be no worries regarding objections from other patients in hospitals because they have a special infectious disease unit in all hospitals. Also, referring to worries about children and what they might face, its funny, this is the whole purpose of the mandatory screening, to stop the spread of HIV to our future generation. What does she mean when you want to protect the children? Wait a minute, lemmie guess, protect them from shame? Alas! I think i found our missing link!

No professional counselors for the victim, HIV test is expensive

This is pure bullshit!!! There are many government and NGO’s that offer counseling services and free HIV testing. This can always be an alternative. Though, I do agree that the cost of these tests might be a potential problem. Therefore, the government should look into subsidizing or bearing the cost of these tests.

Why not educate the public?

Some may think of this as extreme measures. Truth being, both the government and NGO sector have never stopped pouring endless effort in educating the public about HIV. However, these escalating numbers of HIV cases in our country are not just numbers; it is proof that merely education is not enough to stop this epidemic. We have to take positive action!!

Why are only the Muslims punished?

I also strongly agree with the reader by objecting that such measures should not be subjected to Muslims. Why the segregation? I think all races and religion in this country should be subjected to such measures. It is not a punishment, it is a blessing.

I sympathize on those who can not see the bigger picture. The cause that we should be fighting for. Aids does not discriminate, why should we???

I congratulate Jakim Jakin director-general, Datuk Wan Mohamad on his wise decision. This is the best thing anyone has done for Malaysia all year! Kudos to making Malaysia’s future brighter!

P/s: What about the rest of us? Just for your info, sex does not discriminate either. You can’t stop Muslims from falling in love with other races. I see a huge gap in your plan. Care to patch it up Mister?

The earth is not ours to claim, we can just borrow it from our children

Dear Friends,

Only by sharing our deeper thoughts & feelings do we communicate to, and inspire in others, a love for the people, and a respect for the earth. The indigenous peoples (Orang Asal) is our fella humankind and fella citizens of Malaysia. Let us not be bystanders but participants in their struggle.

Visit an online movie on IP struggles in Sarawak
http://whatrainforest.wordpress.com/2008/10/02/what-rainforest-the-film-now-online/

Tree Huggers

Hug a tree, and u might see, that what you intend to be, lies in pure simplicity.

Oops, I Did It Again

Cheers to my stupidity...

Oh god, I’ve been smiling to myself all day coz I'm surprised myself at the extent I am capable of going to utterly embarrass myself. Absolutely NO social skills whatsoever when it comes to a professional relationship. I've been getting feedback from people that apparently i'm very shy, timid and obedient. HAHAH!!!!! So not the Katrina that u know rite?? But it's true...within these four walls at least.....i stutter every time i see my boss. This is what happened to me over the weekend and today…..

I volunteered for the Aids Memorial day at Aquaria last Sunday. To my surprise, the professor that i am currently working with (Prof Adeeba) was present for the officiating. It was one of a kind; she dove in the aquarium with three other people surrounded by sharks and giant fishes and scary looking sea creatures and hung a banner underwater. What a sight right? That's what i thought..... so i had to say something to her.... coz i don't wanna appear rude, as i was the only one present there from my department, and she waved at me when she was in the aquarium.....i had to acknowledge her effort. I missed her on that very day, but i did manage to bump into her today morning on my way to the office.
So she says..."Katrina!!" ,, and i say "Oh prof! Good Morning"..... and then an awkward silence..... i looked straight and kept on walking.... roughly about one meter more to the office door..... Prof decided to kill the silence by asking "so....how are you?".... and i reply "fine thank you".....awkward silence again......
My brains were telling me to say something...but i just couldn't figure out what...... and then suddenly...... the horrific words came out........it was as though my mouth was going all out of its way to be a complete dumb asswipe………… "DID U GET A FLU FROM THE DIVING?"........ and she looked at me, completely perplexed, as tough she being a professor and a medical doctor had missed out on this amazing discovery that homosapiens are vulnerable to the flu after some bazaar diving activity........... she said…. "amm……NO…..*snicker* …… AM I SUPPOSE TO??.....
Oh god……..i felt like reaching out to the nearest urinal bowl and diving my head into it….. Did u get a flu from the diving????????? WTF??????? Who the f*** says that…. Oh….but then again ….i do……. I pulled a Katrina…. (To the other Katrina, no offence…. I'm sure u have great social skills)…


On another similar occasion, I bumped into Tunku Noor at the Aids Memorial Day. Tunku Noor is the daughter of Tunku Abdul Rahman, very sophisticated…. And I think she was carrying a LV bag…. Anyways, generally…. Someone with a high status…classy not to mention. She had recognized me because I've been working with her to develop some module related to my work.
So I was walking with Timmy ( cousin) thru the Aquaria and I hear someone calling out my name…… I turn around and I see Tunku Noor. Quite a pleasant lady, so I was delighted to bump into her….. Long pause, coz as usual…. I didn't know what to say apart from the fact that I was repeatedly thought to say "How are you?" by my kindergarten and primary school teachers……. So I stood there and smiled….. at least I got that one right…… Then suddenly……………………………………………………..
Keep in mind that the brains were not working…. Its either I have a really intelligent motor reflex system that is able to function without signals from my brain or….. hmm….. or…. I was just born to live the life of Katrina…..My hands stretched out to her and I gave her a hug, and a tap on her back….. Like a tap I would give to my dog Kuchimai to keep him calm….. to maintain her poise and dignity, she managed to transform my aggressive hug to one of those Queen of England's greeting methods….. she kissed the air near my cheek and made a funny noise… 'muah"…. And the second cheek… "muah"…. As I was removing my hands that were still hung around her back…. I saw the reflection of her pearl earrings, and then it hit me…. what i did I just do????????
All panic hit me….. I turned around at Timmy, hoping that he would create a bigger "impression" than me so that his mishap would outshine mine….. maybe pull down his pants and flash her as part of some voyeuristic cult ritual or something……… but all hope crumbled as Timmy ,clutching his own f***in Rm 2000 bag, reached out and gave Tunku Noor a pleasant "Salam"…. Why didn't I think of that…..
Oh god….. It bugged me the entire day….more so because I was suppose to meet her the next day for a meeting. Well, the moment came and went, and all was fine. Thank god she was clutching her LV bag on one hand and a bag of Starbucks coffee on the other and there was no space for me to reach out and embrace her or invade her personal space in any way….

Well…. They say that u can take an Indian out of an estate, but you can never take an estate out of an Indian…. Batu Arang really dug its way into my soul I guess……

I Remember

I remember going to school once, to visit brother when he was sick. As we walked towards him, his friends teased him, teased him of how his little sister was looking so awkward and odd beside her mother. An oversized pants, black and red stripes, my most favorite pants in the whole world. I like it when you walk beside me mum, I love curling up in-between your legs, where I felt safe, and nobody could see me. You didn’t realize mum, that people were laughing at me. Laughter did not necessarily equate joy in our world. Thank you mum, for sewing me that pretty yellow dress with that matching ribbon on my head, a few fears later when you could afford it. What vibrant colors.

I remember the days when it use to rain. Mum, you tied plastic bags over my only pair of shoe and one around my head. A few extra in my plastic-covered bag, just incase the ones on my feet tore. What a cold walk it use to be, I would play a game with myself. If I look close enough, I could see my big toe peaking out of my shoe underneath the red plastic bag. Thank you mum, for protecting me from the rain in the only way you could.

I remember , how we use to wait once a month, for the milk man to arrive. You pre-order your milk a week before, and when the truck arrives, the teacher would call out your name during class for you to step out and collect your share. I remember the milk box, dark brown and white. With drawings of children on the front. Inside the box is what brings sweetness to the lips, how I wished it was my lips that tasted it. But its ok, mum, I loved your coffee better, the ones I use to steal while you were busy raking the garden. Thank you for that heavenly bitter-sweet taste on my lips.

I remember sports time during school, students were required to wear appropriate clothes in order to take part. Teachers were quite strict. All my friends would have so much of fun, playing ball or running the field. ‘I forgot my clothes teacher”, week after week. Punished I was, for being the forgetful kid. How I wished I had pants to wear, to join the others while they played like children did. But mum, I loved climbing that jambu tree at home, and catching mosquitoes every evening, oh, and not to forget… peeping at the old lady opposite our house that refused to die even though we all knew that her time was long due. Thank you mum, for playing with me, I remember all your tricks, but I hated it when you sat on me and tickled me.

I don’t remember having a piggy bank till I was 9. Mum, was it because we didn’t have any spare change? 5 cents for purple colored water, and 15 cents for nasi lemak. Nothing more, or nothing less. I treated myself to pop ice sometimes, 5 cents, twist it in half, shared with my best friend. If I skip my nasi lemak for two weeks, I get to buy nyam nyam; my most favorite food in the whole world. Thank you mum, I never was hungry sitting in my classroom.

I remember going to Auntie’s house once a year for Christmas. We didn’t have a car like the others, squeeze in wherever we could, in between your legs mum, was my special place. What a different world out there. I have never seen so many colors on a dress before. The flowers on my dress seemed almost white, I suppose it was vibrant when they wore it last Christmas. How pretty it looked on the other children.

Auntie’s fridge was my like a magic box. Chocolate milk, mango Juice, biscuits…. food fit for a king. So sweet tasting. I remember aunty looking at me eat in amusement, like a dog being given a bone. How I savored every little Koko Crunch, stuffed my pockets with cookies, and stop for a gulp of juice every time I passed by the fridge.

Off to church it was at night. So many people, but I felt safe beside you mum. I wouldn’t know what to do, all the other children would be reciting the prayers by heart, I remember moving my lips a few seconds late, just to fit in.

I hated gift exchanging time. All those presents under auntie’s beautiful standing Christmas tree, with beautiful beautiful shiny decoration. A new tree each year. A bigger one each year. How thoughtful of aunty, we were always gifted with luxurious presents. A stuffed toy for me each year, for I am the youngest out of all the rest. I remember the look on your face mum, you were one never to receive, always giving, but Christmas was the time when you were blessed. But I know that look on your face, humble and humiliated, because there was none to offer back.

How uncle use to pass around the presents, reading out the names of the givers, but your name was never to be called. It’s OK mum, I understand. Thank you for pulling me aside, with tears in your eyes, and telling me how much you would have wanted to buy me something nice. I enjoyed that little time with you alone mum, the secrets you told me made me feel like the most special one around.

I remember, being so happy. I remember being loved. I remember being yours. I remember feeling like a princess in our little castle. To tell you the truth mum, these were the best days of my life. I wouldn’t change a thing if I had the chance. Thank you for my values, thank you for my love, thank you for my content, thank you for giving me your all.

Happy Dust

Should you feel an urge to make a change
in this world, learn what makes you happy,
and let your passion guide your path.