Max the Golden Retriever

30th May 2012 marked the arrival of Max to his new home. I am now the proud father to the latest addition to the family (I am not the person pictured on the right with him by the way, that is Yang). Fostered all the way from my cousin sister’s house in Bukit Mertajam, it was an extra long ride to his new home (I took a wrong turn and had to go an additional 12km before being able to u-turn back to Penang). It was a difficult journey for him as he was not used to travelling in wheels.

Having gotten used to riding at the back of my car within a week’s time, Max has been visiting dog friendly places – Coffee Bean at Gurney Hotel, China House, outside Botanical Garden, Burger King, Harvest Inn and Yang’s condominium as well as its pool side to name a few. He loves to eat, but doesn’t seem to favor gnawing on hide chewies. He adores bread, and that’s how I got him to take his pills and vitamins.

Although huge in size, his friendly character made him a hit everywhere he went. Keep smiling and we shall keep walking, with me at your side…

Bersih 3.0 - For the people, for the country

In the fight for a fair and just electoral system, Bersih 3.0 was set to take place on the 28th April 2012 at the Dataran Merdeka - a significant landmark which symbolized the independence of Malaysia decades ago.

Me and friends checked out from our hotel early and headed towards the Dataran around 10am, but a police blockade denied us the journey just before Sogo. We walked in silence along with steady streams of rally goers coming from all directions, swept past alleys, up and down the sidewalks, avoiding numerous blockades set to deter the supporters. Most of the people were without words, wearing straight faces which donned the morning with an utter sense of seriousness. Liveliness filled the air as we inched closer to Dataran. Businesses were getting ready for a booming Saturday, hungry  Bersih supporters as well as policemen chatted heartily over breakfast. Some rally goers were being denied passages to the Dataran, but we slipped past quietly since our yellow tees were still in our backpacks.

We sat quietly observing the human traffic after changing into color-of-the-day upon reaching the Bar Council building. There were people from all walks of life, of different religions, age, skin colors and even nationality. Nobody was hostile to anyone, everyone were there to get a share of history. Cheerful yet with a purpose, that is how I would describe the crowd. They arrived in groups, in wacky outfits, colorful shoes and attires, with their phones and cameras, one even brought along a yellow Angry Bird balloon. The place was roaring with chanting of “hidup rakyat”, “duduk duduk” and “duduk bantah”. A Malay guy who sat next to me asked to have his picture taken with me, a picture which I will never see.

We moved closer to the center entrance of Dataran approaching 1pm. By that time our phones were all out of service, so staring at the watch was the best time-passing activity we could think of. The crowd sang a Sudirman song couple of times (I am ashamed that I only knew the melody!). followed by the national anthem. Spirits soared higher by the minute as more police officers arrived, and to a new height when the opposition leaders arrived one by one and started giving speeches. It was minutes to 2pm when we decided to answer the call of nature, out of the protective shade of LRT tracks above and off we strode to the washroom at Old Town White Coffee just blocks away. Hungry tummies called for a quick bite at Subway next door, we practically swallowed the sandwich since we did not want to miss out anything. Many of the yellows were doing the same thing as we headed towards the Dataran once more, and then it happened. Just ahead I saw water canon in action followed by clouds of smoke, people started running in our direction. Faces red from chemical burns, teary eyes, violent coughing and involuntary vomiting. The peaceful sit-in had gone terribly wrong. We covered our faces with towels but the acrid smell of tear gas had already filled the air. A friend immediately showed familiar symptoms I have seen just seconds before, surprisingly I only felt a slight burning sensation on my cheeks and nothing else. People were angry with the attacks, “polis kejam” echoed through the concrete forest. 

Hours which followed were fast moving, with lots of possible scenarios to evaluate in a nick of time. In order to not limit our escapes, we had to watch the routes we took and the possibilities of getting trapped in confined spaces incase of being attacked with tear gas. We shared water supply with strangers, took pinches of salt, and had short exchange of words with people who were disappointed with the police and FRU. Lucky enough there was a water hose for gardening purposes in front of a bank, those suffering from tear gas irritation managed to do some quick wash offs, we wet our towels to better counter the chemicals lingering in the air. Every time the police stopped launching out canisters of tear gases, which is normally less than a few minutes, the crowd clapped and regained their positions. The cat and mouse game went on, with the number of launches increasing. Sometimes the wind helped, others it sent people running away, but surprisingly many were calm enough to walk instead, while reminding those who panicked to slow down.

As the enforcers marched further up the road, we moved to the next and that was where the car crash took place. The first police car raced down the street with protestors throwing water bottles at it, the windows were smashed while the windscreen was still intact. The second was not that fortunate as the windscreen cracked and I saw the driver slouched forward with both hands on the steering trying to get out alive. Barely few feet away from where I stood, it went onto the pavement and crashed. We did not stay too long as we were pretty sure the troop will be arriving shortly. Why the hell would 2 cars speed down a crowded street where they might hit a civilian accidentally? Did they do something to piss of those further up, which resulted in the attacks? With our feet shuffling non-stop and a high level of alertness, we managed to stay out of trouble or get injured.

So why did I join Bersih 3.0 you may ask. The answer is simple. It is the right thing to do for the people, and the country in the name of justice and human rights. We walked with a sense of pride, we had a purpose.

For those who blamed us for causing the lockdown of Kuala Lumpur and disrupting your peaceful Saturday outings in town, I hereby convey my apologies. However please do remember that we are fighting for you, your family, your children and theirs, while you sat comfortably at home occupied with the blame game. Many before us have sacrificed themselves for the freedom you enjoy today, or whatever that is left of it. You have the right to be ignorant and selfish, but please let us who care do our part as Malaysians, as humans, do not condemn us.

Even silence has an end.

What I am reading - Even Silence Has an End

Born in Bogota and raised in France, at the age of thirty-two Ingrid Betancourt gave up a life of comfort and returned to Colombia, a country devastated by violence and corruption, to become a political leader. In 2002, while campaigning as a presidential candidate, she was abducted by the FARC, a brutal terrorist guerrilla organization. She spent sex years imprisoned in the jungle – often chained, sometimes by the neck – dreaming of escape and trying to move beyond the pain of the moment and find a place of serenity.

’For all is horror and injustice, the experience of the political prisoner held in inhuman condition has often been transformed into compelling literature: think of Solzhenitsyn of Dumas and Arthur Koestler. Now Ingrid Betancourt joins that distinguished company’ – New York Times

’An astonishing story. Betancourt was beaten, underfed, forced on epic marches and threatened with a bullet in the head at all times. Far from undermining her faith in human nature, it confirmed her belief in man’s “endless thirst for happiness”’ – Guardian

The last installment - Dragonseed

The dragon empire finally succumbed to the relentless up rises. Humans are once more free from the tyranny of powerful creatures, their fate being left in their own hands.

Finished the last of the three books finally, truly an exhilarating journey of the imagination.

As dragons and arrows met with underspace and science, a fantasy beyond my expectations unfolded with vivid details. Unexpected twists in the storyline kept me on the edge of my seat, eyes affixed to the magical words, and fingers glued to the pages.

What I am reading - Dragonforge

The second installment of The Dragon Age trilogy by James Maxey.

Powerful dragons have ruled the land for an eternity. Following the events of Bitterwood, their supremacy now hangs in the balance. Although the oppressive King Albekizan is dead his attempted genocide cannot be forgotten. The humans seek vengeance and they will stop at nothing to achieve retribution, Radical prophet Ragnar leads a rebellion that seeks to overthrow the dragon leaders and reclaim the kingdom.

Though there are those that fight for justice, peace and a land where humans and dragons can live in harmony, they are fast becoming outnumbered and their ideals forgotten. When all out war erupts, legendary dragon hunter, Bitterwood, must face his own personal demons and decide where his loyalty truly lies.

Leading a simple life

To enjoy life, it is alright to indulge ourselves in little pleasures.

I have no objection in wasting an evening listening to live music in a small bar, or browsing through galleries. I have always imagined myself staying in a bohemian-styled apartment (a colonial one will be good too) in some small European town, hopping from one flea market to another, far far away from where I am now. A cottage located in the outskirts or perched high on a mountain sounds equally dreamy. Should I be staying in the city, a walk on the streets against the chilling breeze can be as delightful.

I need not the extras, I just want to experience true living.

Day trip to Ipoh

Made a trip to Ipoh last Sunday for some good weekend excitement with 4 other friends. Started the journey to mainland minutes past 8 a.m. after a simple breakfast of coffee and toasts. Traffic was light and the morning air crisp. Adele and a game of Taboo kept everyone awake in their seats.

Made it to our first pit stop - Foh San, the well-known dim sum place after asking for directions. The double tiered eatery was swamped with customers. With the intend to keep some room for more food, we wet our morning appetite with some nice tea and servings of dim sum.

Next on the agenda was a cave, the Kek Lok Tong (carrying the meaning of the cave of ultimate happiness in Chinese). I have been to the Perak Cave ages ago but this was somewhat different. Instead of narrow staircases laced with smoke and the smell of incense, open space and fresh air welcomed us. It was truly rewarding for urbanites like myself, especially after a hearty meal. Miniature table-top landscapes lined the staircases leading to a huge cave entrance, a very interesting entrée for visitors.

Upon completing my mission of exploring nooks and corners of the cave (which included gawking in mental awe at the statues and natural rock formations), I found Yang and Peter resting their tired feet, basking themselves in sunlight at the other end of the cave. This opening overlooked a small garden, with a pond as its centerpiece. I rested myself a bit as well, while waiting for the rest to finish their adventure (Jim was busy leaving his mark in the washroom). Glorious sunlight and cooling breezes do make a difference after all. I should get myself outdoors more often.

Raindrops fell as we were wrapping up the visit. Off we went in the car, in search of more food. Ipoh is famous for beansprouts, chicken and “hor fun” (a type of flat noodles). We stopped at Lou Wong’s for these 3 items. Lunch consisted of hor fun in clear soup, eaten with beansprouts and chicken seasoned in similar manner (soya sauce, sesame oil, white pepper as I can tell). A mouthful of smooth hor fun with crunchy spouts and nicely done chicken is how one  defines good food. I was once told that the water here contributed significantly to the quality of sprouts (shorter and thicker than what we normally have). I have no doubts that I can live solely on beansprouts here if given the chance. Despite of the pour outside, it remained hot and humid. We took in and burned calories at the same time.

Into the rain and the car again, caffeine addiction (for some in the group) determined our next hunt – the search for coffee. With the car parked for an all-natural carwash, we went in search of Nam Heong coffee shop (supposed to be serving the best and most original white coffee in Ipoh) on foot. Pacing up and down the same street looking for this particular shop brought us pass a couple of really nice stalls selling curry noodle and egg custard (accordingly to Yang). With the help of GPS (oh god!) and upon seeking help from a local, we managed to reach Nam Heong in one piece (and alive, having dashed across a busy road). Coffee was all we ordered, as there were not much space left in our stomachs.

With nothing much left to do, we left Ipoh with stomachs filled to the brim (and brains intoxicated with caffeine). The homeward bound journey was wet and quiet (most of the noise came from music). Yang drove heroically despite of being tired (a million thanks sweetie!), Peter didn’t do much to keep him awake (piak piak!). Someone fell asleep and got his picture snapped by me (photo shared and removed on Facebook before he realized the crime).

An undeniably fun Sunday I must admit. Time spent in the company of nice friends are always great!

What I am reading - Bitterwood

The first installment of a trilogy – The Dragon Age by James Maxey.

It is a time when powerful dragons reign supreme and humans are forced to work as slaves, driven to support the kingdom of the tyrannical ruler King Albekizan.

However, there is one name whispered amongst the dragons that strikes fear into the very hearts and minds of those who would oppress the human race. Bitterwood. The last dragon hunter, a man who refuses to yield to the will of the dragons A legend who is about to return, his arrow nocked and ready, his heart full of fiery vengeance…

Hotel K - According to the inmates

”Police at Poldabes said, ‘Do you want to have sex with me, we can drop the charges?’ She agreed and was taken out of Poldabes and had sex with the policeman… But her sentence was not cut. She got the maximum of five years.” – Elsa, inmate, talking about her friend

”She writes: ‘I love you, my darling. I miss you, I need sugar, I need coffee, I want to have shabu.’ Men who have drugs can easily find a girlfriend. If you give her a little bit of shabu, she loves you very much.” – Thomas

”Cell tikus was disgusting, disgusting. The toilet was filled up with dry shit. I found out why it’s call cell tikus [rat cell] because the first time I went in I had to take a pee and I took it on the hole The dry shit became soft and the rats came out of there, so in the dark I listened to them.” – Ruggerio

” Your main goal is to get free, but beside that, if you still have a little freedom if you pay the money. You can bring cans of beer, movies, girls, whatever you want, but every step you have to pay the money.” – Den

“You know how Kerobokan is, it’s a joke. You can bring an elephant in if you want!” – Ruggerio

Hotel K - According to the inmates

“People couldn’t imagine what is behind those walls at Kerobokan.” – Ruggiero, Brazilian inmate

”It’s a mental camp. In this place, you get worse, not better.” – Mick, Australian inmate

”They demanded 12 years for me, but I talked to the prosecutor and the prosecutor asked me if I had money so that I could deal with my case. So I paid over one hundred million rupiah [$25,000] through my lawyer and the court gave me punishment for 6 years.” – Nita

”From the beginning, Iwan was Number One VIP. He is the one who can openly use a laptop or hand phone because he’s the one who is the Number One sponsor for the jail. Whatever is needed, he’s the one who takes out the money. Even if the chief of jail wanted to go somewhere, wanted to go to Jakarta, he was the one who paid the money. He’s the one who takes care of it, plane fare, hotel, everything. With money, whatever you want, you can do inside. Whoever wants to sell drugs inside the jail, no problem. Every week you have to pay the money to the chief of the jail.” – Den, Nepalese inmate

What I am reading - Hotel K

Welcome to Hotel Kerobokan, or Hotel K, Bali’s most notorious jail. Its walls touch paradise: sparkling oceans, surf beaches and palm trees on one side, while on the other it’s a dark, bizarre and truly frightening underworld of sex, drugs, violence and squalor.

Hotel K’s filthy and disease ridden cells have been home to the infamous and the tragic: a Balinese King, Gordon Ramsay’s brother, Muslim terror bombers, beautiful women tourists and surfers from across the globe. Petty thieves share cells with killers, rapists, and gangsters. Hardened drug traffickers sleep alongside unlucky tourists, who’ve seen their holiday turn from paradise to hell over one ecstasy pill.

”This book is dedicated to anyone travelling to the tropical paradise of Bali. Be careful. It could be a holiday you never forget. Even one ecstasy pill could cost you thousands of dollars and a stint in the hellhole Hotel Kerobokan.” – Author Kathryn Bonella.

”Now I realize how precious pure laughter is, it’s amazing. Even a smile is very rare here. A laugh is priceless.” – Inmate

”It’s like the end of the world. It’s crazy. You feel dead when you’re breathing. You just want to get drunk to take your mind out of this place.” – Mick, Australian inmate

”So many times I drive past those walls; I could never have imagined what happens inside. What happens inside goes far beyond my imagination before.” – Ruggiero, Brazilian inmate

The truth about the dark heart of Bali explodes off the page, a true page turner!

The incident at Kentucky Fried Chicken (KFC)

Following the controversy of a KFC customer being assaulted by one of their employees, and the viral sharing of the video clip, each and everyone of us has got something to say. KFC stated that they will not apologize until police investigation is being concluded. Supporters of the KFC employee said that he was being provoked to hit the customer. The male customer and his female companion said that they never hurled any insults at the personnel. So who is the real victim here? Who should we be listening to? As rational individuals, we should not listen to anyone but rather examine the hard proof we have – the clip. What transpired between them during the time of incident does not matter as there was no recording of the conversation. You may wish to take statements made by witnesses into consideration, however that is not necessary for myself because the value they hold is negligible.

Whichever party that raised their fists loose, regardless of the degree of provocation. The victim who did not make the first punch has the right to lodge a police report of assault, even if he/she fought back. Let’s see if the judiciary system in Malaysia is fair, and to what extend. As for KFC, they should say something more appeasing to the angry crowd rather than being arrogant at this moment.

No one should resort to violence under any circumstances unless they are prepared to suffer the consequences. I have no devious intention to shoot every single employee working for KFC (I did after all continue my support after a few unpleasant experience with them personally) due to one bad egg, but the truth is it was in the basket, and there may be more. It is time someone take this as a lesson well learned, employees and employer alike.

After all the videos of KFC personnel contaminating the food on purpose, the latest incident serves as the last straw for me. I shall now stop visiting KFC and all other eateries under the same umbrella, as a consumer with integrity and for my own health

Kentucky Fried Chicken or Kentucky Fight Chicken, your choice!

It finally ended!

After slaving over spring cleaning for a week, it finally came to an end – for the time being, with a bang. My hands were extremely painful (specifically from the sweeping and mopping) last night but a lot better when I woke up this morning. The alcohol from last night must have helped with the quickened healing! We made a new record last night by drinking in 3 bars at different locations!

May the house be as clean (or even cleaner) by the next Chinese New Year. Seasons greetings from the woof and the meow!

Crockery disaster

For people who have a passion for cooking – regardless of 3-star Michelin chefs or people like yours truly (self-proclaimed masters of the kitchen), pots and pans of various sizes come in very handy while whipping up gourmet meals (in a different class of its own for my case).

Isn’t it delightful to just reach out and grab that cast iron skillet for some simple frying, or that wok for some serious action? Not when you have limited space in the kitchen! Spring cleaning today brought me into the kitchen, and handed me some serious scrubbing tasks. Besides cleaning the cooker so furiously that I damaged the paint job, I also noticed that I have enough pots and pans to prepare a full course meal for an entire concentration camp. That oven… what am I to do with it? Bake a cake or roast an entire chicken for myself?

Second part of the kitchen tomorrow, hopefully an easier day…

Spring cleaning

It is time of the year again for some serious cleaning. I never cease to amaze myself with how much stuff I own, especially skincare. There seem to be enough body lotion/butter to keep the entire nation moisturized through ice age. To make it worse, it is the same case with every other product I can use on my face or body.

My rule of thumb during this period of catastrophic clean-up is to dispose of anything and everything which may seem less important (except the above mentioned) in keeping me alive. A whole lot of throwing out normally takes place before anything else. Along with these things are memories (now very precious memories), I often look at the items one by one and try to recall how they became part of the house. I also managed to locate books I have yet to read, gosh...

So much to do and yet to little time (I am somewhat slow in cleaning). Being left without any other choices, the only thing I can do is to press on and keep going.

I wish myself luck, lots of it… and no more shopping!

My childhood

Growing up seemed to take such a long time when I was young. I wanted to race through school and join the workforce. But now I miss the good old times.

I stayed with my dear grandmother when I was small. Radio blasted hits of the 80s as my aunts got ready for work early in the morning. I can recall their routine clearly as if it was yesterday. The smell of breakfast awakened the sleeping (I was the only one still in bed of course), marking the start of another new day. My first meal of the day was usually half boiled eggs, bread, ham or biscuits.

Emptied of adults other than my grandmother, the house was quiet. Too quiet sometimes, all I heard was the sound of the grandfather clock. Sunshine sprayed through the glass roof in the kitchen on sunny days, brightening up the entire kitchen and the bedroom grandmother shared with me. I used to play by myself in the mornings (yes, I didn’t need much babysitting), making up stories as I go along on a daily basis. Somehow I was rarely in the kitchen before lunch (porridge or fried rice and Chinese tea, accompanied by story telling on the radio). Afternoons were normally spent in the kitchen with my grandmother, preparing dinner. Food had to be on the table piping hot sharp at 6pm, so she started immediately after lunch. I was not incredibly helpful other than keeping her company at the dining table as a chatterbox, but I managed to help with the simpler tasks such as peeling garlic and onions, as well as prepping the vegetables.

As the working returned home after a long hard day in the office, the house became noisy and filled with life once more. Alone no more, I was once again showered with attention.

The twins, though the latest addition to the family, are growing up oh-so quickly. We peered through the windows in the hospital, went jewelry shopping for their full moon, then got excited over their first birthday. Now they are off to pre-school, and doing a whole lot of stuff. I hope they will enjoy their childhood like I did, and still be able to remember in years to come.

Aiden and Andes, make your childhood counts. Always remember those who had walked down the path with you, even for very short miles.

An evening of discovery at China House

Dimly lit and hidden from plain view. What seemed like another insignificant pre-war building located in the quiet precinct of Victoria Street is a gem – China House. We had a tough time locating the establishment ourselves. First time for all of us except 1 (that did not help much though). I was the last person to reach as usual (with the help from friends), thanks to a bad sense of direction and geographical knowledge.

China House is not a bar, a restaurant, nor a gallery… but a fusion between the 3. Bar on the side facing Victoria Street, while an eatery at the other end facing Beach Street. A journey up the narrow wooden staircase leads to the gallery on the second floor, lined with photography artwork from various photographers hailed from different countries. Any of the above would have made me a happy man, imagine a triple dose of happiness on a Saturday evening. The surprise was definitely exhilarating.  I spent quite some time at the gallery, which one cannot expect less of me.

A 2-man band jumpstarted the melodic journey with interestingly re-arranged songs as well as originals. With drinks on our table (ironically a metal trunk lined with leather and not a real table), we lazed comfortably on the mix-and-match chairs, couches and stools, and watched the crowd grew. Interesting enough, expatriates made up a huge portion of their customers. The relaxing ambiance coupled a British colonial décor definitely worked its magic in drawing in both local and foreign fun seekers.

Honestly, I can’t wait to spend another quiet and entertaining evening with friends at China House again, hopefully very soon!

I feel like cooking!

Whenever I feel down and gloomy, I want to cook. When boredom strikes, I can hear the pots and pans chant my name. I like to cook, I love to cook. It is a way for me to keep myself occupied, to keep my insanity at bay.

The food stops tummies from growling, feeding people is one of my many passions (especially those who cannot cook to save themselves).

Sometimes I whip up dishes heavy in tastes, but I normally try to be simple and light. After all, isn’t life good if it is simple and straight forward? I love potatoes (this is supposedly good carbohydrate), prefer lean meat, and go berserk by introducing loads of vegetables. If rice is absolutely necessary, I will opt for brown rice over polished rice (I am a rice lover in disguise).

Self-styled fusion is a good way to go, you get to take shortcuts (less chopping, cutting and cleaning) to cook up a storm. However Chinese style home cooking is what I grew up with, thus it is sometimes necessary to drag myself through the lengthy process to satisfy the craving. As for my bowl of steaming hot soup, herbal will always be at the top of my list.

I feel like cooking, anybody up for some feeding?

2012 the year of the Dragon

My old wishes remain valid for this new year:
* Health for family and friends.
* A prosperous and joyous year ahead for all.
* Happiness all around.
* Better lives for all homeless people/animals.

In addition, I would also like to achieve the below:
* To become a thinner me (by eating less).
* Increase fitness level (I am in Limbo now).
* To retain my youth (as if I have any).
* Inner peace.

I have no need for pretty clothes or good food, all I want is a decent and peaceful life. Hopefully people will remember me as a good person when I am gone one day.

The most important of all, I wish for my dearest friend to be happy on the other side. This is your year old pal.

Top 50 Male Models - Andrej Pejic (ranked # 18)

Father is Croatian, mother is Serbian. Born in Tuzla, Bosnia and Herzegovina; left in the 90's with his family from the war ravaged country eventually settling in Melbourne Australia.

From WWD profile December 20, 2010: "Since the fashion industry first began asking “Who’s the blonde girl?” at the Paris men’s shows in June (2010), 19-year- old Serbian Australian model Andrej Pejic has emerged as a poster boy for fashion androgyny."
 
In January 2011, Andrej walked for Jean Paul Gaultier in his men's show and for the January 2011 couture show, eventually appearing in the Spring/Summer 2011 JPG campaign with Karolina Kurkova. The same season, he appeared in the Marc by Marc Jacobs campaign. Named one of OUT Magazine's 100 Most Compelling People of 2011.

To squeeze himself into female garments, he was forced to reduce his waist from 29 to 25. I would like to be like him, however I think I will send myself to the grave before reaching 29 haha!

A dream remains a dream.

What I am reading

Ship of Magic by Robin Hobb – book one of The Liveship Traders.

Wizardwood – a sentient wood. The most precious commodity in the world. Like many other legendary wares it comes only from the Rain River Wilds. But only a liveship fashioned from wizardwood can negotiate the perilous waters of the Rain Wild Rivers, and liveships are difficlt to come by. Rare and valuable, they will quicken only when three family members – from successive generations have died upon their deck.

The liveship Vivacia is about to undergo her quickening. As Althea Vestrits’ father is carried to her deck in his death-throes Althea waits with mixed feelings for the ship that se loves more than anything in the world to be awaken.

But Althea’s dream of taking her father’s place at Vivacia’s helm is not to be, for her family have other plans… And the dark, charming pirate, Kennit, also lusts after such a ship: he well knows the power of wizardwood and has plans of his own…

Old memories of 2010

I came across 2 items which brought me back to the year 2010. The first was a book titled Tetanus by a friend and author Stephen Teoh – signed and dated 26th September 2010, while the second was a hematite rosary from a friend who was working in Philippines back then. They are both back in Penang now, but the origins of these two treasures remains significant.

Time flies, people grow older by the second. We may not linger in this physical world forever, however memories of us and our doings shall be eternal.

Be good and be kind, to all kinsmen as well as living creatures.

May the new year of 2012 bring peace and love.

2012: Nothing but words

After a really long absence from my blog, I return only to discover all images in my previous posts have been lost. There is no way for my to repost them as I have lost almost all of them. Along with them gone are the memories, precious memories.