At the Finland Station

Running for Charity

2011-07-09T11:09:00.001+08:00

Dear Family and Friends,

I am running to raise money and awareness for the Omid Foundation who help disadvantaged Iranian women by giving them emotional support and an education to re-start their lives. These women come from various backgrounds and have had traumatic experiences - some had been sold to prostitution at an early age, or are children of drug addicts. They have not had a normal childhood nor access to a stable family life; some have never even been to school. 'The Glass House' was a documentary-film made about the work of the Foundation and charts the lives of some of the young girls they helped. You can read more about them and the women they help on their website here.

Omid is a well organised foundation that aims to give direct help and support to these women so that they can get a second chance at life. They are given an education, taught vocational skills, encouraged to gain academic qualifications and are rehabilitated into society with the help of trained professionals. As they are a charity, they heavily rely on donations. This is the reason I want to run for them - I believe in their work and I was truly touched by the stories of these women. I want to help give them that second chance.

I aim to raise as much money as possible to help Omid with their work - and I need your help to do so. This is a link to the donation page, together with my running manifesto:http://www.omid-e-mehr.org/ebl ast/runtothebeat-2011.htm

Many thanks in advance - all your support is deeply appreciated.

rowena

Nakba

2011-05-16T03:27:00.002+08:00

Take a moment, ladies and gentlemen, and listen to both the silence and the gunshots around you. Today is the Nakba.

Omar Sharif: Making fact rather dashing

2011-02-08T06:37:00.000+08:00

Omar Sharif as Sharif Ali in the film Lawrence of Arabia. I'm not sure whether it's the piercing dark eyes, the bushy moustache or the majestic posture - whatever it is, Omar Sharif cuts quite a figure in the desert.

War is Over

2010-10-10T02:00:00.000+08:00

Happy Birthday, John.

We still love your songs.

I think we've lost him, Mr Helpmann

2010-07-23T00:10:00.001+08:00

Familiar with the eccentricity (or just plain madness) of Terry Gilliam, I was not too surprised at the out of this world experience that is Brazil. Powerfully performed by an amazing cast, the film made quite an impact. Set in a 1984-type world, it is similar in storyline too but from then on, it's an original and unique piece of cinema. Michael Palin, despite his daytime job, is all smiles and good humour. Jonathan Pryce plays a government bureaucrat, Sam Lowry who leads a rather dull and unfulfilling life by day but at night, in his dreams, he is a knight in shinning armour, fighting demons in pursuit of a nameless damsel in distress. He goes on robotically, until a chance meeting finds him face to face with the girl from his dreams. In pursuing her, he encounters a rebellious repairman, bureaucracy at its finest, and the dark underbelly of a very sinister brand of "Happiness".

It seems almost impossible to follow the train of thought of the movie, and it feels almost okay to not bother, and simply enjoy the incredible sights and sounds of a madman's imagination.

Within the Orchard, Beyond the Trees.

2010-06-18T07:01:00.001+08:00

Women without Men is a film by Shirin Neshat and is set in 1950s Tehran - specifically during the Musaddiq crisis and the ensuing people, albeit male dominated protests. The film charts the lives of 4 women - the spinster sister of a strict, religious, conservative man; her innocent, naive friend who is unwittingly thrown into the bitter reality of life; a disturbed and deeply damaged prostitute; and a woman in her 50s who discovers life late but discovers that maybe it is all just a little too late.

The role of women in Iranian society and politics were carefully and delicately addressed - how they were (and arguably continue to be) omitted or at best sidelined from mainstream politics, how they satisfy roles as lovers, wives, mothers, and sisters. What emerges is not a bleak portrait of women as submissive creatures, but as human beings who are strong, beautiful, determined, and defiant. Even though at times, the price to be free is just too high to pay.

It is a film of little words and dialogue is kept to a minimum. Instead, the plight of Iranian women are addressed by stark images, haunting music (provided beautifully by one of my childhood heroes, Ryuichi Sakamoto), stunning as well as painful scenes. It has a slightly dreamy and eerie feel about it, which adds to its sense of poignancy and loss. It did not overwhelm the audience (I was personally pleased with the length of time), and left us all with the need to reflect on our own society, coming of age, and how we can escape or come to terms with our own pre-determined fates.

For more information, this is the film's website: http://www.womenwithoutmenfilm.com/.

If it will do for a mug...

2010-05-15T22:55:00.000+08:00

Pomegranates bruised and ripe.
Contemplation and revolution,
Over our water-pipe.

For the Workers

2010-05-02T16:51:00.000+08:00

Happy May Day.
I know it is a day late. But every day is Worker's Day. You. Me. All of us. Every one of us.

Easter

2010-04-05T01:33:00.001+08:00

Happy Easter.

Blessings to you all.

The Constitutional Revolution of Iran

2010-04-04T23:58:00.001+08:00

The Constitutional Revolution.

Preparation time: 1905-1911

Several sprinklings of Bread Riots

1 wasteful trip to Europe by the Shah and his entire family

3 Secret Societies

1 arrogant foreign financial advisor
A spoonful of political discontent
A teaspoon of economic improvement
Several alliances between civil society and the hierocracy

A helpful serving of political awareness and exposure

Mix well. Best served hot.

So strange, yet beautiful?

2010-03-14T01:48:00.003+08:00

You take a perfectly successful musical. You add ten years, technology, a new place, bathing suits, hot ait balloons and well, you get Love Never Dies.

The story takes us to Coney Island, New York where freaks and stars mingle. The place for the Phantom as you can imagine! Roaming fairly freely without so much as a second glance, he still hurts from losing Christine. He sends for her - after all a bait of money and music is much too much to be refused, especially for Christine and her need for music, and the Phantom. Bien sur. She arrives in New York, with husband Raoul (who has turned out to be a drunk, gambling-mad blaggard - hmmm, surprise surprise) and musically inclined (hint, hint) son, Gustave.

She is "shocked" to find the Phantom there and they reminisce about some moonless night. Madame Giry and her daughter, Meg are also around Coney Island, as the Phantom's business partners for his spectacle, Phantasma. Meg, has developed a little bit of a crush on the Phantom, as do all of us after all. Christine regrets her choice of Raoul and realises, perhaps too late, that she has been in love with the masked genius all along. The Phantom, as always as always, will always always love Christine so he, determined to get her back, makes a bet with Raoul - if she sings the aria he wrote for her, it would be proof that she needs him and the music, and if she doesn't then she can leave with Raoul and a handsome trousseau.

I shall leave it there - after all, any blogposts about the Phantom should have a little mystery, don't you think. As for the ending, there are some happy points, especially with regards to choices but some tragedy as one can expect, judging from the Phantom's track record.The music is, I can say, excellent. There are some hints of the classic but a really good score. Ramin Karimloo as the lead, is in a word - phantastic. Truly, a voice of gold.

Give yourself to the Dark Side

2010-02-13T16:56:00.001+08:00

A recent delve into my geekish side, has revealed what I suspect to be an old fascination with the villain we all hate to love, Darth Vader. As a child watching the Star Wars movies, I was drawn to his voice (lent lovingly by James Earl Jones of course) and his cool demeanour (after all, how much emotion can one show in a metal black suit with dials), but really more interested in the cuddle appeal of Chewbacca.

But I revisited that old classic, which has spawned games, t-shirts, Lego sets (I admit my ownership of one or two of these with my own pocketable Darth with red glowing lightsabre attached), and again, my interest has perked. Perhaps because I need yet another distraction - perhaps? But no, I stand true to his appeal. It is his boots, his gloves, his anguish and his temper. Trying to translate him into a present-day setting is a little difficult and I can only imagine that we are simply drawn to his human-like qualities behind the mechanics, which manifest in fatherly concern, the desire for redemption, confusion, and conflict.

Ah, whatever it is. He is pretty cool.

Hey Hey What What

2010-01-04T15:36:00.001+08:00

Happy new year to everyone: all the boys and girls, all the sad and happy people, all the optimists and pessimists, all the loved and unloved, all of you and all of me. May 2010 bring us what we want, what we pray for and what we dream of.

I recently rewatched an old favourite film: The Madness of King George. I forgot how good it was: it tells the story of how George III of Hanoverian England lost his mind. We see him degenerate from a jovial, overly excited, well liked monarch to a foul-mouthed, deranged lunatic. With an ambitious Prince of Wales (played by Rupert Everett in all his oily and wigged glory) waiting in the wings to become Prince Regent, it becomes highly important for the mad king to find his sanity. He is aided by William Pit (the younger) and a parson-turned-doctor who uses unconventional methods to treat the poorly sovereign. Wonderfully portrayed by Nigel Hawthorne, the cast also includes a German accented Helen Mirren who plays Queen Charlotte, the devoted and patient wife of Farmer George, as he is lovingly known as by his subjects.

It is also a play by Alan Bennett, and as you can imagine, the dialogue reflects his usual wit! An interesting look at lunacy and how it affects even the highest of kings.

Written in Squid Ink

2009-12-04T18:29:00.001+08:00

After 6 months of waiting (I exaggerate but the wait was significantly long), a vertigo-inducing seat, it was time to see Eddie Izzard LIVE at the O2. Mum and Art had to endure me on the Thames Clipper ride to the stadium. That is 20 minutes of hyperactivity and a blabber of incomprehensible chatter every time the Eddie Izzard Stripped Advert came on the built-in floating TV. But next thing I knew, we were seated in the massive O2 tent and then after a play of lights, Eddie Izzard stepped on to the stage, bowed at all corners and began his mad tirade on human civilisation with dinosaur roars, speeding raptors, jazz farm animals, raptor porn, chariot windshield wipers, wikipedia, the out-of-towels-Pepys-diary-keeping giant squid, Mr Squirrel and every other surreal combination of everything.

In an nutshell, he was absolutely amazing. I can still see his name in lights, his expressive eyes and the way he laughs at his own ridiculousness.

Phantom II: He Still Loves You, Christine!

2009-11-01T18:44:00.008+08:00

It's here. The months leading to the opening of Andrew Lloyd Webber's new spectacle loom ahead. On this dark, mist-filled path, one can only imagine what wonders await us. Love Never Dies follows up the story of our much loved, well used characters (the Phantom, Christine, Raoul - okay no one really likes Raoul but he's a necessary character - Madame Giry, and Meg Giry) but in a new setting. An over ground one at that, which makes for some interesting symbolism. As far as I can gather, the Phantom is now an important figure in new-world-type-thing-going-on New York, being the successful owner of Coney Island. He lures Christine (husband Raoul and their son Gustave in tow) over, having pined for her for the last 10 years. Move on, Phantom? But I suppose his torment is what he (and his loyal fans) live on. So bring on the potential tragedy (or surprise happy ending - come on Phantom needs it) and sweep us off our feet with your music of the night.

Ramin Karimloo (the sexy one) plays the Phantom in the new production, with Sierra Bogges as the ever wandering Christine. I've already got my tickets for March 2010. Can't wait.

Halloween

2009-11-01T10:07:00.003+08:00

Ghouls and goblins and phantom masks
Love and life and heartbreaking tasks.
There is nothing more to say about this day.
Nothing more to add to what you have to say.

Now don't we all like a horrorshow filmy to viddy once in a while?

2009-09-18T22:14:00.007+08:00

I had the opportunity to read A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess a few months ago. A verbal, sexual fest of words (just flowing like unmuddied water), it was such a read that caused a plethora of emotions. The story was amazing, frightening and adventurous. Alex and his drogues will be beating you with their actions but wooing you with their language. We lap up whatever his tongue dictates.

Fairuz then recommended me the film. A Stanley Kubrick classic of the same name, it is a wonder to the eye as it is a pleasure to the ear. A ready hand to cover one's eyes at times. But one's gulliver is indeed filled with words by the end of it! Morality and ethics are brought to question by Alex through his actions and his punishment. While his treatment is as contreversial, his pleasure in ultra-violence is manic as well as fascinating (only a mandman could derive such delights in rape, pillage and pain) - not to mention a love for Ludwig van.

Moloko plus first, my brothers. Right, right, right? But not this notchy for what thou didst have in mind.

September Ramblings/Happy Merdeka

2009-09-15T21:15:00.002+08:00

Looking back on the last months, I can say that I've done things I never thought I would, seen stuff that opened my mind, felt everything from heartbreak to elation to excitement to happiness. What can I say. It's all been good. Hey scrap that. It's been one helluva (don't you just love that word?) ride.

I wrote at the beginning of the holidays that we'll be discovering ourselves, welcoming new sides of us. Humbert Humbert said, parentheses included, (in reference to his and Lolita's travels) we had travelled everywhere and seen nothing - or something to that effect. I think I've practically been nowhere but seen everything. I stayed in London most of June, July and half of August: I worked, I camped, I cried, I spent days that never should've ended, but I loved it all. I was in Malaysia for the other half of August, and most of September to be with family, friends, to read, to rekindle my love of the X-Files (for all my highbrow Marxist ways, where would I be without Mulder and Scully?) and restored my tired soul. It was indeed tired.

Oh and Happy Merdeka, Malaysia. 52, and it's only just going through its teenage years. As countries go. It's a young nation with an old soul, and a lot of attitude.

Something to Tickle your taste buds

2009-08-31T03:01:00.001+08:00

Enjoy!

http://twitter.com/razakbaginda

Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence

2009-08-22T21:39:00.003+08:00

I recently revisited an old classic (and an old personal favourite - it's listed as a favourite film on Facebook and as we all know, Facebook never lies) starring David Bowie, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Tom Conti, Takeshi and Jack Thompson in the roles of Japanese prison guards and British POWs, set in a Javanese camp in 1942. Under the poignantly touching title Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence, the film sheds light on the relationships, tension and dare we even say, love developped during captivity between captor and captive.

Bowie plays as Jack Celliers, a Major in the British Army while Sakamoto (who incidentally wrote the score and the brilliant tune of the same name) is Captain Yonoi, the head of the camp who develops an obsession with Celliers. Conti is the namesake of the film: Colonel John Lawrence who in the film, acts as liaison officer because of his proficiency in the language and culture of the Japanese. Takeshi is Sergeant Hara who in his drunken moments proves to be the gentlest human being while with sobriety, he is the strict guard of the camp.

An amazing film that takes us into the minds of soldiers who under their caps, and their bland uniforms, are truly only just simply human.

Communism is the new Chic

2009-07-23T02:56:00.004+08:00

Has fashion replaced idealism?

Karl Marx did not have a section on fashion in Das Kapital. But Karl Lagerfeld am sure has other plans. In lieu of the Golden Star of the USSR, we have instead the gilded Cs of Chanel. To be honest. I am quite shocked, if not slightly flabbergasted at this flagrant capitalistic gob in the eye to communism. It is the irony of history I suppose: Cold War enemy of yesterday, inspiration to fashion today. The question that begs to be asked is this: will we be fashioning turbans, headscarves and the crescent in the next generation? While American foreign policy dictates who we hate, French haute couture dictates what we wear.

The bag - Lenin is spinning in his Red Square tomb:

Highlights of June written in July

2009-07-20T04:32:00.003+08:00

Finishing my exams/The GBLT picnic

After a month (SOAS doesn't do things by half!) of slaving at the library (9am-7pm, almost every day except for one day I blew off to spend by the river in Richmond Park - twas worth it!), the exams were over. The last line for the year had been written and the holiday had arrived. Not with a bang but with a little pull at the sleeve. It's quite discreet in that sense. It wasn't a feeling of intense relief but rather a ah tis done state of mind. The summer stretched ahead and to be honest, I was not looking forward to it. Too much space. The picnic was right after - it was lovely to see all of us with the look of relief and the ability to relax and not use the "i have to go to the library" excuse! I've heard it too many times, and I've used it on more than one occasion. Art was skipping and singing. We did the Time Warp again and again and again. We lay in the grass. Some of us ran into the fountain. Some of us were speaking in different languages. It was a good day.

Fairuz's Visit/The End of the Year Ball

Fairuz came to town and did she shimmer London or what! (She did, in case you were wondering). She stayed for two weeks and we watched (in order): We Will Rock You, Hamlet, Hairspray and Priscilla Queen of the Desert. We had English breakfast (not a tea, as you well know...) and Art cooked for us a banquet of meals fit for a King (or rather Queens). Fairuz and Art met and sparks flew - I maintain they gave me toncilitis in order to soft shoe across London on their own! I brought Fairuz to a Gay Bar and she danced the night away - wowing us all to the tunes of Katy Perry, Britney and ABBA (if memory serves me well). Thank you Elly for walking us to the bus stand- I can't walk down TCR without thinking of you. I dragged Fairuz to the End of the Year Ball (thank you Elly for asking me to go - I would not have gone otherwise) and we went home twice. I swear sir, we're over 18! Fairuz - you can really shake your groove thing! I just shift my weight from one leg to another. And we topped it off with some fast food before going home to gossip about the evening. We had a picnic in your honour Fai-Fai (thank you all for turning up to sit on the grass) and we also had a mountain of a breakfast that morning - those amazing pancakes that did not disappear no matter how hard you closed your eyes. And of course, that epic trip to the Science Museum. I love that stupid cup and curly straw thing. Love it. So. Very. Much. Not to mention the pile of crap we didn't really need but still bought. We drove the evening away too - we saw Tower Bridge at night and the London Eye sparkled for our young hearts. Ah when we saw you off at the airport, I had already begun to miss you. Good luck with Year 2.

Working with the D Group/The Occupation

Thanks to father, I managed to get a job as a temporary assistant at the D-Group, just on Dover Street. It was a good experience - name card sorting was never as fun indeed. My workmates were all so lovely (special shout to Roger Dillon who always asked how I was) though I doubt they'd say the same about me! It was an interesting company though I'm not quite sure what they do. Oh well! Art came round to see me for a few lunches and those visist always brightened up my day - it was something to look forward to! We'd have lasagnes or soup and gossip like two characters from Sex and the City. Great afternoons they were indeed! And one fateful Friday in June, some workers from SOAS were taken to a room, searched and arrested, and then deported. All without any initial legal aid. Just taken away like that. I left for work and made my way to SOAS for the protest. We ended up in the City with makeshift placards made on the train, and we marched in our SOAS colours and made our case known to the centre. We called it a day and continued again on Sunday to paint banners (I watched 3/4 of Hedwig the stage version with Art but I left before it finished - I know you haven't forgiven me but I hope you understand why), among other things - the Sunday of my life: the day I secretly relive in the sanctity of memory. Perfection in a day, if ever that was possible. But the week that followed was manic if not exciting. The occupation began and we slept on the floors of Paul Webley's office in protest to the deportation of the SOAS 9. We also marched down gower street, holding hands, carrying banners, holding up placards (though mine kept on unhinging) following Hanadi with a megaphone. I was so proud of all of us. We made it in the end and we won the fight. I've always admired Clare but it was truly something else to see her in action. It's nice to be able to say hey yeah I know Clare and oh yeah I was there.

Such a month it was indeed! It even needs its own soundtrack. If I could I'd play love songs, dance grooves, musical numbers, piano concertos, harmonica riffs and march songs. Ciao bella, my beautifuls.

Not even Turkish Delights

2009-06-30T22:24:00.002+08:00

You: So it's a shame we're in different countries.
Me: Yeah it's been a rough week sans latrines.
You: So it didn't work out for you, it didn't work out for me.
Me: I guess if it wasn't meant to be, it wasn't meant to be.
You: I was kinda wondering...
Me: I've been kinda day dreaming...
You: I think whatever I say -
Me: I'm not really listening to what you have to say.
You: And I think whatever I write -
Me: All I can think of is Turkish Delights.
You: Perhaps maybe we should -
Me: If only what I dream, could.
You: I kinda like Turkish Delights.
Me: Let's see where has fate set.
Us: I can't quite face the world just yet.

Beauty walks on a razor's edge - someday I'll make it mine, bob.

2009-05-30T07:13:00.003+08:00

Hello! It has been a crazy May. Exams are finally over - they were scattered over the month like rainbow sprinkles on a massive cake. I had so many fun moments: library madness, late-night movie showings, reading in the sun. Oh it has been wonderful. Where to begin. I am going to miss school. Summer's great and all but everyone's all over the place discovering new locations, meeting different people, learning new things. And it's fantastic, yes. But somehow - it's kind of lonely too. It's as if we're all on our separate missions, not truly apart but not quite together. You know the feeling.

I am looking forward to the coming months of re-evaluation and discovery. But I also can't wait until October when winter settles in again and we're sheltered from the cold by the stories we tell.

So my friends. Enjoy the summer. Enjoy yourselves. A toast to new beginnings, new friends, new adventures, new challenges, new us.

Hopes, fears, deeper conversation, and your favourite colour

2009-04-08T23:37:00.006+08:00

My ears are all alert and my heart is open, thanks to this discovery (courtesy of my friend Nurmala). She goes by the name of Yuna and she'll be hitting our airwaves very soon. What struck me was the simplicity of her music (flowing music on guitar - literally the notes are floating all about you when you hear her play), the deep intentions of her soft and simple lyrics.

I really do think she has something to calm the soul and feed our desire for love. And you know me, folks, I'm always one for the love of love.

Here she is on Youtube.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41JBNf9dyB4

And this is her MySpace page.

http://www.myspace.com/yunaroomrecords

Always this ridiculous obsession with Love: A Greek Story

2009-03-12T08:45:00.005+08:00

There is a story, that is both comical and divine. It attempts to explain how we are roaming this earth, half and incomplete, searching for the other that makes us complete. It is a tale that is told countless times, referred to a million times and probably the one I like best (be it told in its original form as Aristophanes' speech in Plato's Symposium or in its modern modification in Hedwig's Origin of Love).

According to the myth, there were three sexes. Two-bodied women, men who were stuck back to back, and the halfmen-halfwomen creatures. They're all us, by the way. One day, they angered the gods and Zeus in his anger struck thunderbolts (or heavenly knives, I am not sure) and split these doubles into singles, and they were scattered all over the world.

Ever since then, we've been trying to piece ourselves back together with metaphorical staples and thread. Happy finding, my friends.

Love, the day after.

2009-02-15T17:33:00.003+08:00

Love is a Dali painting with no pain.
Love is waiting in the light rain
and wondering if you'd show up.
Love is a Special Edition DVD Eddie Izzard boxset,
Watching it with chips - not caring about becoming fat.

Love, as I can tell, is a kind of state of mind
where you have no idea if you're in pause or rewind.
And your head's in the air and the only way is up, up.
Love is a half-read book with pencil'd notes
at the side. Receipts crumpled in the pocket of my coat.

Love is buying flowers at half the price.
Love is the taste of sugary spice.
It is the feeling of hearts mixing into a homemade cocktail
(or rather mocktail).
It is when you stop believing in such a thing as love songs.
Only to be proven wrong.

Basically. Love is the simple appreciation of the things around you
and making much of the few.

I just want to be Filthy Rich!

2009-01-25T01:13:00.004+08:00

You, reader, must know of my aversion (call it suppression if you like) to TV shows. But. I have made an exception and when I make exceptions, it has to be the best. After all, if you're going to do something - do it well. And so. Allow me to introduce you (fanfare please) to The Riches!

The show follows the lives of a Traveler (Irish Gypsies who roam around the United States pick pocketing and conning their way about life) family who end up impersonating a dead man's life. It's got everything you need in a show: excellent dialogue, edge-of-your-seat-tongue-wagging-eyes-popping suspense, cross-dressing, Southern hospitality, lies, deceit, llamas, sex in a Benz, and of course, Eddie Izzard - who is at the moment, the bane of my existence. Yes. I am in love. It's a transcendental trashy unexplainable kind of love. Minnie Driver gives an excellent performance too.

Right. Watch it if you can. You won't regret it.

If Hell was a blues bar, I'd gladly be a sinner!

2009-01-17T16:12:00.006+08:00

Last night was my induction into the shady swanky smoky (even with the smoking ban, if you get my drift) world of the blues, courtesy of some good friends from SOAS (thank ye, James). We sat at a table right next to the stage, and therefore got the full brunt of the music - not that I'm complaining. The early evening saw the crowd serenaded by two men with guitar, singing everything from Dylan to Lennon. As it got later, and the lights got dimmer, the small stage was compacted rather ingeniously with a full set of drums, a double bass, audio boxes of some sort, and of course the West Weston lads with their harmonicas and blues charm. When they began, the evening truly did too. Everyone was moving to the beat and for one moment, all seemed just fine with the world. And with the blues, all will be taken in our stride.

All in all, a good evening. And lastly and most importantly, thank you Art Mitchells-Urwin (the person, the idiom and the concept rolled into one person), for reminding me that there is still much humanity and respect in this world.

West Weston, play me the blues, boys.

Ending 2008 with Bombs and Blood

2008-12-29T03:39:00.003+08:00

So much for the promise of change, peace and a better world.

Israel opened the borders to Gaza. Supplies were needed. A humanitarian crisis of inhuman proportions. Only to begin an air strike (with "surgical precision") that has left 271 Palestinians dead. No New Year's Eve for them - their fireworks are way too real.

I was at the protest today outside the Israeli Embassy. There was a great turnout and the crowds were waving the flag high, shouting chants of Free Free Palestine. The cause will never be short of its supporters and the shouts of protest will never cease as long as the occupation continues.

As John and Yoko said all those years ago (their relevance will transcend time), War Is Over. If you want it.

Happy Birthday

2008-12-14T05:54:00.002+08:00

Happy birthday dear cousin Fairuz.
On this day yourself you must amuse.
Sing in the streets, dance in puddles.
On this day you have no chagrin or no troubles.

Happy birthday and enjoy your day.
Have some cake, balloons and happiness.
All on a glittering and blinding tray.
It's a day of fun and laughter and fanciness.

Tricks, Plates and Turkish Delights.

2008-12-08T18:31:00.005+08:00

Tricks are those you play on me.
Plates are what we eat on.
Turkish Delights are what we eat.

The Ottoman Sultan is on his throne.
Under his turban, all you see is his beard and two feet.
He is smoking a pipe and drinking mint tea.

The Grand Vizier is contemplating his fate.
He's writing policies and is not alone
In his room, the lights are luminated low, breeze from the Bosphorous sea.

Tricks and kings and desire and affairs of state and evening twlight.
Miniature paintings and capitulations and my heart's on a throne
Whenever I am eating Turkish Delights.

Freedom, definition

2008-11-04T11:48:00.004+08:00

freedom |ˈfrēdəm|

noun

ORIGIN Old English frēo (adjective), frēon (verb), of Germanic origin; related to Dutch vrij and German frei.

. the state of not being imprisoned or enslaved.

I'd really like to take this opportunity to show my appreciation for the support of the general public for their kind wishes, friends from school and those I have been fortunate to meet along the way, and most importantly, family because without them, there is no us.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

This should not be taken as an opportunity to speculate or continue on with the vicious rumours. It is simply a celebration of my father's release from prison. I would appreciate it if we could be left to pick up and regain the last two years we have lost. Thank you.

The Disability of Language

2008-10-25T05:20:00.002+08:00

This is going to be a difficult post to write, as the title suggests and as you can imagine. Words can be as beautiful as they are disabling. Do we always mean what we say? Do we say things to hide what we really mean? Do we mean I love you when we say I love you or do we indeed actually very really mean something completely different?

I've been thinking about this for some time now and I've been trying to figure it all out and I may have come to the simple conclusion that words do not always express how we truly feel. Books and books, words after words, blogs beyond blogs, speeches spoken speeches - are we saying what can't be said with just wondrous words?

In art - no matter the medium - could it be possible that feeling and emotion is expressed more clearly? Colour, shapes, paint, plaster - a potpourri of possible intentions. But they could mean so many things, there is no definite meaning. As such, it is only words that can decide what it is we mean something that we want to reveal, or hide. Which then makes me wonder, are words there to hide what we mean or to attempt to explain what we do indeed want to say?

The debate I suppose continues. Language is a beautiful phenomenon and words are like confetti. But what on earth do I mean by that, right?

Her Name was Carol

2008-09-26T10:37:00.005+08:00

The year is 1950-something. New York city. The scene is the toy department of Frankenberg's. Therese Belivet is staring into space, her toe is bleeding, her career in stage designing is nowhere near Broadway, she is not in love with her boyfriend, she has no family. Then she meets the completely mesmerising Mrs H. F. Aird, first name Carol, a customer looking at dolls as a present for her daughter. Therese attends her with as much professionalism as she can muster, but her heart is lost and when the woman has disappeared behind closed lift doors, she takes a chance and writes a Christmas card. Carol calls her to say thank you then proceeds to invite the impressionable Therese for lunch.

What happens next is a true adventure of the heart. It is as much as a growing up tale, as it is a love story. Carol is the divorced older woman who is given a chance to completely break free and throw caution to the wind. Therese is the young girl who has no real past but chances for an uncertain future with what may possibly be true love. Together, they give in to their desires: they answer the questions of their heart fully and unashamedly. But all is not well, and the fragility of love is put through the test of seperation and persecution.

The novel, initially published as A Price of Salt in 1951, is an undeniable read. In my opinion, it's a beautiful book to read on a rainy day, curled up in bed. It's carless and passionate. There's an amazing trip taken into the American heartland. It calls out to the adventurer and lover in us all. Give it a chance and take the trip down the heady and bubbly road of what we dare call love.

History Hysteria: the Middle East

2008-09-13T22:53:00.007+08:00

I am often greeted by raised eyebrows and awkward silences when I tell people that I study history. The reaction is even more astute when I tell them that I actually do like it. But history is the ultimate window in to the history and conscience of humankind. It is both a science and a humanity - its methodology is precise yet its analysis is wonderfully broad.

But more to the point. The Middle East. My interests were tweaked when I started reading A Peace to End All Peace: The Fall of the Otoman Empire and the Creation of the Modern Middle east, written by David Fromkin. Allow me to highly recommend it. It has opened my eyes and deepened my understanding on how such a complex and exotic region became so absorbed in political chaos. The book questions (and partly answers) the actions of European politicians and how they grossly misinterperated a region they knew too little about. The book also highlights a Middle East that was a museum in a 20th Century development buzz. Politically backward with wazirs and tarbushed figures who had little appreciation or understanding for the renaissance of Europe, nor the political flair of the West.

The Ottoman Empire, a giant with a malignant malaise, beautifully disillusioned to the end. Young patriots who through inexperience and desperation, led the Ottomans to their defeat. Sharp politicians who knew so much about too little. Lobbyists, supporters, campaigners, experts. The heroic and foolish. The romantic and false. All heroes and cowards alike.

The Middle East, as we know it today, was the creation of Arabs, Jews, Muslim, Christian, Turkish, British, French - all with their own ideals, their own borders, their own tactics, their own divisions, their own answers to the ultimte question: what to give to whom? The culmination of many many many factors, which miraculously and fatefully created one of the most, if not the most, volatile region in this already unstable world we live in.

To the historian, it is a true wonder. To the human being, we can only hope for the best and pray for the ultimate solution.

General Allenby enters Jerusalem, tactfully on foot.

To be a Pierced Deer

2008-09-06T07:41:00.008+08:00

Frida Kahlo.

I believe she's one of the most exquisite painters I can claim to know. Her art is provocative. There's an air of danger to them. Her paintings are like dares : I dare you to feel my pain, I dare you to be loved and hurt, I dare you to fall from dizzying heights, I dare you to look beauty straight in the eye and bite your thumb at her.

But she was more than a painter, and more than life too. She was larger than life, though not in the sense her husband Diego Riviera was larger than life. With her exotic background (her mother was Mexican while her father was German) and her long skirts, she was a painting all by herself; and in fact, she mostly painted self-portraits. She would depict her lifelong physical pain (she was in a horrific accident in her youth) and emotional suffering (she could never have children), yet at the same time there is much beauty in the pain. Her art was encouraged by her husband, also a famous and well-credited muralist. She began painting on her back (the accident broke her spine) and she went on to paint life.

I had the good fortune to see an exhibition of her work. It was in 2005, at the Tate Modern in London. I remember begging my father to bring me and, bless him, he relented, and we went. It was an amazing experience to see her work face to face. I got the feeling of being completely naked while in such presence. It was as if the paintings were judging, taunting, tempting me. She truly is a genius on canvas.

She was portrayed in the film Frida by Salma Hayek, and it's worth a watch if you're interested in knowing a little more about this amazing woman. It's a very good film based on the biography of her by Hayden Herrera, which I also recommend.

Et voila.

Sometimes Love is in a Different Language

2008-08-22T23:17:00.008+08:00

I watched Aimee & Jaguar the other day. I've seen it before but for some reason or other, this second viewing was much more affecting. The film, set against the backdrop of a falling Berlin in 1944, tells the story of the beautiful but horribly doomed love affair between the wife of a German soldier (Lily; nicknamed Aimee) and a secretly Jewish secretary working for a Nazi newspaper (Felice; the enigmatic Jaguar). Felice also helps with the Resistance movement - a dangerously precarious life as you can imagine. Exciting times, as she poignantly puts it. She meets the lonely, romance craving, short-sighted housewife Lily at a concert-hall, but it's a brief and impression-less meeting as far as Lily is concerned. Felice however becomes fascinated and as fate would have it, they meet again and become better acquainted - both a little more intrigued by the other, both craving for a chronically absent sense of security. And despite the bombs and the fear, they fall quite helplessly in love.

It's a case of where bombs fall, may love flourish. And despite the impending tragedy, they remain honest human beings who eventually pay the ultimate price for a taste of happiness when happiness was as rare as a food ration card.

The story is beautifully told. It's an affecting tale that's bound to remind us that love comes when it is least expected, or wanted. Juliane Kohler and Maria Schrader, who play Lily and Felice respectively, deliver one of the best performances I have ever seen. In German, no less.

A Good Cause

2008-08-18T18:29:00.007+08:00

Recently, I was offered an insight into the good work of Princess Azizah of Pahang who has taken up the often under-looked cause of families who want to be families. She has brought to light the plight of parents who have been unable to conceive through her foundation, the Tengku Azizah Fertility Foundation (TAFF). With the help of this organisation, parents are given the financial and medical aid needed for IVF treatment.

My mother and I were invited to the TAFF Family Day not too long ago and we were able to witness her kindness and genuine care for these families. It was so touching to see the proud parents with their bundles of joy - their faces radiant with happiness. But the credit really does go to the Princess who was without snobbery and who had given her whole heart into the project. She is aided by able doctors and a dedicated team who believe in her and in the cause.

I was most impressed by her good work and it really was an eye-opening experience. I do wish the foundation well in all its success.

The X-Files Always Rings Twice

2008-07-29T21:16:00.005+08:00

Last night, after 3 agonising days of waiting, I was finally awarded a trip to watch the X-Files Movie: The X-Files 2: I Want to Believe. To say the least, I was far from disappointed. Trish (not her real name. Her identity remains protected by the forces that be) in an act of selflessness, agreed to accompany me on this historic journey. She knows of my like of the X-Files and didn't think my alien rap too bad. Besides, I would not have seen it with anyone else. Well, David and Gillian were both busy for the premiere anyway.

My family was there, thus making the treat even more delightful. The film opened scarily enough with a kidnapping and a severed limb in the snow. Very classy. Although the pace could've been faster, the film stayed true to its identity as a thriller, more disturbing than outright frightening show. Mulder and Scully, sans their agent-status, were wonderful as always. Special mention to Mulder's facial hair, and I do mean his beard. Dr Scully, as she is now known as, looks awfully sexy in a lab-coat. Needless to say, I was sitting in a pool of drool half-way throughout the film.

This film has everything you want in it: love, hope, chills, overcoats, Ford cars, heads, two-headed dogs, snow, blood, more snow, gay marriage and everyone's favourite agents.

Through the doors of the Sublime Porte

2008-07-03T13:15:00.010+08:00

Istanbul's been on my mind: I've been thinking about the Byzantines, the Ottomans and the Bosphorus. I've been emersed in its history, its very rich and vibrant history. Its buildings, morning light across the Golden Horn. I've been reading John Freely's Istanbul: The Imperial City, and I highly recommend it. It's very well written and full of pictures (miniatures, photographs) for the visually inclined. He alludes to many of the great classical works about and from Istanbul. I was particularly drawn to Elivya, a religious scholar who was attached to Sultan Murat I and his court. An extract of a procession is as follows:

"All these guilds pass in wagons or on foot, with the instuments of their handicraft, and are busy with great noise at their work. The Carpenters prepare wooden houses, the Builders rasie walls, the Woodcutters pass with loads of trees, the Sawyers pass sawing them, the Masons whiten their shops, the Chalk-Makers crunch chalk and whiten their faces, playing a thousand tricks... The Toy-Makers of Eyup exhibit on wagons a thousand rifles and toys for children to play with."

Another place, another time. Take a walk through these doors once in a while, even if it's all just in your imagination.

Ah to be an illuminator at the palace!

It's on my little list...

2008-06-29T16:12:00.018+08:00

Before I begin my little preamble about the Mikado, I'd first like to give a shout out to Fairuz, or who I should soon be calling Dr. Cousin. Remember to enjoy your course and to never lose sight of you - who you are and what shoes you wear. Keep it real, I know you will. :)

And now back to the Mikado. It's one of those things that's constantly on my mind - background music, if you will. It really is a masterpiece, in terms of music, lyrics and all the rest of it. It tells the story of Nanki-Poo, a wand'ring minstrel who plays in the Titipu town band. He's in love with Yum-Yum who's the ward and fiancee of the Lord High Executioner, Ko-Ko (who quite luckily rose to such a rank after being reprieved from his own death sentence). Yum-Yum, bless her, is in love with Nanki-Poo too. Here they are doing things they would never do...

Keeping in mind that this is feudal Japan, the Mikado has decreed that all those who flirted leer'd or winked, unless connubially linked, should forthwith be beheaded. Now, not a welcoming prospect for the young lovers! We soon find out Nanki-Poo's little secret - he is actually the son of the Mikado! He assumed the disguise of a minstrel when his engagement to Katisha (who has a caricature of face!) was forced upon him. Now how shall we get out of this dilemma? Ta-da! The Mikado issues a decree to Ko-Ko instructing him to execute somebody if not the town of Titipu will be reduced to a village... Seeing that he's already been condemned to death before, he becomes the first choice of the town officials (Poo-Bah is after all the Lord High Chancellor, Master of the Rolls, Chancellor of the Exchequer... you get the picture). Here they are, accompanied by Pish-Tush (Poo-Bah's the overbearing one while Ko-Ko's the one in the middle, in case you were wondering!):

He finds a willing substitute in Nanki-Poo who agrees to be the victim if he can marry Yum-Yum for a month. But all hell breaks lose when Katisha comes to Titipu in search of Nanki-Poo! She threatens to reveal his true identity, but with some help from Yum-Yum, she fails... but threatens to return with the Mikado! Ooo I don't think Kat's very happy about all this:

In the second act, Yum-Yum and Nanki-Poo prepare to marry...when Ko-Ko enters with some law - once a husband is beheaded, his wife is burried alive! It really dampens the mood, as you can imagine, and here's Nanki-Poo, Yum-Yum and Ko-Ko contemplating the delicateness of their situation.

And with the Mikado on his way, Ko-Ko assumes that he may want to see that an execution had taken place. While everyone's scratching their heads (or rather wigs...), they come up with an idea. Bing! Poo-Bah will declare that Nanki-Poo has already been beheaded when in actuality, he'll marry Yum-Yum and disappear! Oh bother Yum-Yum! Nanki-Poo and Ko-Ko come to an arrangement...

Marvelous...except that the Mikado is looking for his son and not to check if someone had been executed. And you can of course imagine the madness that ensues when Ko-Ko presents the document saying that Nanki-Poo had been beheaded. The Mikado takes the news somewhat calmly but declares that the punishment for killing the heir apparent has boiling oil in it... Hmmm. Here's the Mikado gleefully talking about boiling oil, to Ko-Ko, Poo-Bah and Pitti-Sing (Yum-Yum's sister, one of the three little maids from school!), and you can see Katisha sternly looking on.

How to resurrect Nanki-Poo without Katisha's claims on him? Ko-Ko goes to him and relates the trouble. Bing! Another idea! Ko-Ko must woo Katisha so that she'd marry Ko-Ko instead. With his best suit and maybe even some flowers, he chances upon her (and her wrath) and woos her with all his charm. He surprisingly succeeds and he is married to her. They present themselves to the Mikado, who had gone to eat before the impending execution of Ko-Ko. Katisha pleads for his life before the Mikado. Her case is helped when Nanki-Poo appears together with Yum-Yum. The Mikado is pleased to see his son again and general rejoicement ensues! Katisha's a little pissed at Ko-Ko but after some elbow-kissing, all ends well.

Just a note! All the pictures where the players are in traditional Japanese costume are from the D'oyly Carte Company production of the Mikado. I actually grew up with this and it retains a special place in my heart. The pictures that have the players in 20s costume are taken from Jonathan Miller's production. I was very fortunate to catch this earlier this year and I consider it an absolute masterpiece.

And my little review can be viewed here!
http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/stage/opera/article3308130.ece

Things We Learn

2008-06-19T19:07:00.003+08:00

I had the recent good opportunity to visit a children's home in Cheras. You may have passed it once or twice, or even every time you go home or go to work. I know I have. But this time, I paid the place a visit. It's simplyamazing that there is a place for these abandoned, orphaned children (some babies). These are children that were unwanted at birth but have been rescued from their dire circumstances and are now loved, by the dedicated staff that man the place (though most are women!). We are not aware of the good these people do, and the home they provide to those who are not as fortunate as us who do have homes.

Humanity still exists then, despite all.

On a lighter note, I've become quite a fan of Sandi Toksvig. If you get the chance, check her out or listen to her show on BBC Radio 4. Here she is, folks!

Ah isn't she lovely!

Stop the campaign of conspiracy theory

2008-05-02T08:12:00.002+08:00

As the title says. Rumour is running rampant.

I am not concerned with pet theories nor political insinuations. My priority is my father.

We have the truth on our side. We have the facts. And we know my father is innocent. That is my campaign. Not to spread further rumours nor hate.

May the truth prevail and may justice be the only judge. Not politics or gossip.

Thank you.

This blog is a personal one that I share with my friends and family. This is not a place for rumour nor negativity.

Like they do in the movies...

2008-04-25T04:01:00.005+08:00

I'm talking to you Humphrey, I'm thinking of you Ingrid,
I've always wanted to eat Chinese from a white box,
I've dreamt of using a hairclip to pick locks.
I know for a fact: Germans are known as Hans and Siegfried.

Could life be like the movies?
Where we fly to New York at 3 o clock.
That we could pull of a red sock
With blue shoes and pink hair
That we could be pretty and fair.

Can we meet on the top of the empire state building,
Where we'll meet just in time and have that happy ending.
Life could be fun definitely.
And we could live decently.
Well more than decently.
More like, fantastically!

Can we live like they do in the movies,
Where our speech is rehearsed and we move on cues.
Where we live in dreams and never get hurt.
Where we are never rude, evil or curt.
Where every disease had cures.
Not just one but two,three and four.
Where love was a never ending galore.

Aliens and Shakespeare don't gel as well as you'd think...

2008-03-27T23:18:00.004+08:00

Hey there Mulder,
How're you doing Scully,
I guess you should've told'er,
That questions are my folly.
Have you got each other on speed dial?
Would you both go the extra mile?
Have you got me on a file?
Do you think Trish thinks me mad,
That I've got the shipper bug this bad?
Stay cool and always have fun,
Even if you're only on reruns.

Peace out, agents.

Read Sontag but Listen to the Mikado

2008-02-03T17:58:00.000+08:00

Yes that is my deifinition of a day in paradise. Ms Sontag has opened my horizons to new, albeit at times disturbing, thoughts. A wonderful writer - don't know when we'll see the likes of her again. But perhaps we won't and she'll remain the unique Sontag. As I think she should be kept in our literary hearts. I admire her bravery, her mind and her beauty. Soldier on, Sontag. Bet you're still writing somewhere out there.

Last night, Mum and I did the naturally art-farty thing and went to the opera. We dressed up, you'd better believe it. And when the music began, I knew I was going through the seven levels of Heaven. The stage was amazing and the performance simply stunning. I rested my chin on my hand and just oohed and ahhed. I gnashed my teeth and drew a sigh as it were. I grew up with the Mikado, you must understand. To see it live, was really something. I'm still in the audience, my eyes filled with such sights. Such sights indeed!

Taking on the challenge of London

2008-02-02T20:19:00.000+08:00

Sontag-tolerant and best friend, Trish came down to London last week. Besides receiving excellent hosting skills by me, I can safely say we had a grand old time. I shall tell the story with pictures and my undoubtedly talented writing skeels. skills. yes.

We watched and it was an excellent, thoughtful film. Although Trish lamented the premature death of the crab thing at the end. Alas food that could have filled our tummies!

We took a turn around and saw the lovely shops still closed. But we had a mission that day! I brought Trish to SOAS where she all but worshipped the law section, full of legal stuff. Beats me but she enjoyed it and that was fine by me! Onward to the British museum where we took in the knowledge and the taste of history at its purest:

We took a train to Covent Garden where we had a delightful picnic lunch, despite the blistering cold. Then on to the National Gallery (where we said hello to my man Vincent) and to the National Portrait Gallery (Vanity Fair, bring it on!). We then walked by Pall Mall (and it was a lovely cold Summer-like day) but took a cab home. No evening in London was complete without a night to the theatre. And indeed that was what we did! The 39 steps, no less.

Without a doubt, a great day in London. Come down more often, Trish. Bob, D, Jufi and I will show you a good time. As always.

Razak Baginda, in the mire and tired of it.

2008-01-24T15:51:00.000+08:00

I have been silent long enough and been good but allow me this moment of standing up verbally. I think we Malaysians are selective on who is innocent. Have you heard of Razak Baginda? He is my father. He has faced a trial. Correction, he is facing a trial. People call it a farce. Then I put it to you that his year in prison is also a farce. This counts for nothing apparently. No one realises this, we conveniently ignore this fact. I mean, who thinks prison is glamarous anyway? Me talking to my father through a glass is not so glamarous either. I am personally disappointed, not to mention angry at this selectiveness. I think we should be honest with ourselves. An innocent man can come in many forms. Be surprised that Razak Baginda is innocent.

Because he is.

Wake up.

Heath Ledger, ladies and gents

2008-01-24T04:26:00.000+08:00

You can imagine my dismay at the news today. I did not expect this one at all. Poor guy.

A real lost to the fim industry. Not only a respectable and talented actor, but a brave one too. I'm going to miss seeing him on the silver screen, although I don't think his films will be as mortal. He's the new James Dean, the forever young soul. The senstive, quiet but extremely gifted actor. (Hey he made me cry during that last scene of Brokeback Mountain). I was really quite shocked and I hope that his family are allowed, to mourn what must be a devastating loss, in peace. Reach for the stars, Heath.

Bearers of the cross & the crescent: Travels to the Levant

2008-01-22T15:59:00.000+08:00

Just taking a break from essays to write a little about how I feel about the Crusades. You know that whole Kingdom of Heaven thing. I've been submerged in it for the last week and I get how this can get so addictive! I just want to go to the Levant (Palestine & Syria) in my shorts, boots, linen short and climb rocks. And imagine what it was like to be a knight on his steed or a soldier of the crescent at his watchtower.

History heaven.

Say Milk, Not Cheese.

2008-01-09T19:07:00.000+08:00

Leibovitz inspires me. The world will keep turning as long as there's art.

She is touching and her pictures are moving. I guess art goes beyond paint and canvas and photographs speak to us in a familiar language. We're all fluent in it. Her pictures are warm and for a moment, I feel as if I'm living in those moments. Like an archaeologist and a historian. I think her new book's wonderful too (thanks, Mum&Father!). I like getting lost in the frames.

To as long as she keeps taking pictures! I think it'd be lovely to be as fresh as a Leibovitz.

Bienvenue, 2008.

2008-01-01T08:28:00.000+08:00

Today, it dawns with a new beginning, a not-so-false sense of hope and renewal. Besides my sorethroat, which has resulted in a very sexy voice (dare I say, sexier than before?). Needless to say, I shall be making more phonecalls and will be unnecessarily talking too much.

I'm not going to review 2007 - it would take several blogs and far too much typing. Just to get from January to June. After all, another year gone is nothing new. So instead (and because I don't really do New Year Resolutions, but it's perfectly alright if you do) I'm going to wish everyone around the world a very happy new year (2008) and may it be special for everyone, in every possible way. I think we all deserve it. Bless. Happy New Year? Let's make it so.

Oh and to Family and Trish, thanks for welcoming 2008 with me (even if we may have been a few minutes off - bad Josephine clock - although one never is quite off...).

I am no activist, but I am human enough

2007-12-27T22:33:00.000+08:00

In a world that is contantly reminded of violence and war, we are forced to remember yet again. Benazir Bhutto has just been killed by an assassin's bullet. We live in turbulent times and for one who has seen such tenacity and tragedy with such bravado, as she has in her lifetime, I salute her. Nay, I bow from the waist down to her memory and the hope of a better future. Sincere condolences to her family, especially her children.

We're going to be waking up to a lot of uncertainty tomorrow. But I believe hope should and must prevail.

Ladies and gentlemen, Benazir Bhutto!

4 words, A Book-Film, Not Anna and the King

2007-12-25T01:04:00.000+08:00

Hey there! Thank you for a great evening - to everyone. It was lovely in its simplicty and its excellent company. Here are some of you, trying to be Carrot Top with a very big... carrot.

Again, thank you. Have a very merry christmas, everybody! And a big merry christmas to you Trish!

And about 2008? Let's hope it's a good one, as Lennon would say.

St George and the Dragon, revised.

2007-12-15T22:24:00.000+08:00

Here we are at this year's anime/manga exhibition. Fairuz and I took the train there and I rather enjoyed myself, truly did!

And this is me playing the defeated dragon to Maz's fearless St. George. Mercy, Maz, Mercy!

Fostering and Hopping over the Lambs who may or may not be Silent

2007-12-13T09:08:00.000+08:00

For the first time in my life, I watched Silence of the Lambs with my ever patient friend Trish. She knows as much as I do that the reason behind me watching the film was not concentrated on the thrilling storyline. Yes, it was for Antony Hopkins. He is such a talented actor and his general demeanour was parfait for the mad Dr. Lecter. Otherwise, I enjoyed his portrayal of the repressed butler in Remains of the Day. Anyway, back to Silence of the Lambs, I thought the poodle amazing and Ted Levine a brilliant actor. No one could portray the Drag Queen trapped inside a Hilly Billy role as best as him. Scott Glenn reminded me of a surgeon but still managed to capture the role of FBI Agent with extreme accuracy. Oh yeah and Ms. Foster was pretty good too.

The Darkest One & The Saviour

2007-12-12T07:01:00.001+08:00

There is one that shall not be named. And I think it amazing that you have been able to stand jufi (revised). Not to worry as jufi does not compare to your self-praises and declarations of being a better writer than Tolstoy, and a better composer than Tchaikovsky.

Mais alors tu ne peux parler francais et ca est malheurese. En plus, "quelqu'un" le parles tres bien et quand je l'ecoute, c'est comme je suis sur une arc en ciel.

So, not to worry as jufi is not on my skype list and you are!

A Rose is A Rose is A Rose is a What? I've forgotten forgotten.

2007-12-10T07:47:00.001+08:00

Dear Ms Stein and Ms Toklas,

Hello, I'm from the 21st Century and don't let this advanced time fool you. I actually think we are no different from the age of conquest, medieval torture and such like. I'm a student of History you see. Anyway, I quite like your book. It makes me laugh and have faith in things we tend to take for granted sometimes. You know things such as humanity. So thanks for writing it. Thanks to both of you because I guess like a pen and its cover, one can't come without the other. Unless you're a click-y pen but I doubt it.

Sincerely yours,

rowena

The ex-Commissar and the ex-Countess Dazzle Dazzle

2007-12-03T08:14:00.000+08:00

The good old days when films of romance, adventure, idealism and perfect hair could get away with it.

'Knight Without Armour'. Ah they certainly don't make them like they used to!

"no comment"

2007-11-16T05:11:00.000+08:00

Hey fairuz! This got me laughing quite a bit...

"you were very tender... at the laundromat"

2007-11-16T01:45:00.000+08:00

Easlily. One of the most amusing lines in any film I've ever seen.

But that reminds me of one of the most amusing days I've had. Not to mention the most fun. I went upside down and got my brains to my chest and screamed so hard my jaws hurt. It was wonderful. Thank you Julia and Fairuz for a lovely day. Pictures because pictures give our memories something to smile about.

Count to Ten, Make a Wish, Blow the Candles, Cut the Cake, Kiss the Air and Have a Very Merry Birthday

2007-11-07T23:49:00.000+08:00

Dearest Trishelea,

You have now been mentioned 3 times here. However that is a gross understatement of the countless times you have been a true friend to me. And with my hand to my heart, let me wish you (for the 5th time) happy birthday. You are now 20 years old and with many years spread out ahead of you. I know that you will always make wise decisions and make your life continuously meaningful. However, when you have become undisputed master of the universe, remember me, pick up the phone and give me a call so we can have coffee (and even chicken liver with mandarin orange peels) and we'll talk of the world's problems, past wonders, religion, whether jodie foster is gay or not, and why we're still friends after so long (which honestly has a simple answer). Looking forward to it. And here's to to the past and to the future years. Salut!

Thank you again for simply being a part of my life. You have certainly enriched me in a way that only very few have. And for that, I am forever grateful. Now go have a great time!

Reference and footnotes of glory

2007-10-28T16:47:00.000+08:00

I've been working at a near fever pace to finish as many essays as possible. Successful? Not terribly. Oh well. The dilemma of a historian.

I'm thinking seriously of becoming a professional historian/archaeologist (have I even spelt that correctly?). I remember talking to Soon Tzu about it. Me. Blue cotton short, linen shorts, red handkerchief tied around my neck, blue shades, in some desert (or dare I say underwater in the Alexandria Bay?). Live in some apartment in a square in Marakkesh. Very tempting...

Hey someone's birthday's coming up! I wonnndeerrrr who eh Trish? (this brings your name count to a glittering 2)

Time is in the oven, baking,

2007-10-23T04:03:00.000+08:00

Has it already been almost 3 weeks at SOAS?

I like it here. I can't wait to be here with everyone. :)

Warmest greetings to you all.

Watch this site Trish!

2007-10-22T06:55:00.000+08:00

And be stunned with its magnificence.

"Let Rome and Tiber melt for this is my space"

2007-10-20T01:41:00.000+08:00

Dear friends,

You must forgive me for this most overdue post. I have been busy settling down and have had no proper internet access. But here I am, my dears.

It's history fever now.

How are you?

Paddle Boats and Wellington Boots

2007-09-14T11:13:00.000+08:00

I had a grand old day with Maz and Julia at Petrosains. Helicopter rides, brain wave duels, singing T-Rex, Maz Maz the aliens are attacking abandon ship, and all those delightful memories that make good daydreams.

Me up up up in Space

Maz and Jules on an Oil rig

Time travel a little for me, if you'd please...

2007-09-02T23:03:00.001+08:00

31 August 2007

Happy Merdeka, Malaysia.

2007-09-02T22:50:00.000+08:00

It's now 10.55 pm, the start of a new month. It's been raining all today, and if it wasn't raining, it was drizzling. Still, nice weather for writing, listening to music, falling in love, walking, painting, sketching, reading, falling down and getting up again.

Oh yes! Saw 'System of Cikgu Tuko' twice. Really enjoyed it! Well done, Farah.

Shout out: Good luck to Julia and Mazuina and Haddy for their upcoming exams!

Listening to 'The Mikado' and wearing mismatched socks.

The Spiritual Leader of The Nation would be surprisingly good for you

2007-08-29T21:44:00.001+08:00

A short tribute to Eva Peron I thought would be appropriate to mark her contribution to a nation, as well as to women around the world. Here you had a woman, who dedicated herself to a cause (fascist leanings it had however) and quite literally, worked herself to death for it. Rallying behind her husband, Juan Peron ('the nerve of the Argentine People'), she campaigned wholeheartedly for women's political rights, for her descamisados ('the shirtless ones'), for the impoverished (through her foundacion) during her unfortunately short life time. One may not agree with her politically (fascism, her bid to be vice president), but you cannot deny the hope and joy she brought to the downtrodden Argentine People.
She was so rooted in Peronist soil, that the movement died with her.

Requiem et pace, Evita.

So I was thinking...

2007-08-20T19:49:00.000+08:00

I just want to Because I feel likeAnd I always
About you.

at least you haven't got any cobwebs...ooo a spider!

2007-08-16T19:49:00.000+08:00

Is love overrated? Do we put in too much effort into people who are emotionally blind? Am I starting to sound like whatshername from Sex and the City? What is love to begin with? Can we touch it? Can we be it? Can we be in it?

So many questions perhaps prevents a lot of us from having love lives. Or maybe it's just me. Lol.

But, seriously folks. I think there is a love out there for everybody. One that works. Finally.

Don't tempt me now

2007-08-10T22:23:00.000+08:00

Hello! Been ever so tired. Sigh. Oh here are the lyrics of a song I heard in the background of a show I was watching today.Could this be a wayof writin without really using brain power? Could be,could be. Enjoy, nevertheless.

"Blunt" by Wild Strawberries

I don't want to be beautiful
No one ever hears her speak
I don't want to be a diplomat
With a heart attack for peace

All that I need is a fire escape
All that I need is a stone
Everything that starts out burning
Ends up overgrown

I don't want to be an astronaut
I've flown higher on my own
I don't want to be a movie star
I don't need to be alone

All that I need is a blunt excuse
All that I need is a ruse
Everything that starts off burning
Ends up feeling used

I don't want to be president
There's some things I'd like to keep
I don't want to be a nightingale
I don't need to feel that cheap

All that I need is an antidote
All that I need is a muse
Everything that starts off burning
Ends up feeling used

2007-08-08T22:43:00.000+08:00

Will it be ok?
Queen-Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon
How are you feeling today?
My Fair Lady Cast-On the Street Where You Live
How do your friends see you?
Snow Patrol-You Could be Happy
Will you get married?
Feist-Gatekeeper
What is your best friend's theme song?
Paul McCartney-Listen to what the man said
What is the story of your life?
Robbie Williams-It's de-lovely
What was high school like?
My Fair Lady Cast-A Hymm to Him
How can you get ahead in life?
David Essex-Oh What a Circus
What is the best thing about your friends?
Cyndi Lauper-What's Going On
What is today going to be like?
Chet Baker-My Funny Valentine
What is in store for this weekend?
Snow Patrol-The Finish Line
What song describes you?
The Killers-Exitlude
How is your life going?
David Bowie-Fame
What song will they play at your funeral?
Oasis-Wonderwall
How does the world see you?
Byrds-Mr Tambourine Man
Will you have a happy life?
Blink 182-Story of a Lonely Guy
What do your friends really think of you?
All American Rejects-Time Stands Still
Do people secretly lust after you?
Phantom of the Opera Cast-Wishing You were somehow here again (Shall I come again then?)
How can I make myself happy?
Tracy Chapman-Fast Car
What should you do with your life?
The Mikado-Three Little Maids
Will you ever have children?
Sade-Please Send Me Someone to Love

Good Luck, Fairuz!

2007-08-05T21:08:00.000+08:00

So, your exams are coming up eh? You go girl!

Autobots, transform and roll out!

The Hummingbird

2007-08-04T22:32:00.000+08:00

Josephine, Empress and Queen

She rests above my piano, eternally dignified - a true Empress. But who was she really? The Rose of Martinique? The Hummingbird to Napoleon's Sword? Was their divorce really the end of Napoleon? It cannot be denied that, chronologically, the decline of his glorious empire began not too long after he divorced her to marry Marie-Louise. Our Josephine died of a broken heart when her former husband, Emperor was sent into exile. He died with her name on his lips. Her life was unique and her person a fascinating figure in Modern History.

Here's to you, Josephine.

Choo Choo!

2007-07-26T23:08:00.000+08:00

Public transport, anyone?

Tuxedos and Heels

2007-07-24T21:25:00.000+08:00

Heels because I don't know how to spell stilettos. Lol.

How have you all been? I am now back online! Yes. Civilisation, hello.

Tell me where it hurts, Garbage.

2007-06-27T22:19:00.000+08:00

What is my day going to look like?
What will my tomorrow bring me?
If I had x-ray eyes, I could see inside
I wouldn’t have to predict the future

I wish that you would do with some talking
How else am I to know what you’re thinking?
If only people would say what it really was
What it really was
What it really was that they wanted

Tell me where it hurts
to hell with everybody else
All I care about is you and that's the truth
They don't love me; I can tell
But you do, so they can go to hell

Did they ever give you a reason
To believe in something different
If you’re looking for love, for what it's worth
I have plenty of it lying around here somewhere

If you are looking for disappointment
You can find it around any corner
In the middle of the night I hold on to you tight
So both of us can feel protected

Tell me where it hurts,
to hell with everybody else.
All I care about is you and that's the truth
they don't love me; yeah I can tell
but you do, so they can go to hell

I’ve been loved but I didn’t know how to feel it
And I’ve been adored but I don’t know if I ever believed it
I’ve been loved my whole life but I didn’t know how to take it
Until...

So tell me where it hurts
to hell with everybody else
All I care about is you and that's the truth
they don't love me, yeah I can tell
But you do, so they can go to hell
But you do, so they can go to hell

Tell me where it hurts
Tell me where it hurts
Tell me where it hurts now
Tell me where it hurts...

Piercings and Barbie

2007-06-24T11:42:00.000+08:00

Sorry about not writing - been busy! Not to mention a lack of internet connection at home. Hope all is well with you. I'm doing okay! Thanks for all your kind thoughts and words.

More sex and less aliens!

2007-06-15T09:41:00.000+08:00

Umfufu.

Shit I just poured coffee on my white pants. White. Not any other colour. I've got excellent table manners when I'm wearing coffee-coloured trousers/skirts. Oh but when I wear white. Ah.

What if there were no Hitler....

2007-06-12T11:15:00.000+08:00

If Hitler had ended up as a bartender in a Bavarian bar, things would have been totally different.

Post WW1 Germany would be under short-term Chancellors. Some ineffectual, some old. The economy would have been slow and people would still be buying bread with wheelbarrows of deutschmarks. However, the general world ecoonomy would pick up and things would settle. There'll be a somewhat stable government with fairly competent leaders, in the end. Hindenburg would kick the bucket and they'll find some Berchtold-type person (preferbly ex-General with a moustache). And things will flow on as usual. They'll continue producing Porsches and Mercedes Benzes (no Volkswagens though...). Socialist governments and no Berlin Wall. No Cold War even. No Medal of Honour games. Unless some other Hitler-type guy takes the cue and it'll be Heil Klinkerhoffen instead. Because you could argue that the time was ripe for national socialism, remember Mussolini (oh and if there were no Hitler, Italy would be like Franco's Spain, if he played his cards right). There will be no WW2. Stalin was non-expansionist anyway. And no Nuremburg trials.

Hitler becomes one of the most competetive bar-owner in Germany and eventually finds his own lager company, BlondiBeer, with the help of an excellent marketing manager, Josef Goebbels. Hitler marries Eva Braun much earlier than 1945 but they have no children.

Pepper at no. 207 while thinking about menus on a table in a restaurant series.4

2007-06-12T11:09:00.000+08:00

One of Fairuz's many Artistic Pictures

Not bad, eh?

Dali Dali Dali

2007-06-07T13:25:00.001+08:00

Finalement, je comprends.

SurrealismmsilaerruSDaliilaDSalvadorrodavlaS

2007-06-01T17:22:00.000+08:00

He can make sex artistic, complicated, passionate, pure madness. He can paint your pain, and mirror your sorrow. Ladies and Gentlemen, Salvador Dali.

Lovely Evening

2007-05-30T21:54:00.000+08:00

Had a lovely evening with Farah and Helena today - two bright upcoming names in theatre so don't y'all forget them names word up.

Miss you, Fairuz. No one to bitch and eat afternoon tea with pasta with!

The room is finally finished (hope father will like it - am sure he will). Love the floor. I could dine on it, with it even. Smells of woodpolish and varnish. Delish...

Not really saying much tonight. Just one or two words. Night Night! May write later though... Hmmmm. I think the mushroom soup is getting to me. It was so thick, it looked like someone puked in my bowl. But tasty though.

Good luck Fairuz

2007-05-28T08:57:00.001+08:00

Have lots of fun and all the best! It's only a week and then I'll take you to Delicious (more afternoon tea and pasta, of course?)

Wait until she starts quoting you Stein...

2007-05-21T10:47:00.000+08:00

My grandmother has accepted gay people, transvestites, transsexuals. They are still people and I find it wrong when certain people find them repulsive or even, sub-human. Since when did they become so self-righteous. I rather have people who are gay and kind, than straight and mean. I cannot understand why it's so terrible anyway. Gay people are people too. They have feelings and are driven by emotions, ambition and the desire to love and be loved. Gay Liberation Now!

Nothing beats a good...

2007-05-19T18:31:00.000+08:00

Yes indeed that's right! I have had a wonderful _______. It was really very good. Not often one gets such a good_______. It's so liberating.

You wan good time with us? Five dolla? Two dolla osso can.

2007-05-15T23:30:00.000+08:00

Fairuz and I trying out our new outfits for those evenings out at our favourite corner. Don't we look delish.

It was a lovely evening but...

Fairuz: Teringin sangat pie beef tu.
Waiter: Sori ya tapi beef pie sudah habis.

Don't you just hate when things like that happen? Makes you wonder why you love that beef pie so much. Happens to me on a daily basis. Other than that, Jones was formidable company. Oh and who cares about the pool.... Mum was funny just now:

Mum: Oh you have a nice round head, row. When you were young, I made you sleep on your face so that your head would be nice and round and so that your fat face wouldn't be so prominent.

Thanks, mum. I think her tactic only resulted in a flatter brain. Lol. Not bad though, eh?

Springtime for Hitler: A Gay Romp With Eva and Adolph at Berchtesgaden

2007-05-14T17:53:00.000+08:00

Who wouldn't want a musical named after them? Eh, Eva? Eh, Adi?

Happy 13th, wherever you are, whoever you are now.

2007-05-13T22:32:00.000+08:00

I miss you.

Fernando & Gordon's Drive-time Circus

2007-05-13T21:38:00.000+08:00

I think that inside of us, is a camp man waiting to pounce out and claw his way into the kitty-kat ways of life. Whatever that means...

On today's adventure, Fairuz and I discovered our camp sides. Fernando & Gordon (that's me, darling). And no Fernando & Gordon could come without their poolboy, Jones (but considering the condition of the pool, one wonders...) who leads a double life as the Drag-queen Fairuz.

You know I have this dress that would look so good on you. Have you done modeling before?

Looking for...

Slurp.

Everybody hurts sometimes

2007-05-12T22:47:00.000+08:00

X Files, Revisited

2007-05-12T22:38:00.000+08:00

Ever had that thing where you re-watch something you really loved as a kid? Besides a bizarre fascination with Erwin Rommel, I enjoyed watching the X-Files. I think I was secretly attracted to Mulder and Scully's relationship. Cool dynamics. Sexual tension and aliens. Lots of aliens.

Scully: Not everything is about you, Mulder.

Bring me to your leader

2007-05-09T21:05:00.000+08:00

On our many adventures, Fairuz and I wandered into a shop in BV2 today. When we were suddenly surrounded by clothes that talk and dance naked under the winter solstice moon.

Satisfied customers.

Weaved dresses in brown straw (for the High Priests), faded leapord skin shirts that reach to the knees (for Sacrifices) and the Flinstones' wardrobe (for midnight meetings). Everything an ordinary cult member needs.

Shout out: Good luck for the exams Trish. You can do it, more than you think you know.

Finally, the rain has come/More Butlerism

2007-05-09T12:00:00.000+08:00

After so many days (seems like years) of drought-like weather, it has finally rained. Besides the humidity, it is actually rather beautiful. There is much romanticism in these drops of water. Had breakfast with mum and managed to take in the cool air.

I am wearing my tartan skirt, white shirt and father's purple tie. I feel okay today.

Niles Niles Niles Niles Niles Niles Niles Niles Niles Niles Niles Niles Niles Niles Niles
(continue on until page is full, thank you.)

Butlerism

2007-05-08T22:45:00.000+08:00

Had a nice evening. Thanks Fairuz.

I have this thing for a butler. He cooks, cleans, looks so darn sexy in an apron and suit, speaks well, is witty. Ah. I could daydream about him all day. I think I dream about him at night too. He's like a piece of art I could admire all day. Oh but he's so so so funny.

CC: What do I have to do to get some milk around here?

Niles: Hover over a bucket.

Fran: What is this, foreplay?

Oh the very charm of it all.

Weird Al

2007-05-08T21:58:00.000+08:00

Hot Hot Piece of Crumpet ~ Where have you been all my life? ~ You sex symbol, you !

I've always thought him terribly clever and witty. Hot, yes a little. That hair. That moustache. That video of "Fat". But I never realised how hot he REALLY was until I saw "The Saga Begins". Oh be still my beating heart.