My stopover along the KL - Putrajaya Highway

I stopped and parked my car at the truck parking lot at the Rest & Recreational area along the KL - Putrajaya Highway for this capture.

The trains of traffics with the headlights beaming and the street lights looked amazing when I was on the top of the hill tolerating the undulating slopes with smooth roller coaster ride minutes before. I thought I would have captured it nicely but what can I say, the view point at the place I stopped at was not as good as what I saw before.

I bet many KLites have not even used this highway yet. It only opened in recent months.

It offers road users a shorter and more direct route to the federal administrative capital Putrajaya, Cyberjaya and the KL International Airport (KLIA), cuts short by 30 minutes to get to the airport from Kuala Lumpur. It is accessible from KL starting at Kg Pandan Interchange.

Of an old man in a sorry state

The old man of 80-plus in this picture is actually no other than my own flesh and blood. He’s my mom’s cousin. He’s been down with hemiplegic for the past 6 years, helpless and confined to a wheelchair. I knew him as a well-built and strong man when I was little but now he is in a sorry state.

I visited him during my last holidays in the hometown. While talking, he seems lost in his own thought. He spent much of his time pondering – staring point blank moments after anything he rests his eyes upon.

It made me sad. I could almost feel what he was feeling especially when I asked about whether his grown-up children in KL visited him or not. He scrambled for words amidst his grumble and I knowingly nod without a definite answer given.

Note:
Often time when I have image of an old man in hand, I would want to have it treated in Black & White. The image of this old man is no exception. It must be something to do with what entrenched in the back of my mind. Perhaps, I’d automatically associate old man with the past era when the technology of the day had yet to see the arrival of color printing.

Maybe the scars of experience crafted in the face make good exercise for my experimentation with tones. Or maybe black & white finish would give better mood due to his suffering.

Be as it may with the underlying principle, I think it’s cool to have this image treated in such a manner.

God of Prosperity and the winning photo

This is a picture of a man in God of Prosperity costume showing thumbs up for the photo hanging on the wall. “Ichiban” he said, means, “Very good!” in Chinese.

That photo is actually one of the selected photos exhibited at the Annexe Gallery in Central Market Avenue, Kuala Lumpur (Jan 18th - Feb 1st, 2009). The exhibition is organized by PhotoMalaysia.com with the theme “OUR VANISHING HERITAGE”.

I am proud to tell you that, the photo on the wall is a work of my own personal friend and neighbor, Dr. Zul, here. He deserves to be recognized for this great street photography shot. The photo complements the exhibition theme and it satisfies the panels’ stringent criterion for quality photo to be exhibited.

I went there this morning for the exhibition. I didn’t know they were having function in the area in conjunction with the coming Chinese New Year Celebrations. The Minister of Arts, Culture & Heritage, Dato' Seri Shafei Apdal was the guest of honor. They have lion dance, musics played using traditional musical instruments, a parade of men and women in traditional costumes with photographers from local media on the tail and the God of Prosperity as a mascot.

I just blend in with the photographers and even met my old friend Bazuki, shooting for Reuters.

When the entourage reached the gallery, I looked for the opportunity to have the God of Prosperity to pose for me with Dr. Zul’s picture. He sportingly did what I asked with both his thumbs pointed up.

The God of Prosperity is very often associated with Chinese New Year, as in the new coming year, the Chinese will pray that they can prosper and become richer.

Gong Xi Fa Chai to all my Chinese friends.

Have a nice weekend and HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!!!

Finally... they tamed the lion

Seen here is the lion head of the costume for the lion dance lying on the pavement. In a moment, a trained chap will be behind it with help from his buddy ducked behind him to form the lion's body and the hind legs. The lion will then dance to the unassailable yet rhythmic pounding of a drum and cymbals with the agile moves and finesse that would mesmerize the spectators.

I was once standing next to the cymbals player watching the dance, only to have me ringing in the ears for the whole day.

This year, the Chinese celebrate the Year of the Ox in their lunar calendar. In Malaysia, people at all levels would “celebrate” the occasion as much as everyone would also “celebrate" Eid Al-Fitr for Muslims, Deepavali for Hindus and Christmas for Christians. Well, even if it isn’t essentially everyone’s festivity, to the very least everybody here in the country is enjoying the long public holidays.

HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!!!

Expensive things always come in a cheap way

The shells are cheap but the memory is expensive. No big deal if we go buy ‘em somewhere but it is a big deal when we had fun collecting them at the shore.

It happened many months ago. I was at the unlikely place with my children, early in the morning at a small fishing village in a tiny coastal township called Sekinchan, Selangor — collecting these shells.

Bakawali bud and cactus in flawed pot

Call it mysterious if you like. The flower only blossoms at 12 midnight and lasts for as good as 3 hours. The plant in my yard flowers a few times already but I am yet to witness it blooms before my eyes.

View On Black

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From Wikipedia

It’s known as Epiphyllum oxypetalum scientifically. Epiphyllum oxypetalum or Dutchman's Pipe is a species of cactus and one of the most cultivated species in the genus. It is also referred to as Night blooming Cereus and often confused with species of Selenicereus.

This species was originally described from cultivated material and its true place of origin has never been truly understood. In 1909, C. A. Purpus collected a slightly different type in St. Ana, Orizaba, Mexico. It has carmine red outer petals and the flowers have an unpleasant smell, rather than being fragrant. It was originally named Phyllocactus purpusii, but does probably not deserve any botanical recognition.

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Right! The pot is not perfectly circular. I got it 3-for-RM10 from the reject shop in Merbau Sempak, and not too bad for my cactus.

P/S: I am still having hard time to figure out how the name Merbau Sempak comes about.

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Of governing Pedra Branca and reminiscence of rice field

Those square shapes are actually paddy plants that been moved from the nursery before it is plucked and planted in rows and lines with 1 or 2 or maybe 3 strands of it in a single cluster. More room for them to grow when spaces are created in between the clusters. The nursery for breeding the plants is in another plot of land. They are taken care of right from the seeds until such time to move them over to another land plot like in the photo above, to be planted and to yield the rice when they mature.


Pedra Branca is better known as Pulau Batu Putih among Malaysians. It is a sad thing when we have lost our dominion over the tiny island to Singapore. A few lessons can be learnt from the incident. On the administrative level, the lesson is, do take care of our soil and never let people establish their footing for you will later loose the ownership.

For civilians like you and I, accept it wholeheartedly when we were once put the trust in the International Court of Justice (ICJ) to tackle the dispute and they did their job, delivered the verdict and substantiated well legally.

Whilst it has been hard to accept the fact of loosing Pedra Branca as far as sovereignty and pride are concerned, perhaps it is not too hard on me personally as I still remain as the governor for the island – GABENOR PULAU BATU PUTIH. I am kidding! I know that’s silly but I love saying foolish thing like this. LOL!

Forget about Pedra Branca for a moment. Let me relate to the pictures that grace this entry (as you may later see my digression due to pivotal point of Singapore). These pictures are taken when I brought my family to Tanjung Karang a couple of months back. For those of you who are not aware that Tanjung Karang also does have rice fields, I want to assure you, it does. Their economy is not just confined to sea-related produce alone as the impression one might have. Or you may not even have any idea about it?!

The serenity and tranquility of the rice field brings me back to my childhood days. And not without the kind of special feeling that always comes knocking upon looking at it. On an occasion when I am all alone entertaining my own thoughts at the edge of the field while my eyes would go as far as my eyes can see, mixture of feelings would come without warning that makes my eyes water. I would see my frail body splattered with mud playing in the field. I could hear the echo of a cow mooing in the distance. I’d vividly hear grandpa shooing a school of birds to be away from the field. And I would see cynical smiles and contemptuous smirks from specters for no apparent reasons.

Yet I am there slightly get my pants soiled upon sitting on the grass and come to realization that it happened in the past decades when the giggles of my kids playing nearby overshadows.

I was staying with grandparents as dad passed away since I was small and mom had her own life somewhere. To make matter worst, we were staying with another two cousins under the same roof. Due to some ill twist of fate, my uncle had divorced his Singaporean wife. The wife refused to take the kids along and he was then facing concrete wall in juggling his life in Singapore between career and small kids under his arm. By the way, my uncle studied in Singapore when he was small, staying in there since and even calls Singapore as home until today. See here

Decision was made; sending his small kids under the care of my grandparents would be better idea, at the onus of poor old folks.

There we were, surviving by the day with least allotments to continue living. Somehow we pulled it through despite of the hitch, thanks to the fine nurturing that taught us to be not just tough but also not to be deprived from self-esteem. And it also circumstantially taught us to tell no difference between siblings and cousins.

Now all of us have grown up, became adults, have families and lead quite successful lives on our own standard, but the very lives we had under the care of grandparents is always special to us.

And rice field will always be dearly to me.



It's a classic design of a simple bridge made out of wood that normally would be constructed to connect between the dry land to rice field across the waterway. This sight can be seen everywhere in the area.


This is an essential element to grow rice – a waterway, to irrigate the land. With its presence, not only it is meant for practical reason but it adds serene and beauty to the area too.

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Moronic product of edification

It captures the imaginations of kids with this icon of a Japanese cartoon series. The irony of it all is, many years ago, it became an issue and debated over in the Parliament. I don't know whether the MP was silly or Doraemon was too influencial until it makes a debut in the Parliament.


I was once wondered why kids like to watch cartoons!? It took me long before I got the answer, that not until I stumbled upon an article about it in the local dailies.

As kids do not possess the complexity in thinking, simple by nature; they would prefer to see things in simple form. The outward appearance of cartoon characters made kids easy to be acquainted with, perhaps requires less chemical processing in the brain to finally accept it as something they like.

The cartoon character is only drawn with the basic outline to resemble the look as for the eyes, nose, mouth and ears which finally sheathed in the shape of human face. Likewise the basic outlines are applied to resemble animals and objects too.

For kids, that is enough to incarcerate their thoughts and imaginations as those are life characters, impartial to the level of their brain activity.

But we adults, our minds are corrupted, way too sullied to see those simple characters without harboring thoughts of proper skin tones, precise facial expressions with specific facial muscles at work, a degree of grace in movements and all until it becomes less appealing to enjoy those cartoon characters as much as kids do.

In short, we make things complicated. Throughout the years lived, we keep on adding unnecessary paraphernalia in our standard for taste and liking. All the basic outline and figure of things are no longer enticing as we keep on piling the pre-requisites for our penchants.

Onto that, little wonder the real fight between humans is only demonstrated when they are grown-ups and are smart enough to discern between good and bad. The irony is kids fight more often than adults do even at a snap over a cookie. But, due to their simplicity in way of thinking, the inferno settles down as quickly as the outburst and tantrum built up and oblivious over the earlier affray.

Adults can be at their lowest point, worst than kids. Adults even fail to see flag as a flag when they start seeing what colors and design they made up to be.

Sheesh! Kids are better than you!

I was driving around on that Saturday morning looking for good place for breakfast and it brought me to Kg Baru area, a traditional village in the heart of the city of Kuala Lumpur. I stopped over at Dewan Sultan Sulaiman to find out that an open field next to it was filled with school kids from the elementary school nearby.



Coincidently, a busload of kids stops over in that afternoon when I was there at Sultan Abdul Samad Mosque, KLIA

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The mockery of my guts

It puzzles people when I show this image to them. It is fun to see their foreheads wrinkle, as much fun as I am photographing it. I name it as Pseudo-Galaxy. Can you guess what this is?

I may be writing and replying in a lot of political issues in prominent blogs in the cyberspace under assumed nicknames but I want to keep the record clean in my personal blog from politics. This is mainly due to realizing that I am not the type of person inclined towards partisan politics but more on quests of understanding the nature of the issue is raised; try to rationalize it and for my own consumption, figuring out the best possible answer to it to resolute community unrests – and on top of it to visualize what would benefit the society.

Throughout the pursuit, I found out that more often than not, issues are just mere blusters and innuendos. They’d blow things out of proportions over the course of justifying what they want to have the way the very issue is projected. They’d shout profanity at each other and blasphemous over others’ prudent. It is hardly can be seen one agrees with what opinionated by the counterpart even though when it principally deserves an agreement for it indisputably is meritoriously spot-on. They won’t easily trade-off. It’s a tough thing for a living soul with a heart like me to comprehend, let alone to swallow – and it is saddened.

Anyway, I don’t want to carry those frustrations, disappointments and disenchantments into this “From the Governor’s Desk” blog. Let it remain as the place for me to entertain myself with the heavenly things that I see in my day-to-day life. Let it remain for me to record the growth chart of my kids and it is for me to see what kind of emotions behind what I had to write when I would later recall. Let it be the place for me to rekindle my past to have me reminded from where I come from and what pasts made me today.

And let it be the place of sojourn from my daily tasks.

And….. You know what? The one I wrote above comes from deep within me despite of my digression when I hit the keyboard without knowing what I want to write.

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I want you to enjoy these pictures.

These are taken during our recent trip on Sunday (4th May 2008) to Kalumpang Resort in Kuala Kubu Baru. I had fun playing in cool water of the stream with my boys Sam and Edrin. Fara and her mom were just contented to just watch us from the distance.

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Growing up by the day

From left: Edrin, Sam and Fara
This picture is taken at the jetty in Marine Park, Sungai Hj Dorani, Sg Besar, Selangor.


There will be time when I am no longer talk about “birds and bees” with them.

Even now, I am pleasantly surprised with their advanced line of thoughts during bantering time while I'm a decade behind still seeing them as babies.

Nah, they no longer are.

Edrin advances faster than either Fara or Sam when they were now at Edrin's age. He has to cope to the advances of big brother and sister in his daily lives that technically trained him to be ahead of his time.

If you do have kids with only one or two years difference in age, you’d notice the maturity of your older one would either pulled back to the lower age or the younger one excels to be at par with the older one. That is what happens to my kids. It’s ridiculous for Sam to holdup to be in his younger brother’s world but instead, methodically driven on Edrin to propel.

From my observation, when then age gap is far too long for the youngest edition to appear, it works otherwise. The new kid perhaps learn faster in knowing what is what but get pulled back in emotional development. It takes little imagination to comprehend this due to the fact that, members in the family will set a focal point on the little one. He will observe more things around him to learn fast but requires less effort to understand and tackle his own emotions as people around him are there to cushion him up.

I told my wife while watching the TV program “Bersamamu” where the program highlights the sufferings of the less-fortunate people in some corners of the country, that, “Look, their kids are far more independent as compared to the kids in the well-heeled family”

Here comes the assertion of my homespun theory, “the harder you are trained, the tougher you will be”

And… as of now, I am not prepared for a new baby.

They pose for me in the living room under the dim of the lights before I sent them to school for their Maulidur-Rasul celebrations. I'd grab any opportunity to send and pick them, to & from school even though I've already hired a school bus to do the job. To me, it’s a quality time to be with the kids throughout the journey, nonetheless.

Edrin (facing the camera), Sam (in full body suit) and their friends are having good time at the swimming pool in the Clubhouse of our housing estate, Saujana Utama.

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The Singer In Me

He taught me singing “Hotel California” by the Eagles when were kids which I memorize the lyrics until today. He went on winning the school talent-time with the song whilst I was having hard time revetting my pitch.

I liked the part that says "They stab it with their steely knives.... But they just can't kill the beast" apart from the opening of the song, "On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair.... Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air" And, my head voice will only be out at the chorus line as if I am a good singer, "Welcome to the Hotel California.... Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place).... Such a lovely face". I'd be singing from the top of my lungs.

Smile!!!


The one in the picture above is my good friend. Not just good friend, I can say that he is one of my only handfuls of best friends I have in this world. His name is Zaid. He used to be a rock singer with a band called BELANTARA in late 80’s. He (the band) has made hell of a name in the local music industry at that time.

It started when Zaid was still studying in Pullman, Washington in the USA. The band was formed by students of Washington State University and University of Idaho with Zaid as a vocalist. After jamming sessions in an apartment basement, they start sending demo tape for recording. They got their break when they were called back for recording in Singapore.

He then heads back to the USA to finish his Engineering studies after the recordings were done.

Fast forward, he is now enjoying doing his Sound Engineering work in his own studio in Kota Damansara apart from producing songs for new talents, even nasyid for that matter. Namely, Rabbani is one of them.

I think it is no big deal for me if I want to start off a new career to be a singer. Zaid can always help me out to produce album for me. Or, at this age, am I too late for that? Or simply not much of talents I do possess as a pre-requisite for me to be one?

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Nasi Kerabu

The car that parked at the roadside belongs to the owner of the "nasi kerabu" stall and I believe it has been in service all these while. The place is a hit among students in the college nearby.

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Among the stalls in Kuala Lumpur selling Kelantan delicacies, the place in the picture above is the best to me. I used to enjoy good versions of it in Kg Baru, Kuala Lumpur, especially the one at the Y-junction close to the 12-storey flat, but they can't beat this one. This one is way better.

"Nasi Kerabu" literally means "salad rice". Kelantan's Nasi Kerabu is a "white rice" or "dyed blue rice" and served with "tumis" gravy with local herbs, leaves and vegetables. The coloring comes from a type of flower, although some sellers use artificial equivalents. Apart from that it is also served with fried fish, keropok, salted egg, "solok lada" (fish fillet and coconut-stuffed chillis), and pickled garlic.

In short, nasi kerabu is indeed yummy.

Don't blame me for having the taste benchmark that way because if you understand why the Javanese descendants in Malaysia would have their mouths water when listening to the word "tempe", then, same goes to me and my nasi kerabu.

And perhaps the same way sushi is to the Japanese.

Javanese <-> Japanese – two different things.

These students are having their packed dinner of nasi kerabu before going back to their residential halls

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Leprosy

This building is located just a few hundred meters away from the old Sungai Buluh Hospital, which used to house the Malaysian Leprosy Relief Association. Those days the old Sungai Buluh Hospital specializes in the treatment for leprosy that makes it practical for the association to be in the area.

Now, the place will very soon be replaced by the medical faculty of Universiti Teknologi MARA (UiTM) and the construction works have already started.

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Leprosy (Kusta in BM) is a chronic infectious disease caused by the bacterium Mycobacterium leprae, that’s what I got from wikipedia. Left untreated, leprosy can be progressive, causing permanent damage to the skin, nerves, limbs, and eyes.

The victims of leprosy had to be obscured from mixing with the society at large due to the severity of the disease that known to be contagious and perilous. They were then placed in this area until they fully recovered.

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Do you wonder why I write about this?

Well, I was just thinking about the time when I was little apart from realizing my blog is not been maintained lately, and to have a little something to chatter about.

When I was little there was a man in our place called Pok Ya.

I was kind of perplexed over what my friends say he doesn’t have a hand. I noticed one of his hands was always wrapped in a bandage with plastic bag in the outer layer. I had a weird feeling every time walk past him because of the eccentric tales heard from friends of similar age.

And he was not too familiar to us either because only once in a blue moon we would see him in our village.

When I grew up a little bigger, I then learned that he’s been confined to a place in Kuala Lumpur. And as years went by, only then I drew closer to the fact that; he was apparently under treatment for leprosy in Sungai Buluh Hospital.

The other day I chanced upon seeing the abandoned buildings in Sungai Buluh that used to be a relegate to the community of leprosy sufferers. Now the threat of this fatal disease is no longer prevalence in the country and the place has been deserted all these while with the buildings left to rot.

But then, it will very soon be busy with activities of future medical doctors as the UiTM medical faculty is now being built in the area.

The time when I shot these pictures, Pok Ya’s face came to my mind. I knew he was once roaming in the vicinity.

I felt as if the apparition of Pok Ya was there in the trail.



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