tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65040596324542331632024-03-10T02:47:25.518+00:00Anak si HamidJust a former schoolmarm and unrepentant maverick. Though I'm 77, I'm too bolshie to metamorphose into a sweet little old lady. anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.comBlogger610125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-77438604289156965612024-02-27T10:58:00.022+00:002024-02-27T11:04:37.677+00:00Malaya Merdeka - from Ash's vinyl collection<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwUJOSHzFkDi7sVUT4Q8pT2qlXM9MNk8wQ0zhyq6nFW-TByvhfesm1b7SpVuCMlJDiTDwpeECeiiM7mAdB76A' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> Click the video twice.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>A treasured part of Malay history for an octogenarian.</div><div><br /></div>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-64061306458144221472024-02-27T10:13:00.010+00:002024-02-27T10:32:46.394+00:00Seventy Five Years Ago.<p> I am now an octogenarian.</p><p><br /></p><p>This "kacang tak akan lupakan kulit" (this pea has not forgotten its pod).</p><p><br /></p><p><b>A PICTURE BOOK OF THE POD.</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLvWj_3yUJ8sExMBwTTdIqNvjWP0kmg6lCrTu1vlQQHKYTgw0ApHYkWiFGPh0wwR3miq4nrAfymhiFslIYhohbYFTurwAMeRyCh4gfpXE-TA8F-hpkXz3u2phVhRf0vbhnCl5ARL112ZTlOcGUyBjD0-GH3x2pRbgWzOlK6kDVkjWGNonT7zVEL3aESEl/s3101/38-39%20-%20Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2281" data-original-width="3101" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLvWj_3yUJ8sExMBwTTdIqNvjWP0kmg6lCrTu1vlQQHKYTgw0ApHYkWiFGPh0wwR3miq4nrAfymhiFslIYhohbYFTurwAMeRyCh4gfpXE-TA8F-hpkXz3u2phVhRf0vbhnCl5ARL112ZTlOcGUyBjD0-GH3x2pRbgWzOlK6kDVkjWGNonT7zVEL3aESEl/w640-h470/38-39%20-%20Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmac1uMk6XgK9YTo2B8HoTl5_twiBNN1Tq6s2se0BCUPaxFV-Eb86Ii5PfqHI4pCnzOteQk3n1iMwbkLU5wyfzC_eglEdzZSyDCQINNNJ4FZ1bVqicXzaTsCWqnT-vHZIei4B2_slUpV_u4i5udxFJDGoe5kcTJfvd8ljaTCpMoWNjWvfIgmFVAaKzEdA2/s3128/42-43%20-%20Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2255" data-original-width="3128" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmac1uMk6XgK9YTo2B8HoTl5_twiBNN1Tq6s2se0BCUPaxFV-Eb86Ii5PfqHI4pCnzOteQk3n1iMwbkLU5wyfzC_eglEdzZSyDCQINNNJ4FZ1bVqicXzaTsCWqnT-vHZIei4B2_slUpV_u4i5udxFJDGoe5kcTJfvd8ljaTCpMoWNjWvfIgmFVAaKzEdA2/w640-h462/42-43%20-%20Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So, what has infected our long beans, broad beans, stink beans, green kidney beans, sword beans, winged beans, and wanna-beans since the 1950s?</div><div><br /></div><div>The Chinese are proud of their 5,000 year old history/culture. The Malays' pea-brains cannot even cope with 75 years.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5cA24preNwXm3EdjdPClFRDxEaA4REyBJLJffW6j0Y1Cb-9qyfFn_AlCycM1Vjq_b3S116GEaZeMkwMvuBl3-qnX-sByCPDhui67fd-qw4XX8WdrCgC4z_vXbaWCh3HR6pUXXYRC80OJ0cNmuMA3IUcZXhaNEVqhvSu88OBtGFG9_Ni-mQOia1obX5oP/s1056/For%20Want%20of%20Integrity.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="869" data-original-width="1056" height="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5cA24preNwXm3EdjdPClFRDxEaA4REyBJLJffW6j0Y1Cb-9qyfFn_AlCycM1Vjq_b3S116GEaZeMkwMvuBl3-qnX-sByCPDhui67fd-qw4XX8WdrCgC4z_vXbaWCh3HR6pUXXYRC80OJ0cNmuMA3IUcZXhaNEVqhvSu88OBtGFG9_Ni-mQOia1obX5oP/w640-h526/For%20Want%20of%20Integrity.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-66279709652133558612023-11-02T06:49:00.002+00:002023-11-02T06:55:05.976+00:00Buchanan's Wife - Jottings 2. Why and When ??<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zZvgzSGvFlI" width="320" youtube-src-id="zZvgzSGvFlI"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Today, my dear friend Siti and a kindred spirit, sent me this video clip, amongst many others earlier; ever since the latest assault on Palestine. Forget about names like West Bank and Gaza Strip. Call a spade a spade as before 1945. It has been and will always be Palestine.</p><p>[Just like Semenanjung Tanah Melayu and not Federated Malay States, the Straits Settlements, and the Unfederated Malay States .... and many other 'creative' name plates given by the British to the Malay Peninsula.]</p><p>Do give a glance at <a href="https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2021/10/id-love-to-turn-you-on-holey-history-of.html">https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2021/10/id-love-to-turn-you-on-holey-history-of.html</a></p><p>Shall I go on? </p><p>But first a CAVEAT.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTRI2fO8giJO6za-w42qGOQdFgNUmpCOYmSVl5RNgDt-PJEAa-QdTTd_ErzeCZBR1rm8D2uRTC4i0TWC86yWhHQD_ilaccs4_j3fcsd8AagX2vPw_P7aU9J8YrxQA9grkiDqpcRKL93smWwbW_Q8HI-6wsHu8yw-wmmlYSr_nji10i5IiNcyhbXPiE1LsK/s902/Siti%201.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="430" data-original-width="902" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTRI2fO8giJO6za-w42qGOQdFgNUmpCOYmSVl5RNgDt-PJEAa-QdTTd_ErzeCZBR1rm8D2uRTC4i0TWC86yWhHQD_ilaccs4_j3fcsd8AagX2vPw_P7aU9J8YrxQA9grkiDqpcRKL93smWwbW_Q8HI-6wsHu8yw-wmmlYSr_nji10i5IiNcyhbXPiE1LsK/w640-h306/Siti%201.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Chris is Siti's other half. He suffers from COPD ( Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease). He spent several years teaching English in the West Bank.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p> Check <a href="https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2021/05/remember-me-no-1.html">https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2021/05/remember-me-no-1.html</a></p><p><br /></p><p>Here's hoping this posting will not suffer the fate of my previous posting 😓.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4VJhYCYAtFHfowldbhUaSAHcH3XLsM3cWWv5Wv3i1pmNdlzrUb1n-L5t_V5AkNrMbpbwKeRjsDncPSWvA0idb_C976pea28xUlKFatQYL-FKE5kAJGMi32DXL4ZQqRIj-OMa4tUv2fwskQbV_1RtWj7nS4E9nIgZ9PGyDab5LE0x8yWfnUtyQPPo6Ymd/s989/Siti%203.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="833" data-original-width="989" height="541" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4VJhYCYAtFHfowldbhUaSAHcH3XLsM3cWWv5Wv3i1pmNdlzrUb1n-L5t_V5AkNrMbpbwKeRjsDncPSWvA0idb_C976pea28xUlKFatQYL-FKE5kAJGMi32DXL4ZQqRIj-OMa4tUv2fwskQbV_1RtWj7nS4E9nIgZ9PGyDab5LE0x8yWfnUtyQPPo6Ymd/w640-h541/Siti%203.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><b>All I can say to dear Siti ......</b></p><p><b>Siti, I hate it, I hate it. The hypocrisy and double standards of the Western/Christian/Zionist Lobby is despicable.</b></p><p><b>There are people much younger than us today who will find this atrocious and unacceptable, and will dedicate themselves to giving voice to the powerless and afflicted.</b></p><p><b>But 30 to 40 years from now, I dearly hope they will not end up like me (and Iain if he is still with us today), holding their heads in their hands and crying out, " Why? Wny? When will this end? </b></p><p><b>You are much younger than us two - you will carry on.</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cAe1lVDbLf0" width="320" youtube-src-id="cAe1lVDbLf0"></iframe></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-45442286714157334182023-10-20T10:47:00.043+01:002023-10-24T08:58:52.039+01:00Buchanan's Wife - Jottings 1<p> </p><p><b><u><span style="font-size: large;">5.22 am - Leicester</span></u></b></p><p><b><u><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></u></b></p><p><b></b></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjap88HxlBSjXYZ9eWxvUzRfpnfG1MFQJ0H5CvdwsBXlG4AuEgbcI3EoOQjz5bkUAkIcCagFNuxclrl2IOCaAwbIvRWUg3KOHJlbez-FKtEKEqCKr6q6Ds5sFWukInUUUDjFGBUdDblgzZx6Vry_Kc76pz0DZ_9MLq2CUk8ezCnBX6aS1U5CBMVoxonwaZt/w300-h400/20231020_121742.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Autumn rain at 5.22 am from my window, Leicester.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b></b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: bold; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6IVFm0LNr1yvG0JZtWuY5EzM2pU0rztGqNevoVBwMEFo04jWJhqeMCxPoonkpYawGwnegzrdEEhnmvoQZ3ZUJQD2BjY85hx2DafmqPpszNOsPc90xqoi8-D1WeHYQBIkxT0py9Z-2fH3Jqv1lyui_4sxri5m4N-Crzmc-d_3dANGFEqWcQjvKAYq2GEkG/s4096/20231020_121908.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6IVFm0LNr1yvG0JZtWuY5EzM2pU0rztGqNevoVBwMEFo04jWJhqeMCxPoonkpYawGwnegzrdEEhnmvoQZ3ZUJQD2BjY85hx2DafmqPpszNOsPc90xqoi8-D1WeHYQBIkxT0py9Z-2fH3Jqv1lyui_4sxri5m4N-Crzmc-d_3dANGFEqWcQjvKAYq2GEkG/s320/20231020_121908.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Early morning cuppa and orange/almond cake.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><span>In two days, at this time, Ash will be on the M1 on her way to Heathrow for another 13-hour journey to KLIA.</span><p></p><p><span>I have this album by Mark Lindsay given to me by my late brother Akim when I moved to Brunei in 1978 to earn my living and escape the oppressive world of teaching in Singapore. I remember this one song (though not my favourite) 'The Man from Houston'.</span></p><p><span>This time, on this journey which I have been doing since 1985 with Iain (at least twice a year) I will be treading a new frontier. From now on this will be a solo trip, just like when I departed KLIA for LHR in August this year. Just like some previous arrivals at LHR or KLIA I can depend on him to be waiting.</span></p><p><span>From now on, on every arrival, I will be wondering ......</span></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="color: #2b00fe;">why there ain't nobody here to meet me</span></li><li><span style="color: #2b00fe;">I wonder why there's no one here to greet me with a kiss</span></li><li><span style="color: #2b00fe;">tell me everything's all right</span></li><li><span style="color: #2b00fe;">and boy I sure missed you</span></li><li><span style="color: #2b00fe;">and please don't stay away so long next time </span></li><li><span style="color: #2b00fe;">... and oooh I love you .</span></li></ul><div><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span></div><div>That's as far as it goes for me. The rest is for Shah,( my late brother Mus' son )for whenever he has to leave his wife and kids behind when he's away on Company Business.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/nFjs9p1RyhA" width="320" youtube-src-id="nFjs9p1RyhA"></iframe></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Memories of Leicester to take back include the warmth, love and kindness of friends like Jackie and Julia, Jagdish and Punam, Deanna, John, at Leicester Animal Rescue, Naseema our neighbour and Mohammad and Moriom our good neighbour who live just next door, for Siti, a dear friend from Malaysia who, with her lovely daughters Sara and Hana came all the way from London to keep me company in Leicester. And finally, some last words from our dearest and kindest of friends - Colin Brooks.</div><div><br /></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><u>A conversation with Colin, our dear friend in Leicester</u></b></span></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqlYPCUlC8zhrGvasGaXSNhlmZbwEa-3g5qFkSz2eelzPq_MGUfyLKprb274Xk1EQK54fdjn3qFmOzQAdxF3GItN9pEGYsNy_8DBbQmSEz8B6jHM8lAN08YGclVSo0hOjM-pyDuRuc0SoxxvvRv-9UyBV5ETf7Atw-ItmgJBucVlvoBzxnt8W7pm6SZVti/s571/Combi%201%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="571" data-original-width="200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqlYPCUlC8zhrGvasGaXSNhlmZbwEa-3g5qFkSz2eelzPq_MGUfyLKprb274Xk1EQK54fdjn3qFmOzQAdxF3GItN9pEGYsNy_8DBbQmSEz8B6jHM8lAN08YGclVSo0hOjM-pyDuRuc0SoxxvvRv-9UyBV5ETf7Atw-ItmgJBucVlvoBzxnt8W7pm6SZVti/w224-h640/Combi%201%20(1).jpg" width="224" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Colin - my version</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtLPEQz_v5tjTddF2pUybhm95uS17N5buV6vP-nLwPEC40GqEhT_Q1htLCAUtRXoq24HWSwm49bUxUvKgKhI_Au1bswZDpqdXqQqYgYyGHsPkCBkPd6beqCQR3HhXWVqB13c7ACjDN1uOcP9L_Tym0_xN2Y-IBAIxrfrTdRvOzOVK8UBprgKSnFXKr6He/s2487/23082022120728-0002.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1349" data-original-width="2487" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtLPEQz_v5tjTddF2pUybhm95uS17N5buV6vP-nLwPEC40GqEhT_Q1htLCAUtRXoq24HWSwm49bUxUvKgKhI_Au1bswZDpqdXqQqYgYyGHsPkCBkPd6beqCQR3HhXWVqB13c7ACjDN1uOcP9L_Tym0_xN2Y-IBAIxrfrTdRvOzOVK8UBprgKSnFXKr6He/w640-h348/23082022120728-0002.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Iain's view and mine as well</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><b>On Sunday 15 October .</b></p><p>BW - Colin, can we make it on Tuesday after 3? Am dealing with Council and the solicitors for the Will.</p><p>COLIN - Sorry, that's the day I'm in Northampton.</p><p>BW - What about Wed afternoon?</p><p>COLIN - Yes, that's fine. What time does the Queen of the Orient command my presence?</p><p>BW - Afternoon at 2-3 says the Dowager Queen if that's okay with the Grand Vizier.</p><p>COLIN - Your wish is my command.</p><p>BW - I shall command the glass carriage to transport you, to avoid the Cycle Lane and leave a trail of horse poo for the Council to clean up for the gardens of the Green Brigade.</p><p>COLIN - I can remember ladies rushing out with buckets to collect horse poo dropped in the road by the milkman. Well not really the milkman, his horse! Perfect food for the rhubarb. The poo, not the milkman!</p><p>BW - We do share mind-boggling knowledge. Iain would really approve of this!</p><p>COLIN - It's amazing how conversation seems to distil down to good honest s**t! 😀 </p><p>Yes I miss talking to Iain. He leaves a gap in life no one else comes close to filling. His wife isn't a bad cook though.😃</p><p><br /></p><p><b>On Thursday 19 October</b></p><p>BW - A confession Colin. I ate 5 pieces of your Lindt chocolate. Yummy! </p><p> I recall what you said Colin; of saying goodbye to someone who is not there.</p><p>To comfort me , my late brother Mus (when he was still with us) reminded me of a quote from Wordsworth. "Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the grass ....... we will grieve not but rather find strength in what remains behind." {He was a strong shoulder for me to lean on, the last of the four most loved men in my life.}</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Mux8XP5aLb9TLG4tUyqiuTgD0RTftRPXVd_HRbMzGxRCqjfV0VmThlBBluArxVMri51T5gXMy8nT8NcPbYuKCinxRarpdi5WIKJWrI_DWmpUzsiLAinzd6Ldq60RfwB7aLL2RxnbkDRXB171aJOIVa9HmXFXDpe1RKpnJZzJjn80HW7-qLaQnVA7fFqM/s3072/IMG_0249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3072" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Mux8XP5aLb9TLG4tUyqiuTgD0RTftRPXVd_HRbMzGxRCqjfV0VmThlBBluArxVMri51T5gXMy8nT8NcPbYuKCinxRarpdi5WIKJWrI_DWmpUzsiLAinzd6Ldq60RfwB7aLL2RxnbkDRXB171aJOIVa9HmXFXDpe1RKpnJZzJjn80HW7-qLaQnVA7fFqM/w640-h480/IMG_0249.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Departed in 2023 - the last two of my most and well-loved men.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>The strength is something I can sustain, but the grieving is relentless. Thank you Colin (and this I know he would repeat to you if he could) for being there and for being you.</p><p>Take care of yourself and look after your diet, England expects every man to do his duty.</p><p>See you in Spring, God be willing.</p><p>From the Oriental Queen of Leicester.</p><p><br /></p><p>COLIN - Wordsworth's words recited by a Malaysian Malay man. What a wonderful thought that he used English literature to describe the world.</p><p>Grieving lessens but never fades. Ironically, without its presence we would forget those we love. So fortunately every negative event has an equal positive.</p><p>I too miss Iain. There was someting deep inside that I related too. I hope your journey is not too daunting and remember that England and Leicester awaits to welcome its Queen once again.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/feLT7Btuqpc" width="320" youtube-src-id="feLT7Btuqpc"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div><p>PS : The Brook by Alfred, Lord Tennyson for another Brook - the namesake Colin Brooks.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAiRJg36NpEBNOcCY5Kv789KP0O4fhm97nIwxAR62pIBZTxq-SlFni6CXhVV2d3Pe3zrFLekBRir350wXkcJFrXWL2p7wcfIM1Wz9D97VMXkGvU7lPxh8HG7QMH_yYcWxuU8J9Kcrt5m7hLngSegrnYWO3FN-xrFctz_WGByTifAeiAWMMKQ0Sgd3CxqDd/s508/Capture.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="494" data-original-width="508" height="622" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAiRJg36NpEBNOcCY5Kv789KP0O4fhm97nIwxAR62pIBZTxq-SlFni6CXhVV2d3Pe3zrFLekBRir350wXkcJFrXWL2p7wcfIM1Wz9D97VMXkGvU7lPxh8HG7QMH_yYcWxuU8J9Kcrt5m7hLngSegrnYWO3FN-xrFctz_WGByTifAeiAWMMKQ0Sgd3CxqDd/w640-h622/Capture.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>An extract from The Brook by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: underline;"><br /></span></p>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-38111554345257331732023-05-10T09:05:00.001+01:002023-05-10T09:33:39.935+01:00The Atom in my life.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoyK8_gx1Ch6RF1JRIq54sU47leWPgWvUbFkotrcYWRTZrpZjVpwMgWLVgRGe7bqJTfkUZfpO-mtJiLyGRCREEe_6X-m6XIx11pb7w5uAvz5dCRe24CUcXelkndIHWrFY6W3wgu0iv2dWzW6GhtB6-CtBL03taq9IoSyxGmDy8x2WFrqtb3RH05Ww73Q/s1680/img621%20-%20Copy%20(4)%20-%20Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="906" data-original-width="1680" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoyK8_gx1Ch6RF1JRIq54sU47leWPgWvUbFkotrcYWRTZrpZjVpwMgWLVgRGe7bqJTfkUZfpO-mtJiLyGRCREEe_6X-m6XIx11pb7w5uAvz5dCRe24CUcXelkndIHWrFY6W3wgu0iv2dWzW6GhtB6-CtBL03taq9IoSyxGmDy8x2WFrqtb3RH05Ww73Q/w640-h346/img621%20-%20Copy%20(4)%20-%20Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlsZm7GIvKX8RgiRQupESDL2jf7SlNE-Xx7LlTfLg5wcFc2_8YcT7jfiFehgoBRIUdc--p3LtYkfoxYjWWJ1DpciMBtGFHtPmRVo25m4TEpYW1gHD6Yh1sZecbnxzvxD12mzu7pFeleOPE5xNxaDI5nzmA5xVemPKQsxGTHTPmiuUvykQYjk4AdvWa0Q/s1102/Atom%20preferred%20-%20Copy.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="791" data-original-width="1102" height="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlsZm7GIvKX8RgiRQupESDL2jf7SlNE-Xx7LlTfLg5wcFc2_8YcT7jfiFehgoBRIUdc--p3LtYkfoxYjWWJ1DpciMBtGFHtPmRVo25m4TEpYW1gHD6Yh1sZecbnxzvxD12mzu7pFeleOPE5xNxaDI5nzmA5xVemPKQsxGTHTPmiuUvykQYjk4AdvWa0Q/w640-h460/Atom%20preferred%20-%20Copy.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglYfxJZWeQu5CyFNuRhwKZLw3gGgC2duCq8mYoL8UCZyn9YxPOmKeIYOs93zbvn203-kqxIwfAu8e219UYu3XyMKj6diOVVbVcVkEyewaCtnTdxvtBD1TXeL8r8E_34Ml1vH1AIfAWZce7fYWZeSFTu7825sdJCKb-rXsUaKLsnaf9hoY7sOdu8UMNag/s1759/Scan%2010271%20-%20Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1190" data-original-width="1759" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglYfxJZWeQu5CyFNuRhwKZLw3gGgC2duCq8mYoL8UCZyn9YxPOmKeIYOs93zbvn203-kqxIwfAu8e219UYu3XyMKj6diOVVbVcVkEyewaCtnTdxvtBD1TXeL8r8E_34Ml1vH1AIfAWZce7fYWZeSFTu7825sdJCKb-rXsUaKLsnaf9hoY7sOdu8UMNag/w640-h432/Scan%2010271%20-%20Copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/GSWIDPrubVE" width="320" youtube-src-id="GSWIDPrubVE"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-23718733075959332962023-01-10T01:03:00.003+00:002023-01-10T01:16:54.321+00:00Our Cool Dude.<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Din sent me this message yesterday.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>"I wish I had more words to say for that beautiful man of yours, Ms Hamid."</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Also yesterday, Dr Chandra Muzaffar kindly wrote this tribute to Iain Buchanan.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <b>THE PASSING OF IAIN BUCHANAN </b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirk0j5JO1cmQoR-ecczrTupysTQl6AkSJ8hpKdKi4fAbBiwwwAWoiIGSVQd6_fbCNJXGu9E7r2LJui2b2JWqScunthKPy_Ksen1UeRZtj7Wmw2PEjT5yHTy4_Ldp2ZTy8DTOp7LjYJcHcwkgpvUNl-ZD1P_AfYc8-MbIseDL17pukGoYopGPMyqcCHEg/s3312/M1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2339" data-original-width="3312" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirk0j5JO1cmQoR-ecczrTupysTQl6AkSJ8hpKdKi4fAbBiwwwAWoiIGSVQd6_fbCNJXGu9E7r2LJui2b2JWqScunthKPy_Ksen1UeRZtj7Wmw2PEjT5yHTy4_Ldp2ZTy8DTOp7LjYJcHcwkgpvUNl-ZD1P_AfYc8-MbIseDL17pukGoYopGPMyqcCHEg/w640-h452/M1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Thank you very much Chandra. He would have especially loved your reference to 'humane' and not just 'human' values. More and more we both realise that most of the time humans cause a great deal of damage to the planet with their greed and ethos of profit and enterprise. In being humane we include the protection and survival of our trees, rivers, oceans and 'all creatures great and small' but for Iain, especially trees.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Just a little slip. He departed very quickly, of a heart attack on Sunday 8th January 2023 while we were on the way to hospital.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Early this morning , I sent this photograph to Bride, my sister-in-law in New Zealand. </span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiv8lcMuo2hc8GdkvkQGbgX1Twlx8m-L9nkZMoF5LjONzBmIHP9jeKbzkVP_HKzRhyNeTGKEnkR-kpk6Xw-LCW9EfNYuRrRlp06nihbMG6P6PPq8rJahsY-EoIrrYzWN7o54Itd3d0-QHp3YXiwI4qEvl5YtPmOD3OJ7yVuwCT-fOPwy1P8g191P9Kg/s4000/Graves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiv8lcMuo2hc8GdkvkQGbgX1Twlx8m-L9nkZMoF5LjONzBmIHP9jeKbzkVP_HKzRhyNeTGKEnkR-kpk6Xw-LCW9EfNYuRrRlp06nihbMG6P6PPq8rJahsY-EoIrrYzWN7o54Itd3d0-QHp3YXiwI4qEvl5YtPmOD3OJ7yVuwCT-fOPwy1P8g191P9Kg/w300-h400/Graves.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>AsH </b>Dear Bride. Here's Iain's final resting place with our favourite Banjaran Titiwangsa in the far distance." </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Bride </b>That is a lovely setting. The one with the flowers all over it? How are you doing Maz? </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>AsH </b> Yes, that's where my maddeningly 'beautiful' ole git is enjoying his snooze before his Malay tart arrives. I am still expecting him to come downstairs, make me my coffee/tea. (he 's a fabulous beverage manager) albeit after getting an earful of cussing and threats. After that he will nestle in his rocking chair, gaze at the birds and tree-shrews and perhaps Mr Toad - in his unkempt garden, then shuffle about in the chair to settle Comot and Socks on his lap, pick up the mobile and get the news and lovely pictures of NZ from his crabby little sister.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Bride </b>You're back on form Maz. Yeah! And I'll miss all those little calls asking odd questions I'd never have the answer to. I hope you can find a new equilibrium and comfort space.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">I just sent these to Keith he asked if I'd sent to you. I have sent to Iain in the past (<span style="color: #2b00fe;">yes we have but he has tucked it away where I can't find it - because it's a handy tool for blackmail</span>) but as he died on Elvis's birthday they are probably rocking' on down somewhere rather than getting on with the housework!</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOZlm1qm7xdIv0V6xheO6vaxkAYU-PrYp4qal8w7furRb8Q8vFsKuMNgxIiw11hozxsQNifa63r3PKaGp0ztP4KbsDGRcNhDdSKmQ5GVl5amB73L4M0EzD6jsKj0JAy9Xfqv0eqVwFAzztrikx3zLswUaL4Ec8wh3YAWxrwdwSsZOFmmhR0W3kD-LkA/s2048/Cool%20Dude%201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOZlm1qm7xdIv0V6xheO6vaxkAYU-PrYp4qal8w7furRb8Q8vFsKuMNgxIiw11hozxsQNifa63r3PKaGp0ztP4KbsDGRcNhDdSKmQ5GVl5amB73L4M0EzD6jsKj0JAy9Xfqv0eqVwFAzztrikx3zLswUaL4Ec8wh3YAWxrwdwSsZOFmmhR0W3kD-LkA/w480-h640/Cool%20Dude%201.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMg0lSfb8tlATUpZ6mP-v0lxGAVEEKgT0MFG_tKavkixB7mbmNewjxrZ3fLvmXBx6iUxBXdOONI_YZrTrubXBshrFVMMs6LbaCRWkEPxBKajk_EnqcRIPp4agkixwuUl7_mtEllZgoDdhgioq9Il_NB0iK40svsZ-x3F9ZQ_XGNXhSMZ40Qj6KIqwmuw/s2048/Cool%20Dude%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMg0lSfb8tlATUpZ6mP-v0lxGAVEEKgT0MFG_tKavkixB7mbmNewjxrZ3fLvmXBx6iUxBXdOONI_YZrTrubXBshrFVMMs6LbaCRWkEPxBKajk_EnqcRIPp4agkixwuUl7_mtEllZgoDdhgioq9Il_NB0iK40svsZ-x3F9ZQ_XGNXhSMZ40Qj6KIqwmuw/w480-h640/Cool%20Dude%202.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>AsH </b> Cool man! Ree</span><span style="font-size: large;">l cool.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Bride </b>What a dude eh?</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>AsH </b>Indeed! Your lovable, wacky brother, my beloved pain-in-the-everywhere and soul-mate and Keith's l</span><span style="font-size: large;">oving dude of a Dad.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Rock on sweetheart!!! We miss you but look out for bus number 104319 and keep the kettle on warm.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Al Fatehah.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p></div></div></div>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-9015019794379757272022-11-19T11:32:00.002+00:002022-11-19T12:52:27.863+00:00Semangat 44 and a Grumpy Old Woman<p>For the record, I am a member of that transitional generation that could sing God Save The King/Queen, Majulah Singapura and Negara Ku with gusto and pleasure and several dashes of pride.</p><p>In 1951 I was seven years old and at Pasir Panjang English School in Singapore. Here we were taught God Save The King (King George VI) - which, in 1953, became God Save The Queen (Queen Elizabeth II). In 1959, when I was 15, Singapore attained self-government and Majulah Singapura took the place of the British anthem. Came September 1963, Singapore merged with Malaysia and I added Negara Ku to my repertoire. Then it was back to Majulah Singapura on 9 August 1965 when Singapore was expelled and became an independent Republic.</p><p>But Negara Ku was never an unfamiliar, foreign anthem in our family or in many other Malay families in Singapore. The family of Abdul Hamid bin Jala/Jaleh never saw themselves as being Malay as defined by shifting politics - sometime Malayan, sometime Singaporean, sometime Malaysian! No. We were Malays defined by much more than that - by a shared history, a shared tradition and culture, and a shared religion. We were simply Malays, from an island and a peninsula in the one Malay world. BUT THAT WAS THEN!</p><p>It is hard to wean myself away from all those past anthems in my head and my psyche. In 1974 (when I was 30), my two native English companions had to pull me out of the cinema because God Save The Queen was playing at the end of the movie and I had automatically stood up to attention. Everybody else in the theatre were scrambling out!! How do you delete a song which which has been embedded into your head from the tender age of 7/8 years old!</p><p>In 2009, when I finally became a Rakyat Malaysia, as my Abah had wanted me to do since 1968, Negara Ku was not alien to me at all - it is like what my dear Emak would describe as familiar as "<i>air mand</i>i". But when I hear Majulah Singapura, I respond to it with a respectful nostalgia - as a Malay from Singapore. <b><i>" Tempat jatuh lagi di kenang. Ini kan lagi tempat bermain".</i></b></p><p>That is a long preamble to my posting today - Malaysia's 15th General Election. I did my duty for GE 14. It is a duty that I regard with great seriousness. But I had to weigh my responsibility as a rakyat with my need to look after the health of 78-year-old AsH and her octogenarian spouse. Four months ago both of us had a bad dose of Covid, and the ramifications of that on our health and well-being and our work were horrendous. I looked to the spouse, to a good friend on our street, Fadzil and to Zaini a comrade-of-like-mind to help me to a decision. So, I shall carry on with this posting knowing that I will be risk-free, InsyaAllah, to carry on with our "vocation".</p><p>This morning, on our way to breakfast I took a few photographic souvenirs of GE 15. I should have been snapping the election banners before today when they were all glowing and blowing in all their splendour on those bright sunny days. There was an obvious coincidence of a predominance of blues - UMNO/Barisan and Perikatan Nasional banners in less well-off areas and in Malay areas. I noted more reds in the more upmarket residences. A caveat though - this is only what I notice in and around where I live.</p><p>What would my father (1910-1974) have thought of this and all other elections and the plight of his <i>Tanah Air</i> today?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoRfqVynGLyXavFmZVleOTJ5n5nW_Ij--pSGweyr-s7vCu1B_God6PrJv_OmpeLP35uy9HKEFEJMM0fjK79qSYC1MFlyx3APCPWUA3ws1I7m9NfK9ZXRsL3aBs9Jv8vuZH6qY5OQtvdXGoCKDUSOp0-cRY0HbFFrf_mw3pUoVftIscKQE-2ikP9LiJg/s1807/UMNO%20Meeting%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1568" data-original-width="1807" height="556" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoRfqVynGLyXavFmZVleOTJ5n5nW_Ij--pSGweyr-s7vCu1B_God6PrJv_OmpeLP35uy9HKEFEJMM0fjK79qSYC1MFlyx3APCPWUA3ws1I7m9NfK9ZXRsL3aBs9Jv8vuZH6qY5OQtvdXGoCKDUSOp0-cRY0HbFFrf_mw3pUoVftIscKQE-2ikP9LiJg/w640-h556/UMNO%20Meeting%20(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Abah and all his friends had such hopes for their <i>Tanah Air</i> . I saw my father's tears when, on 31 August 1957, we were all listening on the radio to Tunku Abdul Rahman calling out "Merdeka! Merdeka! Merdeka!" It was the declaration of independence for Persekutuan Tanah Melayu. </p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Jual sayor jual keladi</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Dedala api chambah di-batang</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Biar-lah hanchor biar lah mati.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Ta'mahu lagi di-jajah orang.</b></span></p><p>"Why are you crying?" I asked my father. "I am happy for my country but I also fear for her future."</p><p><b style="font-size: large;">Baju baharu kain bertekat.</b></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Baju belah pakai kerosang;</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Bersatu padu kuat sa-ikat'</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Kalau berpechah di-makan orang.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Tanah merah tanah-nya liat'</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buat menimbun tambak negeri;</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Antara pemerentah dengan ra'ayat,</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Kebajikan umum hendak di-chari.</b></span></p><p>Looking at his <i>Tanah Air</i> today, Abah would once again be in tears - but now holding down his head in his hands in despair.</p><p>I have observed the political shenanigans going on in this nation for the past 13 years. I reckoned our "Malay-led backdoor government" did a remarkable job in pulling us out of the pandemic. We may not have been the best in the world, but we do have something to be proud of in the leadership and all the personnel that worked tirelessly for the country's salvation. For these personnel there were no rewards of titles, high dividends, generous bonus and profits for their hard work and sacrifice - only their sense of duty to their Tanah Air.</p><p>And yet, looking at the brouhaha and the innuendoes and the sleights-of-hand during this 2022 political campaigning, it is certain we have learned nothing at all after the pandemic.</p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buluh betung puchok-nya rapoh,</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Kuching puteh tangkap tekukur;</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Sa-puloh pun jong masok berlaboh,</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Anjing maseh berchawat ekor.</b></span></p><p>Every five years, we put up our democracy for show. We still believe in our rights and responsibilities as a rakyat of our <i>Tanah Air</i>. We have to keep on believing, even though :</p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Turun ka-sawah memakai tudong,</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Padi di-huma layu lengkesa;</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Sa-ekor sawa, sa-ekor tedong,</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Bersama2 mengadu bisa.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Kt981vK_NnQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="Kt981vK_NnQ"></iframe></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><b><br /></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>NB. The photograph above was taken in 1952/1953. All the pantun were taken from <u>Kalong Bunga Buku 1, DBP 1964</u> - hence the old spelling.</b></span></p><p><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><b>Abah, I have not left my country. I fear our country has left me.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-10974674662323337472022-11-09T13:40:00.005+00:002022-11-10T03:08:26.055+00:00si Hamid or AnaksiHamid ? <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWfFIBd37R9Xjk1Uir-R4sN-F56RdctfCeSiAwyInSxoemGvBWZCRbOW8IZWr7YgxFxR-yJf80cnRBu5WQY3vSyLFhnGS5mSezGwUL-dsKVhIE_9WrkywKlQhfVP715ZSGF9jxPilYijIXPMpe73o7HFNLsANT-KYbEtRXyHFBl9mkeauy3q4EtWiMWg/s1400/Zelda.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="203" data-original-width="1400" height="92" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWfFIBd37R9Xjk1Uir-R4sN-F56RdctfCeSiAwyInSxoemGvBWZCRbOW8IZWr7YgxFxR-yJf80cnRBu5WQY3vSyLFhnGS5mSezGwUL-dsKVhIE_9WrkywKlQhfVP715ZSGF9jxPilYijIXPMpe73o7HFNLsANT-KYbEtRXyHFBl9mkeauy3q4EtWiMWg/w640-h92/Zelda.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The above comment came into my blog a week or so ago. I shall oblige as much as I can.<br /><p>As for the the "state of the UK government", I think I have nowt to add. The UK's media, electronic and print, will be a better source than me. I only know the cost of heating this winter will go through the roof. But then, everything's gone up, hasn't it?</p><p>A dear Leicester friend signed off his recent email to us with "<b style="font-size: large;">kujdesuni" </b>and the spouse replied "<b style="font-size: large;">faleminderit".</b> Why? With 40,000 Albanians arriving as refugees(?), illegal immigrants(?), asylum seekers (?) in Britain this year from across the Channel in their dinghies, the Brits will have to start looking for Albanian-speaking interpreters. Unlike the case of minorities in Malaya, they will not be provided Albanian-language schools. But certainly words like "take care" and "thank you" (translation of the words above) will have to be part of the repertoire in schools, hospitals, job centres, social service providers etc. etc. in UK in the very near future.</p><p><b style="font-size: x-large;">BRITANNIA (DOES NOT) RULE THE WAVES!</b></p><p>Economically, Malaysia is perhaps faring better, despite the constant whingeing of the moaners and doom-mongers. And we always have them, don't we?</p><p>With regards to Rishi Sunak (Rashi Sanuk/Sunuk, according to Joe Biden), well, he's brought a lot of joy and pride to the hearts of India's PM Modi and many of its people. Even Indians in Malaysia (and local "other" liberals) are toying with the sentiment, "why can't we achieve the same, here in Malaysia?"</p><p>May I recommend this article by Pankaj Mishra in the Guardian? <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2022/oct/28/rishi-sunak-britain-first-hindu-prime-minister-destroying-tories-pitiful-vision-of-diversity">https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2022/oct/28/rishi-sunak-britain-first-hindu-prime-minister-destroying-tories-pitiful-vision-of-diversity</a></p><p>and by Mihir Bose <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2022/oct/26/rishi-sunak-tory-hindu-labour-conservative">https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2022/oct/26/rishi-sunak-tory-hindu-labour-conservative</a> </p><p>Just for a little quirky peek at the nature of democracy in UK (Malaysia, USA or anywhere else where "Democracy Rules OK") this image below symbolises the great reality of democracy.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7zp21Cz84Df3xALgBclUlxWBgFvUaP9XvnJxVidPqhn7Zow8f-LGFo-Z4P6Idig4QxGlMANOA6zi2BqidGv9CpbZnnpAV-sOhgTZ0IdskSj_0K9l003sFXuaD3ZPb58coHC8PHDCu5UxY3s9xN8XLuHO2lY8v1uS6UT4TsWZu-fOLaVBlVHGndPqL2g/s935/King%20Nd%20PM.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="636" data-original-width="935" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7zp21Cz84Df3xALgBclUlxWBgFvUaP9XvnJxVidPqhn7Zow8f-LGFo-Z4P6Idig4QxGlMANOA6zi2BqidGv9CpbZnnpAV-sOhgTZ0IdskSj_0K9l003sFXuaD3ZPb58coHC8PHDCu5UxY3s9xN8XLuHO2lY8v1uS6UT4TsWZu-fOLaVBlVHGndPqL2g/w640-h436/King%20Nd%20PM.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Okay, Zelda Supreme, that should answer your queries. </p><p>Now to the nub of today's posting.</p><p>Years ago - as soon as I started blogging - <b>Rockybru, </b> a former student of mine, coined the acronym <b>AsH </b>from<b> </b>my moniker "anaksihamid". Since then, commentators and readers of my Blog, and even friends, have referred to me as simply AsH. At times - and I feel quite chuffed - I am 'Kakak' or Auntie. Especially touching is when one of my readers, a professor, calls me "Cikgu". All we have in common is Leicester, my place of abode and where she spent some time as a post-grad student - and I never had the pride or pleasure of being her teacher! My former students from Singapore, including Rockybru, know me as "Miss Hamid." It should be Miss Maznoor, but then that's Singapore.</p><p><b>Hamid</b>, of course, is my father's name, and AnaksiHamid means the <b>"Child of Hamid". </b></p><p>Now Zelda Supreme addresses me with " <b>Hi Si hamid " - </b>the first time ever <i>that </i>moniker has been used. Well....perhaps I should clarify a couple of issues to some of my non-Malay readers and perhaps some Malays who have lost touch with the nomenclature of their mother tongue. </p><p>Firstly, this comment addressed to "Si hamid" will certainly get nowhere, because it is directed to my beloved late father! </p><p>Secondly, I think this will be an opportunity to narrate the reasons for my choice of this name for my Blog.</p><p>(A caveat: This is not AsH making a mountain out of a molehill. Most of my readers for the last 6-7 years - just over 90% - are not from Malaysia.. So, for them, I hope the following might shed a little light on Malay names and titles in the Semenanjung. Of course, a few Malaysians, too, might benefit!)</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Why AnaksiHamid?</u></b></span></p><p>Why did I choose the name AnaksiHamid? After all, 'Grumpy old Woman' (GOW), or 'Wicked Witch of the East' (WWE) suits me to a T. But I am the daughter of my mother Kamisah and Abdul Hamid my father. My father has always been the example that I try to live up to and who imparted to me the fortitude and the guts to be what I am today, what I have made of myself yesterday and what I might be tomorrow, InsyaAllah. </p><p>However, in Malay culture <b>'si'</b> is not a nice or kind word. It can be very dismissive of the the person referred to - it's almost a form of denigration and a term often used by a superior to an inferior. Basically, it means "that so and so", someone of little or no significance. At its best, it might bring an air of familiarity and perhaps a teeny-weeny bit of affection. But that is stretching its usage too far.</p><p>The impact of the word <b>'si' </b>can be illustrated from a little story of two visits to my paternal grandfather's house at Sungai Buloh. That first was in the late 1950s, maybe 1958. We were in our teens when Abah (father) took us to Paya Jaras, Sungai Buloh to visit his late father's house. It was a huge, sturdy kampung house, on such high stilts that our family car could be easily parked under the house. We had a great time playing under the house and roaming about the sawah and the coconut holdings with our cousins. And I remember a kitchen which had a unique built-in waist-level rack for drying plates and other kitchen utensils. It was constructed in such a way that the run-off water would trickle onto the ground outside. I wished we'd had something like that in our Pasir Panjang (Singapore) kampung house - leaving no messy drips on the kitchen floor. </p><p>But I recall something else very vividly. In a group photograph on the wall of my Abah's father's house, I pointed to a man who looked very familiar to me. I asked, "Abah, is that you? He replied, "No, that's your grandfather". I gasped and said nothing.</p><p>We also met Macik S (Auntie S) and her family who were living in the house. They were not well-off and her husband, if I recall correctly, had no waged full-time job. They led a self-sufficient hand-to-mouth existence - a common condition of the Malays in the kampungs in the Semenanjung during the 1950s and even later in the 60s and perhaps to the seventies. Their condition was very unlike the sojourners in the urban areas who had the benefits of education, housing and health facilities, as well as opportunities for a stable, salaried employment. All we knew about Macik S was this ; she was adopted as a child from a Chinese family by my grandfather. Being his 'sister', she called my Abah 'Abang Hamid', a respected and affectionate term.</p><p>On our way back to Kuala Lumpur, Abah made a stopover at our grandfather's grave. The graveyard, unlike our graveyards today, was overgrown and uncared for. It was here that Abah instructed all four of his children not to make any claim on his father's house, land, padi and coconut fields; although he had also apportioned part of the land for "Tanah Wakaf" (land donated for religious use - for cemeteries, building of mosques, etc).</p><p>The second visit was made by my sister and her husband in the early 1990s, about 30 years later. When the two of them retired from teaching, they decided to use the time available to re-connect with long-lost friends and relatives - to foster the spirit of <i>tali siratul-rahim </i>(bond of good-will). They managed, after a lot of queries and searching to locate the site of our grandfather's house. </p><p>But the kampung house was no more. It was now a typical <i>rumah batu </i>(brick house) with fencing around it. Maznah and Haron stood at the gate and called out <i>Salaam Alaikum. </i>No response. They called again because they could see there was someone in the house. Another <i>Salaam Alaikum </i> and finally an elderly lady came out, reluctantly, to the gate. </p><p>My sister introduced herself and asked "<i>Boleh saya tumpang tanya? Ini rumah Puan S? Saya anak Abdul Hamid dan ingin berjumpa dengan adik angkat Abah saya, Macik S..</i><b style="font-style: italic;">(</b>May I make a little query?<i> </i>Is this the house of Puan S? I am Abdul Hamid's daughter and would like to meet my father's adopted sister, Macik S)."</p><p>Her brittle reply was <span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>" Kan si Hamid dah mati! </i>(Isn't that Hamid dead?)" </b></span></p><p>It was now <b style="font-size: large;">'si Hamid'</b> and not <b style="font-size: large;">'Abang Hamid'</b>.</p><p>What did she fear to make her so contemptuous and hostile? We were not interested in the property and the land although we did wonder what happened to the land that Abah had set aside for <i>Tanah Wakaf</i>. Today Sungai Buloh, a thriving adjunct of Kuala Lumpur, has become prime land.</p><p>So that's the story behind the name of my Blog; of why I chose <b style="font-size: large;">AnaksiHamid. </b>This title is to reinstate the pedigree of a man who shunned his inheritance and decided to work, to struggle and to make his own way in life, for himself and his family.</p><p>His legacy to his two sons and two daughters was simple : <b>"I cannot leave you land, money and property when I go. I can only provide you with the best education you can get. It will be completely yours and no one can take that away from you."</b></p><p>And Maznah, Maznoor, Mustapha and arwah Mustakim (in the baby buggy) are very fortunate and proud to be the children of <b> si hamid</b>.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrsfvFxI4anfsMnc72u2uDtJYLpGV3mf0WmfTNPrFXKYlVAAK-pPIkDT2bO2896jp1usvQYG_UkPYQGyhfYE7M77cr4bK4ph8E8c7WwCHjzklfzA3yuQ3qcYmLoFmMexoS2cIk4cc5hnI1Idt0oEoz3ZmoCkq0_zkozFvKYPqS7jOrM1Y-SUwQw2GQUw/s637/Fig%203.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="613" data-original-width="637" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrsfvFxI4anfsMnc72u2uDtJYLpGV3mf0WmfTNPrFXKYlVAAK-pPIkDT2bO2896jp1usvQYG_UkPYQGyhfYE7M77cr4bK4ph8E8c7WwCHjzklfzA3yuQ3qcYmLoFmMexoS2cIk4cc5hnI1Idt0oEoz3ZmoCkq0_zkozFvKYPqS7jOrM1Y-SUwQw2GQUw/w400-h385/Fig%203.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Kamisah and Hamid's Four - 691 Pasir Panjang Road 1949.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Finally, to Zelda Supreme and others who may mis-name AsH, for whatever reasons; I hope this little tale would serve as a reminder to be accurate. </p><p> =======================================</p><p>I reckon President's Biden's comrades and most American citizens must have been quite embarrased when he congratulated the PM of UK and mispronounced the name of the PM as <b>Rashi Sanuk/Sunuk</b>!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TpOv58iIqdc" width="320" youtube-src-id="TpOv58iIqdc"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><i><br /></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-60146455455136614742022-10-19T09:35:00.005+01:002022-10-19T23:58:00.079+01:00Bukit Dinding and all our Highland <p>When I was in Primary Six at Pasir Panjang English School, Singapore in 1957, we had to be able to fill in a sketch map of Malaya with various geographical details as required by the school syllabus.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmNzuPI-7CILctcMb6Mn__hzaFJgXMzRyEty3Swpx9jTV2xlCArchw7Con5QgbK-Mha-D_wXXh1D6BW-AJlMMdKnTA_FWGUS-8_Olwa-utw7gDSOhw12yw1LszPDU2Yqar8pShyVMeeg5R8DzH8wyWQHjACrKiPMJ_Z8AALBgmm4gSXP_XH9ip7rPOw/s3498/PX%205%20-%20Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3498" data-original-width="2541" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmNzuPI-7CILctcMb6Mn__hzaFJgXMzRyEty3Swpx9jTV2xlCArchw7Con5QgbK-Mha-D_wXXh1D6BW-AJlMMdKnTA_FWGUS-8_Olwa-utw7gDSOhw12yw1LszPDU2Yqar8pShyVMeeg5R8DzH8wyWQHjACrKiPMJ_Z8AALBgmm4gSXP_XH9ip7rPOw/w464-h640/PX%205%20-%20Copy.jpg" width="464" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Note the location of the resource-rich States of Perak, Selangor and Negri Sembilan, all "acquired" by the 1874 Pangkor Treaty. The marginal and poorer States of Perlis and the East Coast only had rice and coconuts - which offered little scope for profitable enterprise.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><p>This morning, on our way home from breakfast, I made the spouse stop the car to let me snap a few more pictures of my much-loved Banjaran Titiwangsa. In my 1957 map, Banjaran Titiwangsa was known as merely the Main Range! What a put-down name for the backbone of the Malay Peninsula.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFuUq0Rsp3uGVKFp7Wkq5skFYSa5TYOwZVWRZbGcG1Ie1fWi9q4emWOEKMsfnFjV7SEqVqSJfOHk2RVZZqqe8_01dKZVKkmeqF1tHIdMTYfwXFKNXK3OC5ylbZQyldTuWskYjogqeGe9xqP0sItSzL5eLBvWhHRhpCfU8kqHz3vZ8ED8m3yWiMD5-DBQ/s2043/DSC08170%20-%20Copy.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1054" data-original-width="2043" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFuUq0Rsp3uGVKFp7Wkq5skFYSa5TYOwZVWRZbGcG1Ie1fWi9q4emWOEKMsfnFjV7SEqVqSJfOHk2RVZZqqe8_01dKZVKkmeqF1tHIdMTYfwXFKNXK3OC5ylbZQyldTuWskYjogqeGe9xqP0sItSzL5eLBvWhHRhpCfU8kqHz3vZ8ED8m3yWiMD5-DBQ/w640-h330/DSC08170%20-%20Copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Banjaran Titiwangsa as seen on the road from Sri Rampai to Setiawangsa. </b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi68D-XjcaEI2KEgwAMyDnrLKoPTbDhWD0kpbQ9Yu8xqYENi5vGBOzd6nRLNOMtLrg712ug5aLPHkUJyfONgxzD9BslDqiiiIpY4NE23FhEi4lFv-xBrdUhH01EMtbNgJCEF77wr8-DKG5TQQUir0TuwYe8IjcGCSzjpR8uSAYduFdk4SuyFVAkgoMuiw/s2048/DSC08174.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi68D-XjcaEI2KEgwAMyDnrLKoPTbDhWD0kpbQ9Yu8xqYENi5vGBOzd6nRLNOMtLrg712ug5aLPHkUJyfONgxzD9BslDqiiiIpY4NE23FhEi4lFv-xBrdUhH01EMtbNgJCEF77wr8-DKG5TQQUir0TuwYe8IjcGCSzjpR8uSAYduFdk4SuyFVAkgoMuiw/w640-h480/DSC08174.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Banjaran Titiwangsa, if you can appreciate it behind the clutter of development.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ZN50f_sj7wkksoiZVHJDphcMfde1G09ncy8Fk6vxJA91B56ihn5PnFs8YDdwc-Yv1oVfcp3xDVWVETzJeMUCunSLZRlmy8YpaLSeq6EadGnAKK6mtYRFMvcRKVPeQW014FhxSBIoSx-aVZj_jz3WdXRMBbiipi7bVBgZnBvuIhBqk2InWZ7Gz9t1cQ/s2048/DSC08178%20-%20Copy.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1355" data-original-width="2048" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ZN50f_sj7wkksoiZVHJDphcMfde1G09ncy8Fk6vxJA91B56ihn5PnFs8YDdwc-Yv1oVfcp3xDVWVETzJeMUCunSLZRlmy8YpaLSeq6EadGnAKK6mtYRFMvcRKVPeQW014FhxSBIoSx-aVZj_jz3WdXRMBbiipi7bVBgZnBvuIhBqk2InWZ7Gz9t1cQ/w640-h424/DSC08178%20-%20Copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Banjaran Titiwangsa and her magnificient limestone outcrops, again overshadowed by the ugly pinnacles of development and greed.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I shall savour such views of my mountain-backbone - but I fear that in 30 or 50 years' time or even sooner, "some rich men (will) come and rape" (2.42 in the video) those mountains. </p><p>From the age of 13 (Primary School), through my Senior Cambridge, Higher School Certificate and my degree at Singapore University, geography (and maps especially) has always been my favourite subject, yet nowhere was I made aware of how tin mining and the clearance of forests for rubber had ravaged the environment of the Semenanjung in the pursuit of profit and "progress". In the time of my youth, I suppose few people thought about challenging and criticising the desecration of the landscape in the non-western parts of the British Empire by the Brits and their compradores. </p><p>However, in one of my spouse's old books - "Illustrated Guide to the Federated Malay States" (1923) edited by Cuthbert Woodville and illustrated by Mrs H.C. Barnard - I noticed a reference, bland though it may be , to what happens to a valley as a consequence of tin mining:</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxY1lgh7G9EhZJWms1b9maK-63_xa9uGVp_XU__dbGbDQvvEIAVQS1Xry8tZeFrv75YMkNX0aeTj2xchtxBGRM7mxINQcEGnc1WPJIdjbuRS05urbUYigBY13RzcWbw_uRR6Di2XA6AAlGMCrzDh-Qv9XYpBuLYEBvklb82r1thsyUqLQ21PzmzBIlhQ/s949/bd%208.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="636" data-original-width="949" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxY1lgh7G9EhZJWms1b9maK-63_xa9uGVp_XU__dbGbDQvvEIAVQS1Xry8tZeFrv75YMkNX0aeTj2xchtxBGRM7mxINQcEGnc1WPJIdjbuRS05urbUYigBY13RzcWbw_uRR6Di2XA6AAlGMCrzDh-Qv9XYpBuLYEBvklb82r1thsyUqLQ21PzmzBIlhQ/w640-h428/bd%208.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>A river valley dug, flooded, scraped and scoured for tin as noted in 1923.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>When I got home, I decided to check "The Last Resort", one of my favourite songs by the Eagles. It encapsulates so much of what has, is, and will happen to the beautiful landscape of our <i>Tanah Air</i>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/FI7QjXcXjgc" width="320" youtube-src-id="FI7QjXcXjgc"></iframe></div><br /><p>The rape of the land of the First People (The "Red Indians" ) in USA was based on the ideology of the Manifest Destiny (referred to as "destiny" in the above song). <b>"We satisfy our endless needs, justify our bloody deeds. In the name of destiny, in the name of God" (5.11).</b></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8jbWXQ2TXLhb_PVERjShGFe3hRnUIpYRdHsyyhQR2-LJCPC1pDfQeyX-GdNxJ6CMeTQZWHjrGGr4eSaSedDMFCJ5-FiOiXlwJDTLnaw_AXbfuG2nethpKfoYfNKF4gY3vByu35a02vfIbwq_-paFt4w5ZLeD2c8nl37kE6j1j54OZGLzljbjHBkjq2Q/s1144/Manifest%20Destiny%201.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="857" data-original-width="1144" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8jbWXQ2TXLhb_PVERjShGFe3hRnUIpYRdHsyyhQR2-LJCPC1pDfQeyX-GdNxJ6CMeTQZWHjrGGr4eSaSedDMFCJ5-FiOiXlwJDTLnaw_AXbfuG2nethpKfoYfNKF4gY3vByu35a02vfIbwq_-paFt4w5ZLeD2c8nl37kE6j1j54OZGLzljbjHBkjq2Q/w640-h480/Manifest%20Destiny%201.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p> As for Malaya, the violation of the Semenanjung's landscape was engineered by British Imperialism and powered by imported labour, merchants, traders and administrators from China and India especially after the Pangkor treaty. </p><p>Here is a sample of the instigation and drive to develop(?) and exploit (?) the resources of the Semenanjung</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAwygFtILrOX3SHdSaPqeBGSuzOfhrW8YOVi5JFYYL6zqUkyUAMMvKmf_aHlo2sFSF9FJF8a9Lgi5mQXsxouSIfh8Sllp5C3nKy7YB22GFJICYLLj7SqGI2VeiRkCnmaRDuk2jf698OafDWKUsNbRyJgEENRCRj1Oeulyf78gXoRceowOuhu-30yZ8_g/s949/bd%2012.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="871" data-original-width="949" height="588" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAwygFtILrOX3SHdSaPqeBGSuzOfhrW8YOVi5JFYYL6zqUkyUAMMvKmf_aHlo2sFSF9FJF8a9Lgi5mQXsxouSIfh8Sllp5C3nKy7YB22GFJICYLLj7SqGI2VeiRkCnmaRDuk2jf698OafDWKUsNbRyJgEENRCRj1Oeulyf78gXoRceowOuhu-30yZ8_g/w640-h588/bd%2012.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The Manifest of the Semenanjung's Destiny.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><br /> <p></p><p>I was quite taken by this Youtube comment on the Eagles' song:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWb3RDqz9-PCjtaNtEzYMN_wVHbYJG9zMLloorNV-IjdpDzWJb9VbIQ37BwlhDURYrjUmpcsfxEspkEACjTa_DZ3nqy2xa0BfY0kG5asCp8evP56xanaATVYNeUb1GAw6j5I5MrerzApzPQ_22VKeuuPYtdAi-lCvHMlIPNVEIg4XwsBcWHgfDlb12UA/s1199/BD%2018.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="231" data-original-width="1199" height="124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWb3RDqz9-PCjtaNtEzYMN_wVHbYJG9zMLloorNV-IjdpDzWJb9VbIQ37BwlhDURYrjUmpcsfxEspkEACjTa_DZ3nqy2xa0BfY0kG5asCp8evP56xanaATVYNeUb1GAw6j5I5MrerzApzPQ_22VKeuuPYtdAi-lCvHMlIPNVEIg4XwsBcWHgfDlb12UA/w640-h124/BD%2018.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><b><i>" .... a simple fact that no white man (me included) could ever love this land as much as any Native American, they fought for over 400 years to keep their home and we just kept pushing and pushing them......"</i><i> </i></b>by Robert Flor.</p><p>On the matter of love and respect for their land, can the bumiputra Malay-Muslim be compared to the Native American? Unfortunately not, I fear, despite Islam's teaching that we Muslims are supposed to be the Stewards of Creation :</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqWPqAALJOIkhGctT3ahApBAMlXGdgCkGlfPkOWJutxO_R5s3dL0KgZm1wb_uIbN_-FEgZ3gTZaxgGJuBnJJI_8czM7EuJ8OjNxlrV0LTQTHXzT5UM1VwjBUzIx9MJ4ETPLQe0P6nSqSezktvwfHxgG7ttiYJwtks-GO8KYtN02l-8-MTk8RI1PHwrmw/s353/Khalifa%201%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="189" data-original-width="353" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqWPqAALJOIkhGctT3ahApBAMlXGdgCkGlfPkOWJutxO_R5s3dL0KgZm1wb_uIbN_-FEgZ3gTZaxgGJuBnJJI_8czM7EuJ8OjNxlrV0LTQTHXzT5UM1VwjBUzIx9MJ4ETPLQe0P6nSqSezktvwfHxgG7ttiYJwtks-GO8KYtN02l-8-MTk8RI1PHwrmw/w640-h342/Khalifa%201%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Cannot misuse all these natural resources beyond their immediate needs"</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>When we, in our arrogance decide to place our abode in locations that threaten and abuse nature .....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqr_zHk7DzXbC_tf5QFrb_E16CoZKcLSlbGBKvD-D5HYTxSRQf8D3NpNHc4J5wmZZCklLlJ26qU9Gao5XLmSWSlQMEMh7BXGpKuiQGj8HffILWIzyYqFnf9cHnLLf2k9Jj1GNeqoZ6DzGlwnspsk9KtgFfoGsuWe-GOlVqOXJQBhWCFj2sPB_BhtkULA/s1106/Bukit%20STW%201.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="761" data-original-width="1106" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqr_zHk7DzXbC_tf5QFrb_E16CoZKcLSlbGBKvD-D5HYTxSRQf8D3NpNHc4J5wmZZCklLlJ26qU9Gao5XLmSWSlQMEMh7BXGpKuiQGj8HffILWIzyYqFnf9cHnLLf2k9Jj1GNeqoZ6DzGlwnspsk9KtgFfoGsuWe-GOlVqOXJQBhWCFj2sPB_BhtkULA/w640-h440/Bukit%20STW%201.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>....... then we and others in the vicinity have to pay a price. </p><p>We desire (and developers are always happy to feed that wish and vanity) that our abodes be built on high land or high slopes so that we can get a much-envied exclusive view and establish that we have achieved high stature in our life style.</p><p>We desire such elevated locations because it will promise us high returns on investment.</p><p>We also desire such lofty positions because it ensures good <i>feng shui.</i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDRwOHSsCJmHbGwYk1UDAbZH865_EcXEi8ZBCvah3AJ6gHQif6r6t8HoeRdO42r8pR7ZDpUkgMImHCiILobFiEbBs6pNjq-GeQL-q4DKr8OH8UJo-gF7tNvEsSf85Mbm8iKxsO864qmKqVIZLakp_91N-CvChvkbLfxjyz6lhIj7Q8vs94tn4sYMkzqA/s844/feng%20shui%202.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="324" data-original-width="844" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDRwOHSsCJmHbGwYk1UDAbZH865_EcXEi8ZBCvah3AJ6gHQif6r6t8HoeRdO42r8pR7ZDpUkgMImHCiILobFiEbBs6pNjq-GeQL-q4DKr8OH8UJo-gF7tNvEsSf85Mbm8iKxsO864qmKqVIZLakp_91N-CvChvkbLfxjyz6lhIj7Q8vs94tn4sYMkzqA/w640-h246/feng%20shui%202.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><i><br /></i><p></p><p>So when I noted several banners appearing in Setiawangsa .....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwCQ0AbjKV1b6y-NHgoji6ZpakvqJKr7polTTGNHwhFhgrApg1oPEhOCBOf7rg01_KDdjkGuKq9omcqgGmg1finL55yfWCnshdUx6tMi7Bpl9SU5qohOssKw4G15e5rKkmaEneKvpj6WkMmJlKOu23n6WYzWpiX9OBeCtaOwC85xsf0vPikaTnSWvk9g/s4608/Combi%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwCQ0AbjKV1b6y-NHgoji6ZpakvqJKr7polTTGNHwhFhgrApg1oPEhOCBOf7rg01_KDdjkGuKq9omcqgGmg1finL55yfWCnshdUx6tMi7Bpl9SU5qohOssKw4G15e5rKkmaEneKvpj6WkMmJlKOu23n6WYzWpiX9OBeCtaOwC85xsf0vPikaTnSWvk9g/w284-h640/Combi%201.jpg" width="284" /></a></div><br /><p>...... I decided to look up the background of Bukit Dinding.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeLwvKDzvKv0itg9vPNBFXOlT6q1hDsiqFcCfn1eh2pxUzjImXXnUYOMILxi-KvGYSEtwNHqJlDANZygI7sP85UZhyPQXFXU-HVDHG_3OJq0NCEDOmIT098LHW_ISZ7YO6-B2VF5duuYJ6g0adtrqgKZ9y3h-EV0f5zv42uthdB4qBhtsmUbURzMMkzQ/s1156/Mapcarta%20BD%202.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="847" data-original-width="1156" height="468" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeLwvKDzvKv0itg9vPNBFXOlT6q1hDsiqFcCfn1eh2pxUzjImXXnUYOMILxi-KvGYSEtwNHqJlDANZygI7sP85UZhyPQXFXU-HVDHG_3OJq0NCEDOmIT098LHW_ISZ7YO6-B2VF5duuYJ6g0adtrqgKZ9y3h-EV0f5zv42uthdB4qBhtsmUbURzMMkzQ/w640-h468/Mapcarta%20BD%202.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>This map taken from the website Mapcarta shows the position of Bukit Dinding between Setiawangsa in the southeast to Wangsa Maju in the north. Bukit Dinding is 291 meters high, which is just a little short of a few metres to be classified as a mountain. A mountain has to be 1000 feet high (304.8 meters). It is a very popular spot for hikers and cyclists.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>For the past six to seven years, we have seen a growing number of youngsters, both male and female ( almost 100% Malays) gathering on weekends and public holidays to hike along the path that goes up Bukit Dinding. Good for them, we said. Sometimes we can see almost 100 cars sitting along the road, as well as motor bikes and bicycles - all, as a rule, conscientiously parked. It is a sight worth remembering. So the preservation and protection of Bukit Dinding means a lot - not only to the residents at the bottom of the hill - but to these youngters enjoying a good healthy exercise instead of parking themelves in front of the TV or wandering around shopping malls. </p><p>I was quite curious about that route up the slope. So four days ago on a weekday afternoon when there wouldn't be any walkers this late-septuagenarian decided to give it a look. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheINSaBuhx3hwUFyNpukpAQntG_UGp8iHnMdiBalwuGo4rW0_b4-69uPa3BDR81CwuSh-PLPSuqtbJUER1ylEerux6q5IoxChZIQTWdUQmW_0MF4bEgRyUDYbPQs8cOeVlQ-tQI048EzTQrexGpuqFEXiP4l34EtrFS6O4uzVzs-hOZ4vyE-G6oB9m1A/s4096/Combi%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheINSaBuhx3hwUFyNpukpAQntG_UGp8iHnMdiBalwuGo4rW0_b4-69uPa3BDR81CwuSh-PLPSuqtbJUER1ylEerux6q5IoxChZIQTWdUQmW_0MF4bEgRyUDYbPQs8cOeVlQ-tQI048EzTQrexGpuqFEXiP4l34EtrFS6O4uzVzs-hOZ4vyE-G6oB9m1A/w640-h240/Combi%201.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzc1tfO2DBg8__ufz8muzz3GwtKt0_g59m2oW_qW_lvlLKvnUZnnQ6tYCVFq3t5LxE4Np_4sSRi7eClXhXGsa2u_Ma5LHuG_26R1fb4-sRQDzba1SVvMFYXFsCE8lktj3iWENcuNeY7XlPzOXMVYpOh2k2Ei_9Gtb9HM9NsT8fHXVKWmSFY9WNIagh-Q/s4096/Combi%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzc1tfO2DBg8__ufz8muzz3GwtKt0_g59m2oW_qW_lvlLKvnUZnnQ6tYCVFq3t5LxE4Np_4sSRi7eClXhXGsa2u_Ma5LHuG_26R1fb4-sRQDzba1SVvMFYXFsCE8lktj3iWENcuNeY7XlPzOXMVYpOh2k2Ei_9Gtb9HM9NsT8fHXVKWmSFY9WNIagh-Q/w640-h240/Combi%202.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga-ZdFqlYshszXkcABr58DoAitkjVWkroOVUp-lr4GZTeP9xGbKiUaHmeYkdekPS_5Kxm_siHjnl7-niWg_XwCDsf9dkRu_JsMMiDGbu8zM_S4bUDJhCUVLpvWiiB2ZDqUaaqNwvftNaDo9tETVNam4MoIyaw0EBpq0IIl1byXD0eSrjr6ALGrbcCHxg/s4096/combi%205.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga-ZdFqlYshszXkcABr58DoAitkjVWkroOVUp-lr4GZTeP9xGbKiUaHmeYkdekPS_5Kxm_siHjnl7-niWg_XwCDsf9dkRu_JsMMiDGbu8zM_S4bUDJhCUVLpvWiiB2ZDqUaaqNwvftNaDo9tETVNam4MoIyaw0EBpq0IIl1byXD0eSrjr6ALGrbcCHxg/w640-h240/combi%205.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWO-2G4UVJOK4ciFSsZ3wjrWSoOa7RxF-mMAl7RKE_bftst9zBWHd28XlZlTcOZ100UkHbSUa2huo_otloY8MFT3jL-eR1FfwvX1fRJ_LSMThYB5ClU4RO4t10pUsXkOnAEm_jx90_2aZ1zQngnlpdrTrePqtymbmgpvzWR7kUEJvAAvzaW_ICGkEVGA/s4096/Combi%206.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWO-2G4UVJOK4ciFSsZ3wjrWSoOa7RxF-mMAl7RKE_bftst9zBWHd28XlZlTcOZ100UkHbSUa2huo_otloY8MFT3jL-eR1FfwvX1fRJ_LSMThYB5ClU4RO4t10pUsXkOnAEm_jx90_2aZ1zQngnlpdrTrePqtymbmgpvzWR7kUEJvAAvzaW_ICGkEVGA/w640-h240/Combi%206.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Oh, how I wish I could turn the clock back to 53 years ago when at 25, with a group of NCC Officers, we drove from Singapore to climb Gunung Ledang (Mount Ophir), on the border of Melaka and Johor. Gunung Ledang is 1276 meters high. On the afternoon of the next day we got down to the base of the mountain and drove back to Singapore. The climb and the view at the top was awesome. It was worth every painful joint and muscle ache in the body.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Before I left for that trip, my Abah gave me this <i>petua </i>(advice). Do not pluck or break any leaf or twig or branch or flower on your climb up Gunung Ledang. Secondly, do not look back or anwer when you hear someone calling your name from behind you. Aaah, father knows best.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Oh Malaysia, you do not know how lucky you are to have all this natural beauty - to have all these hills, mountains, and forests, all these wonderful coastlines and rivers, to savour and appreciate. But I fear there won't be much of a legacy to leave behind for future generations if the present one does not make a greater effort to preserve what is left - places like Bukit Dinding and many others that are about to be turned to "Places where the pretty people play - hungry for power", see 2.30 in the video.<div><br /></div><div>Remember this by arwah Usman Awang?</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRwa7m1qeDqvbtki6XeD_h6xuZZAcKi-BOgwt9DozvVNvQF2svO9KHhXlV3Lpe_ir-f3iwPSNCu0k0FLuva6woYmi6LxOriZigsSrVfT1TTJofKJlm0Kf7gdJJCafssNI_Oq3LJM3OLISPxZjFWqKyitfAHiJN-xL-7LyxKiI-X1Rj0yeSU-SZkn2dbw/s835/bd%2017.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="835" data-original-width="549" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRwa7m1qeDqvbtki6XeD_h6xuZZAcKi-BOgwt9DozvVNvQF2svO9KHhXlV3Lpe_ir-f3iwPSNCu0k0FLuva6woYmi6LxOriZigsSrVfT1TTJofKJlm0Kf7gdJJCafssNI_Oq3LJM3OLISPxZjFWqKyitfAHiJN-xL-7LyxKiI-X1Rj0yeSU-SZkn2dbw/w420-h640/bd%2017.PNG" width="420" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><div><p>Bukit Dinding and all the surrounding areas were once - before the British came - a tropical rain forest. They were then sold or bestowed for planting thousands and thousands of acres of rubber. Then urbanization created new owners, and now these owners are allocating these prime areas for huge new housing developments. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDQmqyjD1HbUB9ofF6TT1NEDoai_YTaxuIlVS3mJ5Vy1jbkBCJHtMT3wL4pL-t1LPXbq27psglwKpxpPO1EvaqHWHs-ObG8BWHPsAKY3nZAI1DVpbyrkdEWGM3Ap5l0ouWV0My7jMiOi1q8htnVAd4NEuikO2-hYCnlE9HF16s7vpeqBFPoFFWBBKfQ/s1209/BUKIT%20DINDING.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="846" data-original-width="1209" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDQmqyjD1HbUB9ofF6TT1NEDoai_YTaxuIlVS3mJ5Vy1jbkBCJHtMT3wL4pL-t1LPXbq27psglwKpxpPO1EvaqHWHs-ObG8BWHPsAKY3nZAI1DVpbyrkdEWGM3Ap5l0ouWV0My7jMiOi1q8htnVAd4NEuikO2-hYCnlE9HF16s7vpeqBFPoFFWBBKfQ/w640-h448/BUKIT%20DINDING.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>This view of Bukit Dinding will be obliterated in a couple of decades or maybe earlier. Image taken from Malay Mail 9 Oct 2022.<br /></b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>This fate of Bukit Dinding as envisaged by the developer Nova Pesona.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN47nNYMqekPlWeKI0CCzKxXANwZoU7U0r8b8DCtTzkKRfuou-1EyEngGWGOixJd-J_qjoUT6ZCfXX-bnikw41cB0yMVfwYy9G7LCY9ZycFyE-WT_dWDsuiM98dur7oyi2z2G5wmn3yOfYDYk9eldAjW6UI-BRHib9Cbhi5NP9d6-t4DXfUPvUwyoLUg/s927/Combi%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="668" data-original-width="927" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN47nNYMqekPlWeKI0CCzKxXANwZoU7U0r8b8DCtTzkKRfuou-1EyEngGWGOixJd-J_qjoUT6ZCfXX-bnikw41cB0yMVfwYy9G7LCY9ZycFyE-WT_dWDsuiM98dur7oyi2z2G5wmn3yOfYDYk9eldAjW6UI-BRHib9Cbhi5NP9d6-t4DXfUPvUwyoLUg/w640-h462/Combi%201.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Nova Pesona according to ctos .....</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPdcDiltySKcMV0Svon0I3tCSckxeaYzsjZ0byJWYOBTZb6-u5BdZtN9BJj8iSa3nfdtFlUXzwc3PLzFiz716AOCs0Um0IzXePS0DNU077P24FyRbqYaX1mtq2qiesFmj9Rm-SCAdQmtLL4X_nfMJxWjf4KdEUHcg3QAGEJ7I0aEuxls1b1lv9Wf3Eag/s1573/Nova%20Persona%201.PNG"><img border="0" data-original-height="959" data-original-width="1573" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPdcDiltySKcMV0Svon0I3tCSckxeaYzsjZ0byJWYOBTZb6-u5BdZtN9BJj8iSa3nfdtFlUXzwc3PLzFiz716AOCs0Um0IzXePS0DNU077P24FyRbqYaX1mtq2qiesFmj9Rm-SCAdQmtLL4X_nfMJxWjf4KdEUHcg3QAGEJ7I0aEuxls1b1lv9Wf3Eag/w640-h390/Nova%20Persona%201.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn-tKewPFyTK51YLKvuNRaX_VjaRyvoVSsO_4e_AdqGyI7VnqXHd_8LtKd7cxUSwg54Drcudb5iag2KokKnOzHh9qQ-B4PKzKelNSHy3nv8s2ehWx5faMuz1qKxaXEiESlD6xx3yxwg5dpBA3KpkfAxNgpmHeMiGoRgbCjEwIR6HA4Pmy7Ri8VlM_dyA/s693/Nova%20Persona%201%20-%20Copy.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="693" data-original-width="445" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn-tKewPFyTK51YLKvuNRaX_VjaRyvoVSsO_4e_AdqGyI7VnqXHd_8LtKd7cxUSwg54Drcudb5iag2KokKnOzHh9qQ-B4PKzKelNSHy3nv8s2ehWx5faMuz1qKxaXEiESlD6xx3yxwg5dpBA3KpkfAxNgpmHeMiGoRgbCjEwIR6HA4Pmy7Ri8VlM_dyA/w410-h640/Nova%20Persona%201%20-%20Copy.PNG" width="410" /></a></div><br /><p>....... and Nova Pesona is a subsidiary of .....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqAEPFgv--XW6fcWF4jOtxeCK8uoJW879R6lB3FvFttX16XhT7cus7V11Eaf6BUqzVawbMU-nWGzVu6sNg-DAzuOxCZbSniU62xto6NedKorJzCIiezboJcJrBuRugUDOIDYEkion01ves0ffauPEpts1tDfSVIG_qZP9ZR8lqfvnZx8vgKTxPJdkBvQ/s1890/Nova%20Persona.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="1890" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqAEPFgv--XW6fcWF4jOtxeCK8uoJW879R6lB3FvFttX16XhT7cus7V11Eaf6BUqzVawbMU-nWGzVu6sNg-DAzuOxCZbSniU62xto6NedKorJzCIiezboJcJrBuRugUDOIDYEkion01ves0ffauPEpts1tDfSVIG_qZP9ZR8lqfvnZx8vgKTxPJdkBvQ/w640-h212/Nova%20Persona.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>..... IGB (Ipoh Garden Berhad). A corporate profile of IGB Berhad writes : it is "primarily a property company engaged in all aspects of the property industry. Its core business is in retail, commercial, residential, construction, and hospitality. The company also has investments in water treatment, information technology and data analytics and education.</p><p>IGB Berhad is one of the largest listed property companies in Malaysia with footprints across Asia, Australia, the United States of America and United Kingdom,"</p><p>As for Nova Pesona, according to the Malay Mail ( 9 Oct 2022)</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZM-9w9Yh5XXqMh9sg369ArZn0PUgLy1PxfZSsR0d9N8U75eqc1Nke7gOkayX3891EM6IlBpe1XdUWNUZ5f0oPUYyK1GCEh_uw7d1S5fhpAsC8RcnKa99ejTGMikEWWdJ9PZIHUQKxzRAKKv25aJoQo8wMDAJV3-QeiniyURMNNS3Cgxh_HXZynIrLVA/s1064/pst%201d.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="662" data-original-width="1064" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZM-9w9Yh5XXqMh9sg369ArZn0PUgLy1PxfZSsR0d9N8U75eqc1Nke7gOkayX3891EM6IlBpe1XdUWNUZ5f0oPUYyK1GCEh_uw7d1S5fhpAsC8RcnKa99ejTGMikEWWdJ9PZIHUQKxzRAKKv25aJoQo8wMDAJV3-QeiniyURMNNS3Cgxh_HXZynIrLVA/w640-h398/pst%201d.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>From the Malay Mail , 9 Oct 2022. According to the Kuala Lumpur City Plan, large parts of Bukit Dinding have been designated for "housing" as early as 1983. <u>Only the peak of the hill has been designated as a no-development zone.</u> Nova Pesona .......... owns the largest parcel out of the five parcels carved out and zoned for "housing" there. <u>All are owned by private developers.</u></b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I find it quite mind-boggling how such hills and mountains (let alone lowlands) can be owned by "private developers". It is like accepting that large parcels of The Great Wall of China or the Cheviot Hills or Yorkshire Moors can now belong to private developers!</p><p>But, there's no way that the Chinese and the Brits will allow themselves to be caught or manoeuvred into the same situation as the Semenanjung Malays faced all those years ago.</p><p>Hopefully, the campaign for Saving Bukit Dinding will not be regarded as just another Nimby (Not in my Backyard) attempt to preserve the sanctity of their homes at the foothills of Bukit Dinding - although these are certainly under constant threat of soil erosion where they are and any more pressure of "development" by property developers will exacerbate their situation. These residents are confronting a very powerful property corporation and hopefully DBKL will take a strong stand in choosing stability (for the hills and the homes ) over profit. </p><p>This campaign should be an eye opener, for Malays especially, that no more of the Tanah Pusaka - the hills, forests, mountains, sea-shores - shall be "pledged, hocked, pawned, peddled, marketed, mortgaged and auctioned ....... to the highest bidder and their middle men and agents - though all too often we still get shortchanged" (as AsH has said before!)</p><p>Despite Merdeka, despite increasing wealth, despite the investment in religious and secular education, Malays have succumbed to corruption, cronyism and nepotism and now as we can see at every election and proceedings in Parliament, they are scratching out each other's eyes for bigger and bigger slices of the booty in the name of the Rakyat and democracy.</p><p>Here's an illuminating blast from the past.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSZr9i4RFHCe5vXbc8HcaIGUn04zyJpDHIIuyNLn9GCgR-lN5FtZVJ7Ed0-hFuqu7zFNWkoNsUbfwRGSZ3AIjy9fHpBSzSQ8flPKy57nuapUu7BQH7IztkbXsMwdnovshgUUt5pGJGwoXE5zm595mA8KBgoAIDYnrtUDn9WwoqClRwRluyyP54xjOXQ/s842/bd16.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="542" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSZr9i4RFHCe5vXbc8HcaIGUn04zyJpDHIIuyNLn9GCgR-lN5FtZVJ7Ed0-hFuqu7zFNWkoNsUbfwRGSZ3AIjy9fHpBSzSQ8flPKy57nuapUu7BQH7IztkbXsMwdnovshgUUt5pGJGwoXE5zm595mA8KBgoAIDYnrtUDn9WwoqClRwRluyyP54xjOXQ/w412-h640/bd16.PNG" width="412" /></a></div>I recall this quote from Punch, 1878. </div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>I am not hungry, but thank goodness, I am greedy.</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Do read: <span style="text-align: center;">/<a href="https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2014/08/a-parting-shot.html">https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2014/08/a-parting-shot.html</a></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Also the riposte to the comment on the above link : <a href="https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2014/09/clever-dick-clever-mat-clever-ah-beng.html">https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2014/09/clever-dick-clever-mat-clever-ah-beng.html</a></div><div><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: red; font-size: medium; text-align: center;"><b>For all the residents of Setiawangsa and Wangsa Maju, keep the flag flying.</b></span></div><div><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-63924014597082999302022-09-02T02:46:00.003+01:002022-09-16T08:41:13.877+01:00Two knights in shining armour.<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">A few days ago someone asked why AsH has been silent. Thank you for asking! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Well, AsH is still alive but not kicking. For the past 7/8 weeks the spouse and I have shared a litany of health problems. Firstly there was the spouse's dengue, which was reasonably remedied despite the discomfort and anxiety. But that's how the stoic Scotsman views his ailments, even his cancer. Doesn't believe in crying in his (Kaliber) beer over such details of ill-health - "must not grumble, others suffer worse than us".</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">As if to test his resilience, we both tested Positive for Covid 19, about a few days later. The self-quarantine, the daily reports to My Sejahtera and after seven days, the negative test allowed us to heave a sigh of relief. We celebrated with our favourite Lontong breakfast at Seri Talam Cat Cafe, Taman Sri Rampai, with Nasi Lemak bungkus for lunch and kuih Tepung Bungkus for elevenses.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">But no, there was no happy ending to this dastardly Covid virus, especially for the Belacan Malay wife of the Wild Scotsman. She'd developed a constant racking dry cough which went on all day and night causing bronchitis and sleepless nights. This, they say, is part of the Long Covid scenario. Comforting to know it has a name! The general advice given was plenty of rest and plenty of water. That didn't work. I turned to my very capable and competent Traditional (Herbal) Chinese Medicine, Prof. Liu Xiao Hang at Tung Shin Hospital.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdN19Lm3M8sEPaMJVHdPp5g3r2Tky43M30CcpfN6bJjifPrPUIYdBzBkxP6ZcEfX8pxJ-FeuFl3MDufW0TGvWjvFTos4QJQxebKVp7WsPP4q3YbyQWl9MdyR5w1_Xp-_MvwCya9Jx5Hade0RRDxaBvLlH8RT5zDdE4AnFCrhrUlp7ZiAXLP1E_bkKG9w/s1028/Prof%20Liu.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="455" data-original-width="1028" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdN19Lm3M8sEPaMJVHdPp5g3r2Tky43M30CcpfN6bJjifPrPUIYdBzBkxP6ZcEfX8pxJ-FeuFl3MDufW0TGvWjvFTos4QJQxebKVp7WsPP4q3YbyQWl9MdyR5w1_Xp-_MvwCya9Jx5Hade0RRDxaBvLlH8RT5zDdE4AnFCrhrUlp7ZiAXLP1E_bkKG9w/w640-h285/Prof%20Liu.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I marvel at the skills of Prof Liu in applying his knowledge of thousands of years of traditional Chinese medicine. What seems to be a simple act of taking your pulse provides him with much of the information for diagnosing your ailment.. Through my haze of endless coughing, weariness and aches I watch him holding my pulse and considering the message it gives him for deciding on the treatment for an "infection" that has baffled the Western medical establishment since Covid began plaguing the planet. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I watch him thinking hard, looking at his computer at a long, long list in his herbal pharmacy before he decides on what herbs to choose. He does not prescribe a week's or a fortnight's series of the same medication. The first prescription he gives is for three days only. There are 3 more 5-day prescriptions. Now it is a 7-day prescription. Each prescription is totally different from the other, and consists of at least fifteen, sometimes twenty, different herbs. And each prescription is chosen specifically for the patient according to the state of the patient's health and symptoms on that day. You could say it is a personal prescription for AsH, according to what Prof Liu can read from her pulse, her eyes, her tongue, and what she says. It's all too mind-boggling for me to absorb, Long Covid or no Long Covid!! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But Prof Liu will also utilise what Western medicine can offer: he sent me for an X-Ray because he was worried about the lungs. Over less than weeks, he sorted out the bronchitis and the cough which meant I can stop having to sleep (when I can get a chance in-between the racking coughs) sitting up. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Just last week, he started AsH on his prescription to alleviate another feature of Long Covid - the loss of appetite, extreme fatigue and listlessness. As I left he smiled, patted my shoulder and said, "Do not worry. You are getting better." (I know so. Slowly and surely I can see chinks of light at the end of the tunnel. Not the the huge bright light of an approaching train!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A tough old bird like me does not cry. But I do wish I could override the norms of our Asian Culture and give Prof Liu a humongous hug.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Professor Liu </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaH7kFBer11OzTrplxa8XXKZHY_UPcCryIjjQhHm8iXdg5G1dNei9pbgm6kVHQNa_H-QNWLYFEJCFqstERsKujJt6a4JDn8FKrdH2FSAWtLaZKT53ivb4ROQ2L3qkAxoJLmhWm7eYmznBRZ_LfRWWFdVywNQQV9ecZ5g1MMzAqzmKa2wz5dy1IYkQbIQ/s227/Thank%20you.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="86" data-original-width="227" height="86" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaH7kFBer11OzTrplxa8XXKZHY_UPcCryIjjQhHm8iXdg5G1dNei9pbgm6kVHQNa_H-QNWLYFEJCFqstERsKujJt6a4JDn8FKrdH2FSAWtLaZKT53ivb4ROQ2L3qkAxoJLmhWm7eYmznBRZ_LfRWWFdVywNQQV9ecZ5g1MMzAqzmKa2wz5dy1IYkQbIQ/s1600/Thank%20you.PNG" width="227" /></a></div><br /> Thank you ever so much.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Despite a brain that is still foggy and dense (which I know Prof Liu will be clearing up in time), I write this posting to record my deepest appreciation (<i>BUDI YANG TIDAK TERHINGGA)</i> to two men who have kept me company and boosted my spirit through these last few months. There's Prof Liu. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next - the other knight in shining armour who took over the reins of minding the house, the cats and the cantankerous (because she's fed-up of being ill) wife . Other than his allocated (by AsH) tasks of being the Beverage manager, dish-washer, lunch provider, binning-the-rubbish expert and driver; he took over all of Ash's jobs like the laundry and the cooking. He made sure his crabby wife (who was losing her appetite) ate up what he had so lovingly prepared in the kitchen. He was rolling out baked beans on toast, chicken carcass stew - our favourite because of the flavour of the boney carcass, baked beans on toast, macaroni cheese, my mother's recipe for sardines (Sardin Cap Ayam) cooked in lashings of onions, red and green chilis and lemon juice, grilled chili cheese-on-toast, baked beans on toast, corned beef fried with cabbage, red and green chillies, loads of onions served with mash and hot rice ...very irresistible, and digging deep into the freezer for my cache of home-made soups, frozen apple pie, frozen banana cake and Dalcha and ...... baked beans on toast. But there was the evening when I thought I had better stop feeling sorry for myself and AsH decided to fry chunky chips (not the flimsy French fries) which had been parboiled earlier. We left no chips unturned - somehow my appetite for chips was left intact. A week later, we decided to indulge ourselves and splurged on Students' Union staple food - chips, eggs, fried tomatoes and baked beans. Methinks that was a necessary complement to Prof Liu's herbs.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This year, he is officially an octogenarian and AsH is just 2 years behind him. What follows next me duck, is to thank you for looking after me, especially all that driving through KL's horrible traffic to get to Tung Shin - sometimes up to 3 times a week, but especially for travelling and sharing that "less travelled road" (Robert Frost's phrase) with me since the 1980s.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In the beginning : there were two nerds.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLgWswceA3iGqmdqxGlTC0BpxQ5hj6MTtsp4-jubKV14oQXmLgsbqUh_JSmqRsVTA-UAWxB5W6KhRpsNCCHJ71gHRD7hw3D2A4gKgMSFkPjZ7NwO_2A3c8r6MYSAbSLzZmIH9_P_OhX7CltTu3ZW773Pnux9Vjy2S46cI2nHmZljjbPdFf71gErqftdw/s884/1%20-%20Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="606" data-original-width="884" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLgWswceA3iGqmdqxGlTC0BpxQ5hj6MTtsp4-jubKV14oQXmLgsbqUh_JSmqRsVTA-UAWxB5W6KhRpsNCCHJ71gHRD7hw3D2A4gKgMSFkPjZ7NwO_2A3c8r6MYSAbSLzZmIH9_P_OhX7CltTu3ZW773Pnux9Vjy2S46cI2nHmZljjbPdFf71gErqftdw/w400-h274/1%20-%20Copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Two sweet (?!) 13 year-olds from Singapore and New Zealand.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We were as different as chalk and cheese or more aptly, as <i>nasi lemak </i>and fish 'n' chips.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiyui7l34YjhQhLa2t4KFUsSwrijyzLGGZJv8EPhsUucRweylyj6mUJV_pRRjRuoYygNoGR-uulRFo_BrjrKONZwE6S3vaXhqnUu3Vw2CVmtyXx05yx7ndJho4uQ5jMtmsQxdPNO5TaUK-Uj4_wDZV1iuSKXriN6Wqw7N8KQngEjyiZJ__fpgPHW4qyA/s6997/2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2248" data-original-width="6997" height="129" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiyui7l34YjhQhLa2t4KFUsSwrijyzLGGZJv8EPhsUucRweylyj6mUJV_pRRjRuoYygNoGR-uulRFo_BrjrKONZwE6S3vaXhqnUu3Vw2CVmtyXx05yx7ndJho4uQ5jMtmsQxdPNO5TaUK-Uj4_wDZV1iuSKXriN6Wqw7N8KQngEjyiZJ__fpgPHW4qyA/w400-h129/2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>These two dishes kept them together.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The most unlikely couple are we! Being the parsimonious Scot and the prudent quarter-Chinese, quarter-Bawean, quarter-Minang, quarter-Melayu jati Malay, they realized that two can live as cheaply as one. They decided to set up house and built an erratic, eccentric, adventurous and bewilderingly happy life together - as Darby and Joan and like two peas in a pod.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-YRjz_F_KmA-Qfv-98zeJYvO29EYMQ68Brc-cxVZVpvMUZfMOatwtx17d0Ry5O-2u3CWdghNvMIyT7ZQmGhz4m0z18imfF1c3UGrTciKaAgwn2UWg7AI4cFAX6dayKTnBwRGZgsJd7ydDE5-UZmsxnQa-NGn_HB8a_syCBFSfIZ9d1y0_jhqdoCcVA/s1408/3%20-%20Texted.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="1010" data-original-width="1408" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-YRjz_F_KmA-Qfv-98zeJYvO29EYMQ68Brc-cxVZVpvMUZfMOatwtx17d0Ry5O-2u3CWdghNvMIyT7ZQmGhz4m0z18imfF1c3UGrTciKaAgwn2UWg7AI4cFAX6dayKTnBwRGZgsJd7ydDE5-UZmsxnQa-NGn_HB8a_syCBFSfIZ9d1y0_jhqdoCcVA/w400-h288/3%20-%20Texted.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We were both brought up in families that had one thing in common. Our respective parents were not afraid of pulling up stakes, crossing borders and oceans (in the case of Iain's family) to forge a different life for their families in places far away from their familiar homes. The two of us could not deny what was in our blood. Before we got hitched, we sought and experienced "<i>hidup berdagang di negri orang</i>" or in today's parlance, as foreign workers. In the 1960s he went to Persekutuan Tanah Melayu (as recorded in his green Identity card) to teach in UM and I ventured into Brunei to teach at Sultan Hassanal Bolkiah Teachers Training College. during the late 1970s.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We were as snug as two bugs in a rug in our little abode at Oxford Avenue, Leicester.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJFC31lxMxROzJXJc0DShuQcFxy-n7vC7KldfoWpswCAj-bRH1yaJ_8BcfZDtX2FT40kjApBjWNAt_8Rxg3VAMv-JrMcPapsjdDVQeeJAcV0r7OOl5KEMEFMTND-p9nf4oyfipKMIK_8vaXN8VnqNL-SggAB9Gei1ybCAjp4kjgchtLuSQFwX4GLcKjw/s2881/4%20-%20Texted.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1368" data-original-width="2881" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJFC31lxMxROzJXJc0DShuQcFxy-n7vC7KldfoWpswCAj-bRH1yaJ_8BcfZDtX2FT40kjApBjWNAt_8Rxg3VAMv-JrMcPapsjdDVQeeJAcV0r7OOl5KEMEFMTND-p9nf4oyfipKMIK_8vaXN8VnqNL-SggAB9Gei1ybCAjp4kjgchtLuSQFwX4GLcKjw/w640-h304/4%20-%20Texted.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He "escaped" from decades of a mind-sapping academic career at University in the late 1980s and began a new life growing our vegetables in his allotment, drawing his illustrated book Fatimah's Kampung and fossicking for books in the second-hand and charity shops with his wife tagging along quite happily in this alien (for a Singaporean) past-time. He gave her free rein to do whatever she fancied, like wandering around in Leicester's charity shops, second hand-book shops on her own, delving into the fascinating world of part-time employment in factories, a plant nursery, Leicester Royal Infirmary and making new friends among her working class mates. Oh, she also enjoyed cooking and sewing. These were all the things she wanted to do after nearly 2 decades of earning her crust as a teacher. I have had enough of teaching, teachers and bureaucrats in a profession which I think was losing its main objectives of teaching and guiding the young. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But most of all, we enjoyed some great walkabouts - not as typical tourists but as students trying to learn from and of other cultures. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkbeQUOfW0wTSIWjDmM4U5aU-v61flCdnahDO3R_lE3lEsPkDOKZgmF-OsvRpt_g9YzH3gNo-xZSOMol4YEnjnXoBVdcVSXe_WEFWgQ2h21JXoFXzKs6S5XSaoikamcsgFAc0g7T-EPwzL2DO9fgY7LSiqH2Ti2CttAIMtBNgml2Kfbj9s1WPv4dFgmA/s1576/5%20-%20Texted.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1576" data-original-width="937" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkbeQUOfW0wTSIWjDmM4U5aU-v61flCdnahDO3R_lE3lEsPkDOKZgmF-OsvRpt_g9YzH3gNo-xZSOMol4YEnjnXoBVdcVSXe_WEFWgQ2h21JXoFXzKs6S5XSaoikamcsgFAc0g7T-EPwzL2DO9fgY7LSiqH2Ti2CttAIMtBNgml2Kfbj9s1WPv4dFgmA/w381-h640/5%20-%20Texted.jpg" width="381" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>There were also other nooks and crannies of the world like in Sri Lanka, South Africa, Canada, USA, France, Italy, and of course East and West Malaysia and New Zealand.<br /><br /></b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But we learned a lot from visiting India, four times for the spouse and twice for me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0sUbbFqgAPm69PElfaTNq5gblHiLEjgZL_tr391M-aZv796vUZeG-HiOgJ_6iMeQ0QRHKjocTW2LCVwiVbJuECd6A1pCoQAQAfIKNc_dooI6kvu92K-iE7qpiSkM9IJAzRrYmuFrhqO3nAJPz-h2FXZfjE0hvC7AfYu2VCJwuBqKXzmtCoPcWFb_j6A/s3515/7%20-%20Texted.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2489" data-original-width="3515" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0sUbbFqgAPm69PElfaTNq5gblHiLEjgZL_tr391M-aZv796vUZeG-HiOgJ_6iMeQ0QRHKjocTW2LCVwiVbJuECd6A1pCoQAQAfIKNc_dooI6kvu92K-iE7qpiSkM9IJAzRrYmuFrhqO3nAJPz-h2FXZfjE0hvC7AfYu2VCJwuBqKXzmtCoPcWFb_j6A/w640-h454/7%20-%20Texted.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>INDIA - Pitha Street in Bombay (now Mumbai) scrupulously described and illustrated in Iain's detailed drawing, 1982.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But nearer home, we entered London only for the purpose of supporting causes close to our hearts that still matter to us today. We walked for Palestine, for the two Intifada and Bosnia. We also marched twice against the war in Iraq and against President Bush's state visit to UK at the height of the invasion of Iraq in 2003.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX5xb1ueB-lK09EoKmsUs47HRynwXz06ycrUNLaF3wvQVNQfPXOuNMnwDPqnswey0PdC3IKFSjskC_DrZfd5IiXRSCaKj6EyV7Nn4baqS6AE9Yir1-7R_4drTP0o59TjgpXZzWA3Ddryyo-J_jn9Y_FV_hQ5XnIdn8v4pscguxTPi9NoVxWMCSYQf8Sg/s3217/6%20-%20Texted.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3217" data-original-width="990" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX5xb1ueB-lK09EoKmsUs47HRynwXz06ycrUNLaF3wvQVNQfPXOuNMnwDPqnswey0PdC3IKFSjskC_DrZfd5IiXRSCaKj6EyV7Nn4baqS6AE9Yir1-7R_4drTP0o59TjgpXZzWA3Ddryyo-J_jn9Y_FV_hQ5XnIdn8v4pscguxTPi9NoVxWMCSYQf8Sg/w196-h640/6%20-%20Texted.jpg" width="196" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Top - For Bosnia (1992-1995) . Centre - with our own home-made poster, November 2003. Bottom - What we think of Bliar's corporate event in KL - a business congress, 24 April 2010.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But our happiest walkabouts were in Northumberland - the ones we shared with Peggy, a good friend and guide, a loving, lovely and adventurous Aunt/Aunt-in-law. She was that way too with our friends (local) and my former students and relatives from Singapore. She was always so welcoming, a warm and generous hostess. She often gives her departing guests presents of her home-made jam. Bless you dear Peggy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivzolOc5JAVoAspTtYoQ5feaNIpUBFPZNrTaU_tPU2Cb9s2VkYRsnd8SKRcaqIAJOjRg4ot0GhCatQMduXuhPDWUu9yfG-bkKa1F0duztpJv5J7JTfoVgLVmJ27REBQ9x6AIKcId4oJWLpoghMHUom-P6SjCNmCwAuejkqGV3BTEXCApEB1OdN0zz45w/s1463/8%20-%20Whitby-1987%20-%20Texted.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1025" data-original-width="1463" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivzolOc5JAVoAspTtYoQ5feaNIpUBFPZNrTaU_tPU2Cb9s2VkYRsnd8SKRcaqIAJOjRg4ot0GhCatQMduXuhPDWUu9yfG-bkKa1F0duztpJv5J7JTfoVgLVmJ27REBQ9x6AIKcId4oJWLpoghMHUom-P6SjCNmCwAuejkqGV3BTEXCApEB1OdN0zz45w/w640-h448/8%20-%20Whitby-1987%20-%20Texted.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Whitby, Boxing Day 1987. Two of my former students came along on that Chistmas holiday, Yuwrajh (in picture) and Rojiah who took the picture.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The biggest wandering of all for us was the semi-move to Kuala Lumpur in 2007.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjepB4QCSaxf4G7uyUXRQ3GXrGUeWwUGglQHeYXc05VVS93lAsGhIcN9MhTK4wl5vJEivqjzg3vwRcoEobZcp3Y70UxWfii73A-KaoFWEp6fH4j3B1wzDsGyJDJxufwvYLjlVe4f5tpS9qvhIEHH4UEfUzVmnxJ6maaLccVm5F4O8hLHMr-ruFm_Cq1-g/s2889/9a%20-%20texted.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2889" data-original-width="1558" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjepB4QCSaxf4G7uyUXRQ3GXrGUeWwUGglQHeYXc05VVS93lAsGhIcN9MhTK4wl5vJEivqjzg3vwRcoEobZcp3Y70UxWfii73A-KaoFWEp6fH4j3B1wzDsGyJDJxufwvYLjlVe4f5tpS9qvhIEHH4UEfUzVmnxJ6maaLccVm5F4O8hLHMr-ruFm_Cq1-g/w346-h640/9a%20-%20texted.jpg" width="346" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The Big Move - 2007</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The main reasons for the move were to be nearer to our families in Malaysia and New Zealand. But it was heart-rending to part with dear friends and Peggy. She passed away at the age of 83 but we were there to be with her towards the end and to see to her last journey to be with all her beloved dogs. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Living in KL was a bag of mixed blessings. Some were painful for it removed a lot of scales from our eyes. But we are mostly thankful, for here in Kuala Lumpur we could stretch our thoughts and writing and it also gave us the best health care (at Tung Shin) - care that we could never receive in Leicester.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">However I believe in searching for the good things that life can offer.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Seek and you shall find. Amongst other things, we discovered this at Sri Rampai, close to where we live.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW_nD3rt76J1uz3IKw7Eahof9nuncw6L71j9TlBQ05FnjEuY-_xwiW94LsG_UCc3EQADy5l7GQhcuiFRvpZRyNbifErQu97FuTfCTr9Mm5hxb9QZnfBkXxu67E18rrOR51RbQ_Slk2AQgBCAnzr3myCQUH6qTtJ_vG7wIgvV-CxO8Apq3KQ4Y6DRkfvA/s5489/12.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2376" data-original-width="5489" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW_nD3rt76J1uz3IKw7Eahof9nuncw6L71j9TlBQ05FnjEuY-_xwiW94LsG_UCc3EQADy5l7GQhcuiFRvpZRyNbifErQu97FuTfCTr9Mm5hxb9QZnfBkXxu67E18rrOR51RbQ_Slk2AQgBCAnzr3myCQUH6qTtJ_vG7wIgvV-CxO8Apq3KQ4Y6DRkfvA/w640-h278/12.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Our 'canal' walk at Sri Rampai. On the left is the canal full to the brim after a heavy downpour and on the right, the trickle of water during a hot spell.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">However, this is the most beautiful sight I've ever seen - and I discovered it in Malaysia!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQVS-7qMAj-cjjruT_9UB2cVsMLL-AFPODyzV0-jvSfB8bpIUftw9HfYtXFBePlGixgUaAM1g1g8gG1eqjis_yjLfvf_GzxN0AUoh2MgjDpwSfSVkOOAqvWFpYEZV5aisrgyz6tBXrWr8kSszVNyVh3kSLfYUXpul9v4yQBAg3RMESLQDhWiMGXcF9HA/s878/12a%20-%20Texted.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="735" data-original-width="878" height="536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQVS-7qMAj-cjjruT_9UB2cVsMLL-AFPODyzV0-jvSfB8bpIUftw9HfYtXFBePlGixgUaAM1g1g8gG1eqjis_yjLfvf_GzxN0AUoh2MgjDpwSfSVkOOAqvWFpYEZV5aisrgyz6tBXrWr8kSszVNyVh3kSLfYUXpul9v4yQBAg3RMESLQDhWiMGXcF9HA/w640-h536/12a%20-%20Texted.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Burung Tempua (weaver bird), arrowed, and it's incredible nest. We are so privileged. It upsets me that that there are crass-hearted people who take/steal their nests (and eggs and babies) to sell to vain customers as decorative items in their gardens. I shall not reveal where we saw that bird and her lovely nest. No, it is nowhere near Sri Rampai or Setiawangsa.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But, we do miss our kampungs where we came from. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9mrrhaVu8mfYVS8Qb1GDnhPtS2DZWgV0j1KENvrskxejrYWvdBCKcZ5rnrCgJre29AtNhm3JE-GGdMTm4xObHNG15Iq9c9XcklJrop0jNA5dDKEF1NEzQO10z-hFZbUdBTH6B5VVsc-5sLPKobYtntxKIBcws-Vi8Q_wyZA__-hZBA29ZeJ0fcH-Lag/s404/13%20-%20texted.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="404" data-original-width="404" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9mrrhaVu8mfYVS8Qb1GDnhPtS2DZWgV0j1KENvrskxejrYWvdBCKcZ5rnrCgJre29AtNhm3JE-GGdMTm4xObHNG15Iq9c9XcklJrop0jNA5dDKEF1NEzQO10z-hFZbUdBTH6B5VVsc-5sLPKobYtntxKIBcws-Vi8Q_wyZA__-hZBA29ZeJ0fcH-Lag/w640-h640/13%20-%20texted.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>(Top) - Iain's Kampung, Victoria Park in late summer/autumn. (Bottom) - My kampung house, 691 Pasir Panjang Road, Singapore, which had been completely expunged and blitzed by the winds of progress and development </b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Oh what it was like to be young and happy-go-lucky.<div><br /><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0pdwwpsjSBoy3Xv0R13CKSZo5BVW_Us05egaMBRHf2E5CEdA-1_NZVCrd2gUWDEw_8vPgqJTLrwFCD8TOKUas2L1O0XluN7i8Z3pUWbAZeezItV_BPnDg1NJqNHtDSgjsb9VKMefNHqzj6U507q7xhMi7vdGYX5_CubasagE2355Ua6n0h232g07uCA/s869/Combi%207%20-Liverpool%20-%20Early%201990s%20-%20with%20text.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="869" data-original-width="486" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0pdwwpsjSBoy3Xv0R13CKSZo5BVW_Us05egaMBRHf2E5CEdA-1_NZVCrd2gUWDEw_8vPgqJTLrwFCD8TOKUas2L1O0XluN7i8Z3pUWbAZeezItV_BPnDg1NJqNHtDSgjsb9VKMefNHqzj6U507q7xhMi7vdGYX5_CubasagE2355Ua6n0h232g07uCA/w224-h400/Combi%207%20-Liverpool%20-%20Early%201990s%20-%20with%20text.jpg" width="224" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Playing elderly in Liverpool, 1989/1990</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNZYUx2qLVDS3AxwUZaBgFNLfNZ3Dv7-1mN5TLUMj1dA5duBE-kZAlz0kej6IdZ-48-0iDdSGE8luKdw17Uk6thMSRX1fRnRFzUacI2RwleIIFKAAeUQ0kl0GdezJphGKUtC0IKLq_ntObE0w-jjz0zdZTPTgOoijV8cj-ciXLG1YjgnwXo4mbboOevA/s1032/2018%20-%20with%20text.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="581" data-original-width="1032" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNZYUx2qLVDS3AxwUZaBgFNLfNZ3Dv7-1mN5TLUMj1dA5duBE-kZAlz0kej6IdZ-48-0iDdSGE8luKdw17Uk6thMSRX1fRnRFzUacI2RwleIIFKAAeUQ0kl0GdezJphGKUtC0IKLq_ntObE0w-jjz0zdZTPTgOoijV8cj-ciXLG1YjgnwXo4mbboOevA/w400-h225/2018%20-%20with%20text.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Truly and really elderly in 2020.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To soothe the hardened arteries, here is this little dissertation from a 50p tea towel.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCCFTwtDkUJCyaryXs5pUxbAHe5ateZ2Ae8KNNG6r9lK0h1QEP1bRhe4GDMiiNqq-Jwo2NIuUZxsOAZc4Jm-7UJOTUnNRsnhhOab705rZhcJOvgWvL1vHhg0E3kEnIjGKgvfN2om4HpbyHJ3XlqOd4RFLovLt4ErQj7EURstVTvtqjXdTs84EDeffWaA/s575/11.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="575" height="556" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCCFTwtDkUJCyaryXs5pUxbAHe5ateZ2Ae8KNNG6r9lK0h1QEP1bRhe4GDMiiNqq-Jwo2NIuUZxsOAZc4Jm-7UJOTUnNRsnhhOab705rZhcJOvgWvL1vHhg0E3kEnIjGKgvfN2om4HpbyHJ3XlqOd4RFLovLt4ErQj7EURstVTvtqjXdTs84EDeffWaA/w640-h556/11.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Indeed we are a "hardy bunch", despite dengue and Covid and whatever life throws at us: including the kitchen sink.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Finally, thank you love, for "watching over me". InsyaAllah we shall carry on trudging, enjoying and making good use of our time on that "less travelled" road together.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Pt5fv-89Maw" width="320" youtube-src-id="Pt5fv-89Maw"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">From your soppy, sentimental, sweet ole tart ... aww shucks .........</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> =============================================</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Taraa to all me ducks out there.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3-3r03eN4olgdRIl8GTUHdRenwgVjy-jvVWvViIE-Kr4gqIuWqaVwJi-k3hZxfgv2aBxeiIKtZ9MDeuQ3onnbSu0Z8yTAge4xF6DGgiK8YL0-XXUME9ZcfB8vRi-Z8y57Tfs39Y0azLCJ1f03oEe6UZOC4rBF8vl5CHoRNcEqIitsHKMzaFweiKVTBQ/s1337/Maungakotukutuku,%20NZ-2012%20-%20Copy.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="806" data-original-width="1337" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3-3r03eN4olgdRIl8GTUHdRenwgVjy-jvVWvViIE-Kr4gqIuWqaVwJi-k3hZxfgv2aBxeiIKtZ9MDeuQ3onnbSu0Z8yTAge4xF6DGgiK8YL0-XXUME9ZcfB8vRi-Z8y57Tfs39Y0azLCJ1f03oEe6UZOC4rBF8vl5CHoRNcEqIitsHKMzaFweiKVTBQ/w400-h241/Maungakotukutuku,%20NZ-2012%20-%20Copy.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Maungakotukutuku, NZ 2012. (photograph taken by Lely)</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div></div></div>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-86716266836316072982022-06-27T01:10:00.006+01:002022-06-28T00:26:37.870+01:00FALLUJAH - 2007 : AnaksiHamid remembering a previous vicious war on and in the Middle East<p> I was clearing a stack of old articles and drafts of our writing about a month ago ......</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimGFTY8_DXOLvEGFVcle1RZiXMTD7AuZbO55RlyJgZfgFu_tNqQFu6M2EUusuGbYcaWGj5Geyhxijd2ALmG5wV97s5JqrfJ5R6muK12rtED7MzDjpiSrJmElUuyEsa-F_Uye2R1H04yhZ_9b9f3pfcYthDpwfIKeEgKsD1cN-M9EorNWrEVVz8MuEQ8g/s4008/20220511_101739%20-%20Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4008" data-original-width="3008" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimGFTY8_DXOLvEGFVcle1RZiXMTD7AuZbO55RlyJgZfgFu_tNqQFu6M2EUusuGbYcaWGj5Geyhxijd2ALmG5wV97s5JqrfJ5R6muK12rtED7MzDjpiSrJmElUuyEsa-F_Uye2R1H04yhZ_9b9f3pfcYthDpwfIKeEgKsD1cN-M9EorNWrEVVz8MuEQ8g/w300-h400/20220511_101739%20-%20Copy.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Seen in the square is just about a quarter of the total accumulation.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>......... when I picked up "Iraq Uncovered" in the<b> New Statesmen of 5 November 2007</b>. One of us must have set it aside for further reading and reference. We subscribed to the NS for a couple of years but stopped when we had to spend more and more time in Kuala Lumpur after 2007.</p><p>I leafed through it and with so much wall-to-wall coverage of the Russo-Ukraine War in the print and electronic media, I thought it might be interesting to compare the way the media, and the world for that matter treat another bloody war, but this time in the heartland of Europe - the land of blondes and blue-eyes - after a series of wars against the darker-skinned "towel-heads ", and extremists, fanatics and jihadists of the Middle East.</p><p>This article covers the war in Fallujah, after Saddam Hussein had been defeated.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw0_Y0f_uDggP1HADe2fEK1AourPpfqEJGfuN79BF1hP9iwUWS0-I4_8rewDbwjcLvbyE4DVRWWnV4b8p9nn80rLdtAUSzZZLcZjsgR8cN93JlMi_BUPSpm3U6fadpHDiAk7MDhzJfqf3UcmjQTNlbuEdXbSNQtXDCIeVtDlf6auYnk18IL8IlTQ6ldQ/s1249/Fallujah%201%20-%20Copy.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="313" data-original-width="1249" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw0_Y0f_uDggP1HADe2fEK1AourPpfqEJGfuN79BF1hP9iwUWS0-I4_8rewDbwjcLvbyE4DVRWWnV4b8p9nn80rLdtAUSzZZLcZjsgR8cN93JlMi_BUPSpm3U6fadpHDiAk7MDhzJfqf3UcmjQTNlbuEdXbSNQtXDCIeVtDlf6auYnk18IL8IlTQ6ldQ/w640-h160/Fallujah%201%20-%20Copy.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjquk23A2CdFmF6dnBviD4K2ZK8IfpPP9u9WHXRnHsi-_YWg5aNzZO7_lzvAh7Kh3LZuimDGUlTB1y9cGefjx4mjexj53pH4Y4TipYaZjoappnL7jFD5q5STCSUHfICLUOdV-XcCy4jg0ar8bBLaTtk-PFGZu-n7NHtvva8ylKuSe5okEx3jS20UWOQIQ/s1274/Fallujah%202.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="443" data-original-width="1274" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjquk23A2CdFmF6dnBviD4K2ZK8IfpPP9u9WHXRnHsi-_YWg5aNzZO7_lzvAh7Kh3LZuimDGUlTB1y9cGefjx4mjexj53pH4Y4TipYaZjoappnL7jFD5q5STCSUHfICLUOdV-XcCy4jg0ar8bBLaTtk-PFGZu-n7NHtvva8ylKuSe5okEx3jS20UWOQIQ/w640-h222/Fallujah%202.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>The names given to these wars in the Middle East - wars between <b>Whisky Charlie Whisky</b> or White Christian West and<b> Delta Mike Tango</b> or Dark Muslim Terrorists (I am resorting to the NATO Phonetic Alphabet, see key at end of posting ) never fail to amuse me. Names such as <b>Operation Phantom Fury</b> and<b> Operation Vigilant Resolve</b> sound like a crusading and evangelistic clarion call - the stuff of Gothic comics and books! But I digress.</p><p><br /></p><p>The copy of the article in the New Statesmen (5 November 2007) was :</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-T7KvK8v_Wbpa5n-_jLCTvMLhj3XoDRICej-xb5GHmBdD-C7aS2f-fohoLnaZUtIqxyl5AMMzsAo-fF9ZZdE0mDfTgCIoJX-_IVlZHEG91fu8QZ42UlpRf_ICWyrcfHwUe3CihFXN36PNJ83bZVBsHsB640vkq4RRD2eeCXeLcBHn6yAcyCjnV3-Dxg/s2155/29%20-%20Copy%20(3).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2155" data-original-width="821" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-T7KvK8v_Wbpa5n-_jLCTvMLhj3XoDRICej-xb5GHmBdD-C7aS2f-fohoLnaZUtIqxyl5AMMzsAo-fF9ZZdE0mDfTgCIoJX-_IVlZHEG91fu8QZ42UlpRf_ICWyrcfHwUe3CihFXN36PNJ83bZVBsHsB640vkq4RRD2eeCXeLcBHn6yAcyCjnV3-Dxg/w244-h640/29%20-%20Copy%20(3).jpg" width="244" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Report consisted of a series of photographs and captions by Ashley Gilbertson, an article by Dahr Jamail and another by Brian Cathcart.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">See : <a href="http://www.ashleygilbertson.com/whiskey-tango-foxtrot">http://www.ashleygilbertson.com/whiskey-tango-foxtrot</a><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;">See : <a href="https://www.newstatesman.com/author/brian-cathcart">https://www.newstatesman.com/author/brian-cathcart</a></span></p><p><br /></p><p>Here's an overview of pages 29 - 36 of the NS Report.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSKceszwKLUQxxAwikdQNFbf4AtosVFXZis-iHMwkuMYUWez_p0yCPdW4sOBXAYcM0nt4jIB_rlu-HlO4SoC4mVGvFx4cmUfi9jiognuoVz1UiP_nsOzPTUokffCUfn0agxWtSO3Vjpl5HEG1dRAjI4j4hM1N5nnVtMMWGApNcdifBlSv5Qwa3v7E0uA/s5088/Combi%201.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3504" data-original-width="5088" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSKceszwKLUQxxAwikdQNFbf4AtosVFXZis-iHMwkuMYUWez_p0yCPdW4sOBXAYcM0nt4jIB_rlu-HlO4SoC4mVGvFx4cmUfi9jiognuoVz1UiP_nsOzPTUokffCUfn0agxWtSO3Vjpl5HEG1dRAjI4j4hM1N5nnVtMMWGApNcdifBlSv5Qwa3v7E0uA/w400-h275/Combi%201.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Page 29 - 30</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjca4s7AcmDKgmf1PPRmxQQ9FJqUJsstHy-YkeyEjw1v1w4XipLnBBRcyDnhGqkrjjIkbps1pzkQD-X3MPGbNEKQzoQNsI1rnYjoiCpzXMqyGzy83Jcby6c6IAKqvw9FbWWcNnbUY6u9UFy70h9ifv-6HlSq5_wiuYw6AdbWSYGRe4WaEuDvqiPLRSqFg/s5088/Combi%202.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3504" data-original-width="5088" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjca4s7AcmDKgmf1PPRmxQQ9FJqUJsstHy-YkeyEjw1v1w4XipLnBBRcyDnhGqkrjjIkbps1pzkQD-X3MPGbNEKQzoQNsI1rnYjoiCpzXMqyGzy83Jcby6c6IAKqvw9FbWWcNnbUY6u9UFy70h9ifv-6HlSq5_wiuYw6AdbWSYGRe4WaEuDvqiPLRSqFg/w400-h275/Combi%202.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Page 31 - 32</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYEKHOx9ZJanVNEgpjqNuxLAdvX4GSw9wvA53gZdktaGHNq_36cVkESX9-nLyyDRiLDNwe4FPc2KAV7MBPQKlBJHatEjYhLl7NzHUT8DYNKetkEODD60AP8K7Zeli3BimYA078k95CqWVPtWuCOoN3dweSyv8dnhE_jmbGTNpk9LZmrkbknXMzbSd6ng/s5088/Combi%203.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3504" data-original-width="5088" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYEKHOx9ZJanVNEgpjqNuxLAdvX4GSw9wvA53gZdktaGHNq_36cVkESX9-nLyyDRiLDNwe4FPc2KAV7MBPQKlBJHatEjYhLl7NzHUT8DYNKetkEODD60AP8K7Zeli3BimYA078k95CqWVPtWuCOoN3dweSyv8dnhE_jmbGTNpk9LZmrkbknXMzbSd6ng/w400-h275/Combi%203.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Page 33 - 34</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtuwsasgS9foKb7IHEnbbuj_j-qbJaY2Vj7r3OQdqrL87i_SSsC12pEgXKt9KcwoiZHP4PTvzRlA1QDFzYWrFJOzGTJe1aYOdyt7InCB1X-zosC7dneuwc9bvRqAIeA-Tdr9P-VKRPUs4vzd0ylCdRGTLV_nBT6YHM63ptg_yqX6Pno44kLKLkBQlAXQ/s5088/Combi%204.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3504" data-original-width="5088" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtuwsasgS9foKb7IHEnbbuj_j-qbJaY2Vj7r3OQdqrL87i_SSsC12pEgXKt9KcwoiZHP4PTvzRlA1QDFzYWrFJOzGTJe1aYOdyt7InCB1X-zosC7dneuwc9bvRqAIeA-Tdr9P-VKRPUs4vzd0ylCdRGTLV_nBT6YHM63ptg_yqX6Pno44kLKLkBQlAXQ/w640-h440/Combi%204.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Page 35 - 36</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Let's take a closer look</u></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b><u><br /></u></b></span></p><p><span><b style="font-size: large;">1. </b><b>What did you do in the War, Daddy?</b></span></p><p><span><b> </b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii4BXwQ8_3DBDfvyF34F19XBXhYGCsqVLyZ46C97GfLQAQqdUKFSh0pfHQoQyHNaXqm2z4tSkU-3F1pYd2Z39bUcqo6YjXBr-KLbwDUNnWGwGKZwq_4YClTId_hAq4xTDOHFhVyG-4tVgR2wyA3flB2HO7NCmLL3GmIKAxfS4vA23zOISEMO3CQ-dcPw/s633/War%20Daddy.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="633" data-original-width="508" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii4BXwQ8_3DBDfvyF34F19XBXhYGCsqVLyZ46C97GfLQAQqdUKFSh0pfHQoQyHNaXqm2z4tSkU-3F1pYd2Z39bUcqo6YjXBr-KLbwDUNnWGwGKZwq_4YClTId_hAq4xTDOHFhVyG-4tVgR2wyA3flB2HO7NCmLL3GmIKAxfS4vA23zOISEMO3CQ-dcPw/w514-h640/War%20Daddy.PNG" width="514" /></a></b></span></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>This was a campaign during the First World War to emotionally blackmail men into conscription for the War which had been described as a war where lions were led by donkeys.</p><p>This meme was used in the 1966 comedy "Daddy, what did you do in the war?". Often it serves as a ploy to make fun of men who can't refrain from recalling and sometimes re-inventing their war experiences to their sometimes bored and long-suffering audience.</p><p>But, I cannot resist this either; using this same caption to American, British and their Allies' participation in the war in Fallujah, as revealed in these photos by Ashley Gilbertson.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC4s7lZNa5RbnCWD3j-FwPoZ_ryebCJ-95_lsgQCCamnQUTLpXD1e4032ETpUSa8DCl5sqpl034UxH8vJ7QgmgJLT-pstqUxpdgIXLOmZ6edhmf9gYm1dc1IFvOSPAlYN-wZSKRkL_HA2r4DqCAxMdwacA5i0zCmtgrARX6IrutVBoX-Bkq-hgMeOHHA/s1310/Combi%202.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1310" data-original-width="860" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC4s7lZNa5RbnCWD3j-FwPoZ_ryebCJ-95_lsgQCCamnQUTLpXD1e4032ETpUSa8DCl5sqpl034UxH8vJ7QgmgJLT-pstqUxpdgIXLOmZ6edhmf9gYm1dc1IFvOSPAlYN-wZSKRkL_HA2r4DqCAxMdwacA5i0zCmtgrARX6IrutVBoX-Bkq-hgMeOHHA/w420-h640/Combi%202.jpg" width="420" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>What did you do in the war, Daddy/Mummy? By the way, how do you say 'suntan' in Polish? (Above photo and caption by Ashley Gilbertson)<br /><br /></b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMh_5RXCAj5zylhLRbDEO8fUsfr0dgGXKho5HqJ7Xbv-lDW44CML0jg6qtYwwfOtgcgdbNpLusfDpd8-CanMIkIy2CGXJa2N1At1nqmgbcbqiWdeNs1dsGRgxF7y1JEtpDaLsBfZtKO9d4Upw0YwwJ5xXJy9K3MRcdfkU3F4X5FJffhBKZo6bs_aqo7w/s653/Combi%205.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="653" height="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMh_5RXCAj5zylhLRbDEO8fUsfr0dgGXKho5HqJ7Xbv-lDW44CML0jg6qtYwwfOtgcgdbNpLusfDpd8-CanMIkIy2CGXJa2N1At1nqmgbcbqiWdeNs1dsGRgxF7y1JEtpDaLsBfZtKO9d4Upw0YwwJ5xXJy9K3MRcdfkU3F4X5FJffhBKZo6bs_aqo7w/w640-h602/Combi%205.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>What did you do in the war, Daddy? <i>I watched a recruitment campaign for the Klu Klux Klan. Now buzz off and practise your hangman's knot. </i> (Above photo and caption by Ashley Gilbertson)</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4skxhFPosNP3lzqqmUNMM7O-NLvSDbdWtZKL9Geu1225XTTDPggLnr_VVIpIM36NFeYaj5dlFFf84YdP5I93KRXa5hOSfpcSVu65yz6J_3pe4kVLFLUFoR1mKAc0K4pB5vpLW-dao_uf1ZGjGvycFP1G9VQ2Se_SL7k66nv6Mvu40qkBBAcSh5_tdUQ/s987/Combi%207.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="987" data-original-width="433" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4skxhFPosNP3lzqqmUNMM7O-NLvSDbdWtZKL9Geu1225XTTDPggLnr_VVIpIM36NFeYaj5dlFFf84YdP5I93KRXa5hOSfpcSVu65yz6J_3pe4kVLFLUFoR1mKAc0K4pB5vpLW-dao_uf1ZGjGvycFP1G9VQ2Se_SL7k66nv6Mvu40qkBBAcSh5_tdUQ/w280-h640/Combi%207.jpg" width="280" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>What did you do in the war, Daddy? </b><b style="font-style: italic;"> I'm trying to get him to say, "Please don't kill me" with sugar on it. </b> <b>Daddy, what is Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot?<i> Go and practise your shooting with grand-dad!</i></b><b> (Above photo and caption by Ashley Gilbertson)</b></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYf63SXtg3siEPcmt8n9MGsXiJ4mG7gBwarv3cjFULBmrsp-15v1Z_R1zRThUyAR7Y6tTwcmYMbNkI7Sr6QdXlYm-R4IbrQzb_CszzeIiZPkgju9TA8KffHQEkPyFRQNHOF-i0qLEPxpMRKcViewgDFxe9cha2rAX3cd_J6AmbVpv9p8VJ7mBXLDhjA/s1618/Combi%206.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="840" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYf63SXtg3siEPcmt8n9MGsXiJ4mG7gBwarv3cjFULBmrsp-15v1Z_R1zRThUyAR7Y6tTwcmYMbNkI7Sr6QdXlYm-R4IbrQzb_CszzeIiZPkgju9TA8KffHQEkPyFRQNHOF-i0qLEPxpMRKcViewgDFxe9cha2rAX3cd_J6AmbVpv9p8VJ7mBXLDhjA/w332-h640/Combi%206.jpg" width="332" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>What did you do in the war, Daddy? <i> I was teaching TEFL or Teaching English as a Foreign Language. By the way how are you getting on in your Spanish class?</i> (Above photo and caption by Ashley Gilbertson)</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>2. Cultural Exchange between the United States of America and Iraq, post Saddam Hussein.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_ySbFqyD48FtpasTey-2c1ZxBMIYQh1zfKnakjrdKvnWQsMUwZwTKMrdr1Lw92CSiFJaiSS8qWSzda8SHqHK6rzXt6QOTZUa4mfQNvEBT-21RUJPo3xsju3BRdSOF-EkFE2QQaeTUwxyB_KtFSOTqZjOMVvLpG8oALnM_KP2xNommS4y7Hk41F4ixQ/s611/Combi%203.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="611" height="604" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_ySbFqyD48FtpasTey-2c1ZxBMIYQh1zfKnakjrdKvnWQsMUwZwTKMrdr1Lw92CSiFJaiSS8qWSzda8SHqHK6rzXt6QOTZUa4mfQNvEBT-21RUJPo3xsju3BRdSOF-EkFE2QQaeTUwxyB_KtFSOTqZjOMVvLpG8oALnM_KP2xNommS4y7Hk41F4ixQ/w640-h604/Combi%203.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Welcome to Iraq, Yankee Brother! (Above photo and caption by Ashley Gilbertson)</b></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><b><br /></b></span><p></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzGMdN6i2ElIiEzYpSF_ql-bdmJ-mzh1EMovahD-baj8UjnH6_rQx9udQVlX_bJr9Pwklrz3oXQ2N_ajcU4MaJK_N027xotOO0ibJtIRshykrEz7Jds5d41Oe61-X92FkAYYNriaHhlybnBtMCsmmDcuYUW0lOBCWSuPLAJbvR5xzJeIeV_hv2F0hQ8Q/s774/Combi%204.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="774" data-original-width="656" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzGMdN6i2ElIiEzYpSF_ql-bdmJ-mzh1EMovahD-baj8UjnH6_rQx9udQVlX_bJr9Pwklrz3oXQ2N_ajcU4MaJK_N027xotOO0ibJtIRshykrEz7Jds5d41Oe61-X92FkAYYNriaHhlybnBtMCsmmDcuYUW0lOBCWSuPLAJbvR5xzJeIeV_hv2F0hQ8Q/w542-h640/Combi%204.jpg" width="542" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Disneyfication and Anglification/Winnification/Poohification of Ramadan. When will we imitate this for Ramadan in Malaysia? As it is we are already going crackers over Firecrackers and fired up by Fireworks during Ramadan and Hari Raya!!! (Above photo and caption by Ashley Gilbertson)</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The above photographs are from <b>Whiskey Tango Foxtrot : a Photographer's Chronicle of the Iraq War</b> published by the University of Chicago Press.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXK80r7s0-Mj5cJR7rfDqxX_mSd0aGKk_6-9JvpT_g3ZxW4XUqJo_s8DDK1JZnSVIBM8GdQvJ9uNvr_y1I4HXgOFeG5LjsrYr2OKi_jaPtsHMTnn1HM3iikwh1sj-ilRHxWcqQGWnbxSzeYH_SKXYCK0OeHzTpuvsHyO3Sdg5USceQFAkhfhEnNC3qvQ/s1027/Gilbertson%202.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="699" data-original-width="1027" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXK80r7s0-Mj5cJR7rfDqxX_mSd0aGKk_6-9JvpT_g3ZxW4XUqJo_s8DDK1JZnSVIBM8GdQvJ9uNvr_y1I4HXgOFeG5LjsrYr2OKi_jaPtsHMTnn1HM3iikwh1sj-ilRHxWcqQGWnbxSzeYH_SKXYCK0OeHzTpuvsHyO3Sdg5USceQFAkhfhEnNC3qvQ/w640-h436/Gilbertson%202.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>3. What I saw in Fallujah by Dahr Jamail, a journalist not embedded with the US Army.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Read <a href="https://www.newstatesman.com/long-reads/2007/11/iraq-fallujah-city-military">https://www.newstatesman.com/long-reads/2007/11/iraq-fallujah-city-military</a></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span>Here's the last page of Dahr Jamail's Report. </span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghh1XO2_C8tTgmgdKvpj6z5HWdcWJh3HK30xsXgsJW317uGl_-fQXIkksAbNfr44hrfHDClxZJacHJirh_9tnAjoJtVspDO90YT5FMLt8OT7r26uJxb1oLshfVtIq21Wq-5LwHN_kU-FOYUvJbhGmAlVxg9Dw_02hKHuAEq1rGXR_Hdsy2BkjX1XYeCQ/s3271/C.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3271" data-original-width="2550" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghh1XO2_C8tTgmgdKvpj6z5HWdcWJh3HK30xsXgsJW317uGl_-fQXIkksAbNfr44hrfHDClxZJacHJirh_9tnAjoJtVspDO90YT5FMLt8OT7r26uJxb1oLshfVtIq21Wq-5LwHN_kU-FOYUvJbhGmAlVxg9Dw_02hKHuAEq1rGXR_Hdsy2BkjX1XYeCQ/w498-h640/C.jpg" width="498" /></a></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGRh2hZOqMDHs8sOOHswgEkrGjmbaIYUpCIbljqdOv9BfYDEqAd-DmJ5VG-_LNxEqaYf-GMuRd6JhWWsBraqycyow_6VRvzacZBkchoDBXTY0IJVNQtOwsNmW4v0ldYhd2kIJQp5tyx_PCCodzUaXDu8g1gvvfuH3GlkjZc1hzrVJzx8_0HDNRKyTuRw/s856/C%20-%20Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="220" data-original-width="856" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGRh2hZOqMDHs8sOOHswgEkrGjmbaIYUpCIbljqdOv9BfYDEqAd-DmJ5VG-_LNxEqaYf-GMuRd6JhWWsBraqycyow_6VRvzacZBkchoDBXTY0IJVNQtOwsNmW4v0ldYhd2kIJQp5tyx_PCCodzUaXDu8g1gvvfuH3GlkjZc1hzrVJzx8_0HDNRKyTuRw/w640-h164/C%20-%20Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p> </p><p>Here's a quote by Dahr Jamail</p><p><b><i>"The story of the many oppressed peoples of the world is rarely recorded by the few who oppress. We are taught that the truth is objective fact as written down by conquerors " -</i>Dahr Jamail.</b></p><p><br /></p><p>Has the standard of journalism and the nature of the truth changed at all? Fast forward from 2007 to the reports on the Ukraine war of 2022.</p><p>Speaking as a non-white and a Muslim, I ask myself: "If the media coverage of Ukraine is how White/Christian Culture deal with their Tribal/Ideological Wars, what hope is there for us "Others" to expect a fair deal? And anyway, let's be realistic, why should they report any differently? "</p><p>Let's just remember:</p><p><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">There are many victims of war. But some get a better script.</span></b> </span></p><p>But here's a powerful film, "Fallujah, The Hidden Massacre" by Sigfrido Ranucci qnd Maurizio Torrealta (8 November 2005) .</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiQTR00xmafjU5mO9IcXweo4geeGsB58_7YYCZT95sWxVXnScI5UMcfdgztkqp8NVEtUBZOToB61CqP7t3ph2tDT65F2IJNcl7x1T0nZU4n8je2YmTCN5_3sg3Hrq-Pmm-TWTz7o4K8Mpe3A4wf9tY_UhkMm3WBldgl_NhXEv_t8lYLq7cua9GUhg7rA/s1100/Fallujah%203.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="873" data-original-width="1100" height="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiQTR00xmafjU5mO9IcXweo4geeGsB58_7YYCZT95sWxVXnScI5UMcfdgztkqp8NVEtUBZOToB61CqP7t3ph2tDT65F2IJNcl7x1T0nZU4n8je2YmTCN5_3sg3Hrq-Pmm-TWTz7o4K8Mpe3A4wf9tY_UhkMm3WBldgl_NhXEv_t8lYLq7cua9GUhg7rA/w640-h508/Fallujah%203.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvr32UiKa5hPXyAHumUx3ou7QYX3XfeeFoKd-XeKX_CSMmOoWzO81AzLFFY3q86p3Yd_VUUUjgw3dShr2FehN2OB4TBAfshSkyL0Kg1TdjZ6Jru5aquFjRtqlpiBrrwnJVQPz8CE2IOIw3aJHSpfk3kecYgFZApxnqp1MqHlJh0eVEjb7JlSX45f-ow/s1175/Video.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="507" data-original-width="1175" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvr32UiKa5hPXyAHumUx3ou7QYX3XfeeFoKd-XeKX_CSMmOoWzO81AzLFFY3q86p3Yd_VUUUjgw3dShr2FehN2OB4TBAfshSkyL0Kg1TdjZ6Jru5aquFjRtqlpiBrrwnJVQPz8CE2IOIw3aJHSpfk3kecYgFZApxnqp1MqHlJh0eVEjb7JlSX45f-ow/w640-h276/Video.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">See : </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TgSmsMIUZ60" style="text-align: left;">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TgSmsMIUZ60</a></div><p><br /></p><p><b>This video is age-restricted. You must sign in to confirm your age. </b>No, you do not have to submit your birth certificate - just an email address and BOOM they get all your details. The world is indeed getting smaller - in more (unacceptable) ways than one - despite Louis Armstrong's " What a wonderful world".</p><p><br /></p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p><br /></p><p>Appendix : The NATO Phonetic Alphabet</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgopgWSsbYBQoAukwiDYObrUQbmIa59gr6CR9mzx3ZnO5qa3A7di80YiMstHhhpV4C7kU9A_iIIoFzF8XK-P6O-AGWDGafIJv8OjgA0LU60UK76VeGRT0ZgPttlHSQG8gqDYq6OdnYszY_ZbqP8pi9Zi_SPwPL5JOTNZM2QT__KrVLkgY_dR6rVBJYc9Q/s1025/NATO.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="711" data-original-width="1025" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgopgWSsbYBQoAukwiDYObrUQbmIa59gr6CR9mzx3ZnO5qa3A7di80YiMstHhhpV4C7kU9A_iIIoFzF8XK-P6O-AGWDGafIJv8OjgA0LU60UK76VeGRT0ZgPttlHSQG8gqDYq6OdnYszY_ZbqP8pi9Zi_SPwPL5JOTNZM2QT__KrVLkgY_dR6rVBJYc9Q/w400-h278/NATO.PNG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>Whiskey Charlie Whiskey = White Christian West. (AsH's version)</p><p>Delta Mike Tango = Dark Muslim Terrorists. (AsH's version)</p><p>You can have a great time devising your own secret language.</p><p>As for Whiskey Tango Foxtrot : here is the original (military) meaning.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTmTdNaCT9XUTzMWLGXh2vYtpUoevQq86oe3jpGni-RRFFGz5zW7epT86_csHTQxlh1zve7s0V7goDuGT7ZLgMRhK0u27qhM1r55_hq46GqSDsi3wjCN9GMnPffN8VsnqNnIZY3swwFBwdszH6TfoIJwrhQZgL3PsaUrZ_tDFhDVJ3X_hfOdiOJw_7tw/s952/WTF%202.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="517" data-original-width="952" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTmTdNaCT9XUTzMWLGXh2vYtpUoevQq86oe3jpGni-RRFFGz5zW7epT86_csHTQxlh1zve7s0V7goDuGT7ZLgMRhK0u27qhM1r55_hq46GqSDsi3wjCN9GMnPffN8VsnqNnIZY3swwFBwdszH6TfoIJwrhQZgL3PsaUrZ_tDFhDVJ3X_hfOdiOJw_7tw/w640-h348/WTF%202.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><p>The above image is taken from - <a href="https://www.acronymfinder.com/Military-and-Government/WTF.html">https://www.acronymfinder.com/Military-and-Government/WTF.html</a><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>But ....... Whiskey Tango Foxtrot can also mean different things to different people!</p><p>But old ladies like me cannot divulge any of them.😈 </p><p>The young will have to do their own homework.😁</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-81378419040815665402022-05-05T07:57:00.003+01:002022-06-27T00:50:42.685+01:00My Solar System - an observation on Hari Raya Aidilfitri May 2022<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx-mIhV3i7eGX-tXrlyYJgD2masHZ5PL8kZ4Bu5gSqz2x0gJfdMpl-O4PQOp8Xp1fjLbscsh_aB9_izytVdn5DVzz0Dbbwd1uf6usm54EKP-Wc3bhAORMmx4CszQ-hUju-qVbPpW2ptgrp0tcfgGZ2wjDZlaTipvwldgrHGudws3_jJYTGvIgNN5EVMw/s1177/Combi%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="1177" height="626" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx-mIhV3i7eGX-tXrlyYJgD2masHZ5PL8kZ4Bu5gSqz2x0gJfdMpl-O4PQOp8Xp1fjLbscsh_aB9_izytVdn5DVzz0Dbbwd1uf6usm54EKP-Wc3bhAORMmx4CszQ-hUju-qVbPpW2ptgrp0tcfgGZ2wjDZlaTipvwldgrHGudws3_jJYTGvIgNN5EVMw/w640-h626/Combi%201.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>We expected Eid on the third of May! But the panic was felt most by all the Emak, Mama, Ibu, Mummy and Umi in Malaysia - the cooking, the children's outfits, the curtains and cushion covers to be changed, the sweeping and cleaning inside and outside the house, the cutlery, crockery, glasses, tablecloths to be laid out and on top of it all, the last minute shopping that had been planned for the last day of Ramadan. </p><p>But we all know Mothers are superwomen! They will see all this through no matter what.</p><p>I can recall two occasions when this happened - when Hari Raya fell on the day before the expected/scheduled date on the calendar.</p><p>It happened the first time when I was a young teacher in Sekolah Menengah Yusof Ishak / Yusof Ishak Secondary School, West Coast Road, Singapore during the late 1960s, sometime between 1967 and 1970. On Hari Raya Day, all Malay and Muslim students (including those in the English medium) were allowed time to attend the Hari Raya prayers and they had then to report back to school as usual. Their Hari Raya holiday would be officially celebrated on the second day of Hari Raya Aidil Fitri.</p><p>Well, the Malay-Muslim teachers in the school, all men, most of them older than this female in her early 20s turned to me and said, </p><p>"<i>Cikgu pergi lah jumpa Mr Lazaroo</i> (the Principal) <i>dan minta cuti satu hari untuk kita orang!" (</i>Teacher, why don't you ask Mr Lazaroo (the Principal) for a day off (on Eid) for us?)</p><p>They forgot I am the bolshie/maverick AnaksiHamid and I replied very nicely, <i>"Cikgu semua pergi lah sendiri minta rayuan Mr Lazaroo</i>!" (Teachers, why don't all of you make a plea to Mr Lazaroo?) That was the end of that. Good try! To put <i>my</i> head on the block while <i>they</i> skulk in the background. If it works, great for them. If it doesn't, only Maznoor will be in the dog-house. We shall just go home and and carry on, our record remains intact. They would certainly say, "<i>Tak cuba, tak tahu" </i>(If you don't ask, you will never know). Except for my record, if it fails!!!! Aaah, the early signs (for me) of Malay-Muslim-Males' strategy and tactics. Hardly Malay Sun Tzu, but very typical.</p><p>So all we Malays and Muslims had to go by the book. On Hari Raya all the teachers duly turned up after Prayers, but - bully for them - hardly any of the kids turned up at all. They took the risk and were willing to face the consequences! The bravery of youth - the young who are unaccountable to the boring mores and dregs of the old.</p><p>The second time occurred some ten years later in 1977 at the Chinese/English Integrated Jurong Secondary School, Corporation Road, Singapore. I was as usual in the minority English stream. But I was no pipsqueak! I was now the Senior Assistant for the English Stream. Mind you, it took me some years to get there. Some or most of my peer group from Singapore University were Principals by now - despite my very extensive Curriculum Vitae and my post graduate qualification from London University. But beggars can't be choosers, can they?</p><p>By the mid-1970s, the Malay (and Tamil) medium schools in Singapore were dying out, as more and more parents decided to send their children to English schools. The tail-end of the the Malay stream from Yusof Ishak Secondary were all shifted to Jurong - about 2-3 classes if my memory serves me well. When the Public holiday for Hari Raya Aidil Fitri (I cannot remember the exact year) fell on the second day of Hari Raya again, life and school went on as usual. Hari Raya or no Hari Raya, Malays and Muslims reported for school after the Prayers.</p><p>In the next few days and a week or so after that, stories, snipings and grumbles were coming back to me, about how Miss Hamid (my nomenclature then in JSS, not Cikgu Maznoor as in Yusof Ishak), as a Muslim and the Senior Assistant, should have spoken up for them, especially the Malay medium section to give them concessions to celebrate Hari Raya in the full sense of the celebration - to grant them an additional 'Public Holiday' so to speak. I left it alone until it became personal, very personal, and I feared a repetition of what happened to me in Yusof Ishak when they applied the tactic of <i>"tak dapat dengan cara kasar, kita gunakan cara halus" </i>(If we can't get you one way, we shall find a subtler way)<i> </i></p><p>I had to do what was then necessary to maintain the morale and administration of Jurong Secondary School- and with the permission of the Principal we had an emergency Staff Meeting to explain the policy of the School (and the Government ) about Hari Raya Public Holidays on the second day of Hari Raya. I also asked that this should be explained to the pupils as well and that Miss Hamid does not have the power or the credentials to make adjustments to a government edict.</p><p>I had had enough of teaching in Singapore - whether in a Malay-English Integrated School (1967-1974) or in a Chinese-English Integrated School (1975-1977). </p><p>I would soon have an interview for a teaching appointment in Brunei. In February 1978, I left my Singapore teaching days for good. Brunei was good to me (1978-1984) and by then Singapore had become merely a transit station for me. By 1986 I had no more reasons to stay.</p><p>So Hari Raya 2022 brought back this septuagenarian's memorable moments of 'premature' Hari Raya days/daze! </p><p> ----------------------------------------------------</p><p><br /></p><p>It also sets her thinking of more ethereal and astronomical things like the sun and the moon and the stars and loved ones.</p><p>The moon is such a crucial feature in the life of a Malay-Muslim. One of his most significant religious activities like Ramadan and the festival of Eid is determined by the sighting of the moon. Even the word for 'month' is 'Bulan' which is the Moon. Endless love songs and music and poems and novels have been written in honour of the moon. Even the word for madness is derived from ' lunacy' , an ailment connected to the transits of the moon.</p><p>An old Malay school poem comes to mind.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstQkqpkp1tuw07Zchvbb6FWldd_yBxRTQ9OOA3slL0rS5Cjh94SfyBsLDyLx-bzD458_TC8ltb1qDKmyAPnFiB5G5LMa4jSjZd5m5nXo3AEuXDEce8L405dGorCL2GmehtQe0Ut2E2rlEi73yQPGJFXMppfT--YrJOWM_c2Jw7kLpVXepNvDBR4HUUw/s2823/24%20-%20Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2823" data-original-width="2144" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstQkqpkp1tuw07Zchvbb6FWldd_yBxRTQ9OOA3slL0rS5Cjh94SfyBsLDyLx-bzD458_TC8ltb1qDKmyAPnFiB5G5LMa4jSjZd5m5nXo3AEuXDEce8L405dGorCL2GmehtQe0Ut2E2rlEi73yQPGJFXMppfT--YrJOWM_c2Jw7kLpVXepNvDBR4HUUw/w486-h640/24%20-%20Copy.jpg" width="486" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>This is from my Primary School Malay textbook. "Beneh Akal" ( The seed of wisdom) when I was attending Pasir Panjang English School.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>I loved these lines : <b><i>Bulan tanya pada bintang, </i>(The moon asks of the stars)</b></p><p><b><i> Mana jatoh mata hari.</i> (Where does the sun set.)</b></p><p><b><i><br /></i></b></p><p>This Hari Raya, I remember my moon and my sun. (The title of this love song from the 1960s is "The moon enclosed by the stars")</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/FkoozINkPAM" width="320" youtube-src-id="FkoozINkPAM"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlM0dKtcHttl1iQnXJIp-5-FH1_qdLwWtuM60ZRYhkr_a0iXatKakKCihIpD_n7d0Ogti3g64I17QSUWDHxULTn9ytwFQdAIo8nVWjX8mukQSz6lObDlrGFhATgrmd72qClP25cBXrxsVL5EWzpeY67nuXQAnmAvVox9NIET2W2_XIP7S5Qke1kRrOBA/s4113/Combi%201%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3235" data-original-width="4113" height="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlM0dKtcHttl1iQnXJIp-5-FH1_qdLwWtuM60ZRYhkr_a0iXatKakKCihIpD_n7d0Ogti3g64I17QSUWDHxULTn9ytwFQdAIo8nVWjX8mukQSz6lObDlrGFhATgrmd72qClP25cBXrxsVL5EWzpeY67nuXQAnmAvVox9NIET2W2_XIP7S5Qke1kRrOBA/w640-h504/Combi%201%20(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>My mother the moon and my father the sun on Hari Raya 1950, at 680 Pasir Panjang Road, Singapore.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><p> --------------------------------------</p><p><i style="font-weight: bold;">Malam terang, nampak bayang, </i>(<b>The night is bright, the shadows are visible.)</b></p><p><b><i>Banyak bintang kawan bulan. </i>(So many stars, so many friends of the moon.)</b></p><p><b><i><br /></i></b></p><p><b></b></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmRt0baMPtr40NKSWm9tbS1D5H-Wzt0DXzTohPmxiD4RMl0412GJYq-zKb6n8xqUkK0xWR5OBzJffGNT3Vf_IeQMDmUC1lmxR5h420zVdNYo7LLme9otnHFfl__QQVYn8ymZ_fp_S2RYkoHSWQ4O48MwYlpZJWcPOex8OoKBk3Ll3khzpeDlUQ3CS4xw/s803/680,%20PP%20rd%20Grayscale%201.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="554" data-original-width="803" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmRt0baMPtr40NKSWm9tbS1D5H-Wzt0DXzTohPmxiD4RMl0412GJYq-zKb6n8xqUkK0xWR5OBzJffGNT3Vf_IeQMDmUC1lmxR5h420zVdNYo7LLme9otnHFfl__QQVYn8ymZ_fp_S2RYkoHSWQ4O48MwYlpZJWcPOex8OoKBk3Ll3khzpeDlUQ3CS4xw/w640-h442/680,%20PP%20rd%20Grayscale%201.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Emak with her 3 stars - the 4th (Mustakim) was still an infant, having a snooze inside the house. Abah made those Hari Raya Stars.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><b><br /><i><br /></i></b><p></p><p><b><i> ------------------------------------------------------------</i></b></p><p>But their second star, is so happy (over the moon!) to have this picture in her keeping.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYK3WTUWBdLBYz6LFASA_ZF4bdgHnVX8LCIPR0YvW-KVNcSRdQ-6OYev6yrgDttnsYyd06x121blm2lQeziY3ik-fSDIMQBpiCIanHXxhe944KZw6xa9ycVZ4pTt5mOjWj5DWn47wUqSJ2iVP0iFu3eOpgTATmFDldmP2ybqonXgDkr5LqopG4kJRCeg/s1070/Scan%2010531%20(5).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="752" data-original-width="1070" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYK3WTUWBdLBYz6LFASA_ZF4bdgHnVX8LCIPR0YvW-KVNcSRdQ-6OYev6yrgDttnsYyd06x121blm2lQeziY3ik-fSDIMQBpiCIanHXxhe944KZw6xa9ycVZ4pTt5mOjWj5DWn47wUqSJ2iVP0iFu3eOpgTATmFDldmP2ybqonXgDkr5LqopG4kJRCeg/w640-h450/Scan%2010531%20(5).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Maznoor Abd Hamid celebrating her third Hari Raya at Kampung Chantek, off Dunearn Road.<br />The two stars were made by Abah!</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p> ----------------------------------------------------------</p><p><br /></p><p>Umpteen years later - many, many moons later - about 480 months later and more - came this shooting star into AsH's life.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3qH28p5euk73p0X1Y0CgWJtSvuB8UDOd0RYTHO1PlHSt93rHhEQy3oUq7gOqDX49k5vAfpaTscbcmW1hHXTGGeo2G0uht6iS4wP7jLgYr09mK5F1adHokYl18TGb_NCkrq0bb4wCMHBbxrnEMwag5aB9BmbCuCqh-rxAHo_XbI6e1jsd4pvQDKaKeBg/s1079/TT%201.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1079" height="570" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3qH28p5euk73p0X1Y0CgWJtSvuB8UDOd0RYTHO1PlHSt93rHhEQy3oUq7gOqDX49k5vAfpaTscbcmW1hHXTGGeo2G0uht6iS4wP7jLgYr09mK5F1adHokYl18TGb_NCkrq0bb4wCMHBbxrnEMwag5aB9BmbCuCqh-rxAHo_XbI6e1jsd4pvQDKaKeBg/w640-h570/TT%201.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>The shooting star is a streak of light in the sky orbiting round the moon. At times he can be an asteroid (a small rocky body orbiting the sun) or a meteor (a space rock that enters the earth's atmosphere). </p><p>Whatever he turns into, even when he's howling at the moon - he still draws great pictures for AnaksiHamid.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhljFv9rBOjQYB67G4ORC4T_UBMjDgYciHo02P90PuKBgtAonU3ev54yUUa3PVEg0Xq6xFiTFPsLdNAvlvQBHvlireosP9-mb3DO5KnJ2GIJ9ahvtAtDiaa9wT4Wh1eNZ7QRe1Jo5fvUHC0W7N1ugtkotzmB3R8JOC73RjBiYyieCDGfZKOH0dSWxQH-g/s1545/Scan10013Trim%20and%20Text%201a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1114" data-original-width="1545" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhljFv9rBOjQYB67G4ORC4T_UBMjDgYciHo02P90PuKBgtAonU3ev54yUUa3PVEg0Xq6xFiTFPsLdNAvlvQBHvlireosP9-mb3DO5KnJ2GIJ9ahvtAtDiaa9wT4Wh1eNZ7QRe1Jo5fvUHC0W7N1ugtkotzmB3R8JOC73RjBiYyieCDGfZKOH0dSWxQH-g/w640-h462/Scan10013Trim%20and%20Text%201a.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Eccentrics Extraordinaire.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p> ------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p><br /></p><p>Selamat Hari Raya from long ago and far away.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0gMyWBk8rvkGYjPVilpFvVetqD0cK2TCPiX98NmbaexnVvvKre_dVQhcfZZybTwg1e8oEgEo1JE3ug72QIskVPy8bBBFlTgui5wRziaDiOv3U4ke8q1DXblt5rXKzN7DdJKtnAUqEk-m6l6VvqLHcew1Kjbfe5WQY2DfNTX8ZsQyHk9ubaS5kVu8Sw/s1368/Scan10038.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1010" data-original-width="1368" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0gMyWBk8rvkGYjPVilpFvVetqD0cK2TCPiX98NmbaexnVvvKre_dVQhcfZZybTwg1e8oEgEo1JE3ug72QIskVPy8bBBFlTgui5wRziaDiOv3U4ke8q1DXblt5rXKzN7DdJKtnAUqEk-m6l6VvqLHcew1Kjbfe5WQY2DfNTX8ZsQyHk9ubaS5kVu8Sw/w640-h472/Scan10038.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>========================================================================= </p><p>PS : Just a little reminder, just so that <b>"pisang tidak berbuah dua kali" </b> or <b>"Once bitten, twice shy"</b>.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHtMmlWYy-6b6tgNmnlbbeMg8feqvpuHYiFZK3HgsXcrZTQSzUpHJi5m7qj5hWRXkYMAGBHN2IXJecIsVuFLJbp3TuO_kkAmNHzBKJZi6oqXG99YXVWtUEDgqTkVI98otztSMDJ-kE40BO2xSnkLC7UVzUVUexJlQU4XzAo5xZ1Dcu6Vo-gdrLL9nEQ/s739/Copyright%20Introd.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="235" data-original-width="739" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHtMmlWYy-6b6tgNmnlbbeMg8feqvpuHYiFZK3HgsXcrZTQSzUpHJi5m7qj5hWRXkYMAGBHN2IXJecIsVuFLJbp3TuO_kkAmNHzBKJZi6oqXG99YXVWtUEDgqTkVI98otztSMDJ-kE40BO2xSnkLC7UVzUVUexJlQU4XzAo5xZ1Dcu6Vo-gdrLL9nEQ/w640-h204/Copyright%20Introd.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-34663146528294252362022-04-17T07:20:00.001+01:002022-04-17T07:35:14.968+01:00Belacan, Politicians and 'Otak Udang'<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"> </p></blockquote><p><br /></p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUqgiJk6Er4zfmUjTpFijm0nomwBfIRt4NbmVzBbSuXC0hNiKSDqu-nytf-iwloqbMKc_MNcX3m8urDqZgR5b8ypz_ZJU8YXf7AuyumClygkIn8-HOTH-hhEFTlH2QisQaCVx97Qe3tmyWl8DHjJF-esike_NLdsfDfHkixhRFr3Up_SLgvbElqKqzxQ/s1107/A.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="1107" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUqgiJk6Er4zfmUjTpFijm0nomwBfIRt4NbmVzBbSuXC0hNiKSDqu-nytf-iwloqbMKc_MNcX3m8urDqZgR5b8ypz_ZJU8YXf7AuyumClygkIn8-HOTH-hhEFTlH2QisQaCVx97Qe3tmyWl8DHjJF-esike_NLdsfDfHkixhRFr3Up_SLgvbElqKqzxQ/w640-h368/A.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>I was quite upset when I read the above headline yesterday. It's not fair and it's tantamount to being racist. In the first place, using <i>otak belacan </i> to denigrate the brain of PAP's P Ramasamy is not applicable. After all, he is a Malaysian Indian and certainly belacan is not his staple food seasoning. It certainly can be applied to a Malay like the author of this article, unless he is of the elite Jawi Peranakan extraction, but now registered as Malay.</p><p>Secondly it is an insult to a staple Malay condiment like belacan.</p><p>In Indonesia the equivalent is <b>trasi </b>, mentioned in the ancient Sundanese scriptures.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs1YzE5-TTj7PCk_xNSzCnJhPBOYfDw0eEt4UR1ECFJKq5xbunHxYWwqhRePva82vyyW09-AmaSfQJmj5-Ku-9uCcKv_2zAO_NPKck7atzhxl12b0XLZpjbUZ8i-dxeiRAcQK_-8uq1PwwfIxfVnmB05NVd-1WD_NpWmo9e_mOXK4CiLhWdEIfXCzPKw/s1362/C.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="184" data-original-width="1362" height="86" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs1YzE5-TTj7PCk_xNSzCnJhPBOYfDw0eEt4UR1ECFJKq5xbunHxYWwqhRePva82vyyW09-AmaSfQJmj5-Ku-9uCcKv_2zAO_NPKck7atzhxl12b0XLZpjbUZ8i-dxeiRAcQK_-8uq1PwwfIxfVnmB05NVd-1WD_NpWmo9e_mOXK4CiLhWdEIfXCzPKw/w640-h86/C.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p> So as not to confuse the origin of trasi/belacan :</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ObLcVDnVOd_w-KQR2e8bciTlMhRZSV67Vu89mienYaU1XlQ_Hv4ObZdczVjwSIeotGlfEH8oOqfWo6SzleSHrKN_0dyLdsZXdn8Ninb4nmKhOm7Ss5N9xBFu4hh0ngOlaANOb3CfpLVlb1aN_TZc8scEpF3RtjSb4cOj-4CqGz3PrpJTO_uO8QoTdg/s1256/D.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="95" data-original-width="1256" height="48" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ObLcVDnVOd_w-KQR2e8bciTlMhRZSV67Vu89mienYaU1XlQ_Hv4ObZdczVjwSIeotGlfEH8oOqfWo6SzleSHrKN_0dyLdsZXdn8Ninb4nmKhOm7Ss5N9xBFu4hh0ngOlaANOb3CfpLVlb1aN_TZc8scEpF3RtjSb4cOj-4CqGz3PrpJTO_uO8QoTdg/w640-h48/D.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Zheng He (or Cheng Ho) (1371 - 1433), diplomat-admiral from the Ming Dynasty even brought back this condiment to his homeland! Although today, most of the producers and distributors of belacan in Malaysia are Chinese and the popularity of Chinese Peranakan Cuisine has elevated the status and glamour surrounding the humble belacan. Growing up in the 50s, 60s and 70s, I recall how people turn up their noses (in more ways than one) at the taste, odour and purchase of belacan. </p><p>In the early books on Malay/Indonesian/Southeast Asian cooking, there seemed to be a bit of 'shyness' in using the word belacan, instead it was described as <b>shrimp paste.</b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5iV6k9zBLwBlD9MRGM1DVjOdClVtwPUurKNq5bNbwrEkjaCpjH96vf-x93E1ELxfOHqFydc-s9ViqfccE8EzVgGXIfmdgUNZFpvDuQgx1e8V6B05bP9ipn_DN8dze2tehM8Xjf7BmDhnEfhykXlTAvYrTrr3dtpobgvspXgl0r3xzzkL9gcMohO6PQ/s1357/E.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="184" data-original-width="1357" height="86" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5iV6k9zBLwBlD9MRGM1DVjOdClVtwPUurKNq5bNbwrEkjaCpjH96vf-x93E1ELxfOHqFydc-s9ViqfccE8EzVgGXIfmdgUNZFpvDuQgx1e8V6B05bP9ipn_DN8dze2tehM8Xjf7BmDhnEfhykXlTAvYrTrr3dtpobgvspXgl0r3xzzkL9gcMohO6PQ/w640-h86/E.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>As for the <i>udang geragau, </i>(Singapore Malays called it <i>geragur), </i>my Emak loved to make fritters, a mixture of the shrimps, flour, egg, onions and chillies. It was not only tasty, but it was cheap and <i>muai</i>, which means just a little bit or expenditure goes a long way.</p><p>Nowadays you can't buy <i>geragur</i> for love or money. But this Melayu belacan (Maznoor Hamid that is) stores a good stock of belacan in her larder to titillate the appetite of both herself and her Anglo-Scottish spouse who cannot get enough of sambal blacan and sambal pedas petai/ikan bilis. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7XxmGt_Jx2zgUnLrc4WujEmluC8INFmlASewGrhfOvc9UZX_6iOhHNCTgTx30T-U6d_uwgmPyg6ryFzj5fAdafs0RoPjUbML5xIJ3IJFlW1S5uuWUq9wYD-nzzNBPULM8mUbqyAU_LyDFkSnVgs9pCkv15wKIfvjMMyonlFgTqN7180SHCrhcN_ahw/s1795/E%201.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1247" data-original-width="1795" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7XxmGt_Jx2zgUnLrc4WujEmluC8INFmlASewGrhfOvc9UZX_6iOhHNCTgTx30T-U6d_uwgmPyg6ryFzj5fAdafs0RoPjUbML5xIJ3IJFlW1S5uuWUq9wYD-nzzNBPULM8mUbqyAU_LyDFkSnVgs9pCkv15wKIfvjMMyonlFgTqN7180SHCrhcN_ahw/w400-h278/E%201.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Ash's stock of belacan</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>It all started with my Emak's feeding of her skinny Mat Salleh son-in-law because she thinks her daughter is not cooking enough for him, like a typical loving and dutiful wife should.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjRnZKsc13Sr73mo8TGoHjwnYX1dTA3o9TCAnniJeE7689pfss8zstU4JFzHb7iKioIewNJ0jh9SafhExB2au680t9RZ70nbnfJR--YwnBrGDOk-mroTeBY1UX2s9-6-aPz17JLugqnn38alQCBUKtgBHeei3hBcuKGiO_onDTxzImg6DgeONYQZ2ISA/s404/51.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="333" data-original-width="404" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjRnZKsc13Sr73mo8TGoHjwnYX1dTA3o9TCAnniJeE7689pfss8zstU4JFzHb7iKioIewNJ0jh9SafhExB2au680t9RZ70nbnfJR--YwnBrGDOk-mroTeBY1UX2s9-6-aPz17JLugqnn38alQCBUKtgBHeei3hBcuKGiO_onDTxzImg6DgeONYQZ2ISA/w640-h528/51.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The source of the addiction to chillie and belacan - my mother!</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>That is my paean to belacan, a traditional ingredient for traditional Malay cooking and should never ever be used to describe the cerebral failings of anyone, especially politicians - whatever shade of ethnicity - in Malaysia. There are many other words to choose from, words like dull, doltish, dim, idiotic, ignorant, asinine etc etc.<div><br /></div><div>Whenever as children, we acted and said something stupid to Emak, she would just exclaim "Bodoh! Kepala Otak Udang!" (Stupid. Prawn-head brains!). That is because the prawn's excreta is in the head. That is the only asinine connection to belacan which is made from fermented prawns . Still the Malays do have a refined alternative to the obscene use of the word "shit-head"!!!!! </div><div><br /></div><div>Here is the author of that article in Malaysia Today.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xVqDjSqTUouNgTa4XmNbcG9B1eVIhr64tw-eGLkIY5IWIMNo92jp3WcQmhsWJCzA1spgtyEQBoUouzXZzqoYF0BYDsm0cXYG6ZYcCB5SPDsbFJlBIIszJWJTrG6_AgnEDy1X2-kMxm1vrquJ3ClO1nC7IpRhzeW4DzNExiVSSLFCIUbSUcnFEyLu5Q/s949/B.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="202" data-original-width="949" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xVqDjSqTUouNgTa4XmNbcG9B1eVIhr64tw-eGLkIY5IWIMNo92jp3WcQmhsWJCzA1spgtyEQBoUouzXZzqoYF0BYDsm0cXYG6ZYcCB5SPDsbFJlBIIszJWJTrG6_AgnEDy1X2-kMxm1vrquJ3ClO1nC7IpRhzeW4DzNExiVSSLFCIUbSUcnFEyLu5Q/w640-h136/B.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><p>What is PEJUANG?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFPbvGXo7ptiDhmjBFXq4u8YMF3z7UcPiQvv17uYLOz8P070Qhc4MU53Z94icnDFqNUV4MzFgtc6W5N-nM4Eiw0gPr9ccoT-gnD_LsYNS268tOmYn_ZQirymOlt7i0MoZn83bwmcnCOgLOWFDuxJtRV58-DfXIZGPyljxHxxWXTndjysYQGDsOxYqlw/s1310/Pejuang%202.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="197" data-original-width="1310" height="96" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFPbvGXo7ptiDhmjBFXq4u8YMF3z7UcPiQvv17uYLOz8P070Qhc4MU53Z94icnDFqNUV4MzFgtc6W5N-nM4Eiw0gPr9ccoT-gnD_LsYNS268tOmYn_ZQirymOlt7i0MoZn83bwmcnCOgLOWFDuxJtRV58-DfXIZGPyljxHxxWXTndjysYQGDsOxYqlw/w640-h96/Pejuang%202.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p> <span style="font-size: medium;"><b>May Allah keep our Tanah Air in excellent physical and spiritual health this Ramadan.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Wz4uHX6I_EA" width="320" youtube-src-id="Wz4uHX6I_EA"></iframe></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><b><br /></b></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p></div>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-17645528865623497602022-03-10T06:01:00.000+00:002022-03-10T06:01:25.304+00:00NST Leader : My favourite cuppa Teh Tarik<p> I have more or less given up reading The Guardian and The Independent on the internet. Instead I now turn ( to the spouse's consternation!) to the Daily Mail where I can find snippets of common-sense material from writers like Peter Hitchens, Martin Robinson and Sarah Vine. Now and then I click the Leicester Mercury just to catch up on what's going on in the other half of our neck-of-the-woods.</p><p> It's the same old stuff mostly. During the winter of 2021/2022, news about Boris Johnson's Partygate and the political and hypocritical shenanigans of the ruling Conservative Party and the Labour Opposition recalled the odour of the political cesspit that had existed in Malaysia since 2018, and even before. </p><p>I abandoned Malaysian newspapers like The Star and the Malay Mail years ago. Their coy and self-righteous agenda stuck in the craw. Now, sometimes, I look up Bebas News, Malaysia Now, and the New Straits Times. And I have cause to be grateful for doing so.</p><p>Recently, I discovered the NST Leader page. It perked up my interest and since then, more and more often I turned to this page for a dose of articulate, thoughtful and intelligent piece of writing - a rarity in the papers and portals of both local and overseas media.</p><p>But the piece today in the <b>NST Leader : Nato</b> was a real breath of fresh air, coming in the wake of the wall-to-wall images of the victims and gory destruction of Ukraine's infrastructure. In the past few days, the handwringing and heartache of the war in Ukraine has spread all over the globe, accompanied by heart-wrenching scenes of bravery and donations from the rich and the poor - from little girls (usually blonde and blue-eyed) to super-rich celebrities like Posh and Becks! Well ......</p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>IT ALL SMACKS OF HYPOCRISY!</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>WHO CRIED FOR THESE DARK-EYED, DARK-SKINNED AND DARK-HAIRED VICTIMS?</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJPh8cF_vUiHxKyDIF1JBxBK6GBqq3ci8-TD2EIjNoyvUBR8vmtl3Lg6HBYhWDQgC4mrxCyBsbhMiplOlyNOpfCRK3qa07NTbAYS8ereAZ3-igpCTh2F3COdJAsibrxBwnLXIRxnXF8flaAhMe2noUK4jkOaw1Rwu9feq3EFNxiytO8e_cpi_I80XP3w=s1088" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="737" data-original-width="1088" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJPh8cF_vUiHxKyDIF1JBxBK6GBqq3ci8-TD2EIjNoyvUBR8vmtl3Lg6HBYhWDQgC4mrxCyBsbhMiplOlyNOpfCRK3qa07NTbAYS8ereAZ3-igpCTh2F3COdJAsibrxBwnLXIRxnXF8flaAhMe2noUK4jkOaw1Rwu9feq3EFNxiytO8e_cpi_I80XP3w=w640-h434" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>"Any death diminishes me."</b></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><b><br /></b></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbdJ9jJ7obObTGao2Gpizn-6DIV2oWiPKXRFSR3zAHa0MQwFGp_5QHiFHdpjBChBP9l_hlxJE_j81dOf2KBHnXNGKv3Cy7dx2CAGWcx7SjhYmKxKjiVZOTI4UDTlqD7-Yxuwt2w17RRbWDcc2cGrbXqwa8nP_QNwzuFkT2-SbimznjldUBXXRG_F_RCQ=s1079" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="497" data-original-width="1079" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbdJ9jJ7obObTGao2Gpizn-6DIV2oWiPKXRFSR3zAHa0MQwFGp_5QHiFHdpjBChBP9l_hlxJE_j81dOf2KBHnXNGKv3Cy7dx2CAGWcx7SjhYmKxKjiVZOTI4UDTlqD7-Yxuwt2w17RRbWDcc2cGrbXqwa8nP_QNwzuFkT2-SbimznjldUBXXRG_F_RCQ=w640-h294" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgM6xU1bbN6-crsQKiaF7AgfUY2Ne0ssWuvTWcd7RfPYY36d-5cvgSZ_pa8NTx8ijqyM_O0A-J6bdjLhK_PPWFCgMecJdQvFqJJNXRrlUwQIxMjgltorObP-V8LXBM8yPDSfL53SyR2PpWHX9JsytiMGV_cwGtvQelI25xvpUqEm6vTrJAZi6VzDKwwjQ=s1095" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="699" data-original-width="1095" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgM6xU1bbN6-crsQKiaF7AgfUY2Ne0ssWuvTWcd7RfPYY36d-5cvgSZ_pa8NTx8ijqyM_O0A-J6bdjLhK_PPWFCgMecJdQvFqJJNXRrlUwQIxMjgltorObP-V8LXBM8yPDSfL53SyR2PpWHX9JsytiMGV_cwGtvQelI25xvpUqEm6vTrJAZi6VzDKwwjQ=w640-h408" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>What a shame. She has the wrong hair and skin colour, and is too old.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJ_RMiZGUyzF-tEOfZeivFM3w18Oz_lwIjK9eaji95q-u4XnSxuLtXYfhj7Dpc8i1WYxeR6owx5U0s19nW3istquDeBb9auG9jeOeZI1wOPtCzUmAiIXcdls4GdvfSBvKf8HHIYNFshAmQVUtDWxNQN9X_GOd5YmzGBZVHiOuZS3NAmxGAj6nsXPjy7A=s1088" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="919" data-original-width="1088" height="540" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJ_RMiZGUyzF-tEOfZeivFM3w18Oz_lwIjK9eaji95q-u4XnSxuLtXYfhj7Dpc8i1WYxeR6owx5U0s19nW3istquDeBb9auG9jeOeZI1wOPtCzUmAiIXcdls4GdvfSBvKf8HHIYNFshAmQVUtDWxNQN9X_GOd5YmzGBZVHiOuZS3NAmxGAj6nsXPjy7A=w640-h540" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Right age. But not doe-eyed blondes. Not heart-wrenching enough.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwFWQwfLJGWU0ASBcRznp1eJwklPXoqC7XsZHu7RnU1EpbX0y8kj4npJmfF3P--K6hk_RK5u87VOEmit7t80-U_9jqd1NHEXlCKWYLLfp8kb61nCfLCBgDqL4ihrxOqozkfh3wmoqopFwjIHsbLnss4EKU6LXHFKvoMeOGPZFbRRxJFpbkxhFYL8ec4w=s906" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="490" data-original-width="906" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwFWQwfLJGWU0ASBcRznp1eJwklPXoqC7XsZHu7RnU1EpbX0y8kj4npJmfF3P--K6hk_RK5u87VOEmit7t80-U_9jqd1NHEXlCKWYLLfp8kb61nCfLCBgDqL4ihrxOqozkfh3wmoqopFwjIHsbLnss4EKU6LXHFKvoMeOGPZFbRRxJFpbkxhFYL8ec4w=w640-h346" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>No! A bunch of towelheads will not attract any funding and sympathy from the great and good in the Judaeo-Christian world.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>What about this? No pictures to deter the great and good. Just a piece of graphics to highlight the real victims of the invasion of Afghanistan.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg-qoNO2rQLlYhVHf_ENXvYs_btHSC7KlwlpVQomV3AnhltDStNPifCOxjNsD1eXRCG8sgDvHLoaQAVvtEWKWDdA-OiktzMBLs91kyZpj-FASbaD2tG3T1spy_YUqlx9cK1KmwmqjvFzUgH7sL0rCVP97D6z7_-6E1ck3nUaquPUZqnUpwomsRJWUu7jg=s753" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="706" data-original-width="753" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg-qoNO2rQLlYhVHf_ENXvYs_btHSC7KlwlpVQomV3AnhltDStNPifCOxjNsD1eXRCG8sgDvHLoaQAVvtEWKWDdA-OiktzMBLs91kyZpj-FASbaD2tG3T1spy_YUqlx9cK1KmwmqjvFzUgH7sL0rCVP97D6z7_-6E1ck3nUaquPUZqnUpwomsRJWUu7jg=w640-h600" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Okay, I get your message. Can I persuade you with this image instead - made by a Western NGO?</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhMJSzEWZ4V66i2E5YCrEdVUEmu6vJyHnAOtBTca8CjG497zYQvczAHzPxm56A1wSXe8taTy2AzM4D_jBnV9MuKXqzNzxX0SW6IpHaEXPNBYx96PK09jrECRbzXn1XNyMYCEmJjLU4U0LcQz34wYoi1fAlaktA9DEAeGRiaUgfgFAdeF6bglL6qCs3N3Q=s864" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="709" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhMJSzEWZ4V66i2E5YCrEdVUEmu6vJyHnAOtBTca8CjG497zYQvczAHzPxm56A1wSXe8taTy2AzM4D_jBnV9MuKXqzNzxX0SW6IpHaEXPNBYx96PK09jrECRbzXn1XNyMYCEmJjLU4U0LcQz34wYoi1fAlaktA9DEAeGRiaUgfgFAdeF6bglL6qCs3N3Q=w526-h640" width="526" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><i>"Sorry, mate. The names are too foreign."</i></div><div><br /></div><div>There are other victims too - who have been breathing, living and dying from invasions since 1948 to the present. </div><div><br /></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>"Now, don't press your luck too far."</i></div><br /><div><b><span style="font-size: large;">Sorry Sir, sorry Boss, sorry Guv.</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div><div>Top up this section of my posting with :</div><div><br /></div><div>1. Binoy Kampmark : Read <a href="https://www.scoop.co.nz/stories/HL2203/S00009/russias-invasion-of-ukraine-outing-the-iraq-war-white-washers.htm">https://www.scoop.co.nz/stories/HL2203/S00009/russias-invasion-of-ukraine-outing-the-iraq-war-white-washers.htm</a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3J_jGzAiEdwb6dYBZpG5KZIsFVdpjqw1FLTyCTz_6lvMUgcJ6xrjJ6-udQNVD9peH8de0oSHUUYCuDwQuceiFXIkvxg02RQeH--JTg41x2dN-4g0SrBWF2Qrb2Z8Yo4TOt3deY0OaATrULzQGTv0VnFJcJdkb9ziZg2wtAZRXoux1S-qFps5RLa4fhg=s1145" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="902" data-original-width="1145" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3J_jGzAiEdwb6dYBZpG5KZIsFVdpjqw1FLTyCTz_6lvMUgcJ6xrjJ6-udQNVD9peH8de0oSHUUYCuDwQuceiFXIkvxg02RQeH--JTg41x2dN-4g0SrBWF2Qrb2Z8Yo4TOt3deY0OaATrULzQGTv0VnFJcJdkb9ziZg2wtAZRXoux1S-qFps5RLa4fhg=w400-h315" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span>2. Vijay Prashad : Read <a href="https://theleaflet.in/ukraine-conflict-soaked-contradictions-new-patterns-war-and-media/">https://theleaflet.in/ukraine-conflict-soaked-contradictions-new-patterns-war-and-media/</a></span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJcMQx0GofzH6pb4MOf6m8hz7ztEBolQn_vy-15UxC0D1UCNgquSQDRkyxp_DErB5UmAOeVtJ9l2RMXPyBmFFuJtorjAaT9z8phx9VOA1RGC7fQHCq3dxOxj5mWGagxvrNssznZDJFMTENXD-ibrjmUTHuRGsOPS6wcbf9JoEvVGutka4Ip65JA5TSHg=s1144" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="792" data-original-width="1144" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJcMQx0GofzH6pb4MOf6m8hz7ztEBolQn_vy-15UxC0D1UCNgquSQDRkyxp_DErB5UmAOeVtJ9l2RMXPyBmFFuJtorjAaT9z8phx9VOA1RGC7fQHCq3dxOxj5mWGagxvrNssznZDJFMTENXD-ibrjmUTHuRGsOPS6wcbf9JoEvVGutka4Ip65JA5TSHg=w640-h444" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;">================================================</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>BUT HERE'S THE CLINCHER!</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div>During the Iraq War, the US and the Western "Coalition" smashed an entire country, killed a million people, and destroyed an ancient heritage. Apart from the US, the Coalition forces were mostly UK and other NATO forces. And the third largest contingent in this coalition? You guessed it. It was the Ukrainians. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFRUEU8ceM0xko6akExncGWpebAWdjq92yY8MpsbAjOETiUrVcOtaql69N1lANveImdiUk0JeIw7xihaP6vs1fWIHycdcWzSo7EFBGFZjIPOrD3CjnwKzzAh7Z-89Iu3XWEhxScfsO3MfefpKieJjn-0Go1fd7WXUAdfq7cFrfr8K84e00p4VxHNeAsg=s1032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="987" data-original-width="1032" height="612" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFRUEU8ceM0xko6akExncGWpebAWdjq92yY8MpsbAjOETiUrVcOtaql69N1lANveImdiUk0JeIw7xihaP6vs1fWIHycdcWzSo7EFBGFZjIPOrD3CjnwKzzAh7Z-89Iu3XWEhxScfsO3MfefpKieJjn-0Go1fd7WXUAdfq7cFrfr8K84e00p4VxHNeAsg=w640-h612" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Serving in the war on Iraq - 5,000 troops and 5 years of service.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVzayWUC64JQmpu88aYpuDveVsnlOudBPK2ekR6NNPkpwbCbCdvnmsBlYYrJFEqXf2G0JyeoyomwKSffgGUZPa2SdnidFTJGkgRqrwi_uGy-9U-aVT0eA2N5-P3nCK6UsuNXcTYFVyD06ppsWukYUpuvppfykS3N51-jH2nt8c1Kmty02MqANGsNUpmg=s1229" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="793" data-original-width="1229" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVzayWUC64JQmpu88aYpuDveVsnlOudBPK2ekR6NNPkpwbCbCdvnmsBlYYrJFEqXf2G0JyeoyomwKSffgGUZPa2SdnidFTJGkgRqrwi_uGy-9U-aVT0eA2N5-P3nCK6UsuNXcTYFVyD06ppsWukYUpuvppfykS3N51-jH2nt8c1Kmty02MqANGsNUpmg=w640-h412" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Ukrainian flag of blue and yellow is located just above the town An Nasiriyah. (From Wiki)</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhrcOffTFfjg5UN9biCCop_9usvbWs9BlcWdaE3JNJwcAYJl38ZBrHwCwWHT-1FIlYA0zLaCF_URKaJWCeHQckh2KlqeQcjTEhnZT7sQw0q3kQMcQKZgIPwUgPDx-rpl7BGukJFe23MTVtcK50zRS2MVpHcG1vrua0X3LcH9Jl0zyko6xDplmh9pQJgNg=s1657" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="906" data-original-width="1657" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhrcOffTFfjg5UN9biCCop_9usvbWs9BlcWdaE3JNJwcAYJl38ZBrHwCwWHT-1FIlYA0zLaCF_URKaJWCeHQckh2KlqeQcjTEhnZT7sQw0q3kQMcQKZgIPwUgPDx-rpl7BGukJFe23MTVtcK50zRS2MVpHcG1vrua0X3LcH9Jl0zyko6xDplmh9pQJgNg=w640-h350" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Ukraine contributed 1650 troops. Look for 3 Southeast Asian participating countries. (From Wiki)</b></td></tr></tbody></table><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;">================================================</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><u><span style="font-size: x-large;">Conclusion</span></u></b></div><div><div><b><u><br /></u></b></div><div><u>Read </u><a href="https://www.nst.com.my/opinion/leaders/2022/03/778173/nst-leader-nato">https://www.nst.com.my/opinion/leaders/2022/03/778173/nst-leader-nato</a></div><div><br /></div><div>What the NST Leader has done is to draw out the context of the War in Ukraine. That context is located in the actions and policies of Nato. Nato is not a defensive alliance. Nato smashed the Arab nations in the Middle East. And now Nato is and has been manipulating the politics of the former communist states of Eastern Europe, along Russia's borders. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEibgiObak9YKsSly4hp5G0sxwkVNBAK6vkl0yXL9THpyTOzX8i_SaAfYdtpa-ARl-smEEm_UZ6cZ9yXNPHjVLmnnLqek9TgVpq9WhsSmpAJdR6joEKr4XBK711xZylDdEEZrW92ObD1qEr8JHNWRFBAxsrc5xqHXBsZDc7geUjwQWIWY6EChaWfunrHFw=s1030" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="381" data-original-width="1030" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEibgiObak9YKsSly4hp5G0sxwkVNBAK6vkl0yXL9THpyTOzX8i_SaAfYdtpa-ARl-smEEm_UZ6cZ9yXNPHjVLmnnLqek9TgVpq9WhsSmpAJdR6joEKr4XBK711xZylDdEEZrW92ObD1qEr8JHNWRFBAxsrc5xqHXBsZDc7geUjwQWIWY6EChaWfunrHFw=w640-h236" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>NST Leader - " Liberal imperialists dressed as humanitarians must be kept at a safe distance."</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>Remember the visit to Malaysia in 2014 by that much admired (young and attractive) President of the United States of America" and his pontifications about what is wrong with Malaysia (he means Malay-Muslims)?</div><div><br /></div><div>Read : <a href="https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2014/04/pekong-di-dada-dan-kuman-di-seberang.html">https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2014/04/pekong-di-dada-dan-kuman-di-seberang.html</a></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Now that brings us to the National Endowment for Democracy (NED), a creation of the CIA and quite well ensconced in Malaysia. The good President's advice is very much in line with the objectives of this child of the CIA . If Nato represents the "armed missionaries" of western neo-liberalism (read that as neo-imperialism) then the NED is the "ideological guru".</div><div><br /></div><div>In Malaysia ....</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVsv1Mk11H27AenwXHyvyJGYXd834qK9zpxG6j5aU1M81Yv0Vh5hzcQTsz2NZJSLvB8isrsn4Hq7ne7H9TNgDmT7K-7QEC7_jBm-RMY2xCTZYECfkWJdoFS28fAYS2fF8hE8fa19U0qubO3VNjBZWPK2rBxkI-6e4ds4sHqtKEQM-O4PU2zwW5vroWrA=s1222" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="861" data-original-width="1222" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVsv1Mk11H27AenwXHyvyJGYXd834qK9zpxG6j5aU1M81Yv0Vh5hzcQTsz2NZJSLvB8isrsn4Hq7ne7H9TNgDmT7K-7QEC7_jBm-RMY2xCTZYECfkWJdoFS28fAYS2fF8hE8fa19U0qubO3VNjBZWPK2rBxkI-6e4ds4sHqtKEQM-O4PU2zwW5vroWrA=w640-h450" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>"Funding the Opposition".</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>.... and contributing grants ...... </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPW-6tq6ln0bc_D710PCmTDHZuvYm_l3zaGjN-pK7Ejt96CoBwpBXLH-GEsw-fGzIn3vLroswY72rKtCZcDCWAwKCCfbh0kWap7mudAB2sEvTTBsXM7jxliXpVmNzKgI7aQPLZHonAMpTJzqCHweA18LSzgKZd9XBpFk_dGVyVGHBjHlzbU3q8h8EvRg=s1638" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="938" data-original-width="1638" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPW-6tq6ln0bc_D710PCmTDHZuvYm_l3zaGjN-pK7Ejt96CoBwpBXLH-GEsw-fGzIn3vLroswY72rKtCZcDCWAwKCCfbh0kWap7mudAB2sEvTTBsXM7jxliXpVmNzKgI7aQPLZHonAMpTJzqCHweA18LSzgKZd9XBpFk_dGVyVGHBjHlzbU3q8h8EvRg=w640-h366" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>.... to combat corruption ...</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbzUIJHVljKN4PUqBa19KI9SqyoDVaE5dgm5ZgOmUOSD3SGPOE-2Kg1el7I3j9VseF3merRJSfQz_0e57PTAIFxFOwQBwr30bBRpldw5ylvVIm6Naje2KdV0W2AsmvntZX4RTcrOOYboeNLvFNr8x_1NY0mS9hLyz_xGA38wmdqV7ZoKIqpyRXBQ3HSQ=s1605" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="647" data-original-width="1605" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbzUIJHVljKN4PUqBa19KI9SqyoDVaE5dgm5ZgOmUOSD3SGPOE-2Kg1el7I3j9VseF3merRJSfQz_0e57PTAIFxFOwQBwr30bBRpldw5ylvVIm6Naje2KdV0W2AsmvntZX4RTcrOOYboeNLvFNr8x_1NY0mS9hLyz_xGA38wmdqV7ZoKIqpyRXBQ3HSQ=w640-h258" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>..... to empower youth and political parties to spread freedom, human rights and democracy - a most neo-evangelistic mission.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>As for their project in Ukraine.....</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJPW84z7j34lWX6QehN4KFaZaSxGV8nl_31DRCeBoQrMC1qx8a6uKeJK1uvJflWrzcJaR-R9my6V9LmN8kC18iSii0lh8kdUdydakE2ffuEIW8PV5pO7WzoIFHE0RmLuEwHOjJhevTx-07MrHaSPv6foXnVcMFN1CEEQWsxzQBW_YgNMQQDTbzbCh9yA=s1040" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="957" data-original-width="1040" height="588" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJPW84z7j34lWX6QehN4KFaZaSxGV8nl_31DRCeBoQrMC1qx8a6uKeJK1uvJflWrzcJaR-R9my6V9LmN8kC18iSii0lh8kdUdydakE2ffuEIW8PV5pO7WzoIFHE0RmLuEwHOjJhevTx-07MrHaSPv6foXnVcMFN1CEEQWsxzQBW_YgNMQQDTbzbCh9yA=w640-h588" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiis42-wEemhao7WJD0IO6vWIiMGQRkTs88XdeT9Z2P23sIluhyyy1QGoDzoKvdV3P5wuGVp8GYza7OlS8-WTUUA3gHhPW8Bbkcf7ilUTPBteuZFqwuT8Lq_MXX0Oe0YseCiV0GisjaIvexEsTpWTHKG-fYP_lQZA2aiWE_vkKsKs7sfdaw3P1evFWE7w=s1046" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="995" data-original-width="1046" height="608" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiis42-wEemhao7WJD0IO6vWIiMGQRkTs88XdeT9Z2P23sIluhyyy1QGoDzoKvdV3P5wuGVp8GYza7OlS8-WTUUA3gHhPW8Bbkcf7ilUTPBteuZFqwuT8Lq_MXX0Oe0YseCiV0GisjaIvexEsTpWTHKG-fYP_lQZA2aiWE_vkKsKs7sfdaw3P1evFWE7w=w640-h608" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>'Nuff said. For more revelations and connections, read Jeremy Kuzmarov's <a href="https://covertactionmagazine.com/2022/03/07/national-endowment-for-democracy-deletes-records-of-funding-projects-in-ukraine/">https://covertactionmagazine.com/2022/03/07/national-endowment-for-democracy-deletes-records-of-funding-projects-in-ukraine/</a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b style="font-size: x-large;">But beyond Nato and the NED - we see the outing of the inherent bias and racism in the Western press and media - just like their prejudice and propaganda against Islam and the Middle East during western incursions into Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya, Yemen and of course in 😭.</b> </div><div><br /></div><div>Read Scott Ritter's account of how "fact based arguments ...... the case for war against Iraq were effectively silenced." <a href="https://consortiumnews.com/2022/03/07/pity-the-nation/">https://consortiumnews.com/2022/03/07/pity-the-nation/</a></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_ZD2L_wb5Gk2PiB060EDL9R0l0tCJ8DEj0bP-VlpeIiZeuG-6YXqZAdwe6x5sN1hlNTahQxBW6jcvSbDWfRu6kIXcl2BxMAOXcPGeaJeE_dA6a16t1wOiWuLanUTnS866sxrahvX1wYMqiqxgqVPuKF3_l1jnyMGq6CWGjo76ub4OlErU9t4dikx-zw=s1164" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="1164" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_ZD2L_wb5Gk2PiB060EDL9R0l0tCJ8DEj0bP-VlpeIiZeuG-6YXqZAdwe6x5sN1hlNTahQxBW6jcvSbDWfRu6kIXcl2BxMAOXcPGeaJeE_dA6a16t1wOiWuLanUTnS866sxrahvX1wYMqiqxgqVPuKF3_l1jnyMGq6CWGjo76ub4OlErU9t4dikx-zw=w640-h396" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Putinism or Nato?</b></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnkAQv4EHYAu9QAzStGAE8RMr0llZAdbtk7GlxsIhAjYg52z09jWQuz6oDtr5qgwifSd7cZhqhXlXvOm7-bwXZSNrt3_6wrzuSFM7bBpplUAAJJIvWA5DBkE2_h_H-8qO5GuytkeDGN-cEIukFn559_xjBCFDkkjotxani69o5WRwM7_aix0CzVxsv2Q=s1241" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="713" data-original-width="1241" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnkAQv4EHYAu9QAzStGAE8RMr0llZAdbtk7GlxsIhAjYg52z09jWQuz6oDtr5qgwifSd7cZhqhXlXvOm7-bwXZSNrt3_6wrzuSFM7bBpplUAAJJIvWA5DBkE2_h_H-8qO5GuytkeDGN-cEIukFn559_xjBCFDkkjotxani69o5WRwM7_aix0CzVxsv2Q=w640-h368" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Censorship and freedom of information.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div>I shall leave with Vijay Prashad's ( a writer I admire - in the same box as my other favourite writers like Noam Chomsky, John Pilger and Edward Said ) view of the much-vaunted freedom of the press and the media.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9PvD_OUga41AlMkUe6_JTXohRSue51bs8oezA_wkIdLKzDkMQ01EClIXpOQjUxLISbqfpr9O04IisF71HY_aSIMizvvQYNLKZi1YpUMNezDcYZH_EKyZVsQlRxFW0TblRo2aiunGMg03_qXfrJfHP1KBbPkTpnZ1qe6HTXT31sLzgWSgdx_hDPePZpg=s1164" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="739" data-original-width="1164" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9PvD_OUga41AlMkUe6_JTXohRSue51bs8oezA_wkIdLKzDkMQ01EClIXpOQjUxLISbqfpr9O04IisF71HY_aSIMizvvQYNLKZi1YpUMNezDcYZH_EKyZVsQlRxFW0TblRo2aiunGMg03_qXfrJfHP1KBbPkTpnZ1qe6HTXT31sLzgWSgdx_hDPePZpg=w640-h406" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>In today's media culture, feel free to spout your bigotry and prejudice. When caught, make an apology of sorts and claim you 'misspoke' or were 'misquoted' or "it was taken out of context". Whatever the shape of the apology, the deed (evil) and the damage is done!</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div>Finally, the NST Leader may not be as wide ranging and deep in his/her analysis ( limited of course by the space allocated to an editorial). But in that crisp article, he/she has managed to provoke the readers (including AsH) to view the Ukraine War not as a simplistic battle between good and evil. It has a longer and larger genesis than Putin and Saddam Hussain and Gaddafi put together. </div><div><br /></div><div>It has all the markings and making of Imperialism dressed in new clothes. </div><div><br /></div><div>What lesson can Malaysia learn from this War? Beware of the Greek bearing gifts - of the Trojan Horse within our compound and the<i> " musuh dalam selimut".</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WW21rcHiVU0" width="320" youtube-src-id="WW21rcHiVU0"></iframe></div><br /><i><br /></i></div><div> .</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-53832110153772104302022-02-23T11:03:00.000+00:002022-02-23T11:03:27.438+00:00COLIN and his PENAPHERNALIA.<p> The most memorable part of coming back to KL was not :</p><p>1. The Home Quarantine e-bracelet and the Covid 19 Lateral Flow Test. From 2 days before we departed from Heathrow and the end of the Quarantine we had altogether 7 Covid tests to prove we were negative (of Covid, not attitude) and hence acceptable to be let loose - despite getting all three vaccinations.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg62fYmdTUxDDYBpRorwgcKEVszii-VvL55eLIY48_CvcSXNuKt9mk1HWaxFIXyEONpNqmLY3tc2NaEG51hfmqqVALbbUb_qR27K0CmplpZo09PFJxM5M3_Tsyb6J9QDuo8ddqRDhiLjn2ZJ6g5bVzbn4pDpkyjN2J4_Ynt8TM-nhJFraaP220yTOY20w=s3540" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2251" data-original-width="3540" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg62fYmdTUxDDYBpRorwgcKEVszii-VvL55eLIY48_CvcSXNuKt9mk1HWaxFIXyEONpNqmLY3tc2NaEG51hfmqqVALbbUb_qR27K0CmplpZo09PFJxM5M3_Tsyb6J9QDuo8ddqRDhiLjn2ZJ6g5bVzbn4pDpkyjN2J4_Ynt8TM-nhJFraaP220yTOY20w=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our e-bracelet and negative tests.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>2. The surprises awaiting when we got home.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgepx4Su52Cffdpn5X8Nug4_Q1xWHpyXSp-4D_mbLKEQ9ttW2VRGsSKSTo4ts9Y2Xd75POmptC6ur6T9Jbrb4woL6ycaa5aIEObL1CgFCI5pFFPG1Yj3u9mhMXH95TlNGayOWgg7zrxDyr1-bqylz18zfr7lfhnvjClJamgryL6uDIL8X2hM2DaD9tXaw=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1600" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgepx4Su52Cffdpn5X8Nug4_Q1xWHpyXSp-4D_mbLKEQ9ttW2VRGsSKSTo4ts9Y2Xd75POmptC6ur6T9Jbrb4woL6ycaa5aIEObL1CgFCI5pFFPG1Yj3u9mhMXH95TlNGayOWgg7zrxDyr1-bqylz18zfr7lfhnvjClJamgryL6uDIL8X2hM2DaD9tXaw=w400-h193" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fermented pasta in the kitchen cupboard (left) and exploding tiles in the study (right).</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>3. Leaking roof in the bedroom which saturated the base of boxes of gramophone records and books, suitcases of my precious batik collection and embroidery, Iain's drawings and black and white photographs from the 1960s This we knew a few days before we left when our lovely neighbour Zarina and son Haiqal went upstairs to supervise the cleaners.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj-68aUlmsOCKBjc7EfC6yXQTKvNpVjV6fQ1xONo3ANM0l5yBjLJK5YQdjTaakd5u6jJHjQ9fuWxX1G5d8jFRmhj1R6E_9gAjZmdPirz2RxU3lfHzqg488A8xPHFReR2Y49GwacZh5WHYlLvNnTKT7NrfurYsk3Z-mbymu5COYTjQ1BvrXX3IQXRXbqDg=s1536" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1536" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj-68aUlmsOCKBjc7EfC6yXQTKvNpVjV6fQ1xONo3ANM0l5yBjLJK5YQdjTaakd5u6jJHjQ9fuWxX1G5d8jFRmhj1R6E_9gAjZmdPirz2RxU3lfHzqg488A8xPHFReR2Y49GwacZh5WHYlLvNnTKT7NrfurYsk3Z-mbymu5COYTjQ1BvrXX3IQXRXbqDg=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sodden, sodding floor after 2 weeks of drying and airing (left) and dear Haiqal laying out the gramophone records made up mostly of Malay songs from the 1950s and early 1960s (right).</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>4. Operation touch-and-go repair.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEindnQ97tHXchE7bbH6Gk8wUL6bqbm12q1sNfLVN-HCDZFPjx2_g1gX4zsxUtlr7AlXKg2s6xjwldpRDU1SveWR8q2RulBRng2_p4QItgzu84DshmMzZry8gmMgcTuVaTybVEOMXIIwzTGThs__nX6-LzVg74FOqHV7dSRDqjcqtlfRMNN6OFMJ1tlD9Q=s2560" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1920" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEindnQ97tHXchE7bbH6Gk8wUL6bqbm12q1sNfLVN-HCDZFPjx2_g1gX4zsxUtlr7AlXKg2s6xjwldpRDU1SveWR8q2RulBRng2_p4QItgzu84DshmMzZry8gmMgcTuVaTybVEOMXIIwzTGThs__nX6-LzVg74FOqHV7dSRDqjcqtlfRMNN6OFMJ1tlD9Q=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table> 1 - Drying out the record cases.<div> 2 - Record sleeves - after Iain's repair.</div><div> 3 - Some of the salvaged records.</div><div> 4 - Some of the stuff transferred to the dry bedroom including Iain's drawings for </div><div> "Fatimah's Kampung" and the record player.<br /><p><b>Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words (and sodden belongings) can never hurt me.</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p>Leaving Leicester can be heart-rending because we have to leave behind dear old friends. Friends who are kind, generous and gracious; friends like Jack, Jackie and Julia, Jagdish and his wife Poonam, friends in Leicester Animal Rescue Charity Shop and last but not least, Colin.</p><p>2021/2022 had been a "long, hard winter" for us but good old Colin brought out the sun. He is a Jack of all trades (or in modern parlance a "Renaissance Man") but above all he is a master photographer. As a photographer, Colin brings with him the light and the colours of the most generous sun. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HkxEhCg2uOU" width="320" youtube-src-id="HkxEhCg2uOU"></iframe></div><br /><p>But for silly ole Ash, Colin is (and has always been) a dear friend, the world's greatest boyfriend - and one of her two bestest idiots.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhoeLcc5zqud6A_uO6FsgDEF1MqBWxAhVqbo6wK5B1d9SUG_D0zUz5gBxp5RTd8508iFzxNxRmajICTDuNKJggLtGQ7TxBId-oIxiKzHSd-691e8aYdpcSc_vFy2rbNQKLbgoxx9oai_xVS4KJIhM198pT3DApKEh1LZ7cqJlQLDSm9mNoNlZd8LJLWrA=s6443" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6443" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhoeLcc5zqud6A_uO6FsgDEF1MqBWxAhVqbo6wK5B1d9SUG_D0zUz5gBxp5RTd8508iFzxNxRmajICTDuNKJggLtGQ7TxBId-oIxiKzHSd-691e8aYdpcSc_vFy2rbNQKLbgoxx9oai_xVS4KJIhM198pT3DApKEh1LZ7cqJlQLDSm9mNoNlZd8LJLWrA=w140-h400" width="140" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>In fact, Colin has his own mug, strictly reserved for him when he turns up at our house for tea or lunch or dinner!</p><p>To add to his credentials, he is also responsible for causing a domestic fracas in our household. Let me explain.</p><p>This Christmas, Colin gave us a precious gift he made with his own hands. Here is a picture (with copyright notice added):</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhNgaOwC3zFY5X1-eLhNib0buQW6TZw8II2l5cKIjIugCoQvwfi5IgZX8CmMmfi4DhtJ8c3Wycwk2z-KJJPYUqoWBhlxK-WUvAsQTmaMKQUUENbpU2FsFe26GeLdMF3shtAMR_qPaLI7Hvo2A_uZWgBMtrJY3P4YoIYw3YHFC7zO9sKBVIpHtCmuMygMQ=s846" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="372" data-original-width="846" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhNgaOwC3zFY5X1-eLhNib0buQW6TZw8II2l5cKIjIugCoQvwfi5IgZX8CmMmfi4DhtJ8c3Wycwk2z-KJJPYUqoWBhlxK-WUvAsQTmaMKQUUENbpU2FsFe26GeLdMF3shtAMR_qPaLI7Hvo2A_uZWgBMtrJY3P4YoIYw3YHFC7zO9sKBVIpHtCmuMygMQ=w640-h282" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pen 1 : For Iain or Maznoor.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVUemVRyYTtjbFFJC5w-jsHp6fR7chZi0Py4QoFS7QDLmz9WGRNhEQBi9ORngsfeE1hTjULX0omL6ILwEA5xbmOrVGAkQdWVHSaqEktgTmLvxGQ_Q2GwUoYsTgp6V8Jvd1kpwbgMKQySec21KfDSWLGpOMmwv1ltYhMt1IHsXk7NnIx3aDxLN4nQcBdg=s824" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="307" data-original-width="824" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVUemVRyYTtjbFFJC5w-jsHp6fR7chZi0Py4QoFS7QDLmz9WGRNhEQBi9ORngsfeE1hTjULX0omL6ILwEA5xbmOrVGAkQdWVHSaqEktgTmLvxGQ_Q2GwUoYsTgp6V8Jvd1kpwbgMKQySec21KfDSWLGpOMmwv1ltYhMt1IHsXk7NnIx3aDxLN4nQcBdg=w640-h238" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pen 2 : for Maznoor or Iain.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>We can only choose one but we are still fighting over which one. In fact each one of us would love to have both!!</p><p><br /></p><p><b>What is the pedigree of these two ironwood pens?</b></p><p>It started with this piece of ironwood from Quoin Hill, near Tawau in Sabah, given to Iain when we visited the Cocoa Research Centre.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqEqFKvuEnXhCScwRNOEXWpy87HYw17HE0c4PjlNDw1FTCV1eiClD9YHGRRo5OEXbVfPZGUf-i2gDAUhsuRFQW2BG_f26TcBINiLCTY0RUCkDRY2Ks7INjZxmR4zoTk4RCyD0Zc0uyPJ7e8oRvZzjuijqbV0e23jN6g4rFFEq6Q21aCq7zXxt8SwRvyg=s339" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="157" data-original-width="339" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqEqFKvuEnXhCScwRNOEXWpy87HYw17HE0c4PjlNDw1FTCV1eiClD9YHGRRo5OEXbVfPZGUf-i2gDAUhsuRFQW2BG_f26TcBINiLCTY0RUCkDRY2Ks7INjZxmR4zoTk4RCyD0Zc0uyPJ7e8oRvZzjuijqbV0e23jN6g4rFFEq6Q21aCq7zXxt8SwRvyg=w400-h185" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>It was from a gigantic ironwood tree that looked like the one below.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdpAXpJQS4gxmK2TbsWlHUcL6Q0k3rAaRwQoFANuhyVe7DaX63D5HN_LqCI7lfyMgIZljWkzICCMLpXjVQdEa0Trxi37KYMNJhB670IT1OlRtYVt-fvHFWkrVh-_BR-5WoLm0RAa_6_9oGXpRWWyjBg1hgRssKaoJQYl0Q3w0zeFm3CgFbOim-kLWOIA=s3421" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2201" data-original-width="3421" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdpAXpJQS4gxmK2TbsWlHUcL6Q0k3rAaRwQoFANuhyVe7DaX63D5HN_LqCI7lfyMgIZljWkzICCMLpXjVQdEa0Trxi37KYMNJhB670IT1OlRtYVt-fvHFWkrVh-_BR-5WoLm0RAa_6_9oGXpRWWyjBg1hgRssKaoJQYl0Q3w0zeFm3CgFbOim-kLWOIA=w400-h258" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">AsH (not the tree) and the ironwood tree (1983) behind her.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>Iain gave his good mate Colin this piece of ironwood when he learned of Colin's new hobby, making pens from wood. To enliven these times of Covid pandemic, Colin spends hours and hours in his garage, making pens out of specially selected woods. </p><p>Iain is also in love with wood. He has a collection of wood pieces ranging from a bit of plank from Iceland, a piece picked up from a tree felled near P Ramlee's house in Kuala Lumpur, pohutukawa from the volcano of Rangitoto Island, Australian Jarra from an old railway sleeper in NZ, a 30,000 year old length of swampwood from NZ, rosewood from an old rosebush growing in our front garden at Oxford Avenue Leicester, hawthorn from a hedge near a pig farm on the A1 in England, oak from a fence post in Wales, the rewa rewa from his Mum's old hand mirror, all kinds of driftwood from Paekakariki beach (his home village in NZ), swamp myrtle from Norfolk from his late friend Dave, a belian roof tile from Sumatra given to him by an old Malay lady in Muar, olive wood from Bethlehem bought from an antique shop, and his <i>piece de resistance, </i>a 200 million year old fossilized tree trunk from South Africa which was given to his father Keith when he was teaching in South Africa during the late 1940s. </p><p>But back to Colin. I wanted to know from Colin how he constructed these beautiful writing tools. As I was too dense (like the ironwood) to fully understand the process from Colin's verbal description, he gave this illustrated account for his pen-pal idiot.</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><u>THE STORY OF COLIN'S PENS</u></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTYzzH5Nsap1m-XuT5FNz06cehIL5pfTPBuF-etN-xsbm09Us20yDizxLJT97a4oleZa9XX_QNvkSXnm1tdhjEx6o8nqshcfHULkLz0SZVNYnVv1OXaAhz3hvK8B2rXc9cA317oZFgqF1YtY8XaZSlbx5WUwec74xqlughwDJ1E-5cuY8b5hA2lpCDKA=s999" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="786" data-original-width="999" height="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTYzzH5Nsap1m-XuT5FNz06cehIL5pfTPBuF-etN-xsbm09Us20yDizxLJT97a4oleZa9XX_QNvkSXnm1tdhjEx6o8nqshcfHULkLz0SZVNYnVv1OXaAhz3hvK8B2rXc9cA317oZFgqF1YtY8XaZSlbx5WUwec74xqlughwDJ1E-5cuY8b5hA2lpCDKA=w640-h504" width="640" /></a></b></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><u><br /></u></b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKcRyudBzDVTT-Z0LeedgR94BN3e3lwIDIHsdZFqEJnlvXat9hMDtbbCcz9M0SG3m69X-0WAYeGgp9CxTP3wrW_eUcl5LeZVTgVx1kD9SUitgwQOOMX51aMziPrObCT68QBrioANecgvNQqxP_xrH4BR9C5qU7wni6dL49c_tGEGOCeVE4eMLa21rfiA=s912" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="912" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKcRyudBzDVTT-Z0LeedgR94BN3e3lwIDIHsdZFqEJnlvXat9hMDtbbCcz9M0SG3m69X-0WAYeGgp9CxTP3wrW_eUcl5LeZVTgVx1kD9SUitgwQOOMX51aMziPrObCT68QBrioANecgvNQqxP_xrH4BR9C5qU7wni6dL49c_tGEGOCeVE4eMLa21rfiA=w640-h386" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The first step</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg5eQ-yDyvBc-ZfmLEj9mZEFRr7g-jgEkMXdYaYtpmJCXq46_UnhaRBvPrpkCrL9tZgkrsoQg4fbZ3INZs-wDkX5XPFqQ6d10To8EM53HoNOzm0N3Ap9FYowqhjVF1h6GCQJ7SWQHduVeNOgyoBrbP098XPwNEC2jjUmzhrSkZ4GiTvi53_PuSpFtj89Q=s887" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="643" data-original-width="887" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg5eQ-yDyvBc-ZfmLEj9mZEFRr7g-jgEkMXdYaYtpmJCXq46_UnhaRBvPrpkCrL9tZgkrsoQg4fbZ3INZs-wDkX5XPFqQ6d10To8EM53HoNOzm0N3Ap9FYowqhjVF1h6GCQJ7SWQHduVeNOgyoBrbP098XPwNEC2jjUmzhrSkZ4GiTvi53_PuSpFtj89Q=w640-h464" width="640" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEier0IYzgJWU0Ke0fOHGZf4dtMRPNjCdml20pHfHNallEQpchlHFArGO3oW8HQhBT49pHXZvxwkJSpZzqJdW68hUDIOhP0ikTxRlm937xtB1KJ1jyy9gY3WAYRDbK3lrCXt7Tjb6v9C3VaMHB2ko56xvnOqRATQ47Pb6cPvAVzoxBzMw2iAXItpNpDGwg=s870" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="693" data-original-width="870" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEier0IYzgJWU0Ke0fOHGZf4dtMRPNjCdml20pHfHNallEQpchlHFArGO3oW8HQhBT49pHXZvxwkJSpZzqJdW68hUDIOhP0ikTxRlm937xtB1KJ1jyy9gY3WAYRDbK3lrCXt7Tjb6v9C3VaMHB2ko56xvnOqRATQ47Pb6cPvAVzoxBzMw2iAXItpNpDGwg=w640-h510" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZbGfdv0oKWGCrFL8OHx7GzGnXLS6zFrY3yWAt4s21t4vjeNSkzWS4xzUi7FLZGqe99hwUY08A_kqsIP5dbc0saYpPP8T7j9KFarf7msM0rK72aohA0HYUmtDXxDpg6eJCKnGt4kOr5TL4nxSK1lGR8T5VPy0fsoF1GVEhPPvp8CocVwhQcgXsvlV95g=s940" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="940" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZbGfdv0oKWGCrFL8OHx7GzGnXLS6zFrY3yWAt4s21t4vjeNSkzWS4xzUi7FLZGqe99hwUY08A_kqsIP5dbc0saYpPP8T7j9KFarf7msM0rK72aohA0HYUmtDXxDpg6eJCKnGt4kOr5TL4nxSK1lGR8T5VPy0fsoF1GVEhPPvp8CocVwhQcgXsvlV95g=w640-h454" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgEC6pYS2oVclq6i7_bbbJpsE5KgfvT-y1icDcagSW68HT6Oky9-sEx76dZCWcEDwPi23ZpOOs7jKRXykpHav6th7xLMSnUlM3_-7JVDMDKjFu7Rb_fJCQ-nV7Z3SOLqKorYf0IlnOatOhCQdOmM-3y5qO-ghhbfjZudcccbA4NcdqUMhrRCFszDllb2g=s961" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="961" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgEC6pYS2oVclq6i7_bbbJpsE5KgfvT-y1icDcagSW68HT6Oky9-sEx76dZCWcEDwPi23ZpOOs7jKRXykpHav6th7xLMSnUlM3_-7JVDMDKjFu7Rb_fJCQ-nV7Z3SOLqKorYf0IlnOatOhCQdOmM-3y5qO-ghhbfjZudcccbA4NcdqUMhrRCFszDllb2g=w640-h454" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg6JJHlU3xyfqasWq_zMIBxTOlxQo_0WEPGEm2rKO7pnpl3E52Z9XzyXHtLBfc1f09CMxeHz4bHxY8LJC8C4AzusP5VPEUGGjS8sM1sT0uWLAqFMTAwjQbMat3BD1ZiD9TGXXKdtvkYg-gq8017sLJaFokp_7cPFtcxpYKzoagC2-rAm4vClB62mt0QAA=s955" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="678" data-original-width="955" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg6JJHlU3xyfqasWq_zMIBxTOlxQo_0WEPGEm2rKO7pnpl3E52Z9XzyXHtLBfc1f09CMxeHz4bHxY8LJC8C4AzusP5VPEUGGjS8sM1sT0uWLAqFMTAwjQbMat3BD1ZiD9TGXXKdtvkYg-gq8017sLJaFokp_7cPFtcxpYKzoagC2-rAm4vClB62mt0QAA=w640-h454" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtZjdymG-dEg5V6FhbEVugOuMgDOFb9sCRH14Z-DcnEDoFSHkVQS8nciOdXtL1P1ArwYmrCKnSENqOz2I0pIsxRbmXhRhZQe-qbSGM6m90VwaCu8dVuguNZ8AwubsAuUQAtw2c0LyeDnzCYEBfi3q5-uQa_xfHRZoNpPA4Qfh4kaiw9cT7dq3VzRTN1w=s987" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="642" data-original-width="987" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtZjdymG-dEg5V6FhbEVugOuMgDOFb9sCRH14Z-DcnEDoFSHkVQS8nciOdXtL1P1ArwYmrCKnSENqOz2I0pIsxRbmXhRhZQe-qbSGM6m90VwaCu8dVuguNZ8AwubsAuUQAtw2c0LyeDnzCYEBfi3q5-uQa_xfHRZoNpPA4Qfh4kaiw9cT7dq3VzRTN1w=w640-h416" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPYLwlN3F3ze8HstiSkYu7ieUIseFSVBDMMTPtC5BoqGtdoGSfld4YPUR_ZorWTrmhcSZwVTpL-1A1cn4wtGKc6YerU9bRJM8EL6NSz7u0hQYqcMt0L6ezKZ-P2L7hmZt1l7Xo7a3zBrQQo7rFEa_Rft7x3E4RXKGyZHCJQxs1AXmIOH-YtYypHdGn3g=s945" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="945" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPYLwlN3F3ze8HstiSkYu7ieUIseFSVBDMMTPtC5BoqGtdoGSfld4YPUR_ZorWTrmhcSZwVTpL-1A1cn4wtGKc6YerU9bRJM8EL6NSz7u0hQYqcMt0L6ezKZ-P2L7hmZt1l7Xo7a3zBrQQo7rFEa_Rft7x3E4RXKGyZHCJQxs1AXmIOH-YtYypHdGn3g=w640-h410" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg6xoEvpl8xDLRcYv_wYYmDG4cYHcBm9W05Du84zKVsFNsFKBzkDSmbxQTut_-GwyBjn88jo0s1gFTnXRPSOoTTh_fjAUx-rokhHme1REweUlOkBS2pRi9HKhySfUfwwRCxcqpkSsupKLgMS1LOrSLFu3124i0jGfAPFluDN5872Munp1JruKfh0xkyDA=s958" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="958" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg6xoEvpl8xDLRcYv_wYYmDG4cYHcBm9W05Du84zKVsFNsFKBzkDSmbxQTut_-GwyBjn88jo0s1gFTnXRPSOoTTh_fjAUx-rokhHme1REweUlOkBS2pRi9HKhySfUfwwRCxcqpkSsupKLgMS1LOrSLFu3124i0jGfAPFluDN5872Munp1JruKfh0xkyDA=w640-h302" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJPQPWYj4ubQWRtlvwAozMuR329C8qjIV5K8R1GT1YY4QqenkFE7DmUmI32Ga6EmbJNx0JE4v3IoV7eXBViz3IanDl00Dgfrkzo_J4v_IXE-PNsCaxDkzjfJcK1ZeIwOxiBy4AP-nnkoB6SbLsqL6PNcYHhfF2Pi5Q5GOX3NGm8ytByPDUdaHGNcQC2Q=s867" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="867" data-original-width="860" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJPQPWYj4ubQWRtlvwAozMuR329C8qjIV5K8R1GT1YY4QqenkFE7DmUmI32Ga6EmbJNx0JE4v3IoV7eXBViz3IanDl00Dgfrkzo_J4v_IXE-PNsCaxDkzjfJcK1ZeIwOxiBy4AP-nnkoB6SbLsqL6PNcYHhfF2Pi5Q5GOX3NGm8ytByPDUdaHGNcQC2Q=w634-h640" width="634" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Colin, although you have no wish to share your garage space with spiders, at least you are gentle with them. Because of that, you can be assured - the next time we get back to England - of your supply of spicy roast chicken, yellow rice, tomato chutney, bread and butter pudding, lemon layer pudding, onion bhajis, rice noodle soup, roti jala and Malay chicken curry and your top favourite from my kitchen, lemon cheesecake! I shall of course ensure that the spouse keeps you well supplied with mugs and mugs of tea.</p><p>"Ta raa me duck!" Keep safe and well while we're away.</p><p><br /></p><p>Postscript.</p><p><b>More examples of CGB's work.</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjek4kK9p4oYf0lxyTmll0l7SIxwpEGfz_Bb7YpuHecJ8klkstjgTlWE-9ThbxjWKfiHr0oFQLAIXJncddjXipG214grNNa9sqmdm-ERm1O-rouUPg_OfhlzLMbg-lvnWCXR6phRjguzD_yISxzTsxhJ209RtYu3y6DKOUqpGXnE0vAayzX3lqYIROjXQ=s1777" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1777" data-original-width="1589" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjek4kK9p4oYf0lxyTmll0l7SIxwpEGfz_Bb7YpuHecJ8klkstjgTlWE-9ThbxjWKfiHr0oFQLAIXJncddjXipG214grNNa9sqmdm-ERm1O-rouUPg_OfhlzLMbg-lvnWCXR6phRjguzD_yISxzTsxhJ209RtYu3y6DKOUqpGXnE0vAayzX3lqYIROjXQ=w572-h640" width="572" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFuZSLKSQTzK0_DwsON8u4CuJqfaUWWIlRkwwUr2mqHtYAR543GwXlCoW3bIVFvzxvLQXfovDN0b2TKO3GDOUhpWzH0JLa8D8C9hUcE8BZZCJjZ4mBXFILWUU6sKDDY2-iRHMO4mX8LskIY384shvWXB61sPfGqkSnB7ycgbo0bPFcwJQa7STUogLGGA=s2638" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2638" data-original-width="1587" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFuZSLKSQTzK0_DwsON8u4CuJqfaUWWIlRkwwUr2mqHtYAR543GwXlCoW3bIVFvzxvLQXfovDN0b2TKO3GDOUhpWzH0JLa8D8C9hUcE8BZZCJjZ4mBXFILWUU6sKDDY2-iRHMO4mX8LskIY384shvWXB61sPfGqkSnB7ycgbo0bPFcwJQa7STUogLGGA=w386-h640" width="386" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p></div>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-66963399547840571812021-12-16T14:22:00.003+00:002021-12-16T16:00:00.014+00:00A Hard Landing<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/s6i1F0YfjXo" width="320" youtube-src-id="s6i1F0YfjXo"></iframe></div><br /> <p></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span><b style="background-color: white;">"In the gloaming by the fireside, with you I'll be content.</b></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span><b style="background-color: white;">In the glowing by the fireside, every hour will be well spent." </b></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><b style="font-size: x-large;">22 months on</b> ........... Mr and Mrs Flotsam and Jetsam (debris from Covid 19 since January 2020) .........</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjyRD9_iaFuZ0amx-So56smVmtM4fZKajA-7LGhVwga53Rf3nY8aCnF6trm67VftMYCUaIml9LPxt0kxb3PuLG11HLBxta0cAHWPUdByUzYQmF9Wt6FZ7fFYvGRGFFV9fqt2PJ75eeURg2UsmJPWRhBANOACAmnpv5pW1HdP45BmzxbJNgu5tQ9Bnt2fw=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjyRD9_iaFuZ0amx-So56smVmtM4fZKajA-7LGhVwga53Rf3nY8aCnF6trm67VftMYCUaIml9LPxt0kxb3PuLG11HLBxta0cAHWPUdByUzYQmF9Wt6FZ7fFYvGRGFFV9fqt2PJ75eeURg2UsmJPWRhBANOACAmnpv5pW1HdP45BmzxbJNgu5tQ9Bnt2fw=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">10.30 pm 26 November 2021</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>......... departed Kuala Lumpur for the spouse's <i>kampung</i> in Leicester.</p><p><br /></p><p>Our luggage and ourselves arrived safely .......... </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQp4_Kuv8j_8ip2dSExEHLn2gs5am-9b_WbdKEfaeF8OqrTMHzHtzVLif0vAnE1NuX8QR-G_zqe3NLNlDs2lotVP7flGYqm_t2ujsWgljpaWrc0gwGHkvgKAwxIQ1Lh0fM0enjZ0Kan0d97nd29hXjSQN1c6_q5x94j07vLpP8lFKRAe9xF8wtfEQkyQ=s404" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="404" data-original-width="204" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQp4_Kuv8j_8ip2dSExEHLn2gs5am-9b_WbdKEfaeF8OqrTMHzHtzVLif0vAnE1NuX8QR-G_zqe3NLNlDs2lotVP7flGYqm_t2ujsWgljpaWrc0gwGHkvgKAwxIQ1Lh0fM0enjZ0Kan0d97nd29hXjSQN1c6_q5x94j07vLpP8lFKRAe9xF8wtfEQkyQ=w203-h400" width="203" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">In KL (top) and almost 24 hours later in Leicester (bottom)</span></td></tr></tbody></table>.<br /> <p></p><p>........... despite a hairy landing at Heathrow. Kudos to the Captain and crew of MAS flight MH 04 . We were quite "shaken but not stirred" by the landing experience. </p><p>This awaited us when we opened the door to the sitting room.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiuFX4WEgh2cdnreWzlL8epDT07zvEaOjddRZqzzg01nkZErQkWi88ce9_E4zuFgFpqc8NSHH11IEsMAVnj1l2CSb-JAWK6-Itct8yHADHLhErDB95CKlgK9uueego8q_U3BfcVSb_O2yDR35EmTR4P8jRf7BKDhPNACJsAaYYyqWcI50tHoUAsDTv4aA=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiuFX4WEgh2cdnreWzlL8epDT07zvEaOjddRZqzzg01nkZErQkWi88ce9_E4zuFgFpqc8NSHH11IEsMAVnj1l2CSb-JAWK6-Itct8yHADHLhErDB95CKlgK9uueego8q_U3BfcVSb_O2yDR35EmTR4P8jRf7BKDhPNACJsAaYYyqWcI50tHoUAsDTv4aA=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Our mail (and junk mail) after 22 months, though Colin had set aside about 4 times of the above into another box.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><b style="font-size: x-large;">Two weeks on since our arrival</b><span style="font-size: medium;"> .......... </span>we have just about got over the jet lag,</p><p>but ..........</p><p>1. ....... still have not entered the City Centre to deal with various administrative matters because the locals are not keen on wearing masks and maintaining the social distancing rules. Our maskless computer man has blithely refused to be vaccinated. He claims as he had Covid 19 (though I do not think he had got to the stage of being at death's door) in 2020, he had developed a natural immunity like most of his relatives in Bangla Desh.</p><p>2. As luck would have it, Omicron arrived in UK at the same time as our arrival. As the country is super-charged with the spirit of Xmas festivities, people are desperate to get their booster jabs. They were willing (or had) to queue for as long as 5 hours at walk-in centres - in the cold, standing on pavements and by roadsides to make sure they are protected! Our concern is this: will Malaysia allow us to get back home?</p><p>3. However, we had to expend almost all our fortitude and energy in dealing with our Romanian neighbours.</p><p>It was quite sad to to listen to the woes of the Gujarati barber who lived just across the road from us. </p><p>"We voted for Brexit to get them out. Instead the good, hardworking ones left and the rubbish have remained."</p><p>They have been fly tipping in front of his shop (which included a dead cat) many a time. When he complained they dumped paint on the front door of his shop!!!</p><p>And Gohil added, " We have to suffer this - all in the name of Human Rights!!"</p><p>Last week we attended a meeting of the Evington |Road Neighbourhood Association where we heard more gory details of how the neighbourhood had suffered since the immigration of East Europeans since 2007 when the former Communist states of Eastern Europe were incorporated into the EU and when UK was still a member of the Union. This mass migration into UK (about 3 million) suited the agenda of the gaffers and the business community who were looking for cheap labour. Does this ring a familiar note in my part of the world about over 100 years ago?</p><p>It seems that the criminal and anti-social activities of our EC citizens (now fully fledged British) in our neighbourhood is sourced from the "tribal" conflicts of the various nations of Eastern Europe, from Romania, Serbia, Albania and the states of old Czechoslovakia. </p><p>Perhaps we have our own in Malaysia .........</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj-4znbWltvoAVQCPBAjrbqf1_fYHVJkfHvFbgQadx9wXnCifgn4J4RJ9wVsM-uuZ2GgHbG1D_mT4aI24GNmeSRCoqX8x6-3NX1e8jNrTTD2i7mB3ZSJ_uSPT9Sooi01GiNBkjWsSR9rnCyZiWM7mWP-0hhlcSOC6NTR3338A8k7YEDugitOvc2jHas0g=s1137" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="964" data-original-width="1137" height="542" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj-4znbWltvoAVQCPBAjrbqf1_fYHVJkfHvFbgQadx9wXnCifgn4J4RJ9wVsM-uuZ2GgHbG1D_mT4aI24GNmeSRCoqX8x6-3NX1e8jNrTTD2i7mB3ZSJ_uSPT9Sooi01GiNBkjWsSR9rnCyZiWM7mWP-0hhlcSOC6NTR3338A8k7YEDugitOvc2jHas0g=w640-h542" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">July 2021</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />....... but not like this as in Leicester. One of those thugs is our neighbour.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/jywVuP9Ui9g" width="320" youtube-src-id="jywVuP9Ui9g"></iframe></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><div>As for these two geriatrics who were (especially for Iain) looking forward to "going home", to visit our old friends and settling down for a wee while in our "armchair by the fireside", we had to deal with harassment by our neighbours' children as soon as we shut our door behind us. We had to set up a camera at the front window, make a report to the Police and the spouse decided to summarise our plight at the hands of our East European immigrant-neighbours and hand it over to the authorities.</div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQlYcxRUIyF9mH3yxs9Veu8-MW2grk7p7w8C2ZYT8uRZx61fO6cXuIn0CoVEI0pcTQn5RgUtJg3nNqYqvcTphJ_C4mDXOwxoScU_zcu4-EWnD_91UJqkNEnIJOyLMB6mfaayt7QSd1gfh-dpC7nKFu3Mi0BP1oKok5X_eB81RDDo59PDZBZwLGIDlJYQ=s3508" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3508" data-original-width="2480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQlYcxRUIyF9mH3yxs9Veu8-MW2grk7p7w8C2ZYT8uRZx61fO6cXuIn0CoVEI0pcTQn5RgUtJg3nNqYqvcTphJ_C4mDXOwxoScU_zcu4-EWnD_91UJqkNEnIJOyLMB6mfaayt7QSd1gfh-dpC7nKFu3Mi0BP1oKok5X_eB81RDDo59PDZBZwLGIDlJYQ=w452-h640" width="452" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Whither our Human Rights???</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>For a detailed picture of our saga with our "new immigrant" neighbours, read this episode from 2019.</p><p><a href="https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2019/05/a-lefty-liberals-lament.html">https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2019/05/a-lefty-liberals-lament.html</a></p><p><br /></p><p>And when our Muslim computer man - an immigrant from Bangla Desh who came to UK 42 years ago - was told of our experience along this road and our age, he commented, "Well, you had your life!!!"</p><p>In Malaysia, the young and not-so-young often said to us, "Syukur Alhamdulillah!" when they were informed of our age.</p><p>I am so glad I did not discard my Citizenship and abandoned the land of my birth to be a British Citizen. But I was almost in tears when one morning a few weeks ago, Iain said this in utter despair; "This is not my home any more."</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOYLpKJNG1-g-Gp2vaCy4L9avvmtYLjOpVPOU8mTl_hNg7zx5xMoE3LaBEEBxPXQNbMS9k7ShWLa3dyZ9pS9O5QcfNXBYmnv5maHeiJrKmErvfi8Er2pSUYAVWCeYuRdMVnSCC_fMAj8uL6EPO0auRfoWCp0kAT5SIa-kNRzquvcd_AkNWGkVTez8Fmg=s4096" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOYLpKJNG1-g-Gp2vaCy4L9avvmtYLjOpVPOU8mTl_hNg7zx5xMoE3LaBEEBxPXQNbMS9k7ShWLa3dyZ9pS9O5QcfNXBYmnv5maHeiJrKmErvfi8Er2pSUYAVWCeYuRdMVnSCC_fMAj8uL6EPO0auRfoWCp0kAT5SIa-kNRzquvcd_AkNWGkVTez8Fmg=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Just a cuppa tea and mince pie, but it's not my home any more.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I understand how you feel love. Some of the time, in fact most of the time, I also feel my <i>Tanah Air </i>has left me.</p><p> </p><p>I shall conclude in traditional British style : a sort of two-fingers defiance.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgW5iPaKclv4ADrI864Lv6arPhARPsAWfBVGXvLaFwJzKqgTOWXIAfhHl9v71K_2OwvyVimNPNo9HwDzWwu-aZFkPbdImhQSbc54bL7dYhV0Q2ll7rWtYG0wUooUbH0U-hvptyGsFP0YiA6rnlAkpr1y2i40P_UD0Doblq7EAkFWgUQ5K_mPXSbPhq2MQ=s3264" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgW5iPaKclv4ADrI864Lv6arPhARPsAWfBVGXvLaFwJzKqgTOWXIAfhHl9v71K_2OwvyVimNPNo9HwDzWwu-aZFkPbdImhQSbc54bL7dYhV0Q2ll7rWtYG0wUooUbH0U-hvptyGsFP0YiA6rnlAkpr1y2i40P_UD0Doblq7EAkFWgUQ5K_mPXSbPhq2MQ=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">from upstairs ..</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjW8LeUZAOxoQEkzc9L1GREpK9uSKGohiT3_i3pJ0MuxAVfvoeMLvlNri5i4Tbe2Ie_ymAt9WgkTTPfjxsP3gg40Fmm_shb2fd0nFumpBu_9ieLBFP59Bh-E91T6ZBxc7Pz5yV8tryMcbTDxlhZ6Rf3nPlhiSDVFalgQtphirq100PJvDAXsE7KhitNWw=s3264" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjW8LeUZAOxoQEkzc9L1GREpK9uSKGohiT3_i3pJ0MuxAVfvoeMLvlNri5i4Tbe2Ie_ymAt9WgkTTPfjxsP3gg40Fmm_shb2fd0nFumpBu_9ieLBFP59Bh-E91T6ZBxc7Pz5yV8tryMcbTDxlhZ6Rf3nPlhiSDVFalgQtphirq100PJvDAXsE7KhitNWw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">...... from downstairs.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p><p><br /></p><p>After all, though I am 77 and the spouse is 79, we still have our work (writing ) to do and a life to live.</p><p>Syukur Alhamdulillah - for giving us this gift.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p></div></div></div>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-64079891191365122502021-10-12T05:54:00.005+01:002021-10-12T07:31:22.941+01:00" I'd love to turn you on " - A Holey History of Malaya/Malaysia BC<p>The title of this posting is from the Beatles' "A Day in the Life". Here's the song, performed by The Analogues, my favourite Beatles Cover Band. The line for the title of this posting is at 1.38- 3.43.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/sCbZ15JpxPg" width="320" youtube-src-id="sCbZ15JpxPg"></iframe></div><br /><p>I have always enjoyed the irrepressible mocking lyrics in this song, especially the bit about "four thousand holes in Blackburn Lancashire." It reminds me of the history of Malaya/Malaysia BC (that is, Before Colonisation). For the last 70+ years since approximately the 1950s when the Semenanjung was directly ruled by the British, we've been getting a version of history which is scattered with ruptures and omissions and a lack of continuity. We've been served a history full of holes.</p><p>Let me quote this extract by an English journalist and author Peter Hitchens a few years back.</p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>A country whose young know no history (and even the Eton-educated PM seems vague about Magna Carta and seems never to have heard of the 1689 Bill of Rights) is like a person with amnesia roaming the streets, the easy target of every sort of fraud and crook, ready to swallow the stupidest propaganda. And so we are.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>If you have ever wondered <u>how it is that modern politicians survive and prosper when they are so obviously mediocre and incompetent,</u> now you know why. <u>Hardly anyone realises how bad they are </u><span style="color: red; text-decoration-line: underline;">because they know no better</span><span>.</span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span>The person who knows no history remains forever a child, unable to see when he is being fooled and robbed.</span></b></span></p><p>Perhaps this explains the quality of Malaysian politicians. But not only Malaysian politicians - also our professional historians, journalists, the know-it-alls in the social media, and of course our bleeding-heart-liberals, indeed, most of those who pontificate on the future destiny of this nation. Our history, especially that written in English by British imperial offcers and by our "locals" since the end of the Second World War was a very selective, seemingly inclusive history full of holes.</p><p>=========================================================================</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="text-align: left;">PLEASE NOTE:</b></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuvJmRiHSLtUXSvTooaMvmdeKs0VCkwxfQJ4sD1qFMqxoYQNHMn3HGfWws0g8_hqC2HLcpLmTxy6F75WCtKpRIBnhxdqEHjoLtDF_4MWxRF2b8igMa2hZRWAcxGD8Yls0kpV4fxlwxsKh_/s762/Copyright+2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="266" data-original-width="762" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuvJmRiHSLtUXSvTooaMvmdeKs0VCkwxfQJ4sD1qFMqxoYQNHMn3HGfWws0g8_hqC2HLcpLmTxy6F75WCtKpRIBnhxdqEHjoLtDF_4MWxRF2b8igMa2hZRWAcxGD8Yls0kpV4fxlwxsKh_/w400-h140/Copyright+2.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><b>Thank you.</b><div>=========================================================================1</div><div><br /></div><div><b><u>HISTORY of the MALAY PENINSULA via MAPS </u> - before the arrival of the Christian West.</b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>1. The Golden Chersonese.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3bvTWK4Nv2f1y09oWtim6g7OgRwm1udBoH8593SsM2fyJR1RJb8YMCV4qkqSuYAOD3K1UEIl7ecLDcdtGDk1VUCiO9LdGxy8ImdHP9R2vbJbGcfX-VZIJ1uO39Y6IcO0oy5kCVu2BvAy8/s507/Golden+Chersonese+Wikipedia.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="507" data-original-width="241" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3bvTWK4Nv2f1y09oWtim6g7OgRwm1udBoH8593SsM2fyJR1RJb8YMCV4qkqSuYAOD3K1UEIl7ecLDcdtGDk1VUCiO9LdGxy8ImdHP9R2vbJbGcfX-VZIJ1uO39Y6IcO0oy5kCVu2BvAy8/w304-h640/Golden+Chersonese+Wikipedia.png" width="304" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Map 1 - From Wikipedia</b></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>2. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOsXNFy4RnOT-mjWC5SfRpHswgWvREDxW3jZHCf3_0H2P-sb1LsDaBaV03mjoQlHBcjwG5QBr1FxgTnYPKJREfCOc2WbDZwvkgOys8w-f4st3Vage_76KRp9522ds1Y0kiZU5qq8aOrEr/s2048/Scan10004trim.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1267" data-original-width="2048" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOsXNFy4RnOT-mjWC5SfRpHswgWvREDxW3jZHCf3_0H2P-sb1LsDaBaV03mjoQlHBcjwG5QBr1FxgTnYPKJREfCOc2WbDZwvkgOys8w-f4st3Vage_76KRp9522ds1Y0kiZU5qq8aOrEr/w640-h396/Scan10004trim.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Map 2 - The Area of the Malay Race or "Gugusan Pulau Pulau Melayu".</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>3.</div><div> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSn_UgogG7EZor18jM7xdkcyYzxk5QEHH1eNti2NJWYtoSraXrvhhm_RaVVCXv4rVhrr4Ars6IUgM7ZP3DVE4fvmz_2C-HjxWt_D5lBLdo7XfQ6wxAGK1lIC3kSd3ndk3tdvR2n_8N1U1u/w480-h640/Scan10005+-+Copy.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="480" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Map 3 - The Malay River States of the Peninsula and Sumatra.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSn_UgogG7EZor18jM7xdkcyYzxk5QEHH1eNti2NJWYtoSraXrvhhm_RaVVCXv4rVhrr4Ars6IUgM7ZP3DVE4fvmz_2C-HjxWt_D5lBLdo7XfQ6wxAGK1lIC3kSd3ndk3tdvR2n_8N1U1u/s2048/Scan10005+-+Copy.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b></b></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span><br /></span></b></span></p><p>Maps 1 to 3 refer to the period before Catholic Portugal, Protestant Netherlands and Britain ventured East to scour for spices, territory and to convert the Malays. (<i>Sambil selam sambil minum air</i>)</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>4. The political division of the Malay Peninsula under British rule in 1933. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-6O7igWqPm9Epo85sYzeHzZgOyswdHU9ccBcZukIFyfK9ABoDJVBhomrIWgZnF6tgzJwgPgVNmZZtRTEVUPPjYl9Vlb1oD4JOYhfg-TWyGkc6qlnhvkN9qKJBJABhakwXSMlmvfnkjvr/s2048/10003trim+and+text.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1892" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-6O7igWqPm9Epo85sYzeHzZgOyswdHU9ccBcZukIFyfK9ABoDJVBhomrIWgZnF6tgzJwgPgVNmZZtRTEVUPPjYl9Vlb1oD4JOYhfg-TWyGkc6qlnhvkN9qKJBJABhakwXSMlmvfnkjvr/w592-h640/10003trim+and+text.jpg" width="592" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Note the political divisions of (1) the Straits Settlements (or Colonies), (2) the Federated Malay States and (3) the Unfederated Malay States.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p> 5. And here's a map close to my psyche - land use in Selangor, 1933. Selangor is a state that has been excessively exploited for its resources and land-space - even till today. In 1933 there were large swathes of commercial farming, mining, and slices of padi farming. It is perhaps "the most developed" state in Malaysia. Today (August 2021 )it also boasts the highest number of Covid 19 infections for each and every day!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqSRuABCrgH_oT_TD6yQ1ibvapVD9EamvDnKXnPK5lbM5nx8Hl29nvlmFgj1MDPkUpgu37PmHxQoODjrA5uA0DZkkPihYyUw8f36isXDDO2Sn_1KI5GJlQ8D60MtaUm2BJf8hWyPRNTj0/s2048/trim10006andtext.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2008" data-original-width="2048" height="628" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqSRuABCrgH_oT_TD6yQ1ibvapVD9EamvDnKXnPK5lbM5nx8Hl29nvlmFgj1MDPkUpgu37PmHxQoODjrA5uA0DZkkPihYyUw8f36isXDDO2Sn_1KI5GJlQ8D60MtaUm2BJf8hWyPRNTj0/w640-h628/trim10006andtext.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>My paternal grandfather's family came from Kuala Selangor. He then moved to Sungai Buloh (16 km northwest of KL). I remembered his Perak style kampung house at Paya Jaras, the padi fields and the rubber smallholding.</p><p>Kuala Kubu Baru, located at the base of Frasers Hill was where I was born - at Ampang Pechah - during the Japanese Occupation. This was where my father's extended family congregated to provide for their families and to shield them from Japanese soldiers and the MCP (Malayan Communist Party)/ MPAJA.</p><p>=========================================================================</p><p><b><u>HISTORY of the MALAY PENINSULA </u> - via a couple of STAMPS</b></p><p>And now, here are a few insight of history from my little collection of stamps. Most of them have been pilfered from the spouse's collection, with his permission!</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>1.</b></span> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiq_fzV6YyMADnoV-frR3LYAS-jqemPMXI6qu9j4QLRHPh9XedaZr-iy7XJPYhSWuzhEny_Hbo83bk4EYxbHfjxDMaWWnkvN7Dw0JYLl_H60BUa3o9oRLW7oPLmBrbyizbtuGl35uKoh2B/s408/Combi+4+Malaya+%2528FMS%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="251" data-original-width="408" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiq_fzV6YyMADnoV-frR3LYAS-jqemPMXI6qu9j4QLRHPh9XedaZr-iy7XJPYhSWuzhEny_Hbo83bk4EYxbHfjxDMaWWnkvN7Dw0JYLl_H60BUa3o9oRLW7oPLmBrbyizbtuGl35uKoh2B/w400-h246/Combi+4+Malaya+%2528FMS%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Sultans of Perak and Selangor from the Federation of Malaya (1948-1957).</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>2.</b></span> Penang as part of the Federation of Malaya.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkUn8NNAe4n3SB5BKJ9O2WqGD7R1HrGYrhUf6cldux8LGK_dNSSOREiXIdWC9oyK5IGp0BRVXAlA4JtXPAwdkCh4duTd2uKiGYQUUXBVu-VWDkjxGg13cwql6gO4grFgin2rKFqzrmpK34/s404/Combi+2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="404" data-original-width="404" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkUn8NNAe4n3SB5BKJ9O2WqGD7R1HrGYrhUf6cldux8LGK_dNSSOREiXIdWC9oyK5IGp0BRVXAlA4JtXPAwdkCh4duTd2uKiGYQUUXBVu-VWDkjxGg13cwql6gO4grFgin2rKFqzrmpK34/w400-h400/Combi+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Penang as part of the Federation of Malaya (1948 - 1957)</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>3.</b></span> My very special Stamp - of the FMS (Federated Malay States) - from 1895 to 1946</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIojnlSjWhKWVYnOOdaPlK2FVuKzplAjKDrWoclTq17mWHMMLL502KmyRFPUzosA8Us2W1h2F1iBPLNirPpJ6GZp9TffxZHiXbuBOIqj6cAD_8puzZOd4x5F6FCyZJRrBnM1qOaNFbaNJ/s302/Federated+Malay+States.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="251" data-original-width="302" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIojnlSjWhKWVYnOOdaPlK2FVuKzplAjKDrWoclTq17mWHMMLL502KmyRFPUzosA8Us2W1h2F1iBPLNirPpJ6GZp9TffxZHiXbuBOIqj6cAD_8puzZOd4x5F6FCyZJRrBnM1qOaNFbaNJ/w400-h333/Federated+Malay+States.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Federated Malay States ( 1895 - 1947)</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>4.</b></span> The UFMS ( Unfederated Malay States) - 1909 to 1948.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ3IcN-MUi9NjDc2Y2RamgVNDQ47PfosiEFyH5usjwXu8G7BFdzQKShFiQsKLb-d_QYt_p2oX57fwLPJFxzkQCrtee6d6_xiIthovucgEaUQJsbIF0PMOacPgJw2aQv24k7SDZgEFmokla/s562/Combi+3+UFMS.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="255" data-original-width="562" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ3IcN-MUi9NjDc2Y2RamgVNDQ47PfosiEFyH5usjwXu8G7BFdzQKShFiQsKLb-d_QYt_p2oX57fwLPJFxzkQCrtee6d6_xiIthovucgEaUQJsbIF0PMOacPgJw2aQv24k7SDZgEFmokla/w640-h290/Combi+3+UFMS.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Three Sultans from the Unfederated Malay States (UFMS) - 1909-1948 : The Sultans of Johore, Kedah and Kelantan.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Johore was the most independent of the Malay Sultanates and were not "persuaded" to accept a British Adviser until 1914.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4t4yMuSSZsCYYO8CH1E5CjdUWskPVcVVUi67JultJLR7Gc1yLLvWOgRN0PQQ8zeeCjvohOwy7060Q95cdCEbbgp0wlT9PTcZcZPW4kMpv9ddI-ZKxAjsVxzuyqq7Fg14RcWU9oarRhv0B/s1502/Johore.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1502" data-original-width="1163" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4t4yMuSSZsCYYO8CH1E5CjdUWskPVcVVUi67JultJLR7Gc1yLLvWOgRN0PQQ8zeeCjvohOwy7060Q95cdCEbbgp0wlT9PTcZcZPW4kMpv9ddI-ZKxAjsVxzuyqq7Fg14RcWU9oarRhv0B/w496-h640/Johore.jpg" width="496" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Sultanate of Johore</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>The other two Sultanates in the UFMS were Trengganu and Perlis.</p><p>These five Malay-Muslim Sultanates have a long sustained history, as complex and impressive as some of the pre-British Indian Maharajas, the Kingdoms in Europe and Britain before the Industrial Revolution or the Chinese dynasties before 1911.</p><p>Johore especially was the most fiercely independent and managed to stave off the British until 1914 when they had to take in a British Adviser.</p><p>Today, in my late seventies, I am still studying and learning about the history of these Malay Sultanates, an aspect of history which I was denied (and was therefore ignorant of ) when I went through a Colonial Education from 1951 to 1963. </p><p>Let me resort to Wikipedia to present a summary of the history of Johor, Kedah, Kelantan, Trengganu and Perlis.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR229tmcW8YPa1aNtVZvbZCvNzU_TGk70sDBL5qUwevz8XdRLmADJPht9h6e9DeK7281vSasA7_0_qYOVD6ueCCHFTmXIKSGhbhc6sPt53bWN8xxqp4p60iEEhAlzi1sEv7ty7ion15tiD/s312/A.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="230" data-original-width="312" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR229tmcW8YPa1aNtVZvbZCvNzU_TGk70sDBL5qUwevz8XdRLmADJPht9h6e9DeK7281vSasA7_0_qYOVD6ueCCHFTmXIKSGhbhc6sPt53bWN8xxqp4p60iEEhAlzi1sEv7ty7ion15tiD/w640-h472/A.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Johor</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Ck11ltDXh_DMuDaA6zz7c1X0mC8EuG16p-hbaSaDnV7XKOB9R5zVRe2o4E6nzCBRR2bwV8Z8NWZDIJQ8BQBM7iA_xjdkgRhQOqnq-koVvhCH5fjXJ77CrBoBgG_b4ij84RFa-_ENuW1Y/s865/B+Kedah.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="205" data-original-width="865" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Ck11ltDXh_DMuDaA6zz7c1X0mC8EuG16p-hbaSaDnV7XKOB9R5zVRe2o4E6nzCBRR2bwV8Z8NWZDIJQ8BQBM7iA_xjdkgRhQOqnq-koVvhCH5fjXJ77CrBoBgG_b4ij84RFa-_ENuW1Y/w640-h152/B+Kedah.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Kedah</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL02MwMQY3HgdMQJ0YHrn8-4Odl1BBlUkZqY8smt9Z7NNuHNpLTgWOZEWzNVNeQg70IS5Osd5KXW2TJitRfXriNBjBe0hIZD1DKSqQ99WD2_P6EVu5VLbHpcEA3P5SJuTaA9v469uR0wNk/s1199/C+-+Kelantan.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="517" data-original-width="1199" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL02MwMQY3HgdMQJ0YHrn8-4Odl1BBlUkZqY8smt9Z7NNuHNpLTgWOZEWzNVNeQg70IS5Osd5KXW2TJitRfXriNBjBe0hIZD1DKSqQ99WD2_P6EVu5VLbHpcEA3P5SJuTaA9v469uR0wNk/w640-h276/C+-+Kelantan.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Kelantan</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhppWbCdV8yDt6uAvYZ1K51-alrRHaMSSjFRd6bGyfpGsoEpPGRb-WpFHCdiji2VhyphenhyphenRYQsXMs7YhPBzpVYTrhc1YE3_R7FAmKxaV90pZCcU8Avtl2QdckiEeHv3fKGaOddv7G5qoxzGO3jj/s1170/D+-+Perlis.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="543" data-original-width="1170" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhppWbCdV8yDt6uAvYZ1K51-alrRHaMSSjFRd6bGyfpGsoEpPGRb-WpFHCdiji2VhyphenhyphenRYQsXMs7YhPBzpVYTrhc1YE3_R7FAmKxaV90pZCcU8Avtl2QdckiEeHv3fKGaOddv7G5qoxzGO3jj/w640-h298/D+-+Perlis.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Perlis</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7xLNJMzTPQ4pwwGZ6_AcNNeXsVxD6p9-cIbfKnyBHCy9XJeDFifdBRXsO5kJIvO5HFuPMpKQo_qGuaGMsSSUF2dGiLyQot5Hk6o8hP0FczMvD-6gzQWwE-z3YLz5za1AWsPpE6GYphXXm/s1158/E++Trengganu.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="507" data-original-width="1158" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7xLNJMzTPQ4pwwGZ6_AcNNeXsVxD6p9-cIbfKnyBHCy9XJeDFifdBRXsO5kJIvO5HFuPMpKQo_qGuaGMsSSUF2dGiLyQot5Hk6o8hP0FczMvD-6gzQWwE-z3YLz5za1AWsPpE6GYphXXm/w640-h280/E++Trengganu.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Trengganu</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>5.</b></span> <b>The STRAITS SETTLEMENTS - ( 1876 - 1946 )</b></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXCKwNlaHGnXnWEprAgX2hO-XFv1uWfy64b_6u6x83Kno0EwTYjpRtjCPpsT4m2VJmad-xMr4IgNOZu_cdgEY3beGCT_yZTL1AdU1H1IqgmYZLFjXeetkMsLUHJIW2GWo9AbXpqPoNVd84/s836/COMBI+9+-3+generations+of+the+Imperial+rulers+of+the+SS.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="258" data-original-width="836" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXCKwNlaHGnXnWEprAgX2hO-XFv1uWfy64b_6u6x83Kno0EwTYjpRtjCPpsT4m2VJmad-xMr4IgNOZu_cdgEY3beGCT_yZTL1AdU1H1IqgmYZLFjXeetkMsLUHJIW2GWo9AbXpqPoNVd84/w640-h198/COMBI+9+-3+generations+of+the+Imperial+rulers+of+the+SS.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Three generations of the Imperial Rulers of Singapore, Penang and Melaka or the Straits Settlements.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The Straits Settlements had quite an intriguing history. They are all islands or coastal sites much sought after by the imperial Western powers especially Britain during the 18th and 19th century for setting up their forts and ports and trading stations so essential for harvesting the lucrative spice trade and later rubber and tin from the Semenanjung. We could describe them as <b>Des Res</b> (a 20th/21st century estate agents' jargon meaning "desirable residence") for their commercial enterprise and political expansion.</p><p>Other than Singapore, Malacca and Penang, the Dindings (today Manjung), including Pangkor Island, Lumut and Sitiawan became a part of the Straits Settlement <b>( Negri Negri Selat) </b>when they were "ceded" to the British by the Sultan of Perak under the terms of the 1874 Pangkor Treaty. I reckon the Pangkor Treaty is not unlike the 1840 Treaty of Waitangi when the Maoris lost the war with the British settlers and authority and had to accede to Pakeha (white man) suzerainty. In Malaya, the Sultans of the richest states (in terms of land and natural resources), Selangor, Perak and Negri Sembilan had to "accept a British Adviser" and open up their states to enterprising, hardworking, audacious, efficient and smart zealots of progress and development from overseas!</p><p>But alas for the Dindings , they were "returned" to the Sultan of Perak by the British in 1935 because it turned out to be a financial disappointment. Imagine if Singapore or Penang for that matter, did not have the resource-rich hinterland of the Malay Peninsula to grease their wheels of commerce and enterprise! </p><p>By the way, early Singapore's hinterland also included the rest of the Malay Archipelago like Brunei, British North Borneo and Sarawak and especially Indonesia.</p><p>Here's a summary.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5lVB3oLQAhcorRK3L_iSlx-0MI7WYoNKzsyc9y6hnmiThnZMiH-74VvrB8rHgU2A-1RVsRAQDv3l9DeFudtgSjHu20fT7I_MEVyRcNN6FwEk0qgIxuJJAgA8vArES7ELxneYL0ZQnfaaO/s527/Straits+Settlements+-+Wiki.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="527" data-original-width="306" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5lVB3oLQAhcorRK3L_iSlx-0MI7WYoNKzsyc9y6hnmiThnZMiH-74VvrB8rHgU2A-1RVsRAQDv3l9DeFudtgSjHu20fT7I_MEVyRcNN6FwEk0qgIxuJJAgA8vArES7ELxneYL0ZQnfaaO/w372-h640/Straits+Settlements+-+Wiki.png" width="372" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Straits Settlements from Wikipedia.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Let's now look at the jewel in the crown of the British in the Malay Archipelago.. It started as a territory of the Sultanate of Johore which was part of the Riau-Johore Empire. This Empire was one of several powerful Muslim Sultanates in the Malay Archipelago before the invasions and dismemberment by Christian Spain, Portugal, Britain and the Netherlands and certainly by their own political squabbles and intrigues as most empires are wont to do.</p><p>Then in 1819 Stamford Raffles "discovered" Singapore. The rest is history - that of the rise and rise of Singapore to what it has become today. Here's a simple description of its colonial history from the Singapore Annual Report of 1957.</p><p><b><u>Stage 1</u></b> - the creation of the Straits Settlements.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbxTj5oyLlZ4vFCnQdIJ6weRd8xoqI5kQAIopa94DdPEoNh-C_SHobLbvt4wiwlu3thMrtfw3o9LRLJodEr0NErdp3GHlaw4_u_7bZDw4eDtW9DTE1SGcJb8jhT-ubwycK3sjbkkYhSAmZ/s1342/SS+1+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1135" data-original-width="1342" height="542" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbxTj5oyLlZ4vFCnQdIJ6weRd8xoqI5kQAIopa94DdPEoNh-C_SHobLbvt4wiwlu3thMrtfw3o9LRLJodEr0NErdp3GHlaw4_u_7bZDw4eDtW9DTE1SGcJb8jhT-ubwycK3sjbkkYhSAmZ/w640-h542/SS+1+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Singapore was originally governed by the (British) Indian Government. What if Lord Canning had not dumped Raffles' creation? Singapore would have been a part of the Republic of India!<br /><br /></b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><u><b><br /></b></u></div><div><u><b>Stage 2</b></u> - Growing British intervention in the Malay States at the behest of British and Chinese businessmen in Singapore.<div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLaeYQ81M7wklPdm-VsFLVxGDJkdIMJrukpf7AOKs3JGPD0sD_PeACp_I9Zrx6Uei5lOM0ZurFp4u9VRSflVBRju6Ghi-TosdZRjlOa0c0yyFh9fT8SwaB5qSimHy0tSMohLEfT3WNDTs6/s1331/SS+2+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="349" data-original-width="1331" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLaeYQ81M7wklPdm-VsFLVxGDJkdIMJrukpf7AOKs3JGPD0sD_PeACp_I9Zrx6Uei5lOM0ZurFp4u9VRSflVBRju6Ghi-TosdZRjlOa0c0yyFh9fT8SwaB5qSimHy0tSMohLEfT3WNDTs6/w640-h168/SS+2+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Well, you see, we native Malays were occupying "an unhealthy, sparsely-populated and anarchic country"! We had to be reformed (the precursor of REFORMASI in Malaysia) and converted into "the most prosperous and best-developed of all Britain's tropical dependencies".</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><u><b>Stage 3</b></u> - Actually the beneficiary of this civilizing mission in the Semenanjung was Singapore. She had no natural resources, be it commercial crops or tin or gold. She specialized in being the middle man and servicing the ambitions of the British Empire in Southeast Asia. They gave this predatory-colonial function the grand name of <b>"Entreport Trade".</b></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhcf80PJZCaxcPntm_d4x9Ju5FuZc6NOXrajLPMw9QSR7EjYWC-4hluA_luozN5Fhu6TGN1A3yliMLnAvJB_N8Ajc8s1KUPzHIUA-8q-MDQO111nmRUhHU8rpt8OO4W7vJolQ3xMcDGWFk/s1345/SS+3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1247" data-original-width="1345" height="594" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhcf80PJZCaxcPntm_d4x9Ju5FuZc6NOXrajLPMw9QSR7EjYWC-4hluA_luozN5Fhu6TGN1A3yliMLnAvJB_N8Ajc8s1KUPzHIUA-8q-MDQO111nmRUhHU8rpt8OO4W7vJolQ3xMcDGWFk/w640-h594/SS+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Singapore - middle men par excellence. Where would Singapore be without the tin mines and plantations in the Semenanjung? The FMS, UFMS, the Malayan Union (fortunately for the Malays it had to be aborted) and the Federation of Malaya were hand- maidens for the development and prosperity of Singapore.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /><br /><p><br /></p><p><u><b>Stage 4</b></u> - Recently, we are hearing more and more claims by non-Bumiputeras and a sprinkling of Malay liberals that immigrants from China and India came to the Semenanjung to contribute to the economic development of British "possessions" in the Malay Peninsula.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9-MDF-k6kCaMUAGCc7aL0fruG0XnV9bq_T5hNg-AafUrjiFMah6WvQsv0aZVrZnIG9cUBfWsTO0J7giSABp_FRb2sBnRUoBz2UPsrQwqPh4HQGQGVo7tds8U_VyVDjA0eBAApG-f6QNJ/s885/Mahathir+gushing+out+the+compliments+Nov+2018.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="332" data-original-width="885" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9-MDF-k6kCaMUAGCc7aL0fruG0XnV9bq_T5hNg-AafUrjiFMah6WvQsv0aZVrZnIG9cUBfWsTO0J7giSABp_FRb2sBnRUoBz2UPsrQwqPh4HQGQGVo7tds8U_VyVDjA0eBAApG-f6QNJ/w640-h240/Mahathir+gushing+out+the+compliments+Nov+2018.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The main actor and beneficiary of this "development" was actually the British who provided the infrastructure and backup for a "colonial economy", for employing and encouraging the immigrants who would serve to be the right kind of labour to service and develop British imperial ambition and their coffers. It's a perfect contrivance of management and labour to govern and control the resources of this "unhealthy, sparsely-populated and anarchic" denizens of the Malay Peninsula.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>Singapore (and Malaya for that matter) is a prime example of a scenario where people do not migrate to create prosperity for the intended country. They are there because there is already prosperity (and little competition) and the promise of more. "Population followed prosperity"!!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftaetg1wIDjLSInDzUBIaf1-gmxTj4BHk16ri8rQ-DFtTVkQjjSuN4B8y6YsDhfZZbWdIaMroPJbhvqAeGttL4321sIZy_L1EYtgiD7S48cX996dCIPWyVDBkyGE_Jf0QKNmj6vGT2Pbt/s1345/SS+4.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1109" data-original-width="1345" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftaetg1wIDjLSInDzUBIaf1-gmxTj4BHk16ri8rQ-DFtTVkQjjSuN4B8y6YsDhfZZbWdIaMroPJbhvqAeGttL4321sIZy_L1EYtgiD7S48cX996dCIPWyVDBkyGE_Jf0QKNmj6vGT2Pbt/w640-h528/SS+4.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Tin and rubber and other cash crops have been the curse of the Tanah Semenanjung. It's far more palatable to be a poor man in a poor country than to be be poor in your well-endowed Tanah Air.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">6.</span> BRITISH NORTH BORNEO and SARAWAK</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifP_XfT9ihyphenhyphenS34Dms2FK61RcSuKaWEzWOZa7ls0Gxqnj1ElUKbEnJzTJEoV0ccKA37xRRq7lIGX2R5x4y4VAc_6frB39j_n0qFHOMbto02cDjPEGmi98GzrG6-6zSnJma7tbIFnenKMR-P/s548/Combi+6.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="245" data-original-width="548" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifP_XfT9ihyphenhyphenS34Dms2FK61RcSuKaWEzWOZa7ls0Gxqnj1ElUKbEnJzTJEoV0ccKA37xRRq7lIGX2R5x4y4VAc_6frB39j_n0qFHOMbto02cDjPEGmi98GzrG6-6zSnJma7tbIFnenKMR-P/w320-h143/Combi+6.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>British North Borneo</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQqLMcuIZP58mp9uChSFrGCSvm8_0fOZAcfLHQbwqKwKOnltTl7dB-hUfkOP_xeUR_3v70Tp-u-TxtzKcCySTtEj7GjMkzF1Lfs8xeCEQ-Jr8fJs-DQyF2AIhQwmoILHzDjqyle8uU3Af/s660/Combi+Sar.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="660" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQqLMcuIZP58mp9uChSFrGCSvm8_0fOZAcfLHQbwqKwKOnltTl7dB-hUfkOP_xeUR_3v70Tp-u-TxtzKcCySTtEj7GjMkzF1Lfs8xeCEQ-Jr8fJs-DQyF2AIhQwmoILHzDjqyle8uU3Af/w400-h291/Combi+Sar.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Sarawak</b></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p> <br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGpXpOnA75CrKFbUwMcbsIwxjf2GSzwIv5y4qGol-2xi2CD8rqlTMtJJCgYEh2bcvp1VSjj9qtnW97YJgVNOSI-yCz5wgrSp7mecfJ9KLfhS92vDS3P-meRUn0vTWAn15Su8jMp4yxp3BM/s794/img130+-+Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="466" data-original-width="794" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGpXpOnA75CrKFbUwMcbsIwxjf2GSzwIv5y4qGol-2xi2CD8rqlTMtJJCgYEh2bcvp1VSjj9qtnW97YJgVNOSI-yCz5wgrSp7mecfJ9KLfhS92vDS3P-meRUn0vTWAn15Su8jMp4yxp3BM/w400-h235/img130+-+Copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Brunei</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Why, you may ask, did I put Brunei in this list of stamps? </p><p>There's this book ....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsz-XwvozD8-0xXrQnxsBocMJhfYlaoy2PhKHDGGgFXEYUTLcI4la9eDtA48gok1216iIo97LgNfEC0KTvss7a7oqw52zoS_lisIiEJgN75Bh1coYwdNvRs2cB8A9HxbZvsfuf94zw7xUA/s2048/8.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1147" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsz-XwvozD8-0xXrQnxsBocMJhfYlaoy2PhKHDGGgFXEYUTLcI4la9eDtA48gok1216iIo97LgNfEC0KTvss7a7oqw52zoS_lisIiEJgN75Bh1coYwdNvRs2cB8A9HxbZvsfuf94zw7xUA/w358-h640/8.jpg" width="358" /></a></div><br /><p>...... which I found in Chowrasta Market, Georgetown in 1992. As someone who appreciated geography in University, I just love maps and charts and graphs.</p><p>This here is a beautiful chart by Jan Pluvier on the history of Southeast Asia. <b>But more interesting, he showed the history before the imperial West arrived in Southeast Asia!</b></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUzX4yFU13mFvCsmhfp4OTSIm2upTpbhHCmd6LV7MVXUmuQXiQXUYzUWlnPm-7Z_bRnK_EKeaYah3qaDSLxrFRIZrt91Kc2PxxPnNhee2DrdvPNfV8Ks9ozMoOyphMW-nNr5GB4ukg_Vo/s2048/Chart+1+-+Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1567" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUzX4yFU13mFvCsmhfp4OTSIm2upTpbhHCmd6LV7MVXUmuQXiQXUYzUWlnPm-7Z_bRnK_EKeaYah3qaDSLxrFRIZrt91Kc2PxxPnNhee2DrdvPNfV8Ks9ozMoOyphMW-nNr5GB4ukg_Vo/w490-h640/Chart+1+-+Copy.jpg" width="490" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Chart for Burma, Indo-China, Thailand and Federation of Malaya from 1784 to 1965.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><p>More fascinating, the chart below succintly outlines the pedigree of British North Borneo (known as Sabah today) and Sarawak.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMwsu1hA_ul01mMrsM2bMQPquZ2fV-UeN7xvREAOQOMv9vcRym0_yVqCXlkwzCN_k7-0r42w6M6RwAoXQkF57dF_ku1S81ywDwTdRHciCCFxbeueUzS_eG_lU-Gwd5WLJFVNfkCEQjBIqC/s2048/Chart+2+-+Sabah%2526Sarawak+-+circled.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1562" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMwsu1hA_ul01mMrsM2bMQPquZ2fV-UeN7xvREAOQOMv9vcRym0_yVqCXlkwzCN_k7-0r42w6M6RwAoXQkF57dF_ku1S81ywDwTdRHciCCFxbeueUzS_eG_lU-Gwd5WLJFVNfkCEQjBIqC/w488-h640/Chart+2+-+Sabah%2526Sarawak+-+circled.jpg" width="488" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Sarawak and North Borneo (Sabah) from 1784 to 1965.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Here is an extracted, close-up, horizontal view of the historical time-line of Malaya and British North Borneo (Sabah) / Sarawak. It clearly indicates the 'genealogy' of the states that became Malaysia in 1963.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVtxUeFf6fu74_Q_ktaDtGuYFUw-pYl6Vo8JhfXc2Rb8IU9zwle0RaSUBn1viEE6Vpjh9uv-cszoSXt9RlUjEj_43KnbtOlGtWopkh39ARYFxxfrEKOC_rKr880ATplDxrUG7q9lc2s7CN/s2818/Combi+Malaya+%2526+Sar+and+Sabah+-+Horizontal+-+Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="546" data-original-width="2818" height="124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVtxUeFf6fu74_Q_ktaDtGuYFUw-pYl6Vo8JhfXc2Rb8IU9zwle0RaSUBn1viEE6Vpjh9uv-cszoSXt9RlUjEj_43KnbtOlGtWopkh39ARYFxxfrEKOC_rKr880ATplDxrUG7q9lc2s7CN/w640-h124/Combi+Malaya+%2526+Sar+and+Sabah+-+Horizontal+-+Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Genealogy of Malaysia.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>As I have said many a time, the history of the Malay Peninsula did not begin with the invasion of Malacca by the Portuguese, or the arrival of the the adventurer-fortune hunter Francis Light in Penang or the Liberal, English grocer Stamford Raffles in Singapore, or the sly Pangkor Treaty of 1874, or the acquisitiveness behind the creation of the Federation of Malaya in 1948 and the self-serving agenda in forming Malaysia in 1963.</p><p>And certainly the genesis of British North Borneo (Sabah) and Sarawak located in Asia's largest island and third largest in the world - did not begin with the swashbuckling adventurer Brooke or with two business men Crocker and Treacher or the British Crown Office!</p><br /><p><br /></p><p>This is from Jan Pluvier's "A Handbook and Chart of South-East Asian History" which outlines the details, including the Sultanate of Brunei.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjXIYFr1VM5WluAcuOrpiHl98VOyuza2UPocln3t_w-PMx0qWGTaRVjMgd8nU_Ej9VgctjU5rKecNJxj85_DXiodpXgdre7cvOy7SarGeRaubrNiUwMKuzonkj386yiaXp1przBy6lgG2I/s2048/14+-+Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1839" data-original-width="2048" height="574" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjXIYFr1VM5WluAcuOrpiHl98VOyuza2UPocln3t_w-PMx0qWGTaRVjMgd8nU_Ej9VgctjU5rKecNJxj85_DXiodpXgdre7cvOy7SarGeRaubrNiUwMKuzonkj386yiaXp1przBy6lgG2I/w640-h574/14+-+Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuTi8OtlUm-Lhql7dqF8SpUDLheO96hYMV8axMpHG0sy0IICDAEmRjyhGr5OWvat7w7AeCnfodSUZbwDErD-c0-N8gJ8Hu8lwrkfLrUgUoaMblmlFH8bwkCSp7LPDtmoQFea6TtxvMKBDD/s1283/14+-+Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1048" data-original-width="1283" height="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuTi8OtlUm-Lhql7dqF8SpUDLheO96hYMV8axMpHG0sy0IICDAEmRjyhGr5OWvat7w7AeCnfodSUZbwDErD-c0-N8gJ8Hu8lwrkfLrUgUoaMblmlFH8bwkCSp7LPDtmoQFea6TtxvMKBDD/w640-h522/14+-+Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Close-up view of the black square above.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>The history of present day Sabah and Sarawak has a long ancestry and it stretches back to the Malay-Muslim Sultanate of Brunei and the Sultanate of Sulu (for Sabah and the Philippines as well)</p><p>On their part, the British did not attempt to garb their history for only as far as the coming of the Anglo-Saxons, the conquest by the Roman Empire or the Norman conquest of 1066. They even stretch back to the Stone Age!</p><p><br /></p><p></p><p>So perhaps Malaysians should not just moan about the lack of inclusivelness in the school textbooks for Malaysian schools today. As Malaysians they should express a broader and wider concept of Malaysian history that spans way, way back to recorded time before Spice and Christianity lured the West to this <b>"unhealthy, sparsely-populated anarchic"</b> Malay Archipelago. Do step outside the box of British rule, the MCP insurrection and the 'pioneers' and movers and shakers of economic development in Malaya/Malaysia post 1511 and especially post 1786 when Francis Light took over Penang. The history of pre-Islamic Malaya would be in the picture as well because we should not focus only on the religion of an ethnic group but of that particular ethnic cluster, the Malays. </p><p>The history of Indians in India/Pakistan did not begin with Robert Clive and the 1757 Battle of Plassey when the British Empire stamped their foothold on the Indian sub-continent. Similarly, the history of the Chinese should not be viewed merely from Sun Yat Sen's 1911 Revolution when China became a Republic or Mao Tse Tung's establishment of Communism in 1949.</p><p>Certainly the history of Malaya, as a part of the Malay Archipelago, has to give due recognition and application to the history of the Malays and their rise and fall, their triumphs and disasters, their challenges and follies. This is no bumptious demonstration of their <i>Ketuanan</i>, only their <i><b>Keturunan</b></i>, only an acknowledgement of the womb they came from. The Malays should not be denied that. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Human history becomes more and more a race between education and catastrophe</span><span style="color: #2b00fe;">. </span></p><p>H G Wells (1866 - 1946 )</p><p><br /></p><p>=========================================================================</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Addendum 1.</b> Here's an interesting recent perception on Imperialism and Immigration. Now that the British are extending immigration rights to the Afghanis who have been "co-operating" with them (after smashing their country into pieces); they are also making certain that these immigrants will "integrate" into British society and British culture so as to ensure the dominance of their racial and cultural suzerainty and avoid having to deal with a messy and toxic demographic scenario - like what they left behind in their former imperial domain like Malaya!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdQ5Xg8ROTqVGhH8l42r30eAZ9XudoZfzf6RcbLi6JfrCTA5SNwTojy-SWp1Qs3NuGdJ1jDr7K8xtlLDR2kLY8m219z-2MLZMe6vx2s8oFOX2-z9hG1OcP_wSW1QBi4lYVO1Hxf5ra6-6/s697/Cut+1.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="395" data-original-width="697" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdQ5Xg8ROTqVGhH8l42r30eAZ9XudoZfzf6RcbLi6JfrCTA5SNwTojy-SWp1Qs3NuGdJ1jDr7K8xtlLDR2kLY8m219z-2MLZMe6vx2s8oFOX2-z9hG1OcP_wSW1QBi4lYVO1Hxf5ra6-6/w640-h362/Cut+1.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The imperialists created a legacy of <i>unviable states and toxic demographies. </i>They (Britain) now spout human rights, equality, freedom as the panacea for the poor benighted people (that is, the host country like the Malays in Malaya) who were left to cope.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><b>Addendum 2. </b>Failed Government! <i>Kerajaan Gagal!</i></p><p>Singapore has a population of 5.45 million. Malaysia's population is 32.7 million, that is, 6 times that of Singapore's.</p><p>At its worst, the daily cases of Covid 19 infections amounted to about 24,000 per day (around August) in Malaysia.</p><p>For Singapore, its highest per day was about 3,400 (7 October)</p><p>As a percentage of the population, Singapore and Malaysia's rate of daily infection would hover around 0.6 % to 0.7 %.</p><p>In Singapore, there were no black-shirted citizens yelling "Failed Government", no Opposition voices questioning the efficacy and credibility of the Government's efforts. Very little came from the local social media to tear the MOH, the Government, the Police, the Hospitals to pieces over what they reckoned was a scandalous failure. Even Mr Goh Chok Tong, the former Prime Minister of Singapore kept a respectable, understanding distance. </p><p>So, so unlike Malaysia's previous and wannabe Prime Ministers. </p><p>Singapore's PAP rule OK!</p><p>Lucky ole Singapore.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><br /><p><b><br /></b></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div></div></div></div>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-11094903570603387482021-10-07T09:59:00.005+01:002021-10-07T09:59:51.845+01:00In Loving Memory of KT<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9WZbKhrh1H79eGVEZURj42zL0IE7_JUKpLG2IB7WeLt5k6Xqab7aNqBIncje-vF4LsGk84djsr47UKN04atqLbdUhhFhrUw7QW8unaKl4WZ8S4Lz3a727_WdHob0yPe5Oa-g9yZlo9cLz/s986/Katy+RIP+-+Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="986" data-original-width="696" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9WZbKhrh1H79eGVEZURj42zL0IE7_JUKpLG2IB7WeLt5k6Xqab7aNqBIncje-vF4LsGk84djsr47UKN04atqLbdUhhFhrUw7QW8unaKl4WZ8S4Lz3a727_WdHob0yPe5Oa-g9yZlo9cLz/w452-h640/Katy+RIP+-+Copy.jpg" width="452" /></a></div><br /><p>Dear KT. It took your sad passsing for me to discover that you were 12 years older than me! In all those two years when I was your colleague and lunch companion at Jurong Secondary School from 1975 to 1977 and during our lunch-revivals when I was teaching in Brunei from 1978 to 1984 and after I left Singapore for good as of 1985, you were the epitome of youthful liveliness and good cheer.</p><p>That memory of our times together as colleagues and good friends have lit up my life and times all these years since we were separated by our changing and changed directions in life.</p><p>I am so grateful that sometime during 2008 or 2009 those dear former students of ours from JSS (Year 1977) managed to put us together again. By then life and circumstances have changed drastically for both of us and our girls as well. But you retained that effervescent personality and gentle graciousness that have always been your hallmark for as long as I have known you. What I would give to catch that warm and sweet smile again.</p><p>I remember two occasions when we were teaching at JSS when I saw a Miss Lim Keow Teen that so endeared you to me and I felt that here was one good person and friend I must treasure.</p><p>It was sometime during my first week in JSS when I encountered my first dose of the incorrigible spirit of these kids from the backwaters of US or Ulu Singapore. No middle class parents would deign to enrol their offspring in JSS - a den of working class kids from Jurong Industrial Estate. </p><p>I was on my way to the Teachers' Common Room when I saw a little commotion in one of the classrooms. There was a bunch of 14 year-old boys pushing something into the class cupboard. I put my head in and asked if there was a problem. They were startled and as a result, several boys fell out of the cupboard, the littlest of them was the first one to descend. I still remember his name, Suhaimi. The puzzled (not angry) look on my face made one of them explain: "We are trying to find out how many (boys) can be stored in the cupboard." What did I do? The normal thing was to call in the Discipline Teacher and bundle them into the Principal's Office. I put on a straight face and told them sternly, "Just be careful".</p><p>As soon as I got into the TCR I broke out in laughter at the antics of these scalawags . They've got spirit I said. But some of the teachers frowned and said they should be punished. Only one teacher shared my glee. She was Miss Lim Keow Teen who became from then on my very special friend.</p><p>I found it strange that the ones who disapproved were younger than KT and I!</p><p><br /></p><p>KT was a brilliant English Language and English Literature teacher. She could extract the best out of those kids even though they think she's rather old-fashioned and quaint because of her hair style and her dressing.</p><p>She was later relegated to teaching English as a Second Language in the Chinese stream of JSS. As she was not a graduate she had to give way to someone who was. KT and I often recall this graduate's excuse for not being too happy to teach one of Shakespeare's plays. I can't remember which. It was because she did not study that particular play when she was in University!</p><p>So KT went to her ESL lesson for Secondary Two, Chinese stream. When she greeted them with the usual "Good Morning Class", they responded with grumpy mutterings - almost hostile. Then one of them, a girl, stood up and haughtily asked KT, "You are Chinese, why do you teach English?" For a moment, KT was stunned, She simply told them. " I am here because I was given this duty by your Principal. Whether you like it or not, English is an important language for you to learn."</p><p>A few days later as KT was walking past these Chinese stream classes the students had prepared another greeting for her. They snapped shut very loudly one by one, the series of louvred windows as KT walked past each classroom. She was assailed by the sounds of snap, snap, snap, snap from the louvres of each window as she walked along the corridor. There was no one to be seen - just that serial clattering of snaps. KT kept calm and when she got into the Teachers Common Room, she broke down in helpless tears. How cruel, these snaps of bigotry and terrorising from such young souls! All said and done, the Principal tried to assuage KT's anger and explained to her why these Chinese stream students did what they did, blah, blah, blah and all they had to do was to make a curt apology to the 'sen, sen'.</p><p>KT and I knew if the situation had been reversed and the English stream students did that to the Mandarin Language teacher, they would face the full wrath of punishment and discipline from the Nanyangian top hierarchy of Jurong Secondary School.</p><p>KT, I salute your bravery and your professionalism. I remembered you saying, "They are just kids, Maz. Some adults put them up to it." </p><p>Your graciousness is so inspiring.</p><p>I shall never forget you dear friend. Have a peaceful journey and may flights of angels wing you on your way.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dTU0gjQ4ZwQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="dTU0gjQ4ZwQ"></iframe></div><br /><p><b> "Just Like Yesterday" by James Griffin (of Bread)</b></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-82383244796539066962021-08-24T02:20:00.003+01:002021-08-24T02:32:06.628+01:00Irony <p>Post-election times are always confusing. But this post-GE 14 era has been especially chaotic. It's had more than its fair share of drama, deceit, intrigue, opportunism, spite, self-delusion, conspiracy, malfeasance, and egregious egotism. Enough nouns, I think, to explain why this country had to have three Prime Ministers in the span of three years!</p><p>When we write the history of Malaysia during this period, the main reference point will not be the short premiership of PM so-and-so - compared to other so-and-sos who achieved 5 years, 10 years or 22 years. It will be why were there three PMs in three years?</p><p>Just how did we get this many and this far?</p><p>The transition from 7th to 8th PM was initiated by the resignation of the 7th PM. But the shift from 8th to 9th is a different cup of tea entirely. It's a real Shakespearean tragi-comedy. Just consider the facts. The 8th PM's term of office was utterly unique. And it was utterly unique for two reasons above all. Firstly, its entire span coincided with the worst pandemic, the worst health emergency, that this country has ever seen (indeed, it's been one of the worst in global history). Secondly, while the administration (including the Civil Service) were working flat out to uphold the balance between Life and Livelihood ( perhaps the 7th PM could have done better?) - the entire Parliamentary Opposition and their enthralled promoters were looking in the opposite direction. They were set almost completely on shuffling the chairs - on "regime change". Why? Because No 8 had upset their apple cart by moving into the slot left wide open by the departure of No. 7. </p><p>So the campaign for the "Return of the Rakyat's Mandate" was set in motion. What followed was a time-wasting parade of tantalising manoeuvres and slick silly slogans like "we have the numbers", and self-righteous grumbles that the Emergency was only there to keep a desperate teetering backdoor government in power (with the connivance, of course, of YDP Agong - according to the closet and card-carrying Malaysian Republicans). Then came the "Failed Government" or <i>Kerajaan Gagal </i>offensive, inspired by the stigma of "Failed State"thrown at Malaysia by Bloomberg's favourite Ozzie Daniel Moss, and (not to be outdone) Al Jazeera's characterisation of Malaysia's Covid 19 performance as a "Mini India". </p><p>In the midst of all this came the Indian (or "Delta") Variant. Don't talk about India - even the most "democratic" and most "highly developed" western nations could not keep the Indian Delta Variant at bay. </p><p>The long-suffering Rakyat watched this Punch and Judy Show going on and wondered "is this democracy"? The numbers afflicted and dying and dead because of Covd 19 kept on rising. So while the Rakyat 'burned', the Neros in our political circus 'fiddled' with personal ambition and dubious numbers. Once again, the nation was on the brink of disaster due to the working wonders of democracy. </p><p>But then suddenly there was light<i>. </i>The 8th PM, acting according to the Constitution, submitted his resignation. So did the entire Cabinet. At last - and for the only time in this mess of silly shenanigans - I could feel proud of my country, proud that we had the political confidence and principles to act like a proper Parliamentary democracy. And remember, children, when you read your history books: this is the nation condemned by liberals (local, imported and international) as being dominated by extremist, racist Muslim Malays. What say Daniel Moss/Bloomberg and Al Jazeera?</p><p><i>Teras terunjam, gubal melayang - </i>the core of the tree is fixed deep in the ground, but the sapwood is blown away. </p><p>On Friday last week the Rakyat waited with bated breath for the new 9th PM of Malaysia. What was new??</p><p><i>Kera lotong terlalu makan, tupai di julai timpa perasan. </i>When the monkeys eat too much, the squirrels on the lower branches have to suffer for it - Covid 19 or no Covid 19.</p><p> ========================</p><p>But oh! The irony, the irony of it all! For the moment, the circus is over. And what did it achieve?</p><p>1. It resulted in the return of UMNO which the unholy allianceof Mahathir, Anwar/Keadilan and DAP fought tooth and nail to overthrow in May 2018. Indeed they succeeded. They had a "good run" and they savoured the sweetness of power. But then they botched it in February 2020. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdxnklrPgaOn_rUHmPut6t2CVumduevAysbFjzOE7rrf4eA1YRh_ePpsOEIW-MpBGY8tTJpKUY93ZJKsvVlHBQRBkkM7iuVTwr7EYQOBI2Ue0TxiOq3Tgp2aTi5ASbooF2ClfqIDZhAJ9P/s553/SW+22+a.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="553" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdxnklrPgaOn_rUHmPut6t2CVumduevAysbFjzOE7rrf4eA1YRh_ePpsOEIW-MpBGY8tTJpKUY93ZJKsvVlHBQRBkkM7iuVTwr7EYQOBI2Ue0TxiOq3Tgp2aTi5ASbooF2ClfqIDZhAJ9P/w640-h356/SW+22+a.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Members of Pakatan Harapan Cabinet , 2018 - 2020</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>They tried it again in August 2021. When the 8th PM offered an olive branch of a unity government and reforms (the ones they'd demanded) it was rejected outright because they could smell the blood of victory wafting into their camp. This was to be Anwar's/ Keadilan's and DAP's coup de grace.</p><p>But beware of what you wish for!!!!!</p><p>2. The Republicans now look to the Monarchy in the hope that the latter can be used to fit their agenda. The liberals in Keadilan, DAP, Amanah and Pejuang - and other Pakatan Harapan's comrades in East Malaysia, as well as those outside the fold of the political parties - were not sweet on the Monarchy. They would like to have it shackled or abolished altogether.</p><p>So I was quite bemused when I read this. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDzb1nx3KDkEsut-ka918x1SnOYR_JsJxi88LxbFWJpR0OIpSAooQYmwEQMKiBIP9RqwdHkWD7Jp_wsESTI8Q1I-vonFSnXJb5gF01QK28QScqOmPbGoOOrykdXVulNM10E_-Yvwwb-PX4/s952/Combi+Republic.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="952" data-original-width="849" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDzb1nx3KDkEsut-ka918x1SnOYR_JsJxi88LxbFWJpR0OIpSAooQYmwEQMKiBIP9RqwdHkWD7Jp_wsESTI8Q1I-vonFSnXJb5gF01QK28QScqOmPbGoOOrykdXVulNM10E_-Yvwwb-PX4/w570-h640/Combi+Republic.jpg" width="570" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><b>"When you break the rules this time ....... others can break the rules too ... ".</b></p><p>Politicians in Malaysia are veterans of the art of "sauce for the goose is not for the gander" - of hypocrisy and self-righteousness.</p><p>Do as I say, don't do as I do.</p><p> ========================</p><p><br /></p><p>More so when I looked at the comment by Kadir Jasin. Oh, how they give themselves away, that bevy of self-regarding acolytes that cling to the coat-tails of each and every political leader/party. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sbAClSzInCI1Jm-iRLqaOaoTY72ijk4OBRzd66lBd0PMguLkMqo23ZSe_5CFLoMJ8he7AJIil5fiYJi2C4ncj-_RNq21eb19P6KgLlvpQNeFegKAGgY5_1PhHEUiZWGJbcTKm8iBSQTq/s779/Kadir+3.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="689" data-original-width="779" height="354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sbAClSzInCI1Jm-iRLqaOaoTY72ijk4OBRzd66lBd0PMguLkMqo23ZSe_5CFLoMJ8he7AJIil5fiYJi2C4ncj-_RNq21eb19P6KgLlvpQNeFegKAGgY5_1PhHEUiZWGJbcTKm8iBSQTq/w400-h354/Kadir+3.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Betrayal, like Beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Remember this?</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj91-k_prOU_rcyMMxv7xGayq80HwOd9EvHq16SPojyVrZYvNIXYca6KxB0ZMzxKAaAy_t7vKwR3vVZCWs5bTaIf21fxo2WZScXquxgOXsIJzchSGKeHSDVu6dYIXMGHxuxo8QfBbTBgRHY/s400/SW+21+a.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="400" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj91-k_prOU_rcyMMxv7xGayq80HwOd9EvHq16SPojyVrZYvNIXYca6KxB0ZMzxKAaAy_t7vKwR3vVZCWs5bTaIf21fxo2WZScXquxgOXsIJzchSGKeHSDVu6dYIXMGHxuxo8QfBbTBgRHY/w640-h512/SW+21+a.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Betrayal is a two-edged sword. You betray others as well as yourself.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Furthermore, do we, can we - looking at the gross inequality, injustice and inconsistencies around us, here in Malaysia or everywhere else - believe that people reap what they sow?</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD-wGMy83PKGaglLLczSc_rFmcq2HLsmZ1hQQSfdHb49T6swRgGsBN6nXIZwt7DpriBE-6celNOtRorBMraA2mf7u37oJxF5ThUqnkZ877w8Ij2D8WEtZJ1Tmg1eK5_8N2jzEPMpvMUkHn/s781/Kadir+2.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="368" data-original-width="781" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD-wGMy83PKGaglLLczSc_rFmcq2HLsmZ1hQQSfdHb49T6swRgGsBN6nXIZwt7DpriBE-6celNOtRorBMraA2mf7u37oJxF5ThUqnkZ877w8Ij2D8WEtZJ1Tmg1eK5_8N2jzEPMpvMUkHn/w640-h302/Kadir+2.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>As well as the "hungry wolves" , we have to be aware of the "wolf in sheep's clothing", the opportunists and the hypocrites. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>As for the reapers and sowers I believe Pakatan Harapan and their allies take the cake when the post of Premiership and a glorious comeback evaded them once again. Failed Opposition! Pembangkang Gagal!</p><p> ============================</p><p> </p><p>Iznogoud (created by Goscinny and Tabary) is one of my very favourite comic-book characters. He has an indefatigable spirit in pursuing his lifelong ambition to be "Caliph instead of the Caliph".</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinsvORqgiItGU8bjPZDwTUurIZUGgby6hdK56et-YRVUET5sj8eqoQ1k2CzUgC2CkPnsVKbwdtj0-bbnjqhIF5jNQr75zPV_YFm4czV897RqEa3UQgAynaa9f_E6lIvxo4t8fOcPromKU4/s2048/20210823_192214.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinsvORqgiItGU8bjPZDwTUurIZUGgby6hdK56et-YRVUET5sj8eqoQ1k2CzUgC2CkPnsVKbwdtj0-bbnjqhIF5jNQr75zPV_YFm4czV897RqEa3UQgAynaa9f_E6lIvxo4t8fOcPromKU4/w500-h640/20210823_192214.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><br /><p>Malaysia has more than its share of "Iznogouds". Think of the shenanigans over the past few years. Now think of the latest grumbling from the East Malaysian state of Sabah.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC3cRzezmyddKxQqc6DQQjqYuTBCB2BkSU6vBe_XH_UwJly7Yui889p1EYsTVjG0-1_JGahmtE-d503YvGzSJWjSOtAcdxCZwgu9yGKGwK6YHiEd22QzQ5NsrYgCd2tg4481Jr7KrH8wU4/s896/Shafie+1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="693" data-original-width="896" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC3cRzezmyddKxQqc6DQQjqYuTBCB2BkSU6vBe_XH_UwJly7Yui889p1EYsTVjG0-1_JGahmtE-d503YvGzSJWjSOtAcdxCZwgu9yGKGwK6YHiEd22QzQ5NsrYgCd2tg4481Jr7KrH8wU4/w640-h496/Shafie+1.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Which reminds me of the occasion of the launching of The Vibes on 20 September 2020 at Kota Kinabalu when their Sponsor expressed that lofty sentiment that "Malaya [<span style="color: #2b00fe;"> so glad to be called by our own name instead of that nondescript West Malaysia, Peninsular Malaysia </span>] has an infection and Sabah and Sarawak has the antibiotic we desperately need. ..... The thing about Sabah is that it's not judgemental." </p><p>Oh, the irony, the irony!</p><p>By the way the global Medical Establishment have been warning us about antibiotic resistance - it fails to work if we overuse it.</p><p>Oh the irony, the irony!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Bx_HFaKWakY" width="320" youtube-src-id="Bx_HFaKWakY"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Yk9CXWytnHE" width="320" youtube-src-id="Yk9CXWytnHE"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-43107217501276336802021-08-19T03:45:00.009+01:002021-08-19T09:21:46.417+01:00A Little Lockdown Levity <p> The old and short-lived government resigned <i>en masse.</i></p><p><b>Long Live the New Government !!</b></p><p>Here is an illustration of the battle for democracy and MPs (to hell with the Rakyat and Covid-19) - a sort of 21st Century Malaysian Parliamentary Olympics.</p><p>ENJOY! Let's cheer them on.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qgSzGIkFq2A" width="320" youtube-src-id="qgSzGIkFq2A"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>And how will this Government be chosen?</p><p>By Statutory Declarations.</p><p>Aaah I have another Guide for Seduced Statutory Declarants - thanks to Monty Python again.</p><p>Let's cheer them on too. But - du ..u .. u ..hhhh??</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/wjhpo0Frxig" width="320" youtube-src-id="wjhpo0Frxig"></iframe></div><br /><p>Thank Goodness for Monty Python.</p><p>I shall just be a sweet lil ole lady today and every day and ..... and 🙈🙉🙊</p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Sungguh gemilang negri ku</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Yang ku chinta oh Tanah M ............</b></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-55438803580477355242021-08-16T10:17:00.014+01:002021-08-17T00:17:49.143+01:00Malaysia (Malaya) - Tanah tumpah darah ku.<p>64 years ago on August 31 1957, in our kampung house at Pasir Panjang Road Singapore, we were listening to the radio. When the Union Jack was lowered and the flag of Persekutuan Tanah Melayu was raised, I saw the pride and glow on my Abah's face which said, "At last my country is free". But then the tears began to flow - they were not tears of joy because he said very sombrely, "What will happen to my people?"</p><p>Abah, today at 3 pm. 16 August 2021, your daughter cried as she listened to Prime Minister Muhyiddin tendering his resignation.</p><p>They were not tears at the demise of a mainly Malay-led Government that had to attend to a pandemic (a trauma that this country has never seen before) but they were bringing us close to the light at the end of a dark, dark tunnel. </p><p>My tears are like yours in 1957. What will happen to my people, and not just Malays?</p><p>We spiked the Malayan Union, we recovered from the Japanese Occupation, we beat the Malayan Communist Party insurrection, we learned and re-booted ourself after May 13. But we were beaten by greed, envy, lust for power, pride and <i>bodoh-sombong </i>of our fellow Malays. For me the one courageous voice of sanity came from Tony Pua. I may not agree with his politics but he has the spirit and the honesty to be able to reconcile his political affiliations, which are in opposition to the Government, with the needs and priorities of his country.</p><p>As for the other voices of Malay leadership, their silence is loud and clear. They wait and see which way the wind blows. They smell blood and they want to swoop in on the kill - and tear it and everything else to shreds. To hell with the Rakyat and the <i>Tanah Pusaka, </i>they say. To hell with what we've achieved in the past. To hell with what we could achieve in the future.</p><p>Here's a simple story with a moral message from my old Malay school textbook.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGHfPE983NTAAh6f8kyOv20XN4-q3XxfXtCJi9VER4XSIX8dzqn8BtMdr-E-3NGZc-enoSjJUF3vzGfqMqFFDZfaOBvib7d7-14T_RCAuQI_-a3xABh_xEUXrpjn-WNYSmGqBsdj7iIg5r/s2048/Baja+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1568" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGHfPE983NTAAh6f8kyOv20XN4-q3XxfXtCJi9VER4XSIX8dzqn8BtMdr-E-3NGZc-enoSjJUF3vzGfqMqFFDZfaOBvib7d7-14T_RCAuQI_-a3xABh_xEUXrpjn-WNYSmGqBsdj7iIg5r/w490-h640/Baja+2.jpg" width="490" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>"Engkau ini sama jahat," kata emak-nya.</b></span></p><p><b>But the Malays I fear do not have an <i>emak </i>and <i>abah to guide and discipline them. </i></b></p><p><b>We are now <i>Anak Yatim</i> despite our modern and religious education, despite our economic progress - or, perhaps, exactly <i>because of our economic progress, because we fell prey to the wolf of greed, because we lost sight of morality.</i></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">"Lekas makan, tanggalkan baju itu. "</span> I doubt that our Malay leaders and leadership will dare to do that. Their hands are so filthy, like Lady Macbeth's hands ; and nothing will ever wipe it clean.</b></p><p><b>Abah, this is what we Malays look like today. </b></p><p><b> </b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvASGLhsV4QjLsWjMHNvfMxQUwj8avdJUDc6MAFnUlujhEUgCYYMGn0IIaZeOc7qAwWC9rgetdfs7FDEhWrhcOboTCcpw2quVTAwl2zTmtr4QZ8Tx_q06jspfFSbJDUYbPTYgRbn_I0ZUe/s2328/Skulls+6.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="294" data-original-width="2328" height="80" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvASGLhsV4QjLsWjMHNvfMxQUwj8avdJUDc6MAFnUlujhEUgCYYMGn0IIaZeOc7qAwWC9rgetdfs7FDEhWrhcOboTCcpw2quVTAwl2zTmtr4QZ8Tx_q06jspfFSbJDUYbPTYgRbn_I0ZUe/w640-h80/Skulls+6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2tGPlFSeZZhzkvRLyCTzyT_5NAk2lNVU4z3_FWFXUQ56hLDqaHyZqwHs4yGpeqxJKIt6eJa7Shm0fGyhAZgGr4kWXDJ7xyofj7iSTjUvhAcB6YkXHYq3sxHbcAy0Dcas5MUwHSCuiB1Ub/s2328/Skulls+6.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="294" data-original-width="2328" height="80" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2tGPlFSeZZhzkvRLyCTzyT_5NAk2lNVU4z3_FWFXUQ56hLDqaHyZqwHs4yGpeqxJKIt6eJa7Shm0fGyhAZgGr4kWXDJ7xyofj7iSTjUvhAcB6YkXHYq3sxHbcAy0Dcas5MUwHSCuiB1Ub/w640-h80/Skulls+6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>All the King's horses and all the King's men will not put the Humpty Dumpty Malays together again .......... perhaps only after the worms have had enough of them.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Our tears are futile.</b></span></p><p><b><br /></b></p>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-14834408298869767612021-08-14T08:21:00.010+01:002021-08-14T09:09:40.890+01:00Incensed<p> Found this new (for me) word when I was reading the news from UK this morning.</p><p><a href="https://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/index.html">https://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/index.html</a></p><p>The headlines read:</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6d5Tmr8yJBkghZnRnhx3DUk_3N2f7IgoSp86Xk85cK7RpsE1eFbkK3A0OLL4KcC7dkqNQm3EjgNBuhXjFJGBxLUvdnX0-UmDHhdcB4LmWzcgqqwcMHfOwnW6sk0PzlUSC5KjdMANPF9Tv/s1021/Incel+2.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="198" data-original-width="1021" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6d5Tmr8yJBkghZnRnhx3DUk_3N2f7IgoSp86Xk85cK7RpsE1eFbkK3A0OLL4KcC7dkqNQm3EjgNBuhXjFJGBxLUvdnX0-UmDHhdcB4LmWzcgqqwcMHfOwnW6sk0PzlUSC5KjdMANPF9Tv/w640-h125/Incel+2.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Headline from the Daily Mail.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOnEoNmDcQyWDTHPamHOY-FJ2DO1A1lqCW4lAQkZHAbv0qUn-JZwoNEjaYG5XRNmFZu3nXcCXZ8AyluosjptdcYJlXqXMHDT11FHV5lucbuROhI6Mx_DIlo10VztU_yBjHGG_IkQ-98vc4/s907/Incel+3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="90" data-original-width="907" height="64" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOnEoNmDcQyWDTHPamHOY-FJ2DO1A1lqCW4lAQkZHAbv0qUn-JZwoNEjaYG5XRNmFZu3nXcCXZ8AyluosjptdcYJlXqXMHDT11FHV5lucbuROhI6Mx_DIlo10VztU_yBjHGG_IkQ-98vc4/w640-h64/Incel+3.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><a href="https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2021/aug/13/plymouth-shootings-may-be-a-sign-the-incel-culture-is-spreading">https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2021/aug/13/plymouth-shootings-may-be-a-sign-the-incel-culture-is-spreading</a><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>INCEL. That's the new word. This septuagenarian has been bombarded by so many new fangled words, acronyms and terminologies from techno-language, from msg (not mono-sodium glutamate) lingo and even smiley speech, so this one is just another stopover on my learning curve.</p><p>So off I went to the Internet because it would be futile to search in my reliable 1960 OED dictionary unless I have the January 2021 edition!</p><p>INCEL. It means ....</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvFxsozTp2N9E8q4V3F5E3pfJQ4YvbRS_48ZK4E6FUSOsIY8oVAbAQn86yLaMB4yCDNrxXj1jy-s1YsHrrHSxUZjFeZ8OiujL5CiNxv5lipbTBSfTUBbJA-AXAjcLT8rSmHNRij0JGD5fZ/s883/Incel+5.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="678" data-original-width="883" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvFxsozTp2N9E8q4V3F5E3pfJQ4YvbRS_48ZK4E6FUSOsIY8oVAbAQn86yLaMB4yCDNrxXj1jy-s1YsHrrHSxUZjFeZ8OiujL5CiNxv5lipbTBSfTUBbJA-AXAjcLT8rSmHNRij0JGD5fZ/w640-h492/Incel+5.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>From Merriam-Webster</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjURx2fJeOxyEHJbivY0WhfUJhzdArC0TlQxWRz3xLYjisSlDMmx_WB9sDbErmgEVJgK9-tjgB7aZuRyJGvcSeo1UtI-PKqQpIlaoDBOf44bXqc2fWtZFzBzOnG4mcNJcSEOTkMUdHqbijP/s908/Incel+6.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="553" data-original-width="908" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjURx2fJeOxyEHJbivY0WhfUJhzdArC0TlQxWRz3xLYjisSlDMmx_WB9sDbErmgEVJgK9-tjgB7aZuRyJGvcSeo1UtI-PKqQpIlaoDBOf44bXqc2fWtZFzBzOnG4mcNJcSEOTkMUdHqbijP/w640-h390/Incel+6.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>From the Cambridge Dictionary</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Well, it has to do with that crotchety obsession of the the 21st century - Sex!! And it has its very own cultural connotations like the word woke.</p><p>Now, what would my lovely Macik Ayik ask me if she was still here today. </p><p><b><i>Sex tu apa 'nak?</i></b></p><p><b>[ In the late 1950s my Emak would despatch me to Macik Ayik and Pacik Mat's house in Kampung Bukit Panjang for the December school holidays. They had no children and I loved being with them because Macik Ayik especially, pampered me no end. On December 25 1956, I was sitting on the <i>amben </i>and chatting with Macik Ayik and I said to her .</b></p><p><b>"Macik, hari 'ni Hari Christmas"</b></p><p><b>She gave me an indulgent smile and asked. "Christmas tu apa 'nak?" ]</b></p><p>'Nuff said.</p><p>Looking at the political culture that has been breeding in my <i>Tanah Air, (</i>especially during the pandemic) and the the bog-standard quality of our political leaders and leadership ......</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLyk7GVfM31HAj1uGgKRrxJm3AOliUhbRzojzXb8o7RhOM5GR4m_PpSjkOXzAIHiKg9T-lr-ChFl9q30DtEIumbD7wv4bJf8XMvMH3Fek0NtVVgXOM_ksOHiE32xIdJoJQ5UmAeZ8Wa9xY/s379/Combi+1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="193" data-original-width="379" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLyk7GVfM31HAj1uGgKRrxJm3AOliUhbRzojzXb8o7RhOM5GR4m_PpSjkOXzAIHiKg9T-lr-ChFl9q30DtEIumbD7wv4bJf8XMvMH3Fek0NtVVgXOM_ksOHiE32xIdJoJQ5UmAeZ8Wa9xY/w400-h204/Combi+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEqKarNXTg5rMxxGT-XaXfxMYY38teCh39xaOg0Vs7NwlHqrx6TJrwk8qpIN-8RJe2VLezoq5Tvzb-p9zJ3EEdR5TWc-1RT1EUNki3tqSns2X9RD4myyDPHmmWNf2ZqLRiqCilPiwJOG-y/s380/Combi+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="191" data-original-width="380" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEqKarNXTg5rMxxGT-XaXfxMYY38teCh39xaOg0Vs7NwlHqrx6TJrwk8qpIN-8RJe2VLezoq5Tvzb-p9zJ3EEdR5TWc-1RT1EUNki3tqSns2X9RD4myyDPHmmWNf2ZqLRiqCilPiwJOG-y/w400-h201/Combi+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5aVn0FbL4x2yfJLKC1YcIX7PPji145OBRP1S07B450y3qrch4AqlmrhgT9whRJkHLeGOVsq_Q7wXANmLgOZYZqes2dtJEM-NjPsFZvQDZUKYadB0wWgSeytzkAB_omDYRbqSM2L9-_hb/s384/Combi+3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="384" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5aVn0FbL4x2yfJLKC1YcIX7PPji145OBRP1S07B450y3qrch4AqlmrhgT9whRJkHLeGOVsq_Q7wXANmLgOZYZqes2dtJEM-NjPsFZvQDZUKYadB0wWgSeytzkAB_omDYRbqSM2L9-_hb/w400-h203/Combi+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><p>....... and the cretinous reputation of our MPs in our revered Parliament recently ......</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5b_gbY56VIi-0ndlahDnqm3KtuICKcLBiY-LE7ZFbcTnX65a9vNOEeQ0PmjQjDy0eWRTuW01ryaUVK1Xr8Vo7Clj0by_y8Lqht_bK6Re5BpA2eG2jmnk4iqMO5AzSRFVkHJyHIVsjBPfi/s1010/SW+4.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="541" data-original-width="1010" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5b_gbY56VIi-0ndlahDnqm3KtuICKcLBiY-LE7ZFbcTnX65a9vNOEeQ0PmjQjDy0eWRTuW01ryaUVK1Xr8Vo7Clj0by_y8Lqht_bK6Re5BpA2eG2jmnk4iqMO5AzSRFVkHJyHIVsjBPfi/w640-h342/SW+4.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>...... this news today is to be expected.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ndoLTfGV_wn-qrwU2KTC3cCr7QazsqoteQDorlnXp_OAmh6vC9E54aUz7oBbiw8A7Lyp6M69xklU2j4DxuTKGdtz5UWqu651JhlxBB41a-ZKdbee8Vo4WlMI6Hy6F8WT_XyK7uS26z6p/s833/Incel+4.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="545" data-original-width="833" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ndoLTfGV_wn-qrwU2KTC3cCr7QazsqoteQDorlnXp_OAmh6vC9E54aUz7oBbiw8A7Lyp6M69xklU2j4DxuTKGdtz5UWqu651JhlxBB41a-ZKdbee8Vo4WlMI6Hy6F8WT_XyK7uS26z6p/w640-h418/Incel+4.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Today's headlines.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I reckon there are some or maybe all parts of our politicians that cannot be reached - it's like sloshing in a bottomless pit of the seven deadly sins: of pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth!</p><p>Maybe it is time for this septuagenarian to contribute another word close enough to INCEL relevant to our particular political culture.</p><p>I do fancy this word - INPOLIMP - which refers to those who are are stricken with the <b><u>In</u>voluntary <u>Pol</u>itically <u>Imp</u>otent</b> virus - a neurotic obsession about political impotence.</p><p>I shall borrow the Merriam-Webster template to define INPOLIMP which includes :</p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">(a) ...... extreme resentment and hostility towards those who are sexually </span>(politically) <span style="color: #2b00fe;">active.</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">(b) ....lack of sexual </span>(political) <span style="color: #2b00fe;">power - many of them placing the blame on women </span>( the incumbent government)<span style="color: #2b00fe;">.</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">(c) ...... who express rage at women </span>(the ruling and other political parties) <span style="color: #2b00fe;">for denying them sex </span>(perks to plunder plus the Premiership) <span style="color: #2b00fe;">and who frequently fantasize about violence </span>(statutory declarations) <span style="color: #2b00fe;">and celebrate mass shooters </span>( votes of no confidence and party-hopping)<span style="color: #2b00fe;">.</span></p><p><br /></p><p>INPOLIMP brings with it a waft of self-righteousness and victimhood disguised as a fragrant incense supposedly to give power and consent back to the Rakyat.</p><p>But why is AsH so incensed? Aren't you??</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YsyXkadxiPo" width="320" youtube-src-id="YsyXkadxiPo"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><b> </b></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-85741413063428588312021-08-08T07:20:00.007+01:002021-08-13T08:33:29.518+01:00Malaysia's Parliament - Our very own Bunkum and Blarney (apologies to Barnum and Bailey) Circus ......<p> ...... but to compare the antics of the MPs to the professional, competent, intelligent and skilful acrobats, jugglers, fire-eaters, weightlifters and clowns is an insult to them and the Circus industry. This I write on the premise that animals are banned from performing at all Circuses ....</p><p>...... which reminds me of one my favourite songs from the 70s. It was my late brother Akim who blasted this song every Sunday morning on his super-duper hifi set and his staid school-mistress <i>Kakak</i> just fell for it.</p><p>Years and years after his passing I looked for the song on YouTube. The video was just stunning. So I shall use this video to illustrate my frustrations, anger and my sense of hopelessness and helplessness at the state of my Tanah Air.</p><p>Keep a lookout for the greedy toff, the clown struggling with the plastic chicken (he is actually a professional clown) and the raunchy-looking lass.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/OMAIsqvTh7g" width="320" youtube-src-id="OMAIsqvTh7g"></iframe></div><br /><p>"Stuck in the middle with you" by the group Stealers Wheel was written by Gerry Rafferty, my favourite 1970s singer-songwriter and Scotsman. Ssshh, don't mention this to my official Scotsman-spouse.</p><p><br /></p><p> ======================================</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">STUCK IN THE MIDDLE WITH YOU - </span><span style="font-size: medium;">Stealers Wheel</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: large;">Here are the lyrics (in blue), with a sprinkling of various pertinent images. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Well I don't know why I came here tonight</span>.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPqL4e2VGH2cIck62JN2qcEUFETYzagUyKbZtZHyJwhLkd30VDPyJRRVGYrvi2Ay7Tww1Se-QPIDpbfZt0ocRDSF1zUSPbSs8od07TSXGTLvAPkJAzFtafwKIEPVp8aunhGsuj_SX1MArP/s997/1.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="561" data-original-width="997" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPqL4e2VGH2cIck62JN2qcEUFETYzagUyKbZtZHyJwhLkd30VDPyJRRVGYrvi2Ay7Tww1Se-QPIDpbfZt0ocRDSF1zUSPbSs8od07TSXGTLvAPkJAzFtafwKIEPVp8aunhGsuj_SX1MArP/s320/1.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Showdown at the OK Corral</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">I've got the feeling that something ain't right.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh69iFkWLGy2AS-L29fgNYtaHUbCRSeIS3FUFGzDVueJjtop93Vd1yPfm8PZqpF4uOu0hXPQS-EzMQf88dHwOTdfLxFFD1pHMMZhWfAsggoJ6AL_flRSt-iTUfTESg5OoBEnDRsYNKuier8/s339/2.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="339" data-original-width="330" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh69iFkWLGy2AS-L29fgNYtaHUbCRSeIS3FUFGzDVueJjtop93Vd1yPfm8PZqpF4uOu0hXPQS-EzMQf88dHwOTdfLxFFD1pHMMZhWfAsggoJ6AL_flRSt-iTUfTESg5OoBEnDRsYNKuier8/s320/2.png" width="312" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Grand Solution and Solvers??</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-IGrbzSC65ACEHYa4ie8x5xwkXmx3jiOskZ2MeKuu8xQnjrDg1JwuZHY0OQpm_dXH2iaupxWw8Kz674wHeIcHlBo_KgDGeqdgtiXSgfm80znBDpQYno3l-yE2MZ-cunAu3NOQF0VOV0iD/s408/3.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="328" data-original-width="408" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-IGrbzSC65ACEHYa4ie8x5xwkXmx3jiOskZ2MeKuu8xQnjrDg1JwuZHY0OQpm_dXH2iaupxWw8Kz674wHeIcHlBo_KgDGeqdgtiXSgfm80znBDpQYno3l-yE2MZ-cunAu3NOQF0VOV0iD/s320/3.PNG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Pioneers of Selamkan Malaysia</b></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">And I'm wondering how I'll get down the stairs.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Clowns to the left of me!</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQez6mtWIRHiE8604rvsTzmrvufc319kUH2Hi5s4wSlA87lXY02wxma3RRbmrfSEy6gf8MhkAzpUM972nwaKgnP7Y-IKOsaWUY2jybkMUXogF_FVUZFpams2Q6UMTjLebz_ossUbq1RzQn/s1030/4.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="701" data-original-width="1030" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQez6mtWIRHiE8604rvsTzmrvufc319kUH2Hi5s4wSlA87lXY02wxma3RRbmrfSEy6gf8MhkAzpUM972nwaKgnP7Y-IKOsaWUY2jybkMUXogF_FVUZFpams2Q6UMTjLebz_ossUbq1RzQn/s320/4.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Malaysia's Future.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Jokers to the right!</span></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2AbR-jtdZp8gI7x0LQ8Y0gSOwsLOpW57cfdjle6fGRs6vy9j5a36ZkkN1NhxmIeE0yrrUatoPKJhC6t53cWcswVC92Uinu-ACAHR0Gk1N1vbCOGZi972aFy8rqNG_LEeT86xt_rMcQ8_9/s673/5.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="673" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2AbR-jtdZp8gI7x0LQ8Y0gSOwsLOpW57cfdjle6fGRs6vy9j5a36ZkkN1NhxmIeE0yrrUatoPKJhC6t53cWcswVC92Uinu-ACAHR0Gk1N1vbCOGZi972aFy8rqNG_LEeT86xt_rMcQ8_9/w400-h194/5.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Harapan Bangsa!</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Here I am stuck in the middle with you.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggaNoZIC0BjcskG8Y4AEIMfYLIYJox_rrw5YsiuzNgXIacCW1c90kJ8X5xiqGKobpUVta2rXzM5H0Oyn-5aijt8qn-bHa6kFIPBGZs4AUEcyqSyKGISA0CcsA4Ozp6sV1PRiwyYo0MR5jX/s923/6.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="711" data-original-width="923" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggaNoZIC0BjcskG8Y4AEIMfYLIYJox_rrw5YsiuzNgXIacCW1c90kJ8X5xiqGKobpUVta2rXzM5H0Oyn-5aijt8qn-bHa6kFIPBGZs4AUEcyqSyKGISA0CcsA4Ozp6sV1PRiwyYo0MR5jX/w400-h309/6.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Keluhan Bangsa</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you.</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">And I'm wondering what it is I should do</span>.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-_CSctj4cIq0HL5hiasoWumKw4TSz-WWjhef7ajCnmFWQvEhPs6HkSBj8HcWdqY0cUOrYx8fglxYPRXmPZGVOz3uP99n25bit0V00G3ySAK1QrXNCrCyrSTtDwbwRTfk7uTnjQ8wTwnFk/s1018/7.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="1018" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-_CSctj4cIq0HL5hiasoWumKw4TSz-WWjhef7ajCnmFWQvEhPs6HkSBj8HcWdqY0cUOrYx8fglxYPRXmPZGVOz3uP99n25bit0V00G3ySAK1QrXNCrCyrSTtDwbwRTfk7uTnjQ8wTwnFk/s320/7.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The House - of the Rising Sun. Check this song by The Animals.<br /><br /></b></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #2b00fe;">It's so hard to keep this smile from my face.</span><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYU-ewyOjwrTJ4J6REwFKjCrqulbjupppDyjamMTPYeXs6HyAppv0e_Iu_X3SI20qyCw_i_NZe5FeExKgkjZC9vZG-S2Wor23fTUXDW5BoSGQYdI_h-WNX-xi5XIhhXwSUmhCLUm0YZ0YP/s807/8.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="807" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYU-ewyOjwrTJ4J6REwFKjCrqulbjupppDyjamMTPYeXs6HyAppv0e_Iu_X3SI20qyCw_i_NZe5FeExKgkjZC9vZG-S2Wor23fTUXDW5BoSGQYdI_h-WNX-xi5XIhhXwSUmhCLUm0YZ0YP/s320/8.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>"For men may come and men may go / But I go on forever" - from Alfred Lord Tennyson "The Brook". AsH, stop being a nitwit! Tennyson was writing about a clean-flowing river!</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Losing control and running all over the place.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3UGhZlNSnZHk0XjSudFQoN-2vDSl5EGX44NFi9QzH1wrwqB_YxTfyx_yl2R3osz50AldxrA_AX1XMFa_I8YJGejkigqhW0SSjevqpZ0tADuIueB3Z3SQUG-5bFtil47hd6uMXjbk53mY/s815/9.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="671" data-original-width="815" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3UGhZlNSnZHk0XjSudFQoN-2vDSl5EGX44NFi9QzH1wrwqB_YxTfyx_yl2R3osz50AldxrA_AX1XMFa_I8YJGejkigqhW0SSjevqpZ0tADuIueB3Z3SQUG-5bFtil47hd6uMXjbk53mY/s320/9.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Great and Good Saviours of Malaysia. Do I see Osman, our road-sweeper somewhere in that line-up? </b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Clowns to the left of me!</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9dHj9nC-azbrl2Jdb5AtozegVG7nHnO8-uayBvF4H1CKebYtzAQo0cwaUgRljvtB7B_4TphhBqXHlzmU1j6DJ1mPsS3hneqOaiosK1Dvo_dZptD3Zv_u15pUeF1hMJn8ySChC-DNAG8o9/s634/10.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="634" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9dHj9nC-azbrl2Jdb5AtozegVG7nHnO8-uayBvF4H1CKebYtzAQo0cwaUgRljvtB7B_4TphhBqXHlzmU1j6DJ1mPsS3hneqOaiosK1Dvo_dZptD3Zv_u15pUeF1hMJn8ySChC-DNAG8o9/s320/10.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Playing up the numbers. With the aid of a state of the art abacus perhaps?</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Jokers to the right!</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr76m_mLuR_xVJSLqaYrRNoS-GdRmOqzaAddmZBtOPDzEOUn4p3_a41XFVfSErjBXCpeF3-88yOJaLrIO-OIfcVsZg213B0R-N0M0qxCb6BpgXzZ9orJUbLjyRhbo3_ZH3nq2NfCyPqeY6/s526/11.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="368" data-original-width="526" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr76m_mLuR_xVJSLqaYrRNoS-GdRmOqzaAddmZBtOPDzEOUn4p3_a41XFVfSErjBXCpeF3-88yOJaLrIO-OIfcVsZg213B0R-N0M0qxCb6BpgXzZ9orJUbLjyRhbo3_ZH3nq2NfCyPqeY6/s320/11.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>For the Malaysian Opposition, "I get by with a little help from my friends" - who are good at additional mathematics. Ash had to give up the Additional Mathematics Paper when she was in Form Five at Crescent Girls' School - I guess I was not as smart and as canny as the millenials. Note the FCs and FA attached to each Party, I didn't realise that MPs and their Parties are part of a Football Club/Association. I understand that footballers are very highly paid just for chasing and kicking one ball into a net! But then what do we post-war boomers know! But do check that song "Great Balls of Fire".</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Here I am stuck in the middle with you.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFsStog7lkEt32uS0VRsyOTIqUlbnNkRTsqTCtiFqsgphm1MAGXw_P3SDo0gJX7LC2wui8LyZsRuwJ7pcCit9iX4EoVNosTlf5yzgOIxjlsWtsoSUl66t1w2rxirTKMkPa7r63eo1j0Uwp/s362/12.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="255" data-original-width="362" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFsStog7lkEt32uS0VRsyOTIqUlbnNkRTsqTCtiFqsgphm1MAGXw_P3SDo0gJX7LC2wui8LyZsRuwJ7pcCit9iX4EoVNosTlf5yzgOIxjlsWtsoSUl66t1w2rxirTKMkPa7r63eo1j0Uwp/s320/12.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Those two earlier images (clowns and jokers) are examples of our social media thinkers: (a) their self-image (after Rodin's The Thinker); (b) the reality (after a picture on a T-shirt).</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">When you started off with nothing</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidulQLrSHjfh9W25qvap_nczd9kRtMSiJyd2qEsFWqduJEHU36sjAee0Swta64HDVDVoHKkZAdQASRXF7vzBu-KyQJjkWbh_2gwZ8zcQ8TTLMvP-KJ3QrksNB9eSOe6SA96m3rC6wkOxY2/s892/13.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="517" data-original-width="892" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidulQLrSHjfh9W25qvap_nczd9kRtMSiJyd2qEsFWqduJEHU36sjAee0Swta64HDVDVoHKkZAdQASRXF7vzBu-KyQJjkWbh_2gwZ8zcQ8TTLMvP-KJ3QrksNB9eSOe6SA96m3rC6wkOxY2/w400-h231/13.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Read the small print at the top of the image, that is a typical advice from lawyers . Look up Shirley Bassey's "I who have nothing".</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">And you're proud that you're a self-made man.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1r4XmiGkG5yDMwEP-xk0jmNZV16N_fsWTTEg7zqE6TB3tQ6VQ-XEUN_5T8tUkpkV2zWHU7WKJhRYX_piQTnp5Cvv7JgaDNOnSbzNXJs_9SVJuozoHU4IdV_KqFCpoRi4YYF_IglKia6oX/s858/14.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="676" data-original-width="858" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1r4XmiGkG5yDMwEP-xk0jmNZV16N_fsWTTEg7zqE6TB3tQ6VQ-XEUN_5T8tUkpkV2zWHU7WKJhRYX_piQTnp5Cvv7JgaDNOnSbzNXJs_9SVJuozoHU4IdV_KqFCpoRi4YYF_IglKia6oX/w320-h252/14.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Beware of self-made men. Also self-serving and self-regarding men AND women. By the way, Ash is aware of the tenets of PC-ism.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Oooooo-ooo-ooooooh</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">And your friends they all come crawling.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPiKh_ls8u7Aw6mCUE7bNPPZPNbJJ7l7D0SeqeLw2vsA0K89ZBraxiKfN7H3F6DaaH4iA-shrECdxrH90hiWs2dGQ-sXKztnpVbq8wUqK2VQAns9qAP6rnAUJdOyJP4bD4PhoyNAtLZZgY/s1098/15.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="1098" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPiKh_ls8u7Aw6mCUE7bNPPZPNbJJ7l7D0SeqeLw2vsA0K89ZBraxiKfN7H3F6DaaH4iA-shrECdxrH90hiWs2dGQ-sXKztnpVbq8wUqK2VQAns9qAP6rnAUJdOyJP4bD4PhoyNAtLZZgY/s320/15.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Aaah! Where would we be without our heroes and mentors and sifus and gurus?</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Slap you on the back and say</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEwR1vh6XTKAi1aRDcqdcxPxM5xrOS_StE72VaSXnV3q_Nqewq_23bpPYKiV0Qw1K9NfrFCf8a_ZJfGoBumv_Potuy_zRKwqMKNlxsTH-oNVpl9eV6MDh8cJ5_knzZOa6rJV8YZAMhoIY/s855/16.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="497" data-original-width="855" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEwR1vh6XTKAi1aRDcqdcxPxM5xrOS_StE72VaSXnV3q_Nqewq_23bpPYKiV0Qw1K9NfrFCf8a_ZJfGoBumv_Potuy_zRKwqMKNlxsTH-oNVpl9eV6MDh8cJ5_knzZOa6rJV8YZAMhoIY/w640-h372/16.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>What a kind and touching comment. I used to write quite a number of such testimonials for my former students. In fact we teachers had to do this for each and everyone of our school leavers in their School Leaving Certificates. I must have done hundreds. </b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Please ...</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Please ...</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Trying to make some sense of it all.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe93Xg5IqnjjmolzHYZd6M4GLKTSdGFGLRfJig4TPvcABU7-fzSBu8cr0hEEh1uEUvz1nGV3hqc11SkKHMub3tEteKVW4fdXecNwwdYTBgcQr9cznE_wNjTmSe2Q6VQmJijDS9hK8prAtz/s940/17.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="558" data-original-width="940" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe93Xg5IqnjjmolzHYZd6M4GLKTSdGFGLRfJig4TPvcABU7-fzSBu8cr0hEEh1uEUvz1nGV3hqc11SkKHMub3tEteKVW4fdXecNwwdYTBgcQr9cznE_wNjTmSe2Q6VQmJijDS9hK8prAtz/s320/17.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Who will give them a testimonial?</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">But I see it makes no sense at all</span></p><p>.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFzCXarqdUvEctNvLwbvVQDiR6bhSOnzSkhz_bv5-2UohkLbiObg63oZl9kIUhFThdSt2CGfyf0aY72MQaPOa2Sa2iFB-dnpBOYmsJD6UF0XYCgaPv8Bt-PJE4TJsblI1O6e2MmDTqF7A/s870/18.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="870" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFzCXarqdUvEctNvLwbvVQDiR6bhSOnzSkhz_bv5-2UohkLbiObg63oZl9kIUhFThdSt2CGfyf0aY72MQaPOa2Sa2iFB-dnpBOYmsJD6UF0XYCgaPv8Bt-PJE4TJsblI1O6e2MmDTqF7A/s320/18.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>......or maybe a Datin or Tan Sri? But titles cannot ease their exhaustion or compensate for the lost family-time. </b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Is it cool to go to sleep on the floor?</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY7Cq6tzvjP_O4lpYpJyi4I43rq6OzOc-GerwICsT_bGy0mgUIbsCHJKvZ-7D0wXjjOZ5329R5I-ORyb9iXxmm9yItKwYrFN9cSguA8qwU1LRrYo87gf_8-LhwK75aI0mIoLhINBxHvHMu/s343/19.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="289" data-original-width="343" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY7Cq6tzvjP_O4lpYpJyi4I43rq6OzOc-GerwICsT_bGy0mgUIbsCHJKvZ-7D0wXjjOZ5329R5I-ORyb9iXxmm9yItKwYrFN9cSguA8qwU1LRrYo87gf_8-LhwK75aI0mIoLhINBxHvHMu/w400-h338/19.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>These people (civil servants and other public servants like the police and Armed Forces) just eat and sleep. Such criticisms have been thrown at them during the last government - that their numbers should be drastically reduced. Thank you whoever you are (in that image above) for your dedication and steadfastness. You make a truly magnificent Bangsa Malaysia. People like you deserve a place in our History textbooks.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">I don't think that I can take anymore.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMv-FRPT261Px-x2aaHE_w6WXOE0Jz-1mLBGA769pOQRRQ8EgS0UobbChgwZKWwQno-RjQ3rDu6MFYX-_PYT7R8EB-VtAllldmban3ezBtcC4qC9eivt8hoKCe3jEYtvVMK2JJpoM8c_93/s373/20.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="298" data-original-width="373" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMv-FRPT261Px-x2aaHE_w6WXOE0Jz-1mLBGA769pOQRRQ8EgS0UobbChgwZKWwQno-RjQ3rDu6MFYX-_PYT7R8EB-VtAllldmban3ezBtcC4qC9eivt8hoKCe3jEYtvVMK2JJpoM8c_93/w400-h320/20.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>You have the nation's eternal gratitude. You are the nation's only inspiration and hope.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Clowns to the left of me!</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6g-wqmPK-xqyo_jGCXyt2rS_m905kPb-WqjZjrlgUER_JiQQXAoGlCA6HtZWSCpUgeilpiLNF7il5JhT6cHqWrH_DWQyNowe9n0JcHFEzme36CgLGDEYXnqGRiZVHAgL6iWCCOrhqKdhw/s849/21.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><img border="0" data-original-height="692" data-original-width="849" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6g-wqmPK-xqyo_jGCXyt2rS_m905kPb-WqjZjrlgUER_JiQQXAoGlCA6HtZWSCpUgeilpiLNF7il5JhT6cHqWrH_DWQyNowe9n0JcHFEzme36CgLGDEYXnqGRiZVHAgL6iWCCOrhqKdhw/s320/21.png" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Where are the good capitalists?</b></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Jokers to the right!</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBwopQqZ8Jq2NsvkSbSxC327zjiL9ZcLv7D4mhFvHADnQqRFHtLhEbjWousi7Mr28LrtaOxgGW9qAWO6gGfVsG2T4RndHox8WZ8vCl1J2U8zoksxvPnpZEzVcqx2uM-uhcdxbzonIYd8J/s800/22.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="690" data-original-width="800" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBwopQqZ8Jq2NsvkSbSxC327zjiL9ZcLv7D4mhFvHADnQqRFHtLhEbjWousi7Mr28LrtaOxgGW9qAWO6gGfVsG2T4RndHox8WZ8vCl1J2U8zoksxvPnpZEzVcqx2uM-uhcdxbzonIYd8J/s320/22.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>You seek them here/You seek them there - where are the good capitalists? </b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Here I am stuck in the middle with you.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgjhJk_UbT7TGz5ZF6OXKUCn8BqJKRfk_ZbZpRSim9O6eeLFyR08HOiUe8f5iD64w1ufg7VtsAB-VQCsdMdRhmHHnTlfvN8gUaCIku4iiOtzEAW__Mm3QzCXDZ-PVYU6NHOIjamxgrl6pQ/s908/23.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="727" data-original-width="908" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgjhJk_UbT7TGz5ZF6OXKUCn8BqJKRfk_ZbZpRSim9O6eeLFyR08HOiUe8f5iD64w1ufg7VtsAB-VQCsdMdRhmHHnTlfvN8gUaCIku4iiOtzEAW__Mm3QzCXDZ-PVYU6NHOIjamxgrl6pQ/s320/23.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>It's a thankless job. Come rain or shine, you diligently carry on with your duties. You help to maintain a semblance of normality and sanity by keeping our streets clean and healthy. You deserve the title Tokoh Anak Malaysia!</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">When you started off with nothing.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_OhIEShQK14h1XwIMgdKUZlMy6xqaLqC_QLgSsTBxZpd-zBTtMuphJPRQLcL9Rsgzw9ccm8baKGjUEt0Bo4Y3MbLlI-JbJNv-jQ2ZIMmhcsaj-3SJXc8NwodI5inbb9CoM5LE0xxU0L9o/s880/24.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="659" data-original-width="880" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_OhIEShQK14h1XwIMgdKUZlMy6xqaLqC_QLgSsTBxZpd-zBTtMuphJPRQLcL9Rsgzw9ccm8baKGjUEt0Bo4Y3MbLlI-JbJNv-jQ2ZIMmhcsaj-3SJXc8NwodI5inbb9CoM5LE0xxU0L9o/w640-h480/24.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The mother of all reconciliations or just opportunism???</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">And you're proud that you're a self-made man.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3oa5tC1AlGJaIMj2M1laywrDtlR6zZ_lgU2fKrp4nPkVT5m33eqsWhV0Tjk2QkasBQPfeMtpM2qB0yIWn6MonXaOx4fqibOvwnihhKeELHJJ_fo1Si2jvtXVDE5_B-3mvZXiLHmWwb9oF/s738/25.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="267" data-original-width="738" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3oa5tC1AlGJaIMj2M1laywrDtlR6zZ_lgU2fKrp4nPkVT5m33eqsWhV0Tjk2QkasBQPfeMtpM2qB0yIWn6MonXaOx4fqibOvwnihhKeELHJJ_fo1Si2jvtXVDE5_B-3mvZXiLHmWwb9oF/w640-h232/25.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Or maybe 122+1 cheers for the next <i>Ayam yang berkokok. </i>I wrote that in 2016!</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Ooooo-ooo-oooooh</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">And your friends they all come crawling.</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Slap you on the back and say</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Please ...</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Please ...</span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Well I don't know why I came here tonight.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj61puYVhHJftsZwgXctiPlQGjQpDsqpwgbYUm4pqMS_OiYzLrL-qBuzBFSAou_gcCDnzM9auDR8EH6bo5b_DzotJoTq_GcaKOXikygmiyMa1Q7cP_S6e0q9eyynTJfsWQbygpQ6RoCfvy5/s945/26.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="547" data-original-width="945" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj61puYVhHJftsZwgXctiPlQGjQpDsqpwgbYUm4pqMS_OiYzLrL-qBuzBFSAou_gcCDnzM9auDR8EH6bo5b_DzotJoTq_GcaKOXikygmiyMa1Q7cP_S6e0q9eyynTJfsWQbygpQ6RoCfvy5/w640-h370/26.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Dewan Rakyat had been touched by Covid 19! Mind you, it's a conspiracy by the DG and the incumbent PM.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">I've got the feeling that something ain't right.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRhgleEvF6TDJz4cU56_2FyeykI_v7Kk4fgjeu9OWw29ophOjDuJMqyXiwslokjhHpLwS4BkWlOURAQ1ZF2547EWu8wTfvF2Srdsf02L1sZ3cmwm9UUscYRIFO8qXWJTHPFldN1t2oFtAs/s918/27.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="153" data-original-width="918" height="106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRhgleEvF6TDJz4cU56_2FyeykI_v7Kk4fgjeu9OWw29ophOjDuJMqyXiwslokjhHpLwS4BkWlOURAQ1ZF2547EWu8wTfvF2Srdsf02L1sZ3cmwm9UUscYRIFO8qXWJTHPFldN1t2oFtAs/w640-h106/27.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>It's the Government's fault. The Government failed to "improve the standard of ventilation" in our hallowed hall of horror!! Kerajaan Gagal!!!!!</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair.</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">And I'm wondering how I'll get down the stairs.</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Clowns to the left of me!</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwg9TKYwHWjMXJVM50fpBdDHAhuZpxhFRxKu44BP3lhSRFSuqswmLA407MxaqHjtxQj2qsv_JbIGAI0oYkko-xpzZewIjTuzFP4TKzZxaWdMLbA54QhwWiOCRlKlwAS2NL0jv0bqguL55f/s712/29.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="544" data-original-width="712" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwg9TKYwHWjMXJVM50fpBdDHAhuZpxhFRxKu44BP3lhSRFSuqswmLA407MxaqHjtxQj2qsv_JbIGAI0oYkko-xpzZewIjTuzFP4TKzZxaWdMLbA54QhwWiOCRlKlwAS2NL0jv0bqguL55f/w400-h305/29.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Our Gallery of ___________ . Fill in the blank space yourself .</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Jokers to the right!</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eUbsV0D04Osjx7SgAZ9k7pNWFI4B2vVIG04VlsP_vENUPQ3kEpoZQoitYVicW_wec8fW7IvCs1L_WPUIIOgCVYYYt_IXI82oxKR_gnukNELTWnDAFdEiKCsDhbl_BWUI3gwO8aTM5Cj2/s958/28a.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="958" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eUbsV0D04Osjx7SgAZ9k7pNWFI4B2vVIG04VlsP_vENUPQ3kEpoZQoitYVicW_wec8fW7IvCs1L_WPUIIOgCVYYYt_IXI82oxKR_gnukNELTWnDAFdEiKCsDhbl_BWUI3gwO8aTM5Cj2/w400-h196/28a.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Kerajaan Gagal!!! Bring on the Corporate Cavalry and pressurize the Government for more subsidies "or else the economy will collapse". Where are the caring and patriotic Capitalists?</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Here I am stuck in the middle with you.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn4gDgUSsp5OcyWtiiQ3PNPSH_Q5V_3biPfF_sifMOiWI76mfGFUd7pk1jOlsrPPSfjvli7QFrhWFMDp93StZ20B6ihs35NE7y2OW24WE_s0P_kcvAd2c7fU0uNel22lO1xODAcwPvWeAr/s1035/30.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="1035" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn4gDgUSsp5OcyWtiiQ3PNPSH_Q5V_3biPfF_sifMOiWI76mfGFUd7pk1jOlsrPPSfjvli7QFrhWFMDp93StZ20B6ihs35NE7y2OW24WE_s0P_kcvAd2c7fU0uNel22lO1xODAcwPvWeAr/w640-h368/30.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>This is Anak/Bangsa Malaysia Baru 2021.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjenz6Kld9EwLS-8_QTJFfgwzsq0MSG3ftJpcoKSqwDGopEugPlBHL-rrw6sTxre9kwl8EPGWUhOZhzcnYBxxzM5FMwZ7ucw_ZqO_qT1TjYgjeg-o5TJYvBIHhTp6zjHk7szV7M_UFVeMa9/s917/32.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="727" data-original-width="917" height="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjenz6Kld9EwLS-8_QTJFfgwzsq0MSG3ftJpcoKSqwDGopEugPlBHL-rrw6sTxre9kwl8EPGWUhOZhzcnYBxxzM5FMwZ7ucw_ZqO_qT1TjYgjeg-o5TJYvBIHhTp6zjHk7szV7M_UFVeMa9/w640-h508/32.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The faces of Anak/Bangsa Malaysia Baru.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you ...</span></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGc9wT-2BIXIwiTbvEDI37nj_AhVUheEy0YBB0xsyIa2HbAlWD4n4HvUOK8k9zlz-w237F3IGqXp0fBmOfUMTRWtWHUCXBDOU9JX6_iIp2UAMaccbZwVIS7T9hE78ab4TkCCtrb_0LwglL/s847/31.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="307" data-original-width="847" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGc9wT-2BIXIwiTbvEDI37nj_AhVUheEy0YBB0xsyIa2HbAlWD4n4HvUOK8k9zlz-w237F3IGqXp0fBmOfUMTRWtWHUCXBDOU9JX6_iIp2UAMaccbZwVIS7T9hE78ab4TkCCtrb_0LwglL/w640-h232/31.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>A continuation of the image above.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you ...</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPXD7uU7fqixzvjuWwkDF9y_EgztzppFCyEtUagL_MMtZEyKm1gdf0SbPX2fGa3XhUNxiYHQiGAsORvn6ltAEanzYlTUiG4cRNefRP9TS4vCb2KDhKTxMRekalpvj9Rm-ix5dmFLTrY_j/s824/33.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="824" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPXD7uU7fqixzvjuWwkDF9y_EgztzppFCyEtUagL_MMtZEyKm1gdf0SbPX2fGa3XhUNxiYHQiGAsORvn6ltAEanzYlTUiG4cRNefRP9TS4vCb2KDhKTxMRekalpvj9Rm-ix5dmFLTrY_j/w640-h528/33.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>AsH wrote this in 2018. She is a belacan Malay.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you ...</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixvB0t-nq4EFyMuhcpVTw9haufMcWf_WqE01f9u6yXnnsAFBtPRVTlcLrTzFXXIK5GEyD8UI7opBWgVyiyHicSUqhR6LcKwzBfspM5Cabf6OUo21FbYXYrd7xr_2LM5go-6jcTAIgAdzRP/s901/34.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="613" data-original-width="901" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixvB0t-nq4EFyMuhcpVTw9haufMcWf_WqE01f9u6yXnnsAFBtPRVTlcLrTzFXXIK5GEyD8UI7opBWgVyiyHicSUqhR6LcKwzBfspM5Cabf6OUo21FbYXYrd7xr_2LM5go-6jcTAIgAdzRP/w640-h436/34.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>LAST CALL - Will the last anak Melayu to leave the room, please switch off the light!</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Source of Lyrics: Musixmatch</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-14973478883067627662021-07-09T03:36:00.008+01:002021-07-09T04:33:19.890+01:00Two reasons to be ludicrously happy - Irene and Lely<p> Borrowed from The Turtles ""Elenore" - with thanks.</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Elenore (</span>Irene and Lely<span style="color: #2b00fe;">) gee I think you're swell,</span></b></span></p><p><span><b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: large;">And you really do me well,</span></b></span></p><p><span><b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: large;">You're my pride and joy et cetera.</span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/JeAtre3Bxg8" width="320" youtube-src-id="JeAtre3Bxg8"></iframe></b></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span></b></span><p></p><p>Lely and Irene are my two lovely ex-students whose friendship with me (and later with my spouse, since 1986) has lasted yonks, since they were two scruffy, tetchy teenagers in 1976.</p><p>We have walked and shared many miles together, some sad and painful like losing our loved ones, some traumatic illnesses like stroke and cancer, and how these two girls survived with their heads held high and their hearts and spirits ever joyful and positive. Iain and I have a lot to learn from them.</p><p>Years ago when I was in Sixth Form at RGS, I came across this poem Invictus by W E Henley. It never failed to inspire when life threw its brickbats at me. And this second verse I believe ....</p><p><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><b>In the fell clutch of circumstance</b></span></p><p><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><b>I have not winced nor cried aloud.</b></span></p><p><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><b>Under the bludgeonings of chance</b></span></p><p><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><b>My head is bloody, but unbowed. </b></span></p><p>...... was specially written for them two ex-tetchy teenagers!</p><p><br /></p><p>From her school days, Irene has always excelled in Art and English. But she sings and plays the guitar too. That hobby of hers has been keeping her busy and happy ever since she touched the half-century mark some years ago.</p><p>A few days ago Lely sent me a video of "Irene at play". I thoroughly enjoyed it as it brought such a ray of sunshine and hope in these dark Lockdown Covid 19 days. Furthermore I do like the Turtles, especially the song "Elenore". </p><p>I contacted Irene if she could send me this video which I could easily transfer to my blog. Here it is, "Happy Together" sung by Irene.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzuP8Ms_nHePVRLfcB_qAIHmI2uCEuzDGA-aOpNdC90ZpJYzrWkJ9QM1HrjjEzmn_ISxrz0Z6ZbT1TJelOTXg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p>Thank you girls. And here is my collage of some of our "Happy (days) Together " </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXkFl8e7eXuQGVV8ltqlObkdjgCZ2eWQnhosNNk44pzyP5m5popXrSW8J4-UtH0Dtqa7DsY4P9Yb9sRab50KuWNnuHp_LiRvqKBNcKWVxUweQnKg5UAHbb44mRSEHSZf_PgPdRnjKssfW/s431/COMBI+2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="431" data-original-width="431" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXkFl8e7eXuQGVV8ltqlObkdjgCZ2eWQnhosNNk44pzyP5m5popXrSW8J4-UtH0Dtqa7DsY4P9Yb9sRab50KuWNnuHp_LiRvqKBNcKWVxUweQnKg5UAHbb44mRSEHSZf_PgPdRnjKssfW/w640-h640/COMBI+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Clockwise from top left: Norfolk 2008, Singapore 2010, Boon Lay Singapore 1993, Kuala Lumpur 2009.</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>Lely and Irene :</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>You are my pride and joy et cetera.</b></span></p>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6504059632454233163.post-12498117978312551142021-06-14T02:02:00.005+01:002021-06-14T07:57:32.996+01:00LOCKDOWN lotto<p> This song "Mengapa" sung by Rien is from the 1957 Indonesian movie "Delapan Pendjuru Angin". Our whole family went to see the film at Starlight Cinema, Pasir Panjang Road sometime in 1958. It was a wonderful love story with such beautiful songs that absolutely took over the mind of this 13 year-old budding teenager. </p><p>Years and years later, sometime in the late 1980s, while wandering around Arab Street with the spouse, we discovered this shop selling Indonesian 10 inch long-playing records - for SGD5 each - and we bought the lot. Actually there were ony 3 copies of each album!</p><p>It was the late 80s and all I could do was to transfer these songs to a cassette because the vinyls were not in good condition - marked with bubbles, due to age and the heat maybe.</p><p>In 2003 or thereabouts, after CDs came on the scene and cassette tapes were getting redundant, I decided to transfer my Indonesian tapes - which were getting a little frayed - to a video using my little camera - all very unprofessional and lacking in audio perfection. But it did the trick and I can still sit back and relive those 'romantic' teenage years!</p><p>All this hi-tech reproduction was conducted in my study in our house in Leicester. It was a cold winter's day. Outside my window, the scene was grey, with people wrapped in overcoats and bent against the wind. What lovely memories - to listen to this once again in hot and sunny Kuala Lumpur during a Covid 19 Lockdown!!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzDQin2RqLMcehUpET8rFSImFArJj7iMY3rGVDTb-GZy2uj7i4bvZMy3h_33_KYxdSOwLE5IBOy2DAV-dFkHA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><p>With regards to the video above, please note this.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pXjnbCDiAOgQAFAxgdJcP3D5Q36VYb6zNrWzke8mZXMlbjFwzUd4gZmbGsv9HcyqBK_zFrLuipxf53nPBrby-Ou6FsrwEGLFRUNXt71jsksaa-8GazuUXUHDxhIenbgPBnPdAjZ9zGiy/s713/Copyrighr+Statement.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="207" data-original-width="713" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pXjnbCDiAOgQAFAxgdJcP3D5Q36VYb6zNrWzke8mZXMlbjFwzUd4gZmbGsv9HcyqBK_zFrLuipxf53nPBrby-Ou6FsrwEGLFRUNXt71jsksaa-8GazuUXUHDxhIenbgPBnPdAjZ9zGiy/w640-h186/Copyrighr+Statement.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Thank you.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>But, in the midst of this nostalgic bliss, reality came a-creeping.</p><p><br /></p><p>While we were still reeling from the surge of Covid 19 cases in Malaysia , our politicians have also been carrying on with their own personal 'surges' for power. For the past 2 or 3 days we were once again seeing the spectacle of our great parliamentarians making a bee-line for the Istana.</p><p><b>"Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who is the prettiest of them all?"</b></p><p>This time, what have we got? Surprise, surprise. We have got the same drama kings, the same salesmen and fortune tellers.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMyPWkeoAeB4ynTaw-X-dJ8xOHu_EVTSx0-BuRhWkJ7PpTKwZQtlG8wFWHHQrw9INwp1ySc479XGmgaIGt2wmiNAn1QOF570FTIzZcSPGnuO3-rjmqo8ReS4-YJv_XxlVWKpVEOcNbLgoh/s379/Combi+1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="193" data-original-width="379" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMyPWkeoAeB4ynTaw-X-dJ8xOHu_EVTSx0-BuRhWkJ7PpTKwZQtlG8wFWHHQrw9INwp1ySc479XGmgaIGt2wmiNAn1QOF570FTIzZcSPGnuO3-rjmqo8ReS4-YJv_XxlVWKpVEOcNbLgoh/w400-h204/Combi+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-cjIBsfU21MZEYOQu9xPknzidLFRCBSWX-zmvWQF7z_i5Ns42JFK4ySXHw3DG3KCTv22ELquV-cjG5-hld0LrJu332xlwEYDuKb7IoWxHcwoKvCpB69Yua3jW1koG0phHViK0VsrLVH5L/s380/Combi+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="191" data-original-width="380" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-cjIBsfU21MZEYOQu9xPknzidLFRCBSWX-zmvWQF7z_i5Ns42JFK4ySXHw3DG3KCTv22ELquV-cjG5-hld0LrJu332xlwEYDuKb7IoWxHcwoKvCpB69Yua3jW1koG0phHViK0VsrLVH5L/w400-h201/Combi+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5TFRWH2qfJu7RWo-tS5RRmF8jf8yhOextSwr4D1H1uJJvbTaZMZI6FqfvXu9MwTEKq81SaGIJTsq3s-6bsPBcDemRlYOylAIqEdnTfAqUKn2ZeLMZu2EvmJLUbCclSSiMuAb-Fqd3jAct/s384/Combi+3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="384" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5TFRWH2qfJu7RWo-tS5RRmF8jf8yhOextSwr4D1H1uJJvbTaZMZI6FqfvXu9MwTEKq81SaGIJTsq3s-6bsPBcDemRlYOylAIqEdnTfAqUKn2ZeLMZu2EvmJLUbCclSSiMuAb-Fqd3jAct/w400-h203/Combi+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>You might have noticed I arranged the images of these alpha males, these PM hopefuls (and incumbent PM)), and their movers and shakers in alphabetical order, not according to the size of their clout or their ego. </p><p>What are they offering us - in concrete practical language - the Rakyat, this time.</p><p>Aaaahh, democracy!!!!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSod8NFYwNJju291_yar8-F7fePg_7faDZn5LWH-jXEyI2-mRb7HVJ2JItpLStDT2eZMG-zhPzUhblclE2vNv2j9N0GiuYDepZIIIV_HTYJNx9_AA5ciXv9O8Zj_E1B92yyhK7yxJQY3E/s892/What+is+Parliament+-+from+AsH+posting+-+Copy.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="610" data-original-width="892" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSod8NFYwNJju291_yar8-F7fePg_7faDZn5LWH-jXEyI2-mRb7HVJ2JItpLStDT2eZMG-zhPzUhblclE2vNv2j9N0GiuYDepZIIIV_HTYJNx9_AA5ciXv9O8Zj_E1B92yyhK7yxJQY3E/w640-h438/What+is+Parliament+-+from+AsH+posting+-+Copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>However, our Parliament is NOT an "assembly of ONE nation with ONE interest". It is a web of "different and hostile interests", empowered by a great deal of horse-trading (inside and outside Parliament) to determine the direction and future of the nation.</p><p><br /></p><p>Just to bring a touch of levity to this fiasco in Malaysia, I shall escape into the lyrics of my romantic song by Rien to get an insight into what will be in store for us, Covid 19 or no Covid 19!</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: trebuchet;"><b>M. Habis ni, kita pergi saja dari sini. Kita naik mobil ..........</b></span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: trebuchet;"><b>F. Kemana?</b></span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>M. Ke langit! ke bulan! ke bintang!</b></span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p>Aaaah, promises, promises, very like what's coming from our movers and shakers and politicians.</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>F. Kau nakal Seth. </b></span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>M. Kenapa?</b></span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>F. Kau berbuat aku lemah, seperti hilang tenaga melawan.</b></span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p>Yeeess, yeeesss, yeeess! All this political jiggery pokery, MCOs, Covid 19, SOPs - we are absolutely at your mercy!!!!</p><p>There! When we get over Covid 19, someone should write a play about Malaysia's political saga during this pandemic and our hero will be Lord Buckethead or Tun/ Tan Sri/Datuk/ Dato Seri (just insert the right honorific title here) Kepala Baldi.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDL8zPqyD-EGuTt2bqYTeNQrhspu3z2OY7-o0GbwU4lWRsbDNnzP0Of0jPchgLg_EiTPbE1HCOVCdu5PXjuQkqez48faho_FH-3WdWQOjB78h-J52jb7TSnq67A8SwBU836gLIbcEYE4fn/s584/Baldi+2.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="470" data-original-width="584" height="517" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDL8zPqyD-EGuTt2bqYTeNQrhspu3z2OY7-o0GbwU4lWRsbDNnzP0Of0jPchgLg_EiTPbE1HCOVCdu5PXjuQkqez48faho_FH-3WdWQOjB78h-J52jb7TSnq67A8SwBU836gLIbcEYE4fn/w640-h517/Baldi+2.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>It will be cheap to produce. You can stuff any idiot into this outfit.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>The future of this nation is like a game of lotto. You are free to pick a number, any number or numbers. But the certainty of picking the right one, the winner for Malaysia; is almost zilch at these present times, with this political scenario.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPkllFzfOhjhOBjTfdJhsubVwivwBb-Gdwfk03911Q3VVPdaKZZEFizDZF74ZdGZGzkBCQI5cXJfdxfuU7ti86seLCStneUUsUhwxPv2tnmWp2R8FHmQu8_H0hyphenhyphenq6vVssOj_vVx-FqNSse/s709/Rogues%252C+rascals++++++......png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="216" data-original-width="709" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPkllFzfOhjhOBjTfdJhsubVwivwBb-Gdwfk03911Q3VVPdaKZZEFizDZF74ZdGZGzkBCQI5cXJfdxfuU7ti86seLCStneUUsUhwxPv2tnmWp2R8FHmQu8_H0hyphenhyphenq6vVssOj_vVx-FqNSse/w640-h194/Rogues%252C+rascals++++++......png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>We are used to acronyms like PKP, PPKP, PKR, DAP, UMNO, PAS, EMCO, SOPs and MAGERAN (NOC 2). </p><p>We might as well add SRRS to our list - <b>Shifty Rogues, Rascals </b>and <b>Scalawags. </b></p><p>So, I am no Optimist. And I have not as yet, gone to the edge to be a Pessimist.</p><p>Maybe a Pesseptomist. Maybe I can still make a journey up to the Sky, the Moon and the Stars!</p><p>Maybe I shall just seek comfort in this dream ......</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTNX_ff3okKyw1opXoo2WcqEmH2mevvM5ByoWnZ4ONGGCKOb6xxj6l_iBI0X0DAVOUj7ctinUt0mLr4KvhxSPjEVvzm1EFMkTuovLFmkKXbkBtFszhY8WR-rHNMDuDfwC3ZMP0CKxllCB1/s676/AsH+quote+3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="461" data-original-width="676" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTNX_ff3okKyw1opXoo2WcqEmH2mevvM5ByoWnZ4ONGGCKOb6xxj6l_iBI0X0DAVOUj7ctinUt0mLr4KvhxSPjEVvzm1EFMkTuovLFmkKXbkBtFszhY8WR-rHNMDuDfwC3ZMP0CKxllCB1/w640-h436/AsH+quote+3.png" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>..... and maybe on 29 June, I will be able to go out for my tosay breakfast.</p><p><br /></p>anak si-hamidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936071509364600235noreply@blogger.com2