Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Because I don't simply throw coins at a pauper

There was an article I read a few months ago with the title "Why is the child sleeping in the arms of a beggar." Although the source an authenticity of the writing is questionable, the points written worth a little attention and perhaps, more contemplation. I don't have kids myself, but I have lived with my nephews and nieces. Kids, being themselves, at such age, they don't sleep all day long. They run around and cry. Remember the last time you walked past a beggar with a child. What was the little child doing. Sleeping? And try to recall a couple of times before the last times you walk past them. Was the little creature sleeping too? Next time, you might want to try remembering the child's face, and see for yourself if the next time you walk past the same mother weather its the same child sleeping on her lap. It was mentioned in the article, from an investigation (insertyourskepticismhere) , the children were drugged to keep them asleep and in some cases, they died. So the child will be replaced with another one, kidnapped from some unlucky mothers who fed and clad them well and let them run around instead of sleeping all day long on the street.

Remember the last time you went to mamak with your buddies and they were a visually impared pakcik and a lady in baju kurung and tudung came around asking for some change? And next, you were having a lunch at a stall in the midst of KL rushing hour and the pakcik and the lady in baju kurung came for more donations and it seems to be a recurring coincidence that you wonder if they've been stalking you until it occured to you, its a different couple every time  And, one of these days when you find yourself having a little extra minutes to mind other people's business, ask the lady in baju kurung how is she related to the pakcik. I am quite positive the answer would be "I am the wife". So its a trend now to have a wife dragging their blind husband around town to make a living. Is this the image of a healthy society? Have it never crossed your mind that they might not be operating independently? With every dollar given, do you think you are really helping this blind pakcik or are you feeding some fat-ass mafia who is practically manipulating the less-fortunate ones to feed their greed. A modern form of human slavery, clad in the name of charity.

I like the idea of building more and more schools along with improving the quality of our teachers, as I always believe we need to have less children in a class so every child will get more attention from the  teacher. Thus, at  every opportunity, we should all take part in this, because improving the quality of education is working towards a better future for our children, my children. But, having a 12 years old boy walking around town or  knocking door to door asking for donation to build a new madrasah in a remote Kedah suburb, on a Wednesday morning when all the other children his age are in school is not what I had in mind. The organizer seems to be rich enough to bring the boys all the way to KL from Kedah, provide food and accommodation to do the collection albeit in dire need of money to build a new two storey blocks portrayed in a worn out pictured carried in the boy pockets with a title Sekolah Tahfiz written in Arabic calligraphy.  How can you build a  school at the expense of another child's education? Ain't that boy supposed to be in school. Why is he begging on the street at this hour? "So boy, you are from this so called need-expansion sekolah tahfiz, now recite to me surah Al-Baqarah verses 10-25. Or easy, how about one of the surah in the last juz'. An-Naba' perhaps?" ....and see, how he startles... 

Fellow Malaysians, are these the image of our dream society? Or am I the weird one who finds all the aforementioned scenarios are such a social nuisance. Do I hate paupers? No, I don't. Some of them are really poor and in dire need of help and life being life, has given them no other choice but to beg on the street. Nevertheless, I am skeptical about whose hands are actually receiving the money. Could it be that, instead of helping the needy ones, we are feeding the begging syndicates... and I strongly believe, this industry survived, because we Malaysians are too generous.....

...and maybe because the government is not trying hard enough....what do you readers think?


Can we expect changes after The General Election, regardless whoever wins.


Throw a vote for the right one. So latter you do not have to worry if you're throwing money at the deserving ones.... or not. Cheers.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Dear Saturday.

It's one of those weekends when I don't feel very well. Health is one of those blessings that you only realise when it's gone away. And I sit here in my little cradle with a cup of tea that often turns cold before my third sip.
Dearest tea, you've gone cold too soon.
who is going to warm up the aching pores of my old soul now.
Heat up.

I look out through the sliding door in my balcony and notice a little bird poop on it. It is white like toothpaste, but disgusting because it is a poop. Most of us, would agree that poop is disgusting.
Dear birdie, I love your songs but your business here, is not welcome.

I hear a faint cry of a lawn mower. I imagine the lawn mower man wearing a budenovka to cover up his head from the heat, with a towel underneath the cap, covering half of his face and absorbing his gracefully falling drops of sweat.
Thank you for doing a job that most of us refuse to do. I hope you love your job like I love mine. 

I hear a sound of metal pots clicking. I guess the neighbour has started cooking lunch. It's nearly afternoon. I wonder if I should start cooking too. It's very challenging to cook for one person. There is always a bowl of soup left, a few scoops of rice sticking at the pot, half of the omelette untouched, half loaf of bred gone mouldy, I don't want a house-mate though. I just need someone to eat with.
Thank you neighbour, for reminding me of the time.

I caught myself fan-gazing again. My head is running wild. It takes me to a pretty face of an admiring lady I met, a very respectable and successful lady. She has all my respect for the knowledge and working attitude. Oh how I adore her entertaining bubbly character. Then, I learn that she is struggling with her married life.
Life. Stop reminding me that I cannot have everything.


Dear Saturday, how many fail attempts does it take before someone decides to really really really give up?

Monday, April 1, 2013

Back!

Bismillah....

April it is now. I can hardly remember the last time I wrote anything here and what kind of fuss was it. haha. Anyways, yeah... I've been busy with technically everything. From settling to a new home, adjusting with a new workplace, learning the traffic, reviving my cooking talent (assuming it existed in the past) to getting to know new people as well those I might have known in the past. At some point of life you might be brought back to where you were once, it could be you might end up working at your school, university, hometown, you might end up working with your schoolmates or just simply meeting them again in a casual gathering after, say 10 years. When this happens, as for me, I take it as a new experience, those familiar places and faces are as strange as anything/one new. Things change, people change after all. And as the saying goes, the only constant thing in life is; change.

Speaking of change, have you ever felt like something inside yourself is changing or growing. Not physically, perhaps spiritually. You can hardly comprehend or justify, but you know something is going on. You become more acceptable to many things yet remain selective. If you are quite a giver, you finally learn to hold on. The curiosity you once had when you were little, now revisit in a different form, dressed in an agreement to disagree. This is hard, I can't even find the words to say.

oh! Perhaps this is what moving on is like.... or perhaps, I am just getting old. haha


A'la kulliha, Allahu musta'an. ;)

will write again soon inshaAllah.