dear aanantha thr raaga

Dear Aanantha,

Hope this letter finds you well. I always thought that you are a fast forward, fair and justified human. This is not merely an assumption. I have listened to you on air for quite a while. Your aura is quite vibrant and positive.

On top of all that, there is an incident which I would always remember whenever I listen to you whether live or in recorded events.

It was in year 2014 and you were the judge in a Carnatic singing competition. Two of my children took part in the event. It was organized by Sugam Carnatics.

My daughter won first prize. My son, Siddarth, was targeted to get second. After he sang many thought he was going to win the competition out casting the elder sister. For a ten year old, he sang with confidence and without flaw. I did perceive that too.

Unfortunately, when the results were read out we were all disappointed on the unfairness of it. Some who sang from paper won and Siddarth was obviously disappointed.

What/who saved the situation was you, Aanantha. You decided to right the wrong. You announced that you were impressed with this young boy and gave him a special prize. You didn’t have to but you did.

Although Siddarth was disappointed, your gesture made his day. Two years later, he still speaks of you with respect and love.

I wish there were more people like you, integrity seems to be vanishing slowly.

The reason I am writing this letter is firstly to thank you for your kindness. There is another request that I hope you can look into.

In recent months, I have come across our indian youngsters who are turning into nocturnal creatures. They seem to be out the whole night and return home in the early hours of the morning. If this was done occasionally, perhaps we can tolerate and accept it as taking a break. Unfortunately, it is a daily affair.

Many of these youngsters, as young as 14 to guys in their 20’s, abuse themselves with cigarettes,  alcohol, snooker, casinos and other pleasure orientated activities.

Stalls are crowded early in the morning, not getting ready for work but ending the night after indulging in nonprofit activities.

The sad outcome is, they miss school and classes in college. Those working take leave. Soon students drop out. Some lose their jobs. These habits are going to create a bigger dent in our socioeconomic status.

Parents who struggle to pay for their children’s education are at a loss as they are not able to control these people.

How is their future going to be? How are the Indians going to fare in the next 50 years? As it is we are hearing of many health issues among Indian men.  Many men die young, leaving widows to cope alone with the children.

Opportunities are many, but mostly not utilized. We are feeling contented with some minority’s success and keeping blind to our other mistakes and hedonistic lifestyle.

Young people are in a hurry to live in pleasure. They forget too much play and less work during youth is going to cause a hefty penance later.

Many are stuck with unplanned debts. They are trapped in money lending issues.

These matters cause lots of concern for me.

As a public related person I believe you have the power to bring change to our young people. Programs can be created to guide single parents and diverted children into the right path.

I hope you can do something about this.

Thank you.

Yours truly,

Ezhil

Malaysia, oh tanahairku!

After 8 days in London, we boarded the MH001, heading towards home. Up till 47 years of age, I don't remember traveling much accept to a few pilgrimage spots in India.

My very first 13 hours of flight two years ago was quite astounding for me. I did not sleep a wink. Got down in Paris with fever.

Now I'd say I'm like a pro.

Waited for dinner to be served. Then decided to fall asleep.

Once getting about 6 hours of sleep, I woke up feeling nostalgic for homeland.

The balance few hours would no doubt be filled with two to three movies.

I watched Ange et Gabrielle first. It was a flawless movie. It started and ended beautifully.

I switched to watch Maari. It dragged and really bored me with total ridicule.

I quit halfway and started to watch Langit Cinta, a movie by Osman Ali.

The movie starts in an aesthetic note in Pulau Tuba.

Story begins with Datuk Jalaludin Hassan/ Datuk Affendi, who plots to buy innocent islanders land in order to build sky scrapers in Pulau Tuba.

This plan is disturbed by the intervening of Khadejah who opposes to her ancestral land being misused for materialistic development. 

Matters worsen for the Datuk when his son Aliff falls in love with Khadejah.

Later the story revolves around how Aliff goes against the father and marries Khadejah. They live happily till Aliff gets a call that the father is ill.

The story goes well till here. Then the mess begins. On his way Aliff meets with an accident. He loses his memory.

Khadejah who is pregnant waits for Aliff for more than four months before deciding to go look for Aliff. This seems very impractical as this is the era with mobile phones.

She goes alone. A 6 months pregnant girl from a remote island will not do this!

When she visits Aliff, the mother does not give a clear picture of the situation to Khadejah. That scene is misty and camouflaged. It looked rather fake with many missing links.

The man who is directed to send Khadejah off after a thorough scolding from Datuk tries to behave badly to her. I thought men in our culture treat women well. I think it is even more ghastly to misbehave to those pregnant. The man, who is a Moslem, drinks alcohol.

Our movies should not highlight this.

Khadejah gets an opportunity to use a mobile phone of a passersby. One, she could have asked those people to call the police to save her or use the phone to call the police herself.

She calls her island friend instead. She doesn't give a proper address to him but he manages to appear there somehow. Finally, she is saved. Delivers her baby and life continues. She loses herself in sorrow when divorce letters come from Aliff.

Climax is somehow predicted with Khadejah sitting in the altar waiting to remarry her island mate.

Aliff meanwhile recovers his memory. Rushes to Pulau Tuba in the nick of time to stop the wedding.

As we're moving towards a high era of technology, movie makers should not hint too much on superstitions.

One would think that the heroine is highly jinxed. There's a limit too to tragedies to fall on one particular person. Khadijah the heroine seems to be full of it.

The flow in the story just got lost quarter way of the movie.  I liked this movie but I would have liked it better if it had been molded a little differently. The plot lacked smoothness in odd places.

Our movie makers have come a long way. But there's still room for improvement.

Pounds versus Malaysian Ringgit

All the English sounds around me sounded like chimes of church bells. It's homecoming time and again.

I've no idea why this amazing feeling took over me. Simply no explanation. Just plain excitement.

There's a lot of politeness here. Nobody is a stranger to anybody.

If you stand in the middle of the street looking lost, someone comes to you and asks if everything is ok.

 If we explained that we are lost and need to go somewhere, the smartphone immediately pops out and our destination is googled.

They even take the trouble to write it down for you.

This made me think that the pound's value truly highlights the nature of the Britons.

It made me think that there's room for lots of improvement for us Malaysians just like how RM needs drastic help.

Quote "are you crazy"

"Are you crazy!"
Often these words ring through my ears at different modes, different times by different people.

"Is she crazy?" She is crazy. Options heard too. This includes friends, relatives, 'friends' and foes.

Me being kind to many is craziness to some. Me being extraordinarily patient is lunacy to many.

Of course, being treated for depressive disorders didn't help the title! It further enhanced.my position. ;)

Attempting the steps of Bharatham at the age of 49 is the craziest thing for some.

 Opting out and grabbing the bull by its horns is another crazy stunt.

Continuing karate classes is another crazy stint. For many it is.

For me, it's completion of incomplete. Fulfilling the unfulfilled. Filling up time to its best so that the devils don't do the tango in the idle mind.

I'm that occupied that my mind doesn't have the time to even let the devil in, let alone do the tango or the rumba or the salsa.

The sole motive for all the activities is walking towards peace. It isn't a walk towards immortality. I'm happy to be a mortal and look forward to leaving. Till then.. Let not a single second be wasted.

How it came to this?

Only conclusion i can come to is people and their many antiques, tantras and tantrics.

Some scared me to my roots, some shocked me to my toenails and last but not least are those who deceived and mistreated me in every way possible.

This left me bereft and tired. A sense of surrender and give up filled me.

Initially I was just being rebellious. I wanted to dare the devil.

Karate has been an ongoing sport for me. I started learning it when I was 16. After various interruptions with pregnancies and deliveries, then disruptions with an intertrochanteric multi communal fracture I did not think too much of it initially.

But the fact that i kept my 'gi' the uniform forever and never threw it away proved that perhaps this sport is part of my development.

It was not easy though, going back to training. After four kids, hip injury, asthma and two episodes of frozen shoulders training proved to be tricky, painful, tough and disheartening.

Not being able to remember, recall the 'qatas' was awful too.

I started from scratch. Wearing my old gi i entered the 'dojo' with many misconceptions and doubts. The gi adorned always gave me some inner push.

As we start the class and sit down with eyes closed and shihan says 'zep' a spirit enters us the martial artists and it remains as strength, power and stamina throughout the training. towards the end we sit again and say thank you in silence for that presence.

I trained continuously for several months from my final brown belt to the probationary black belt. in my entire life i really don't remember wanting or thinking of giving up on anything. But here not once or twice but many a times I thought I've had enough. It was the most difficult thing to do.

Finally, when I received my black belt, i heaved a sigh of relief. Yet I know this is not the end.There is still a long way to go. I have signed up for refereeing. I am the coach for my academy. Sometimes I'm also the manager.

Recently, I went for a tournament. I checked out with the organisers why there weren't veteran categories for women qata or kumite. There were categories for veteran men. One man from Iran was a coach, referee, qata competitor and kumite fighter.

I wanted to do all that too!

The organisers promised to sort out something in the next tournament.

Till then I'm practicing a healthy diet, a sane training and good discipline.

By sane training, I mean weekly karate training, alternated with two days of gym. My Shihan often chids me for being Jack of many trades and Master of none! He gets upset that I'm not jumping the gun and grabbing the opportunity to become a referee ASAP!

I can never do that. I don't want to drown in just one activity vigorously, forever. I need diversion.

Just like when I eat I tend to take small portions of various items, the more the merrier. The same applies to my activities.

I attend Bharatham classes. That's another back breaking activity. I run to my Latin dance classes. That's nothing but sheer, heavenly fun. I run and play netball with my students. When opportunity comes, I travel to the east coast to sing songs with my cousin in his shows.

Life just needs to be colourful with these activities. As these are all that I have.

I am not living recklessly though. Even if the sky is now the limit and opportunities zoom to infinities. I'm just having clean, clear fun.

Variety is the word. Same goes for people. I meet many people on short term basis. Less hassle, less trouble. I don't intend to mingle long enough to tangle and mess up.

I have come to the peak of everything and I'm ready to leave whenever that's destined to be.

Quey Sera Sera! Whatever will be, will be!

I AM THE BLACK BELT WHO WAS ONCE A WHITE BELT WHO REFUSED TO GIVE UP!!

Like the eel that returned to its mud

I've not met some people since 1999. Today, as i stepped into the spot i was that many years ago i felt nostalgia. Ten years of great working experience, the best pupils of my life, meeting great true friends, happened here.

This place built me in many ways. As i walked in and met old faces, their jaw dropping with,

 "wow, great to see you like this!"

Is a moment i can hold and remember as something good. 

Meeting them, saying hi! And bye! was all there was to it. I walked towards my next appointment. 

It was a great feeling walking down Paul street. Pausing to see St Paul and striking a quick cross. Habitual!

Upon completion i drove around this city. Stopping at memorable places. Jayan's designated spot.

 My house, which looked quite alien and unfriendly. I stood looking and apologized to it. I'm going to let go of you. I'm sorry that we never got to stay here. Never had the opportunity to utilise this as a home. It has always been home to different group of people at different times. Non committal, no permanent occupancy. Somehow the house reflected its depressive mode in many ways. 

Driving here gave a relaxed wavelength. Traffic was predictable. People seemed calmer than the people of the city centre. Nobody was rushing. Time seemed to have paused from its usual crazy pace.

Finding a spot to park proved quite a challenge though. Finally, having found a car wash, I left the car there for a well deserved wash and walked towards my clinic. 

Having lived almost 49 years, feeling not too good doesn't really cause an alarm. Quey Sera Sera! Whatever will be, will be! Is the current acceptance.

 There's no more visions, missions or mottos. It's a matter of bulldozing through everyday. Doing the best in each individual incident. I attempt it as each case. One accomplished case is an indication to move to the next. Then next, next, next.

At times i wonder where i have gone to. The i from the 80s, 90s, the millennium, then the 2010-2014! I was a different person at each phase. Only one thing would have been similar. The chatterbox me!

Now, Gone! I no longer talk to many people. Selective conversation. 

I prefer to write. Everything and anything that goes within me.

If there's something I'd like to do i just go ahead and do it. No pausing for opinions or approvals. Consequences, achievements and conclusions are mine to hold. There's no question of loss or gain as everything is solely my decision. 

Meeting the doctor, doing the tests, chatting about the changes in our lives for the past 30 years was refreshing. 

There doesn't seem to be anything seriously wrong with me. In fact I'm far healthier than the most average 30s. The tests would reveal any other discrepancies.

Throwing all those issues aside i left. The return trip was uneventful watching traffic flow in the PLUS highway. Except for one overturned car at the roadside traffic was as how it should be on a weekday.

Listening to songs, I drove back feeling content and realized I'm finally driving long distance alone, again. 140kms is a good start.  

HELLO PREACHERS

One of my students was doing some comprehension exercises. i told her to read the text aloud. As she came to the number 2002, she paused. i asked her what the problem was. She said she did not know how to read the number. The text was in Malay. She is in year 5.

I tested my other kids to read numbers in Bahasa Malaysia. Most of them did not know. Those in Form One are still learning the numbers in Malay. It's April now! Shouldn't they be starting with more important topics like integers, negative numbers, which is a totally new zone for them?

Who created this wonderful idea of learning Mathematics and Science in Tamil? Are those people trying to bury our kids alive?

Why kill the kids' future in the name of saving the mother tongue? Be confident with the Tamil language that is being taught, people. just strengthen that.

Our students are suffering in silence. They become timid and lack confidence to gain education in the secondary school. They are much backwards compared to those from the other types of schools. In other words, most of our students are drowning.

Since the uproar some people caused after my letter 'Terima hakikat kelemahan SJKT' came online, i have been quietly keeping busy helping as many Indian children with improving their Bahasa Malaysia. 

i remember being called a traitor to my community. for condemning the Tamil schools' silly administration. So what happened with all those big noise makers? hello! where is everybody? Where are the big time preachers? I want the best for my children. How are we going to change this situation?

Were there any changes made? Where are the workbooks for Mathematics and Science in Tamil language. It's mid April and there's only one set of workbook!

As it is the UPSR this year is almost as messy as the PT3 in 2014. 14 subjects for a 12 year old! Utter craziness. With all these mess, we need to contain ourselves with lack of books issue. 

After that chaos are put aside, they need to walk into form 1 and become shocked with vocabulary such as photosynthesis, chlorophyll, oxygen, cells, 'nombor perdana', 'nombor tunggal' pecahan, 'peratus' etc.

Some manage to struggle and try to survive while the other weaker, ignorant ones divert and drop out. 

Those who are busy safeguarding the mother tongue are the ones destroying the mother tongue's future generation.

If many Tamil school leavers become dropouts to whom shall we deliver the duty of safeguarding this ancient, majestic language? 

Long live the Tamil language but remember its extended lifespan is at the expense of its own children.

Challenged

Sitting in the 38th floor of the Grand Hyatt KL, facing the KL tower upfront and watching the KLCC to my right, looking at the many people of business around me, I wondered how i got to be here.

I remember standing alone, forlorn and lost. Staring at nature. Nature mocked me and threw a challenge.

"Are you a loser and a weakling? Are you going to stoop down and let people step on you? Or would you raise to my challenge and start standing tall."

Initially, I started my activities to fill my time. To be tightly occupied that i didn't stop to falter. But, whatever i did i did wholeheartedly. With discipline and to my best.

Slowly the work bore fruits. Everything i touched struck gold.

I stood high and mighty. No one is going to step on me. I am a winner.

I willingly rose and met nature's challenge to it's face.

Though it laughed at my naivety, I believe it did it on purpose to shake me to the core and make me rebel.

I don't intend to let nature laugh at me nor do i intend that it should laugh at others. What i did learn is, ' the one who laughs the last, laughs the loudest.