Saturday, November 29, 2008


It's my birthday tomorrow and I don't feel like celebrating. It's not that I feel that I'm too old for that sort of celebration. In fact, I can always give young people half my age a run for their money when it comes to having fun and letting my hair down. It's just that I've been infected with CHIKV or better known as Chikungunya virus. Me of all people! Can you believe that? I was unable to get out of bed for two days and all my joints ached. I did not feel like eating at all and had to depend on fruits for energy since everything tasted bitter. I had mild rashes all over my arms and my head throbbed like hell. I am still in shock actually. I don't usually get sick and I consider myself very health-conscious. I don't live in a mosquito-infested area and I spray my bedroom before I go to bed. Still, Murphy's law rules. What can go wrong, will go wrong. So, I'm taking a different approach to celebrate my birthday this year. I'm going to be a good boy and stay at home, take my medication, watch a little bit of television, reply whatever e-mail that is long-due and have my milk and cookies. Maybe next year, if I feel like it, I'll paint the town red or whatever colour that takes my fancy.

Thursday, November 13, 2008


One of my cats, Memey (not related to Memey Suhaiza who was caught with Norman Hakim by the anti-vice agency) gave birth to two kittens yesterday. I came home from work and she was nowhere to be found. I had my suspicions that she was about to give birth since she had been a little bit restless for the past two days. This is her second batch of kittens. The last time she gave birth, only one of her babies survived. I'm not sure whether her kittens will survive this time or not. Memey is a little bit small compared to other cats and to me, is still a baby. But I guess any creatures no matter what the size is, will start to mate once it reaches maturity (just like the human Memey). It's amazing and at the same time, ironic to see how animals know what to do instinctively and yet, humans, who are supposed to be superior than the animals, can sometimes be dense and thick.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008


I lost my cell phone yesterday and I'm really mad as hell. I can always get a new cellie but I hate losing all the numbers stored in it. I have a feeling who took it but I'm not the type to accuse anybody of doing anything without proof. The weird thing is it was only a day before that when a good friend of mine told me that his house was broken into. He was away at that time attending a wedding in his hometown so his place was left unattended. Not much was taken from his place but knowing that a stranger had access to his place when he was not around is enough to give him the creeps. A few weeks ago, an elderly neighbour of mine was taken for a ride around town before she was stripped off of her jewelry and belongings. She was later dropped off near a fast food restaurant still in a daze. As modern as I am, I believe there must be black magic involved in this. The crime rate is rising at a very alarming rate and I hate to think it is no longer safe for us to walk the street like we used to.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008


There'll be times
When my crimes
Will seem almost unforgivable
I give in to sin
Because you have to make this life liveable
But when you think I've had enough
From your sea of love
I'll take more than another riverful
And I'll make it worthwhile
I'll make your heart smile

Strange highs and strange lows
That's how my love goes
Will you give it to me
Will you take the pain
I will give to you
Again and again
And will you return it

There'll be days
When I'll stray
I may appear to be
Constantly out of reach
I give in to sin
Because I like to practise what I preach
I'm not trying to say
I'll have it all my way
I'm always willing to learn
When you've got something to teach
And I'll make it all worthwhile
I'll make your heart smile

Pain will you return it
I'll say it again - pain
Pain will you return it
I won't say it again

I give in
Again and again
I give in
Will you give it to me
I give in
I'll say it again
I give in

I give in
Again and again
I give in
That's how my love goes
I give in
I'll say it again
I give in

Monday, November 3, 2008


I have this book called "Collected Cat Stories" by Stella Whitelaw which I accidentally found in a secondhand bookstore in Ipoh. It contains 53 stories about cats ranging from the ordinary to the magical. Here I would like to share a story with those who share my love for cats. This one is called "Joint Custody."

She swept into the police station like a gust of autumn wind. Her streaky brown hair flew about her small round face, rustling like leaves, her bright brown eyes flashing with indignation.

'I believe you've got my cat,' she said, with a touch of haughtiness that added inches to her five foot nothing.

Sergeant Brady was used to strange requests, and they often concerned lost or strayed cats. However, there was a difference in this case, for indeed they did have a cat, a large marmalade cat at present eating fish and chips from the police canteen in the comfort of cell number five.

'A cat, madam? he said slowly, as if he had never heard of the species. Now how do we know if we have got your cat? Perhaps you would like to describe your cat.'

'He's beautiful with long fluffy fur and great big eyes and he can talk to you,' said Lisa all in one breath.

'Not much description to go on so far,' said Sergeant Brady, opening a ledger at a blank page.

'What colour would you say?'

'Russet...every shade from the deepest red mahogany to the palest creamy salmon.'

Sergeant Brady wrote down: 'One ginger cat.'

'Excuse me,'said a firm, aggressive masculine voice. 'But that's my cat you are talking about.'

The owner of the voice was a tall young man, not a single ginger hair on his city suit, carrying a leather brief-case with brass hinges, very expensive-looking and executive style.

Lisa sniffed. He did not look like the owner of a large ginger cat. He looked more like a small dog person.

'I think you must be mistaken,' she said crisply. 'Rubens definitely belongs to me and I've come to to take him home.'

'Although I'm sure you have lost a cat or not, Marmaduke is mine, and I've his travelling-basket in my car to prove it. We could match hairs.'

'Marmaduke?' Lisa scoffed. 'What a name.'

'No more unusual than Rubens,' the man said, dangerously cool. 'It is four weeks since I am home from a business trip and found my cat had disappeared. I will not say stolen. Merely disappeared.'

'Fancy going away and just leaving your cat. Disgraceful.'

'Left in good hands, I assure you, with my neighbours. He may have been lonely, but he was not neglected.'

'It is true that I have only had Rubens for a few weeks, but when I found him, he was lonely, friendless, starving and longing for a little love and affection,' said Lisa.

'Marmaduke is a born actor.'

'I took him in and he immediately put on weight.'

'Starch, merely starch. Now if you don't mind,' said Stephen Randolph turning to Sergeant Brady. 'I'd like to take my cat home.'

'But how do I know who this cat belongs to?' said Sergeant Brady. 'You both seem to have mislaid a large ginger cat.'

'It's definitely Rubens,' said Lisa.

'Positively Marmaduke,' said Stephen.

'Would you care to identify the incumbent?' Sergeant Brady offered, coming round to their side of the counter. He led them down a green-painted corridor and took a key from his watch-chain and opened the heavy-plated door at the far end.

'I always thought that cells were in the basement,' said Lisa, following the burly back of the sergeant.

'Only in films, madam. Our cells are on the ground floor. Number five, if you please. Allow me to unlock the door.'

The marmalade cat was curled up on a blanket on a bunk-bed, the shades of his reddish fur warmly glowing in the electric light. He had opened one eye sleepily as he heard footsteps coming along the corridor. His new home with bars across the window was strange and he did not know why he was there. He was hoping that someone would tell him.

'Oh, it is Rubens,' said Lisa with a cry.

The cat immediately leaped into her arms, hooking his claws into her hair, nuzzling under her chin, purring ecstatically. It was quite moving.

'There,' she said triumphantly. 'You can see he's mine.'

'That's Marmaduke,' said Stephen bluntly, clicking his fingers.

At the sound, the cat jerked his head round and began to struggle in Lisa's arms. He sprang to the floor and twisted himself round Stephen's ankles, arching his back and miaowing.

'Obvious, isn't it,' said Stephen.

They glared at each other, seeing nothing but the struggle for the ownership of a charismatic marmalade cat.

'I suggest you sort it out between you,' said Sergeant Brady. 'We only keep cats a short time and them we pass them on to the RSPCA. We're only waiting for the little fellow to be picked up by the inspector. Why don't you talk it over having a cup of coffee? There's a nice little cafe on the corner of the street.'

Lisa was seething with anger as Stephen steered her towards the cosy lights of the cafe. She crunched through the leaves scattered on the pavement, brittle red and gold under her feet. She tucked her hair into her collar and set her face determinedly.

'It's no use thinking that you are going to make me change my mind,' she said. 'I'm going to keep Rubens. He likes living with me.'

'I can well imagine that Marmaduke likes living with you. He adapts very easily," said Stephen smoothly. 'But the fact remains that he began living with me, and he should return to me.'

They did not speak as they stirred the froth into their cups of coffee. The silence hung in the steamy atmosphere, clinging to the mirrors and curling advertisements on the walls.

Lisa looked at the man carefully through her lashes and through the steam. He looked tired, jet-lagged perhaps. She met his eyes. He had been looking at her, noting the bright defiance in her eyes that hid some kind of hurt.

'Did you notice the way Rubens began to talk to you,' she said at last.

'A noisy devil,' said Stephen, with half a smile.

'I like the way he talks. Makes me feel less lonely. I'm sorry if I've been a bit sharp this evening, but I'm not quite myself these days. Something happened... something personal... and Rubens has been a kind of life-line.'

'I'm sorry,' said Stephen, more gently, but not probing.

'You can have him back. He is your cat really. I guess he just strayed when you were away.'

'He seems to like you... a lot,' said Stephen, remembering the picture of the cat nuzzling in her arms, purring like a steam-engine.

They talked over second and third cups of coffee, and eventually, when the owner wanted to close, they wandered back to the police station. Sergeant Barry had his eye on the clock. He could go off duty in ten minutes.

'Well, whose cat is it?' he asked. 'What have you decided?'

'Joint custody,' said Stephen. 'That's what we've decided.'

'One week Rubens will live with Stephen,' said Lisa.

'And one week Marmaduke will live with Lisa,' said Stephen.

'He's very adaptable, you see,' Lisa added.

Stephen put the cat's travelling-basket on the counter. 'If we could have our cat back now,' he asked. 'I'll give you both a lift home, Lisa.'

'Oh, you can have him the first week,' she said generously.

Stephen shook his head. 'I think you should have him. He'll need a lot of extra loving after his terrible experiences in the police cells.'

The marmalade cat awoke from his terrible experiences and wondered what was going to happen next. He allowed the sergeant to carry him out, leaving ginger hairs all over his uniform.

The two people he cared for most in the world were smiling at each other, and he recognised his travelling-basket. He stepped into it, full of fluffy dignity, handing them his life with implicit trust.

Sunday, November 2, 2008


Losing someone that you love definitely can be very numbing and some people get into permanent unconscious mourning without any realisation when they are going to recover or go back to their former lives. The pain can be very deep and subliminal and it takes a lot of courage and determination to go on. Some people liken a break-up to death and feel that they cannot survive and go on in life without the presence of their former partner. It is crucial that those who are undergoing such process not to be left alone since not all of us are likely to think rationally during this difficult period. Some people succumb to their own definition of love and romance which indirectly causes them self-harm and self-damage. It is not healthy to indulge in self-pity and stop living a life just because a part of your life doesn't go they way you plan or want it to be. Mourn for a while if you have to and after that, put on your most colourful clothes, face the world right in the eye and say,"I'm back and better than ever."

He left no time to regret, kept his dick wet
With his same old safe bet
Me and my head high and my tears dry
Get on without my guy

You went back to what you knew so far removed
From all that we went through
And I tread a troubled track, my odds are stacked
I'll go back to black

We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to, I go back to us

I love you much, it's not enough
You love blow and I love puff
And life is like a pipe
And I'm a tiny penny rolling up the walls inside

We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to

We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to

Black, black, black, black
Black, black, black
I go back to
I go back to

We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to

We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to black