Why I Am Not Technologically Close To God.

The Abandoned Medium

 

I received a Whatsapp message from a friend the other day, that recounted a Hadeeth. I managed to glance at the message and upon seeing the short narration, I just deleted it. I pondered for a moment, if it was the right thing to do, since I did not even bothered reading it. Nevertheless, I did not have the simplest regret. Truth be told, the message was indeed well intended. But I just could not appreciate the medium by which it was disseminated.

How To Deal With Pretentious People In 5 Easy Steps

I Can Pretend

This might be the dumbest post I attempt to write, but I guess when I read this post again in eons to come, this might just be an insightful piece of blog post I could have ever written. The inspiration behind this post is very simple. I’m beginning to see how this “pretentious” “bug is beginning to bite a lot of people especially, with the aid of social media coming into play. It seems that this personality trait seems to rear its ugly head in all forms these days.

5 Reasons To Understand Why You Should Not Forget The Past Too Quickly

The Past Is Your Vault Of Lessons

I woke up from such a random dream, that definitely left me emotionally charged, with a plethora of feelings. As I walked to the train station, on the way to work, I asked myself the proverbial question,”Why?”. These are probably the reasons I can think of.

1. Certain Individuals Are Just Meant To Stick

Yes, you are perhaps married, engaged, attached or just plain walking around with no definitive status. Yet, there is this niggling name to a face that keeps cropping up in that dark corners of your memory. Some individuals do that. They leave such an impact in a manner of impression on you, that forgetting them just seem so damn hard. These individuals are meant to stick. No matter how old you get. Cause they probably manage to arouse a primal and raw emotion in you. They probably bring out the best or worst facet in you. They could also have provided the greatest source of inspiration and motivation or fear and suppression. Understanding and recognizing their influential scope on you makes for better interpretation. You’ll then realize the kinda personalities you need to have or not in your life, to propel you forward. If you dismiss this individuals too fast, as just another random person crossing your path, you might just lose the whole significance of why he/she even walked into your life.

Why There Should Be An Obedient Wives Club

It Takes Synergy

The recent days had seen reports, official statements and opinions from scores of individuals within the community, about the intention of having an Obedient Wives Club being formed right on our shores. This establishment, that was supposedly founded and propagated by the splinter units of the now defunct Al Arqam was seen by many as an “atrocity” on the rights of womanhood. It was lambasted by the “official opinions” of those asked, as a society that can split the community.

I say…typical knee jerk reactions!

Although, yes I must admit that the statements coming from the sisters over in Malaysia, likening the need to have these support group, so as to assist wives in becoming a “first class” sexual provider, to be way out of line. However I believe it may have been spoken in a moment of overzealous tone. She probably wanted to reiterate the point that such “skills” are crucial in maintaining a harmonious marriage. But it came out wrongly. Heh.

How To Deal With Frustration Without Killing Anyone

Everyone Thinks About It

Have you ever felt the need to ask for murder to be legalized? It may be your nagging spouse, your intrusive in laws,.your domineering boss, your pesky colleagues or even your emotional blackmailing scandal. Whatever the case is, you are mad with them. And you are definitely sure that Mustafa Center do not actually sell hired assassins.

So, how do you deal with the psychological torture?

Deal With The Matter Proportionately.

Blow The Person Disproportionately.

In most cases, when you look at it, most matters that get you riled up are child’s play. It may be about a missed promotion, coming home late, missed deadline and other matters that can be dealt with rationally. The thing that makes the matter so hard to chuck aside, is the fact that we are dealing with emotional mammals. You tend to be more cautious in that sense. This can be hazardous to your state of mind, since that frustration is not dealt with, directly. Therefore, this is my suggestion.

• If the matter, as I mentioned is child’s play, you may choose to ignore. If it is adult matters, think about a plan/strategy to get things done or resolved. If you miss a promotion, work harder. If you came home late, promise to be punctual in the future. If you missed a deadline, apologize and finish it asap. In other words, deal with the matter. That’s it. That’s calling, proportionate reaction. It’s devoid of emotions. It’s just about action creating results.
• Now that you’ve got the matter out of the way, now on to the source of your troubles. The person. When I say, blow that person disproportionately, what I am implying is for you to build up a siege mentality within, to just say, “Okay idiot, now’s your turn.” The true warrior in such dealings do the noblest thing possible. Visualize that person into non-existence. If that person riled you up in a manner that frustrates you, just over exaggerate the simplest form of weakness/flaw that person has in your mind. This will create a soothing form of comfort. Temporary it might be, but still it’s better than wanting to dial up that assassin. For example, if you do know that the person is totally detached from a semblance of love life, just have it justified within your mind, with the thought that maybe the person is too fat, too ugly, too uncouth, too weird, too emotionally deprived to even attract the simplest of suitors. Or you can perhaps just tell yourself that these people probably lack the emotional care and love from their parents in their childhood. Or maybe you can just tell yourself that these people have the retarded IQs of an idiot. Something like that. You get the drift right? The whole idea is to defray the circuits found in your frustration and channel it, into something negatively positive for yourself. It is okay to mentally rape a person’s personality, behavior and character in your mind, where there are indeed no tangible consequences. The idea is just about you, feeling better.

For a start, this can indeed be a method of detachment from the routines of human interactions. As long as you get your matters solved, everything else is secondary.  

Personal happiness is a choice, and it always begins in the mind first.

Stretching An Imagination [Part 1]

It’s hard to escape into the realms of your inner thoughts, when you are besieged by the hectic lifestyle demanded in Singapore. In another lifetime, in another alternate yet parallel universe, I am very much an emotionally deranged busker who finds solace in having a cup of coffee after every evening when the sun casts its setting shadows on the pavement.

Being original is very much a distant ideal. To go home and splash paint onto the canvases strewn all over the floor. To rest my tired legs on the glass table, with chips and a beer, notwithstanding the fact that I don’t drink, and watching reruns of Tony Danza’s Who’s The Boss. To kick up a storm in the house with David Cook’s rendition of Always Be My Baby, playing in the background. To wait patiently for the bell to ring, to answer the door and find a Megan Fox/Gal Gadot impersonator, dressed in over sized Raoul’s men shirt. To cuddle and huddle by a fireplace with a guitar, strumming to the tunes of Bruno Mars’s Billionaire.

Throw me a lifeline, and I am probably resting on the wooden beach chair somewhere in Brazil, human watching. As I struggle to come up with the concluding lines to the lyrics I was writing in tribute to a loved one.

I miss my imagination. I miss my zest for the impossible. I miss the times of my life.

All Good To Go

Just thought I will write a short post before I end the day. I had a short meeting with my director this afternoon, and it was just another random yet purposeful discussion on the areas of my business. After having been under the tutelage and guidance of two Malay managers in the past, it was just a breath of fresh air to have a Chinese perspective and take on things, business wise. Personally, I found the prospect of learning a different approach enticing.

Anyway, the discussion central-ed on the discussions regarding my career progression. Am happy to note that somehow, the director found me to having leadership qualities. The area by which I was lacking in was definitely, the needed exposure. The needed exposure on managing expectations, morale, motivation, drive and personalities. I admitted that I was very much a novice in this area. Leadership wise, I am perhaps a man’s leader. The kind who rolls in the mud, sweat the blood and tears and probably the type who refuses to concede defeat even if I am left just alone. This presumed strengths of mine are probably also areas of weaknesses if there are personality clashes, cause the egoistical facet of myself will surface. My director was highlighting that there should be a balance of consultative leadership with directive leadership intertwined in my style of management. This recommendation was probably highlighted to me, because I mentioned my stance and ideals when it comes towards leading a group of individuals.

Assuming a leadership role, has been distracting. In trying to comprehend, accommodate and balance, I sometimes just lose the needed focus needed for myself. The thing about me unfortunately, is that I love team dynamics. A positive team dynamic, where individuals are self motivated, rid of emotional and irrational responses, driven with a cause and possessing high EQ are always a blessing. The good thing is, I know what makes this kinda team tick. I know also what kinda individuals fit into this team.The unfortunate part however, is in trying to gather these individuals around.

Oh well, no matter what, l am blessed to be able to rough it out early in my career and polish up my management skills. It is gratifying to be able to identify problems early on, improve and drive ahead.

My director was coaxing me to formally apply for the position of being an associate manager by the end of the year. I, declined however, citing my lack of preparation. Hah. It sounds fun actually. To be in a capacity where I can actually feel that I’ve progressed. But I am making progress, without the capacity to begin with. I am actually happy to be mixing it out with a diverse range of individuals in the office. Learning. Understanding. Helping. I want to be a contributor on my own maverick ways, without the incessant need to look over my shoulders and worry whether my actions and intentions are met with approvals or disapprovals.

I have genuinely understood what my mentors have thought me on the areas of leadership. The experience itself cannot be bought or learned over the exchanges found on the Web, social media, workshops or hearsay. I’ve been through political overcasts, backbitings, emotional blackmails, and pure evil over the past seven years, in what is, a hot industry. The capacity to excel in this industry of financial planning, is the capacity to understand what it is that actually drives people.

Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Inverted…

Anyway, all system is good to go.

The natural way of Thick Face Black Heart is beyond human manipulation, beyond the petty standards of human judgement. When one acts in harmony with the universal will, one’s actions are aligned with the good and benefit of all. You are neither self-righteous nor too eager to please; nor are you seeking approval. In action you are swift, competent and dispassionate. In yielding you are unabashed and have no concern for others judgements. In conquoring you are effective and can be ruthless, In action and non action you are changeless. You are a true Thick Face Black Heart practitioner. 

 

That Thing About Being The Leader…

Little Ambitions, Big Lessons

 

One of the things that I realized after being on a self imposed blogging hiatus, is that, I miss it. Like how I miss dancing to the grooves of an R&B tune. Meaning that, it is not necessarily needed, ie blogging, but it provides a needed reprieve. Especially when things are just muddled up, or when the clogging mechanisms in the brain need an overhaul.

Work has been awesome. Awesome in the sense that I feel that I am in the elemental plane of being myself. That part where I feel that I am entitled to work hard and play hard. After being in the frame of tormenting my intentions and soul, to be that superhero trying to save the community, all these years, I am pleased to say, I am just being myself. There are parts and snippets of my working ethics and attitude that needs working on, as observed by some concerned colleagues. But, generally, I am enjoying the flexibility and freedom of being an individual that is not closely restrained by the need to impress.

Leadership Is Not A Game

I attended a leadership course about three weeks back, in my bid to understand and learn all there is to know about being in a leadership capacity. It was the first time I actually attended a formal corporate based leadership course, and I found it to be enthralling. The last time I attended a similar type of course was when I went for my one month trainer course in my national service days. Needless to say, both were enlightening.

Over the past few months, leadership was indeed the main nucleus, by which I was revolving myself around. Having been elected as the captain of my social soccer team was a highlight, but I soon found the rigors of trying to manage players with different levels of commitment and interest to be challenging. Recently, the captain-ship of the team was thrown wide open,through a suggested initiative. I found the whole idea of rotating captain-ship to be a farce and I still hold to that idea. Although I was visibly upset at the manner by which this issue came to fore, I decided to suppress my disappointment, and just accept the fact that maybe, the team had to function without order, to probably make it realize the slumber and stupor by which it is heading towards to. The fact that the players were responding to the initiative with zest and enthusiasm, highlighted, that maybe my stint as a captain was dampening them. Just perhaps. But on the other spectrum, I hold the belief that in my capacity as a captain in a team, competing in a competition, it is not in my interest to entertain self glorification. I was rigid, stubborn, clueless at times, emotional and darn right rude at times in my approaches towards some players. And that is still how I will approach captaincy at any levels or team. I find that I will be more at ease playing alongside 10 other willing players who are serious about their game. At the meantime, I do not have the luxury of such. But changing a team’s credo and ethics is not my agenda. I’ve decided to make use of my social team as just an outlet of expression. Nothing more. When I find the suitable alternative where I can utilize myself, I’ll move on. After all, I gather the feeling that most of the other players do not appreciate the magnitude of seriousness in the game. I do. I am not gonna go down the path of dwindling my years of effort, just because, “It’s just another Sunday game.” I have too much respect for the game, to accord it, that kinda nonchalant treatment.

Over the past months or so, I had also, unknowingly tried to galvanize a team of Malay planners within my agency. The intention of gathering a bunch of probable like minded colleagues was to just have a think tank team, where ideas and actions can be optimized. I am not sure if the effort is reaping its desired outcomes, considering the fact that one member fell through the crack, having claimed that he sees no viable productive result, from working with Malays. An insulting reason for me, which however, justified the idiosyncrasies I had associated him with. A couple of colleagues found that working ethics found were not conducive enough for synergies, thus creating preferences when it comes to idea sharing and efforts. It has been, an almost impossible task, to actually motivate individuals with curtained perspectives about each other.

The experience, however, has been priceless. Cause amidst the feedbacks, insinuations, silence, body gestures, Facebook statuses and so forth, I have discovered candidly, that leadership is very much a work in process. It is not a position, but a concerted application of ideals and initiatives. As was told by my trainer, there will be times, when colleagues will not accord you with the much needed respect and room, because there is a space of familiarity in them about you. Thus the incessant small voice within them that judges you and at times, having apprehensions about you. I understood rightfully, what my trainer meant by that. Familiarity breeds contempt. Looking back, I relate clearly that rational with the outcomes gathered from my soccer and work conditions.

I do however, console myself, every now and then, that whatever the outcomes of this experiential lessons in leadership may be, I will emerge as a better individual. Being a Malay, sometimes connote the tags of being properly conducted Muslims where conflicts, misunderstanding and disagreement in ideas are best avoided. Being an Asian, most times connote the tags of, silent revolt, clique forming and avoidance to be the best recourse in dealing with career and life management. All these relations and associations provide me with a very solid yet diverse background by which I can build the foundations of my leadership.

Hopefully, all these storming lessons in leadership will put me in good stead, when I start forming my very own team of players/colleagues. The importance of associations is very important and I am grasping this philosophy slowly but surely. I feel that I no longer need to feel that sense of emotional indebtedness towards anybody blindly. If that feeling does not lead me towards a desired outcome for both, then I see no mutual benefit to be shared in the association.

How To Defeat Your Office’s Political Voldermort?

 

 

 

You may have been in this scenario before.

By some freak accident, you are discovered to be a shining example of what superior performance is all about. People find you to be an amicable piece of art. A personality so engaging and influential that people just feel so alive by your vibes. You find people smiling when your name is being mentioned. People look at you, with envious eyes, scrutinizing every inch of your well being. People want to be mentioned in the same breath and sentence as you. People clamor for your attention. In summary, people know you and recognize the immense value you bring to those around you.

Then, at the far reaching corners of the oblivion, lie a few individuals who stare at you with snarling scowls on their face. Looking at their hideous and heinous personalities, they realize that there are no absolute ways they can even get within whiffing distance to your abilities. Thus they devise schemes and arouse the suspicion theory around those that you know. They figured that the only way they can taint you, is through a hemorrhage on your credibility. They want you to be seen as an overwhelming shadow on the potential of others. They want you to be spied on by those relatively familiar to you, so as to gain an edge over the personality factor. They attempt at triumphing you by soliciting sympathy votes and favorable judgement calls. They vie for every single piece of trivial information and news that can be manipulated to a groundbreaking headline. In short, they try to be you. With a lesser agenda and methodology.

Politically charged agendas within the frame of a working environment is unhealthy. Especially for idiots who lack the basic skill of effective communication. If there is one thing that you might wanna learn on the art of being a mean political player, it will have to be, that subtle art of persuasion. The delicate art of influence, as I might wanna term it.

There are times when you might find yourself cutting a lonesome figure when you might find yourself being in the entanglement of an Al Jazeera news for the week. You’ll find yourself being a centerfold for the conversations of those around you. By the time you get to the page, you’ll realize that the news was old. Apparently you’ve been a subject that was being discussed.

Office politics work that way. People talk in hush hush. It’s like Voldermort has just walked through the hallowed turfs of Hogwarts. Then you find out that you were mentioned. A bit here and a bit there. Then just like Harry, people cast a suspicious look at you. They fear your unguarded capabilities. Your raw energy. Your limitless potential. You discover then that Voldermort has indeed walked the turf. He had spread ideas. Ideas meant to undermine you. Why did he do that?

Because he knows he cannot engage you directly, whilst his power are nowhere near yours.

This Harry Porter analogy just seemed apt, don’t you think?

So how do you beat this Voldermort and kick his arse back to Timbaktu? Let me offer just three worthy incantations.

• Banish The Doubt Spell

This is what you should do as a start. Illuminate the atmosphere with certainty by addressing the Al Jazeera news head on. If you’ve heard of yourself being spoken about, seek to clarify. Have a conversation with the people who matter. Take trust out of the context since it’s highly unlikely the truth is anywhere near the mark. Find out the issue that is being discussed and eradicate any doubts by being objective. You want to be seen as a level headed person. So you want to get the issue in contention out of the way first. Therefore, speak and listen without judgments and adverse reactions. The point is to dispel doubts and establish a ground work where credibility can be built.

• The Reaction Spell

Do not react on impulse. The greatest fault you can ever commit in dealing with your office’s political Voldermort, is to engage. Though reasoning on any level may grant you that absolute opportunity, the more powerful exponent knows that silence patience is deadly. Reactions are the mother of all cock ups. Just look at Bush and his 9-11 agenda. You may find solace in knowing that a proactive approach of smiling through your teeth is an even scarier prospect for Voldermort. Because Voldermort  still cannot read minds. But he can read reactions. So, be smart and stay resolute as a stone.

• The Overwhelming Charm

I believe this is the best charm you can ever unleash on a Voldermort in your office. This is a simple incantation. All you need to do, is to engage yourself to perform at a level beyond the one that you are at now. One of Voldermort’s apparent weakness is low self esteem. He feeds and thrives on instability and insecurity he finds in you. But should you manage to gain a semblance of greatness going on for you, such traits will be reversed fully on him. Seek to gain in solidifying your apparent strengths and improving on your recognized weakness. Be a better individual so much so that, he may have to just call it quits. The power of the Overwhelming Charm lies in that three things.

1. Consistency
2. Character
3. Communication

A character that communicates consistency overwhelms.

A consistent communication shows character.

A communication that  is filled with character will establish consistency.

…and the flow goes on and on.

An email that seemed so simple in its heading will probably turn out to be a defining read for me in this new year. A Toastmaster’s acquaintance wrote to just highlight that she is currently recuperating. A recent biopsy has diagnosed her with malignant cancer in her pancreas, liver and several organs. In that email, she attached a written mail to her brother, whom she was probably trying to comfort. Poignantly written, it highlighted her initial struggles in life, such as paying off her HDB flat with cash as she was unable to secure a loan. The note also detailed her satisfaction at living a full and significant life, albeit the struggles. At 57 years of age, I got a feeling that she probably has lesser regrets in life than what my 30 year old body is carrying. That foreboding knowledge of perhaps an impending departure from this Earthly realm can make people really ponder about life. Or rather the fullness or lack of it.

This email directly contrasts the episodes that I had lived out in 2010. A year that definitely stood out in my memory as a year filled with nothing much for me personally. I left my agency in Manulife after almost 4 years of unacceptable performances. It was a bitter way to end a working relationship, where I had tendered my resignation without breathing a single word to my manager, nor did I even cast an appreciative look on his 50 plus year old face. The bitterness that I had is now long gone, having come to let go the follies and unnecessary baggages, that my stint in the agency had been filled with. The episode of watching how, a model of leadership can be so twisted, when images of success and wealth can so fixate and overwhelm a man’s ideal.

Perhaps it is just me, but this email brings about a real sense of perspective about how silly people are. Or can be. Or still is. Where their lives are filled with ecstasy of non fulfilling gratifications. Like how booze and merriment in parties are almost the highlights of how their lives should live out to be. Or how some gratify purchases as the benchmarks by which their lives are gradually escalating to. I know how seductive it is. I’m still on that beaten path sometimes. When I need to ascertain self actualization with Facebook updates about how I’ve been there, been here, with who, when, how much and what I bought.  It’s like that perpetual cycle of patting my back with my own hands.

So where does this lead to actually? Somewhere. Not very far actually.

2010 was a great year to be used as a basis of reflections. A year where my potential was perhaps summarized in one word. “Hopeless”. Which is good actually, knowing that the glimmer of a future, a brighter one that is, exists. I am learning, in small yet monumental ways, that I have a choice. A definite choice of choosing my associations and relations. On who deserves to be a friend. On what needs to be worked on as a leader/human being/friend/associate and so forth.

This year started out well, in the sense that I did not bother thinking about resolutions. I started thinking about December 2011, actually. I started thinking about my financial status on 31st December. I started thinking about the state of my health on 31st December 2011. I started thinking about my family on 31st December 2011. I started thinking about myself from a third person’s perspective come 1st January 2012.

In other words, I need to discover my flow. My zone.

Moving head on to 2011 is all about…

• The ability to ride it – Challenges and frustrations are the best breaking threshold. Anything that breaks you from outside, makes you weaker. Anything that breaks you from within, gives you strength.
• The ability to get into the flow/zone – Knowing which facets of your lives that are worth focusing is essential. Being someone to everyone is a recipe for disaster. Choose your associations well. If Frodo had chose the wrong Fellowship, he would not have made it very far.
• The ability to synthesize – Too many people analyze. They think they are privileged to do so. You judge people. People judge you. Yet nothing productive comes out of the exchange. The innate capability to inject synergy is a vital component in all affairs. Who cares about what you can do? People care about what they can do. Help them.
• The ability to execute – Definitely my bane. I am a man filled with ideas, but I lack the conviction to carry out one action. My credo now. Have one idea, and many actions
• The ability to be The Prince – Read Machiavelli’s “The Prince”. Or “Thick Face Black Heart”. Period.

Why Malay Leaders Irked Me This Few Days

All Clownish And No Substance

 

After having not blogged for quite a while, I knew that I needed a real sense of inspiration to just get that literary juices up and flowing. The inspiration came in the recent revelations that has been dominating the news scene with regards to Mas Selamat’s rendezvous with the law. To cut the long story short, it was revealed during the recent Parlimentary session, that Mr Fugitive has sought the help of his own brother. Thus implicating them. In summary, the unfortunate family was heavily implicated and were “rewarded” for their family piety with jail terms, which in my honest opinions, to be severe. What was even more unfortunate was the fact that Mas Selamat Kestari’s niece, who was said to have helped applied make up in his efforts to be disguised, got the heaviest jail sentencing of 18 months.

The Hypocrisy Of The Malay Leaders

As I watched the news, on the day everything was revealed, I was alarmed at the manner by which the media decided to frame the story. As if reporting the news itself, was not sufficient, the media decided to have a field day of approaching Malay Muslim leaders and preachers in the hope of getting notable quotes. And not failing to disappoint, these selected elite of leaders all condemned the act of harboring Mas Selamat as a sinful act, not befitting of a Muslim living within the social context of Singapore. The incoming Mufti, was explaining and rationalizing the whole episode in his best diplomatic, media friendly manner to ascertain the fact that the family was not acting in accordance with the “syara’”. Malay association leaders gave their takes, in next day’s reported newspaper articles, in an act of solidarity that indeed, these unfortunate family members of Mas Selamat has in a way, failed the community. Minister for Muslim Affairs, expressed his “disappointment” that the family had even considered letting Mas Selamat sleep in for over a day.

I found all these suggestions and comments from the Malay Muslim leaders, to be rather appalling and gut wrenching.

• Any idiot, not a Muslim withstanding, knows that harboring an escaped detainee is wrong. Especially, if the dude is a suspected terrorist. But what is the deal with the need to emphasize on the fact that, according to the “syara”, such acts are considered sinful. What about putting it across, on live TV, by an incoming Mufti, that drinking, fornication, gambling, poverty and a whole lotsa things are also not in accordance with the “syara”? How about the incoming Mufti, saying something useful like, how he acknowledges that it’s okay to skip prayers during National Day performances? I mean, please get real with the context of the discussed matter. Why is there a need to conveniently highlight on the religious implications of harboring Mas Selamat to make it seem like it’s a heaven and hell issue? Why the particular interest in coming out with a comment? Why is there an obligatory need to explain?
• A Malay Minister asked in Parliment, if the disclosure that Mas Selamat had wore a tudung, will implicate the tudung wearing community at large. Asking if there will be unnecessary backlash in the form of more stringent checks or highlights? This dude just asked the most ridiculous question a Malay MP could have asked. To make matters even funnier, a female non tudung wearing MP, was sniggering in the background. This innocent sounding MP apparently does not realize the stupidity of this question, no matter how relevant he may wanna put in as an argument. The truth is, even before Mas Selamat decided to model tudung as a fashion wear, such checks are needed to ensure the safety of this little island. In fact I’ve seen how, MRT patrolling law enforcers round up a Muslim man, wearing a jubah and a songkok, with a beard and holding a book by Mitch Albion. These zealous cadets, questioned this poor man by the pillar, with onlookers around. Mr Malay MP, you need not wear a tudung to be stringently checked. Sport a beard and walk around in songkok, and you’ll know exactly, just how ridiculous your questions were.
• Overheard conversations by a group of Malay teachers chastising the act done by Mas Selamat’s niece, who was an educator by profession too. The niche content of the conversations, was about how stupid the niece was in doing so, thus affecting her life since she will be sacked by the Ministry, and how she will have to pay back the unserved bond, and how she will struggle to rebuild her life since her record has been tainted, and about how her act was a blatant betrayal to the oath she had undertaken when she signed up to the Ministry. To these group of young and unassuming professionals, I say, “Earn your first dollar from selling tissue paper first, before you even dare breathe a word against a fellow Muslim, no matter how wrong she may have been adjudged to be.” These hoohah is not befitting for young idiots like them to summarize, as they have yet to understand fully the scale of the matter. It is easier to form a hypothetical idea about the matter, since it’s not their fathers, brothers, uncles or boyfriends that are being made the figures in the plot. To pass off irresponsible, “I know her” comments are uncalled for. Especially coming from a community that is readily identified as easy bootlickers in all manners of social living.

No matter how wrong, the implicated individuals may have been made out to be, the community has no rights or basis to pass off any assumptions and judgments, even if is to come from an incoming Mufti. The gravity of the subject matter, should not be about them. It should be about the simple inability of this community (ie Malay) to look beyond their acts, and understand fully the fragile state by which we have secluded ourselves into. The immense desire to constantly seek approval, gratification and validation from all quarters of this country is becoming increasingly pathetic. It is almost as if, we want to be apologetic about the things we do, and the things we say. We are so keen in quickly disassociating ourselves from those we see, through media’s eyes, as perpetrators of peace and serenity. We are so keen to embrace the ideal that the community, is always ready 24/7 to forge ties and community livingship with other races and faith. We want to be seen as the hosts, goodwill ambassadors towards a multi cultural understood society. We wanna open our houses and mosques to any Tom, Dick and Harry, in our bid to show just how accepting the community is. We are okay, with the young so brazenly celebrating Halloween and Christmas because we understand that such is the dynamics of this metropolitan styled life. We feel, that we can bend in and around social affairs as long as we receive an invisible endorsement, that yes, the Malay Muslim community ins Singapore is doing everything beyond it’s powers to make sure, Singapore stays a free country.

But whilst we try so hard to light the paths of those in the house with our candle, we (Malay community) did not realize that one day, we might just burn down our house with that same candle.

 

The Not So Important Things

Busy With Trivialities

Here’s a fact.

Your life has been preordained to a term. In such a way, there is nothing you can do about it. You can never add a day more, or decrease it by a single minute. To a believer, life is so trivial, that it has been likened to a playground.

Yet we are guilty of indulgence.

A salesperson is so harped up about his sales target, his income levels, the car that he drives, the house that he owns, the charities he gives, the position of his sales agency, his prowess at developing future salespeople, his devotion to his trade, his wealth of knowledge, his social status in the eyes of others and the thought that all his good fortune are blessings from Allah.

A parent is so enthused by the cleverness of his child, the brand of milk powder he feeds the child, the brand of clothes and shoes the child wears, the social skills of his child, the playgroups the child has been exposed to, the education funds he has managed to build up and the academic capability of the child.

But do all these matter?

Of course they do. But…

Am I harped up by the number of times I can perform my obligatory prayers in a mosque, be on time for my prayers, my ability to stay at least 5 minutes after my prayers on the mat, the regularity by which I open the Quran , the frequency by which I say my dua and even the frequency by which I remember Allah?

It is such a shame that the pace and pressures of life makes it so, that I am busied by the trivialities.

How To Pen An Apology Letter To Your Ex Girlfriend

Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Verb

As a guy, I find the above title repulsive. In an age where it is easier to just text, “Babe, m sorie for wat I did. Swear it will not happen again. See u tonite?”, makes the whole apology letter genre so out dated.

And this is where I believe the value actually lies in. The difficulty of penning your true, honest, unreserved and totally brutal sincerity on a piece of paper using a one dollar pen.

Even now, if I was offered a chance to star in a reality TV show called, “Meeting Your Ex Girlfriend”, I still believe I will stand a real chance in that game segment aptly named, “The Apology Letter”.

Perhaps I am making this post, seem as if it’s only us guys that make mistakes, (which often than not is the case). However, the highlight here is on the fact that, writing an apology letter to an ex partner should be mandatory before anyone gets married. I believe that it will be a therapeutic measure in exorcising that ferocious inner emotional demons.

Trust me.

Anyway, the guideline to writing an apology letter should only be based on two material basis.

1. You cheated on her.
2. She cheated on you.

Idiotic it seems. However, let me rationalize it for you.

Women in general, are not the cheating types. Okay, maybe I’m living in Stone Age for saying this, since there are tonnes of women flocking themselves everywhere these days. But taking this assumption aside, I am just stating a mild fact that women, tend to have  a firmer grip on their emotions, compared to men. Men, by their lustful nature have fleeting commitments, and by this I mean, that they are prone to that usual rendezvous. So, I always take it that women follow men’s tendencies to cheat.

Thus the apology letter.

You see, I had the unfortunate experience of learning this by hand, when an ex partner exclaims, that she had every right to cheat on me, because I started the game. Meaning that she was out to prove that if men can do it, so could the women. Theoretically, she was stating the possible. The hurting point was she applying the practical principles.

Anyway, that’s besides the point.

My point is, I owe her an apology. Apologies for the fact that my jerk-nesss had unknowingly unleashed her very own bitch-ness. It’s like unleashing a deadly virus, capable of infecting a gazillion species of canine. Okay I’m exaggerating.

Point to note is, as a man, no matter what happened, the man deserves to be blamed.

By the way, here’s how to pen an apologetic note to your ex girlfriend.

1. Start off with a proper salutation. Use words such as “To my dearest memory” or “To the very essence of my existence” or “To the lost beats of my dying heart”. Or the cliched, “To the one that I still remember”.
2. Acknowledge her current status if you know. “I know that you are happily married…”,”I believe that having a child…”,”Been a while now but am sure you are attached” as possible opening statements. Never say, “I’m sure you are still having thoughts about us…”. The thing is, even if she is, you are in no position to tell her that.
3. State the disclaimer. Maybe you can write, “I do not wish to rake up about how we used to…” or “I do not have the slightest intention of expressing…”. Or even, “Let me put it straight to you…”
4. Explain the reasoning behind this letter. Tell her that you wish to move on and that this is a way of letting go. Or something as naive as saying that, you will not die in peace should you not be able to say this.
5. In detail, describe your crime / wrongdoing / sins. Make it sound understated, as you certainly do not want to rake up negative energy. And do not be an idiot by indulging in too much details. Make it short, simple and worth salvaging.
6. Pen down your remorse explicitly. Saying sorry is not enough. You have to visually describe what emotional suffering is like. You have to describe in minute details just what it means to be gripped by reruns of you seeing how hurt she was by your actions. You have to highlight the many nights you crumpled a million penned letters with tears streaming down your cheeks. You have to tell her, just how Justin Timberlake’s “What Goes Around Comes Around” song makes you feel like a total buffoon. In other words, sound like as if, you need salvation.
7. End off with your true feelings. If you are apologetic and you want her back in your life, tell her so. If she’s married with a son, and so are you, just tell her you love her no matter what the circumstances are. If you just wanna be friends for the rest of your sorry life, wish her all the best and let her know that you are always around. If you feel that you stand a chance at another shot with her, tell her that you are leaving the country in a day for good, and tonight is your last night to savor any memories.

So there you have it. 7 quick tips to help you along. I believe the same may work if you are a lady penning for a dude. Just end off without point 7 though. Cause nothing lightens up a man’s day than the slightest hope that you will still see him. You know what I mean.

Irony Of It All

The irony is evident. There are scores of young Muslims, extolling the virtues of Ramadhan and fasting, through their Facebook statuses, Twitter updates, blog posts and pictures. These selected group takes pain to explain and conceptualize the idea of fasting to non Muslims. These group are dilligently doing the works of da’wah.

Then there are these group. The ones I am looking at now. The type who slurps down a bowl of mee and gargles Coke for lunch. The individuals who brazenly eat in foodcourts and eateries. Clearly disregarding the fact that only women bleed, once in a month. The type who stares at weary and clearly distraught fasting individuals like myself, as if I am a walking sinner.

Unfortunately nothing drastic separates these two groups. Sugar brown with a Muslim name. Separated only by the discourse of their actions. Thus the apparent irony.

In context, should slander and bad vibes are arrowed onto the Muslim community, in Singapore specifically, no offence should be taken. Cause clearly, such an embarassment is self inflicted.

The major part of establishing a da’wah campaign, in my opinion, should still be done on a relational interaction. Face to face, individuals to individuals. Not necessarily focused through media 3.0. Not that it is not effective. It’s just that via laymen observations, it seems to get worse by the year.

But of course who cares right? When a recognized body like MUIS and its mosques are more interested in being portrayed in the media, cooking porridge, we can just feel the leverage we actually have.

Oh well, in a week’s time, irregardless of fasting statuses, everyone seems to be entitled to a day of Syawal. That always seems to be the case.

Best Advice I Could Give To A Single Lady

It’s that simple.

Some girls just think too highly of themselves. They believe that the finito to a man’s desire and dreams end with them. They overestimate themselves. They believe in an atrocious philosophy that a man who dwindles on his options is just missing out on them. In fact, some of these girls might even believe that they are God’s gifts to men in general. They will brand men as useless, unworthy of their attention, that they are independent and totally non reliant on the appreciation of men and in a last attempt to conceal their insecurities, they will brand men as players.

Not that I think all men are worthy of being put on a pedestal. Men can be useless. And they are also good at proving to these girls that the assumptions are true.

But maybe, some men. Few and definitely rare, just wants to stop playing around. They just want to chill it off.

“Never hate the player. Hate the fact that you think you can play the game better, when the fact is, the player has got tired of playing.”

How Are Those Jeans?

I have only one wearable jeans. It happens to be the cheapest jeans available, having bought it at only $14.90. It has no real brand worthy of a second or third look. It happens to be just another washed up looking jeans.

Realized then that over the past 15 years of jeans wearing, I happened to own only 7 pairs of jeans. Only one was worthy of being called a branded jeans. A Levis. Given by a girlfriend, by which I still own till now. The last two jeans I wore, were bought almost five years ago in Bangkok. Both now has holes eating away at the knee and bum area. The first pair of jeans I had, was a pair aptly named Criss Cross jeans. A multi colored pair, that was the rave back in schooling days. Mine was eerily colored green on one side and creamy white on the other. Scary visuals I assure you. After that piece went out of fashion, I hopped onto a pair called Alien Workshop jeans. Baggy styled jeans which I wore with pride, cause it seemed darn cool, to have a pair of alien eyes sewn onto the pocket.

Amidst all those period, I did experiment with a couple few pairs. But the relationships did not go past two wearings. There were the Cooper jeans. The Camel jeans. The G jeans. The fact was, I never liked them, so I never quite owned them.

So there you have it. One branded Levis jeans which is neatly folded away in my cupboard of memories, along with two Bangkok bought jeans, that were priced at $30 SGD. For two pairs that is.

And now, my current unbranded jeans, which I am taking a liking for. It snugs nicely around my ample waistline, loosely hanging, to create a James Dean persona whenever I strut it around. The washed up effects are the one brilliant piece of visual candy, in my honest opinion. I just love the fact that it looks used and dirty. Kinda synonymous with my look on life. It should be soiled and experienced. ( That sounded wrong )

Then I flirted with the question. Why am I attached to only one jeans? For hell sure, I can afford branded ones, a few pairs and maybe odd colored ones…again. But why, the resistance to go out and look for more pairs.

I figured that most of us, may have a lot of pairs or can afford to have a few pairs of jeans in our fashion lineup. But am damn sure, at the same time, that we are also guilty of having one extremely loved and most favorite piece of all. The one that we will just grab and wear on. The one that seems to fit all occasions and situations. The one that never seems to go out of fashion. The one that just screams comfort.  The one piece that shouts, YOU.

I guess, that is how, we may have also selectively chosen the paths, we lead in our life. The partner that we choose. The job that we work in. The sports we engage in. The memories we keep. We always seem to be suffocated with choices these days. We have a new sexy colleague. We have better paying prospects. We have new activities to occupy our time. We have new relationships to foster. We have new cars and phones to buy. The list is endless.

Despite all that, we still seem to have a preference for a particular something or someone. We just seem to be utterly comfortable being around it. It seems to fit in snugly. It never seems boring.  It just complements. At times, it just seems perfect.

The same goes with my dreams and hopes. I have one very old dusty piece of dream, folded somewhere in my consciousness. I might have put it away cause it seemed out of time and out of fashion. It may have been put away, because it was stained and torn. Perhaps, I just chucked it away because new ones were given to me. But now I realized, I need to take it out and dust it off. And perhaps start wearing them again.

Like that piece of loved jeans, I should be wearing it with pride and love. Because it is my jeans and no one else. It is comfortable and that is all that matters.

What Are You Building?

I read something profoundly simple in a passage from a book earlier today. In it, was the story of the bricklayers.

There is an old story about three bricklayers. One day, a curious child approaches the bricklayers to see what they are doing. When the child reaches the first bricklayer and asks,“What are you doing?,” the bricklayer groans, spits, and wipes his brow as he glances up from his work and says with a grunt, “I’m layin’ brick, what does it look like, kid!” The child says, “Oh,” and moves on to the next bricklayer. When the child asks the second bricklayer about what he is doing,the bricklayer moans and says with a downcast sigh, “I’m earning a living.” The child thanks him and moves on to the third bricklayer. The third bricklayer springs up with a sparkle in his eye and excitement in his voice and says, “I’m building a cathedral!” As the child listens, the bricklayer goes on, with great enthusiasm, to describe the vision that he is apart of.

How many of us can actually raise a hand up sincerely and say that we are building a cathedral? It’s a tough world out there. Many of us, do actually fall into one of the three categories of bricklayers mentioned. Sometimes, our purpose as a bricklayer may be muddled up as the demands of provisions, expectations and aspirations get mixed up into one big job.

When I first started out my career in financial planning, it was purely on the basis of monetary rewards, cause my “cathedral” was actually the hope of being an established self empowerment speaker. I wanted the money to be a capital for me to start on the adventure, of setting up my own company. For a while, it made sense. Be in a career line that allowed me to earn quick buck, and then establish myself.

As time passed by however, I grew into my career. It became a job of some sort. As years went by, I forgot about my dreams. It entailed me to work, because I needed to provide for myself and my small family. My “cathedral” never got passed its foundations.

People sometimes mistake their effort as worthy, just because someone tells them it is. A principal may say to an educator, that his “bricklaying” (teaching) is actually laying the foundation of a generation’s future. A sales manager may say to a consultant, that his “bricklaying” (selling) is actually changing the financial future of an individual. These old age wisdoms might be half truths.

Cause think about it. How many of us cans sincerely put our palm to our beating heart and proclaim to the world, that we are indeed building our “cathedral”? How many of us can actually lay claim to the fact that our mundane and insignificant effort every single day, is a process, meant to build a “cathedral” for ourselves, for the admiration of future generations.

But this story illustrated to me a simple point. We have a choice actually, to start seeing our efforts, to be a part of something greater. The third bricklayer definitely saw the end vision of his efforts. He saw himself as the bricklayer who build the greatest cathedral, everyone in the future, will admire and be proud of. It brings joy and enthusiasm.

So maybe, you and I can really start defining our “cathedrals” and quit giving pointless run off the mill answers such as,

• I’m changing the world
• I’m making a difference in the community
• I’m helping my community
• I’m helping create a better financial future

Maybe we can start by being specific. Rather than stating that we are laying bricks for a building. What kind of building?

How To Embrace The Wolverine In Us?

Dealing With Options

One of the beauties about growing wiser, is the ability to selectively position yourself in a state of mind where not everything may seem as important as they are made out to be. What I mean by this is that I no longer, press myself to think about issues that may sometimes  have no relevant impact on my future. Matters such as whether my social football team is progressing or disintegrating. Matters such as whether it pays to think about other people too much. Or even about the upcoming Hari Raya celebrations. Truth is, the mind has, over the past years been cluttered with trivialities of the highest order.

Sometimes, close individuals in my life, relate to me issues and predicaments that they face with regards to career, colleagues and relationships. I have learned over these years, the deep power of listening, without the intense need to give an opinion. Back then, when I was a bit younger and assuming that I knew much, I always seem to have an opinion to issue out whenever close people relate to me their highlights. But after being married, going through much via my own experiences and perhaps wising up a bit, I have learned that such an approach can be too pretentious at times.

People Need A Listening Ear Not An Opinion

I have learned to appreciate the process of listening thoughtfully and giving an opinion only on the basis of usefulness. The wife sometimes comes back home with a shoulder load of contents about how emotionally draining it has been in school. For the past three years of her involvement, all I did, was to be a soaking pillow for her rants and whines. And I believed it has helped her toughen up that quotient about being emotionally strong. I feel no reason to give my thoughts about how a situation ought to be handled  by her whenever she faces difficulties. Somehow, in the midst of her disclosures, it always opens up ample rooms for her to explore alternatives in terms of reactions. And all these alternatives are derived from her own thought processes. As a result, she matures emotionally and grows in stature and independence. I learned from these three years of listening to her, that what an individual needs at times is not an answer. What they need is the room, for them to experiment with a lot of answers and conclude on their own what can be the best for them in any given situation.

The Wolverine In All Of Us

By instinct, I believe people have the ability to solve their deepest issues. Whatever the case there is. Recently when Kai related to me some things about  his everyday dealings, and how he handled them, I silently chuckled in delight. Cause in my inner ramblings, I knew how Kai, could have by pure nature and character, solved the issues at hand. But that is the beauty of choice. Cause when one has the dynamics of other people being involved, we always seem to chuck that instinctive reactions aside, and tries to proactively respond with a clear head. In my personal opinion, such a manner of response, by theory, usually delays or meanders a swift closure to the issue. But, the important thing to note is that, when one faces choices, one usually goes with the one that  brings about seemingly balanced outcomes.

I think it is just like the case of Wolverine. If Wolverine was to face Sabretooth alone in a jungle, the instinctive need to survive will mean that Wolverine will be all claws and hairs on Sabretooth. Attacking relentlessly and unleashing a beast like response, that scream, “If I am to come out of this it’ll only be over your dead body.” Such a psychology, I believe is innate within us. By nature, I think we will react to events in our lives like that. In the working world especially. We lack judgement, thoughts and clarity. We fight through the events and difficulties based on guts, instincts and intuitions. Choices are usually limited to, survive or die.

Third Choice?

But if you throw into that mix, an element. An external element that can be in the form of an individual, a family dynamic, an emotion, an eventful outcome or even something as random as moods, it can be a different case altogether. If we were to throw into the mix, an ailing woman, Wolverine’s instinctive nature will have to take account a totally different complex altogether. Cause in the mix, is a new consequential element. So Wolverine’s options have now been expanded into protect or survive or die. That is such an unwelcome treat don’t you think? What if that ailing woman is a metaphor, for things such as your future? Then, it may well denotes the fact that you can no longer take the option of reacting instinctively. You have to think. Think and select a better course of action.

The point I am trying to make here is that, there is an intense interchange of dynamics when it comes to selecting your next course of actions in whatever you do. Even from my personal takes, there are times when reacting purely on character is the best way to pull through an event. There are times when diligence is needed especially, if your instincts can create a big kahuunah.

The powerful individual, to me, is the one who knows these two aspects and can inter changeably select any course of actions at will without the need to over think. This individual will have the clarity to distinguish objectivity and subjectivity and from there, select the appropriate outlines needed. The concluding factor that makes this individual so powerful, is that no matter which course of actions he/she takes, his principled essence about himself will never waiver.

It is hard, no doubt. We are an obliging community. Willing to comply to avoid conflicts.

The rule of thumb with regards to engagements such as this, will be…“No matter what happens, walk out from it a better man.”

Why You Should Be A Creative Force

I wonder if, during your early years of school, and you were taught history as a subject, you really started to use that brain? It is not an insult, but rather an observation. The observation is plain and simple. We were taught what was already there. Presented in subjects, via textbooks and assessments. So, rarely, do we want to question things that are presented in an organized manner, because sometimes, the answers and elaborations are not easily available. Or we did not dare to.

Take for instance, my obsession with the mystical pyramids in Egypt. Early on, in my learnings, I was told that the Egyptians built pyramids. For an 11 year old, barely reached puberty sorta boy, I accepted that with the clarity of innocence. As I grew up, and began picking up books from library shelves, I discovered more facets and aspects about the pyramids. Of course, they were built by Egyptians. What I discovered were things about astronomy and so forth, about angles and maths. And many others, unknown to me back then.

In fact, now that am in my 30s, I just thought to myself, why triangles? I mean, why choose triangles as the building shape? And why not circles or squares or star or any other odd shapes imaginable by these ancient people?

Whatever the case is, I learned something which holds true till today. Whoever the architect of the pyramids were, he must have been one creative visionary. It is one thing to build a monument. It is totally another to build one that can withstand ages of wear, and still be around as testimony to that creativity. This is where creativity is extended into the realm of lasting legacy.

Most of us are still boxed into a thinking that creativity is about doing things differently. So, there are those who are in the same activity, only with varying degrees of differentiation. Whether it garners results or not is subjective, depending on activity types.

But what about you and I? What if we decide not to do the same thing differently? What if we decided to do a different thing differently? Sounds illogical, but there’s an essence behind it.

To answer my titled question, I think it’s justified by the fact that intense competition these days result in fewer process time to do some serious thinking. Creative thinking to be exact. So what we have are ideas, that are good in its basic form. Standard creative approach as means of differentiation, will just mean that people will perhaps change a color, picture or word in a marketing collateral. Or, instead of saying A, you say B. In other words, improvements. Slight, but noticeable improvements. So, people can lay claim to that credibility of being creative.

I think creativity should go beyond saying B instead of A. You will be such a creative force if you are able to translate the exact formulation of a situation and change its dynamic totally. So, even if a problem is presented as an alphabet, you can contextualize the exact same thing into numbers, and people still buy your ideas.

That’s the beauty of being a creative force. It allows you to break away from the rudimentary things and establish a legacy of credentials and uniqueness.

Too Much Of Self Developments

People sometimes fail to see beyond the superficial. This is especially true if you are the sort, who is heavily induced on a high volume dosage of positivity. When this happens, you may hallucinate the prickly thorns in life as sweet scented petals of roses.

I was like that. Heavily sedated with that air of idealism, that the Red Sea will part for me, and the Sahara desert will be filled with water and the rainbow’s end falling nicely on my doorstep. In fact, when I was emotiionally wrecked by rejections, demands, whines and complains of society, I told myself that I probably deserved it. Okay, that might sound extreme.

The truths is, like yourself, I was hopeful. Brimming with the need to tell myself,”It’s all right, things will get better.”

In retrospect, not all aspects of life, should contain too much positivity. Not all aspects should realistically be filled with theatrical hopes. In my case, I probably spend a good two years, telling myself that if I tried just a bit harder, that girl of my dreams, will wake up wanting me. That irresponsible habit of self indulging into too much self help materials, made me breathe and live idealism. I painted pictures of me in a posh car, living in a bachelor pad, bedding a million women, when I reach the pinnacle of success.

But what if, back then, I was not too bothered about improving myself? What if you were just perfect the way you were, and society itself were the ones not able to contain you? What if it was the girl of your dreams who truly had problems with accepting perfect creatures like yourself? What if it was really your boss’s mistakes at management that just tilted you towards resignation? What if indeed it’s your superiors weaknesses at recognizing your talents that denied your promotion? What if it is really true that your colleagues suck?

What if after all these years of self beating, and the constant need for self improvements, you discovered that it was never really about you to begin with? What if your life is just fine the way it is? What if your constant need for improvements become an addictive barrier towards really fulfilling your destiny.

One thing I am realizing slowly is that the references you use for self developments and improvements are sometimes, just not truly, worth implementing. Cause, you and I are trying to mold our improvements towards a certain degree of someone else’s. So when are we truly living our life, if we are truly busy with living the life others are putting in as examples,

There is nothing wrong with self improvements. Just that sometimes, there is nothing too much to improve if we believe in our own uniqueness. Our model of self development, should be the one we are living now.

Size 33 Please

I rarely experience horror. But today, I experienced horror explicitly. The moment I entered office, an unknown colleague remarked,”Jaz, nice. Tight pants huh?” I looked at the frontal bulge and smiled sheepishly. Darn. It definitely was not a case of mistaken identity. It did feel tight. I did feel a lack of room, “down there”. That irresponsible remark by my colleague left a bitter taste of self consciousness. It felt like a long fall from grace.

A good two years ago, I swore I cried, when I noted that my weight stagnanted at 60kg. And it has been like that for the past gazillion years. Metric average even indicated that I was grossly underweight for my height. I was earmarked to be in the 70kg range. I’m now standing at 65kg. Still it is not a cause for joy. You know why?

Cause unknowingly, my physique started to have a mind of its own. It began developing a penchant for junk food. Burgers to be exact. Getting married and getting a son also help “carved” out a body proportion, that equated sideways growth with emotional happiness. Which by the way, I am not denying. I am happy.

I will not say I am growing fat. I am just saying that I am at a waist size that I am not comfortable with, and am willing to work hard at beating it. After work, I rushed to my regular retail store and tried out new pants. I first asked for a size 31. For all the while, I’m accustomed to a size 29 or 30. It shocked me when size 31 barely fitted me. Thought to myself that there must be a mistake with the tailoring. So I ask, for a one size up. As I pulled the pants up my legs, I still felt the tightness around the thighs and I silently groaned. It cannot be, I said. When I turned to a side profile and looked in the mirror, it was another ghastly reflection of an oversized me with a mini pants look. I then peered out of the dressing room, and silently called out to the salesgirl. “Size 33 got?”. The sweet little thing stole a flirting glance at me and smiled. That smile pierced my inner soul beyond redemption. I knew what she was saying in her mind. She was having a field day exclaiming,” This dude’s fat.” As she passed me the pants, I felt a thousand boulders falling on my shoulders. The catalysmic horror dawned on me when I finally realized that size 33 fits like a glove on my waist.

So ladies and gentlemen. I, Mohd Hijazi solemnly declares that I wear size 33. It’s not my bra size, eventhough I wish it was. It’s my waist’s circumference.

There are things in life that make me horrified. I just overlooked waist size being one of them.

What Is The Use?

The recent murder of a 28 year old Malay man, by an unlawful assembly of 7 Malay men disturbs me. It disturbs me because, I just cannot pinpoint a valid reason as to why, anyone will want to waste a good life away, by killing someone else. For whatever sentiments or emotions, any members of the community may have about this issue, I just can safely say that there is still a significant number of Malay men out there, who cannot find anything worthwhile to do at 4 am.

On a good note however, it begs the question, as to what can be done to elevate the status of an atypical Malay man.

The past weeks have seen Malay men in different lights. There was that newspaper article quoting a thesis done by a lady that brought about the questionable tagging of, “Malay men are useless”? It was a report that had me laughing, because, obviously, such a topic does not require intensive research or a thesis to expound upon. I learned early in my life when I studied History that Malay men had “useless” written all over. Even in myths, when the Sultan of Malacca was willing to carve open his son’s heart as a dowry for the Princess of Mount Ophir, I knew that Malay men were “useless”. It was further reiterated in history, when I realized that the Temenggong of this island namesake, Temasek, sold Singapore to a British bloke for pittance. It was a conclusion on my naive understanding that Malay men, were technically “useless”.

Usefulness is a broad and subjective topic to broach upon. If going by some of the predicaments that my wife and friends are going through, usefulness is a term people use on individuals who can be counted upon to pick up on the slack of  lazy, incompetent and totally “buffoon-ic” instructions of colleagues/superiors. Usefulness may also be the calling card for those who adhere and comply to instructions, due to the irrational fear of being driven into that mold of outcasts. Or usefulness can be a verb rather than an adjective. Most of the time, it happens to be, anyway. When we say someone is useful, don’t we have that flashing and vivid image of that “usefulness” being a work or job being done.

It seems that I hate the tag of being “useful” these days. It carries a negative connotation. It carries a tinge of being dispensable. I think I will cringe if someone said this about me,”Oh Jaz? Yeah, he’s useful having around,” Dammit. That’s what they say about spare tires you know? It’s “useful” to have one in your trunk in case , you have a flat tire.

These days, I am trying to drum up to my wife about the need to recognize her values and worth. Enough life stories has been shared to me, to make this, a worthy principle to carry around in life. Being indispensable is hard to achieve, but the starting point upon which it can be accomplished, is by realizing your worth first.

Let’s face the simple fact. People are generally and intrinsically selfish by nature. A social dynamic that sees someone gaining a foothold in terms of popularity and influence will not sit in well with those emotionally challenged. As a consequence, they will seek to destabilize that growth by stifling the self image of the concerned party. You know how these people do it? Well, they’ll state their awareness of your indispensable features and qualities firstly. Then they will lump and dump, responsibilities on you, by citing that you have the right “usefulness” to perform it, because you are the “right” person for the job. Then they will sit back and watch as you wither and falter under the load of unnecessary responsibilities. When you do a great job, they’ll lay claim to the credit of recognizing your “usefulness”. When you fail, they’ll highlight their ironic disappointment that you fell short of their “high” expectations. Moronic? Definitely.

But I’ve discovered the simple realization that being “useful”, is actually about knowing when to apply myself when I feel like it. Being “useful” is me knowing that my presence in a certain situation enhances the dynamics, not just as a prop. Being “useful” is about me choosing, the kinda people and job scopes I want to associate myself with. “Usefulness” in my perspective is about putting across that image of certainty, that my qualities and values, multiplies the whole unique output of any given scenarios. It’s not about filling in for someone, or being someone else’s agenda or being at the beck and call of anyone. It’s about being indispensable.

Ending off, my take away is this. Leonardo Da Vinci could have been “useful” in a lot of areas in his life for the sheer depth in terms of knowledge and insights he had. He could have been “useful” to have in the kitchen, or farm, or factory or even cemetery. He could have been “useful” to be at the beck and call of rich aristocrats who could have paid him to design doors, mousetraps or even sex machines. Without a doubt, Da Vinci could have done all this, with the simplest of effort. But the fact is, he did not. He applied his “usefulness” in his niche categories of interest and passion, and look at the kinda legacy he left for everyone else. He could have been an “anybody” in his time. But he decided to be a “somebody” for the future.

And darn, he did prove that he was “useful” to have around at the same time…

When Morons Like Me Blog.

Plastered Blog

Sometimes I wonder why people wanna read my blog posts. Seriously.

There have been episodes in my life when the emergence of content sensitive posts, on my blog have either ruffled the feathers of those unassuming enough. Sometimes, my blog posts have been witnesses to the destruction of long term relationships, because I was so hell bent on expressing my feelings, emotions and thoughts on this online platform. There have been vile and comments on my blog posts. There have been and probably will still be, resentment, dissatisfactions and of course misunderstandings on the readers’ part, if they literally judge the posts I write.

There have also been in the past, occurrences when I’ve been advised and told to not be so explicit with my expressions. Write about fair weathered topics, neutral subjects or something as interesting as the rain falling on the roof of a coffee shop. Yet I persisted in writing down posts that relieve me of any emotional baggages at night. I write and type with the kind of euphoria, a mental patient would.

People sometimes do not understand that there is a reason I can choose to be raw and frank, disregarding the need to please my readers. When I stopped blogging a few years back, I lost an outlet of expressions. Also at that time, the content of mushy expressions I had put forth in my blog posts had led to the conclusion of a long term relationship. It was naivety on my part, of course. But that episode taught me something. I can choose to be careful with my blog entries and totally miss out on the essence of my life’s experiences. Or, I can choose to type without a care on the repercussions, and at the same time, it will serve as the most accurate account for my biography.

Maybe it’s just me. But I do not want my life to be politically correct. I want it to be, realistically accurate. It’s a tad ridiculous to write posts that seem to paint how lovely a mangrove swamp is, or how the rainbow is made of seven distinct colors, or that the Sun rises in the East or  maybe even what I had for snacks. I just figured that I am gonna die one day, and my blog posts must serve a learning purpose for readers should they stumble unknowingly. I am being modest here, but I seriously think that there will come a day when a blog post of mine might just change the mind of a person wanting to commit suicide.

The gist of my blog has evolved over the years. Just a few years back, every post will literally be filled with unconditional declarations of love for someone. It did have a fair number of readers. These days, my blog seems to be revamping with my involvement with people from all over this tiny island.

You, the reader, is a very important component on what this blog is all about sometimes. Because there are times, when I literally wanna converse my unspoken thoughts to you. There are times when I just wanna convey to you, my hopes, my dreams and my fears. It’s just that soothing comfort of knowing that there is a God created individual behind this screen in another space, listening in to these words.

This is what I think.

The fear of exclusion is overwhelming. There are some of us, unwilling enough to write what we feel or think about. We wanna be safe in that element of expressions. We want to sound right. We want to sound justified, so that our self worth can be justified. We want to tell ourselves after posting a blog post, that the entry will be pleasing on the comprehensions of readers. We want to feel that the right thing about blogging is amicability. We want to be part of that group who blogs about our interesting careers, life, relationships and dreams. Of course, we can do that. It’s an absolute right.

In life we can choose to be safe. Or we can choose to be a moronic idiot, with ideas, judgement, assumption, misconstrued informations and bias attitude towards life. And these latter group sometimes blog. And when they blog, they tend to hurt, step on nuclear reactor’s trip wires, destroy goodwill relationships and of course lead to occasional lapses and breach into the domain, called feelings.

But blog posts, were intended to be one thing. Self expressions. If you have to think too much into what you wanna type out, then you are better off writing in that $3.00 key and lock diary. It’s safer.

Don’t read too much into this post though. I’m just being moronic.

Letting Go And Moving On

I recently saw a printed ad by the Ministry of Defence, targeted specifically for the purpose of recruitment. The thing that caught my eye was the designation given to the position. DXO. Knowing how Singapore’s establishments love the usage of acronyms, it still tickled me to think that the designation sounded like a brand of liquor. The PR party of this ad even designed a chic looking logo that I sincerely thought came off the logo pages for pubs and bars, like Bar None and Double O. And, to just accentuate the whole youthful image of the ads, the pictures showed individuals dressed in corporate wear, with backgrounds of an office setting. I thought that all these expensive prints were just brilliant marketing. To breathe life into a much mundane view of a Defence Officer, they rebranded the whole scope and perspective. Refreshing nevertheless.

Talking about refreshing, it makes for a good note that I had tendered my resignation from my position as a financial planner. I had difficulty writing out my resignation letter, as it’s been ages since I last did one. And also because of that tinge of sentiments I had. From singlehood, to marriage and then to fatherhood, the years there had been memorable and indeed satisfying. It was just a bit regrettable that I had to leave without pre discussions or even mutual chats with colleagues. A handful of colleagues, were nice enough to drop in a call or a message. For the majority however, I clearly saw what outlined their values and perspectives. Perhaps the greatest disappointment was with the amount of lost admiration and respect I had for my manager whom over the years had proved to be a worthy mentor. Though by no fault of his, I realized just how dynamics can change by virtue of assumptions, perspectives and wrongful dissemination of well intentioned motives. If there is one thing I learned from my years of growing up, is that a parent should never compare anything within siblings, bad mouth within siblings or an even worse thing, is not to trust any of your child.

Apart from the prospect of better opportunities, I resigned because I saw the expiration of my usefulness. In most team dynamics that I’ve been in, I always know my function. I lead by sources of unbounded imagination, creativity and resourcefulness. I’m the one who comes up with possibilities. And I always recognize who are the star players and the captains of a team dynamic, and I almost never envy such accolades because I recognize the values, such individuals bring to a team.

But sometimes, people like my manager pits things in such a way where I cannot see my function. And my disillusionments slowly crippled into frustrations, which eventually made me resolute enough to put a torrid affair to an end. It was not a case of egos clashing, but it was more of me knowing that it was for the good of the situation. A successful team like the one I was in, will remain successful, because of its excellent foundation. But for me, it was just a case of knowing when to bow out.

Whatever the case is, I bear no remorse. Still remember the conversation I had with the manager, where he mentioned that he had no qualms about letting go of my non performing female colleagues, should they still avoid coomunication with him. At that point in time, it struck a chord with me, because I am of the firm belief that as a leader, one should not be emotionally presumptuous to detach his/herself quickly whenever a mini crisis involving team members occur. Funny, that the exact scenario is actually playing itself with me now perhaps being the mentioned party. Alas, such is the fragility of relationships. Perhaps, it’s my fault for having over expectations on what a Muslim leader would do. But in a cut throat world of high end performances, people are inclined to follow the rulebook that says, “Every good leader is a good follower.” on my end, I just decided that I am no longer the good follower I should be. My resentment has reached the zenith of acceptance. I accept the fact that I was not good and compliant enough to follow the “Success breeds success” mantra.

At times, I pray that when I reach a semblance of success,God willing, that may I not be fooled by the random number of people I have influenced or changed, to be the barometer by which I can lay claim towards fulfillment. My experience with successful people has indicated that there indeed lies a path worthy of following, should one desire to follow and achive the levels of success. Perhaps people may say that I am self pacifying myself by saying this, but I really trust myself and my judgements, to accord the conviction, that I can hack a path through that jungle myself too. God willing.

I do not know what the future holds currently for me, but I always tell myself the same thing over the years of underachievements. It’s about self discovery. If I know more about myself through repeated failures, so be it. God has a future in store for me, that much I know, so am not gonna beat myself too much over this fiasco. I’ve enjoyed every bit of my time and I am just moving on from here.

Elementary, My Dear Watson

Here’s a thought I had in the shower. Do you plan your life according to your goals? Or do you plan your goals according to your life? It sounds ridiculously stupid but I was just asking myself if the consequences and outcomes were gonna be vastly different.

The case for my argument is this. Would the quality of either your goals or life be compromised, if one chooses different pathways of thoughts?

In retrospect, I wonder if the state of my life I am in now, is a direct consequence of one or a mixture of the two.

Let’s say I plan my life according to my goals. What it entails is that, I will have to first set a goal/goals to be earmarked as destination points. So what I’m doing is charting out a pin on the board with the tag Point B. From then on, I will have to figure out a backtrack path to a point that I can tag with Point A, and that path is basically the route called Life am supposed to live. That is a simplistic representation. If my goal is to earn a million dollars, I will have to like literally work out a strategy backwards. Atypical of any goal setting criteria.

Case number two is where I plan my goals accoring to my life. In simplistic picture, I imagine a scenario that if I am living a life as a beggar, my goal will have to be in accordance or aligned with that as a beggar. Is that good? Subjective call, cause the element in question here is necessity. Meeting necessities results in some, contentment. So, according to the state of my life, my goal is just about earning my daily keeps.

At this point, the question is really about idealism and realism. The first option of living a goal centric life, may result in a focused, driven and purposeful way of living it up. The second option will of course put one in that live each day as it is mode, where contentment is the call of the day.

It is possible to intertwine both modes to balance life. It is after all an elementary choice.

Looking Any Way

You can look at life from two angles. It can be a series of unexpected, challenging, unorthodox, unconventional, full of surprises, turbulent and totally random experiences. Or you can choose to look at it as a predestined, unavoidable, mundane, routine, non committed and totally unlucky set of outcomes.

There are many choices that we can make in life, and most of the times, the consequences and effects can be so widely random. If you choose to be great, it is so much easier to design your own path to greatness, such that being alone is no longer a privilege, but rather, an expensive state of life to be in.

Most of us think that our state of life can be better. Some believe it should be better. A handful insist it must be better. One or two might think that their life is the best to lead. No one is right and everyone is definitely not wrong. So where does that leave you and me?

I think life is already better. If we wake up tomorrow, it is definitely better than staying dead tomorrow and realizing it has to happen today. Or, when we get hungy and we eat. It is definitely better than walking on an empty tank. Or, when we realize that better is a state of mind rather than the fulfillment of materialistic destiny.

Sometimes people hate my guts, for blantanly writing posts that seem to undermine their level of success. They love pinning the tag of underachiever on me, as a means of exerting their superiority complex on me. Their unfounded siege mentallity, of me versus them, has been eating away at their ego. Which is sad, because I feel misunderstood.

The truth is, I enjoy success. I enjoy materialistic wealth. I love being synonymous with the tag of high fliers. I love the zeal and freedom of leading a fulfilling life.

But I do not wish to be a hypocrite in my chase for them.

It Is Always About The Right Question

The Right Answer

The Toddler’s Case

Earlier in the week, I made an observation of an interesting dynamic. I saw a young toddler, perhaps barely three years of age, trying to climb over a gate. It was not a high gate, and I sincerely believed, that with several attempts, he would have made it. Standing beside the toddler was an adult, obviously his dad. What was interesting though, that as the toddler was trying his level best to huff and puff, climbing over the gate, the dad kept repeating the same mantra, “Don’t climb. You’ll fall. Don’t climb.”

That struck me big time. I recalled, just how I repeated the same lines to my son, whenever he tries to climb on the coffee table, dance on the bed or even just try to climb the sofa. I said, “Dont. You’ll fall.” Seeing the whole scene being played out, by strangers, was enlightening. It enlightened my life. Especially on this thing I call, possibility outcomes.

My thoughts are this. The act of climbing over the gate, may seem as something risky, from the perspective of adults, whom in their years of growing up, realized that you can fall from such a venture. And such falls are emotionally attached to the neuro associations of pain.

But, the toddler, being a toddler, never experienced that association because he never did fall in the first place. All he (toddler) saw, was the possibility of that gate being climbable. All we (adults) saw, was the possibility of the toddler falling flat on his face. Thus, we refrain the act in totality. And in that act of refraining, we may have totally eliminated the toddler’s chance of experiencing the possible outcome of having that gate climbed.

As adults, we are freakily paranoid. We, beat our chest in triumphant joy when we hit our sales targets, but shudder at the possibility of sporting a beard for fear of image distortion. We, clamor for recognitions and fame, but grumble at the thought of being humble about it. We, look forward towards championing the cause of rights for the community, but we ill talk our community like rodents in sewers. Are we not, guilty of eliminating so many possible outcomes for our lives, just because our adult peers, colleagues, mentors and family members, told us to be safe. Because it is adult like to be safe.

That Right Answer

In school, we were told that two plus two has to work out to four. There were no two ways about it. Factually and on the basis of intellectual academic rationale, that is a no brainer. But we can never ask a one year old that question right? Because, one year olds, have not been programmed or designed to answer such questions. Yet. So, we wait. And when he has attended enough education, we applause him when he comes home and cries out, “Mum, Dad…two plus two is four!”

But such mode of learning is stifling. At least from my perspective. I mean, what is so great about two plus two being four, if everyone else knows that. That is information in my opinion. Knowledge could be, how many permutations can there be, to get four as an answer.

• 10 – 6
• 2 x 2
• 24 – 20
• 8 / 2
• 1 + 3
• 9 – 5

You get the idea. Perhaps an almost infinite number of permutations.

My argument is on the allowability for a new way at interpreting conclusions/outcomes. Just because you get four, does not mean you comprehend the process. There has to be room for experimentations on getting into any outcomes.

The world can perhaps be such an interesting place to relate to, if all answers especially, those pertaining to life are given room to be explored. Am sure that prominent academics and geniuses got their way around by not being fixated at finding the golden answer to a question. Am sure they allowed themselves the luxury of constantly asking golden questions to an answer.

Anyway, the toddler episode made me realized the method by which we have been brought up and conditioned to live in. Our maverick streak of being adventurous has been stifled by the frustrating need to be safe. It is a condition brought upon by years of warnings and scoldings by “learned” adults. Some of us are more unfortunate when we find ourselves constrained by the idea that there is only one way to lead our lives. Since, “they” will warn us, that living a life other than what was prescribed, as pathetic and pitiful.

Adults are preoccupied with safety. And that itself is an ironic risk. It curbs the innate survival element, that people of old, had always thrived upon. Alexander the Great did not conquer Asia, by playing RISK boardgame.

The final thought about this is, how many of us are actually living within the zone of answers given or taught to us by others? How many of us, like myself, who knows the answer, yet still want to find the infinite number of permutations at deriving it? The fact is, everyone is entitled to live out their life with different methods.  I just prefer mine, to be a bit more complicated. Heh.

Revisiting Passion

Looking Through

How do I begin?

I’ve lost all sense of vision I had when I started my stint as a financial consultant. It’s not about passion. I am passionate about this career, because achieving financial freedom is an elusive and engaging idea that I wish to pursue with my clients. I dare not proclaim to be the basis by which financial freedom can be achieved by my clients. But I dare say, that I will thread down that beaten path of poverty and need, learn from it, and share the pain with empathetic wisdom so that my clients will benefit. I dare not be too rich, for I know the seduction of fast accumulated wealth. I dare to be a simple guy, with simple needs and wants. I dare to be contented with the idea of riding a train ride for the rest of my life, if need be. I dare to tell my clients, that like any normal mortal, I cannot be the know all when it comes to financial matters. Qualified and informed, I may be, but I am fallible to not knowing many things.

How did I lose my drive?

Beats me. But I do know that I just cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel standing where I am now. I took my job too personally. When clients lapse their payments, I beat myself at my inability to measure his ability to afford a plan. I trusted his willingness too much. I became emotional rather than rational. In my pursuit to close cases, I began looking down on people’s manner of managing their finances. I started categorizing people into sets of ignorance and cash cows. I believed too much into the hype that financial consultants can solve all financial problems with the whiff of a gimmick sales concept driven to silence a prospect into purchasing the fix-all financial product. As I struggled to come to terms with sales projections and moral obligations, I became the subject of innuendos of under achievement. A focal point of example as a potential gone wrong. I was the poster boy for what could have been. Sometimes seen as an anti establishment individual bent on rebelling against a system of proven success.

Why?

I really have no qualms about living life in such a way, that I sweep the floors of a shopping complex or the drains. If bread and butter were to be issues of contention, who gives a shit, as to how the dough came about in the first place.

For years, people ask what I want with my life. Plenty of course. But I am a believer that all things come in due time. Why no car, they ask? In due time. Why no honeymoon, they ask? In due time. Why no house, they ask? In due time. Why not successful? In due time. Let me ask them, “When will you be held accountable for the pride, bits of arrogance and sheer disregard for humility?”. Don’t answer. I’ll tell you. In due time.

The simple fact is this. Between financial consultants, you, the prospect or client, are sometimes  discussed upon as cattle. You are either a fat cattle, ready to be slaughtered, or a skinny one just awaiting time. Not all consultants look at you that way. But most. I’ve digressed.

Anyway, I’ve been disillusioned. I’m quitting. Resigning. Stepping away from this road to perdition. Rework my self. Rework on my own financial and life planning. Four years of mediocrity is unacceptable. Surviving on faith, goodwill spirit and loyalty has made me a well rounded individual, but I gave up on my rights to be fulfilled.

I know when I should throw in the towel. Though it’s never in my nature to throw in the gauntlet on my own neck. But this time around I need to. While I still have some sense of thought.

I want to start dreaming again. Dream those realistic and achievable personal dreams I had. I can have. I’m sick of being made to feel that I am not good enough within, because the yardstick of comparison is objectified. I’m tired of having a possibility thinking, grounded on narcissistic measures of self worth. I’m morally obligated to believe that there exists a richer life outside the scopes by which I am being exposed to.

This is my opportunity for the “dip”.

This is my opportunity to just wave my white flag and say,“Enough.”

Hijazi…

• despite the effect of being the underdog minority with a lot of stigmas attached to it has on you, it has worked to your advantage in the sense that you’ve always felt the need to prove yourself, as opposed to embrace the negative aspects of it. which is a good thing. and in spite of the passion, which could have very well manifested into obsession, agression and arrogance, you’ve managed to inspire
• whenever i have to force myself to do something i’ll think of what you’d say. you’re like the voice of encouragement

- Nhazean | Primary School Friend | 2006

This is my idea of Passion I had in 2006,

What is passion?

That innate desire to get out of bed in the morning…to dress well…to arrive early at work…to greet fellow colleagues…to smile in the face of clients…to achieve satisfactory deals…to conclude the day with finished work day assignments…to meet up with your soulmate for dinner…to enjoy a brisk walk through the city…head home in each other’s arms…being serenaded to sleep…and dream that I will wake up going through that whole day in sequential order all over again….

Finito.

Blowing Your Bubbles

Knowing Your Self Worth

I learned something. Or rather realized something. Intimidation or motivation via innuendos or sarcasms is a cowardly way of putting a point across. I don’t know why and how it dawned on me, but it did. It’s like taking peanuts thrown at you, and then throwing it back behind a wall. Funny? Yes.

The indispensable linchpin in any dynamics knows his worth. He is not the guy who sells coffee in a coffee shop. He is not the guy who shouts the orders for the coffee maker. He is not the one who gives the loose change. He is not the one who wipes the table. He is not the one who waits around. He is not the one counting the day’s taking at night.

The indispensable linchpin in the coffee shop, can do all the jobs mentioned above, with varying degrees of success and abilities. But the reason why, he is an indispensable linchpin, is because he, is the one with the floor plan for the expansion of that coffee shop into becoming a Starbucks joint. Or at least, he is trying to draw the floor plan.

The thing about a linchpin is that he is not self sympathetic, with the need to be approved or justified, according to the whims and whines of demands and complaints. If Leonardo Da Vinci had done so in response to the witch hunt, exclusions and criticisms of the Church back then, we will not recognize his brilliance today.

The Bubbles

You see, what I believe is that sometimes people, live in their own self inflated bubbles and they go around trying to teach people how to do so likewise. And they are happy, when people all around them are living in big bubbles like them. But somehow, they will spot one small bubble with you inside. All comfortable and cozy. But they are not happy, because everyone else are in big bubbles. So they tell, the little you, that you must be miserable and suffering, choked and all suffocating, and they criticize the way you blew your bubble. They will try to tell you, that being small in a world of big bubbles is rather depressing. They will tell you all sorts of things, until they can no longer stand. Then, they will do what people always do to small bubbles. They poke you so that you’ll burst.

Big bubbles are aplenty these days. They love growing bigger. Some grow slowly, whilst some grow faster. It’s not exactly rocket science. If you were in that small bubble, even you know that it’s not exactly nuclear science. All you need is to blow more air inside. Even children knows that. But these big bubbles sometimes forget where they came from. They learned how to grow bigger, that they lost out on a very important lesson. Not everyone knows how to make themselves comfortable in a small bubble.

If you are a small bubble, take heart. Someone kind enough,intelligent enough, or considerate enough, will blow into you, gentle air, and you will grow into a big bubble eventually.  Don’t worry. And God is so fair, that even the big bubbles burst. On their own sometimes.

Why Lady Gaga Would Make A Great Financial Planner

Why The Gaga?

I realize that all clients believe that they have a one of a kind financial product / policy. You can see it in their eyes, when you ask them if they have a financial portfolio. Without a moment of hesitation, they will be armed to the teeth with a list of products they have, or have at least heard of. In best case scenarios, they will cite their financial planner’s name and ask you if you know that particular planner. Usually, when I am confronted with such hallucinations, I’ll kindly sidestep the question by saying that I might know the person if I saw him / her. Anyway, the point is, generally, clients or people in general will want to believe that they have in possession a unique, customized and specialized product. Unfortunately, sometimes, such expectations fall short.

Lady Gaga Concerts

I’ve never been to a Lady Gaga concert. But I do know what my level of expectations are should I ever fork out a single cent of my money. I will expect a full blown, exaggerated, major theatrics, elaborate stage scales and of course an out of this world performance by Gaga herself. A virtuoso display. Something that will blow my mind off. I want to feel that the pricey ticket I paid for was peanuts compared to the spectacle of value presented to me. In crude terms and pardon my language, I want to be “mind f**ked”. Because that is the impression I get from Lady Gaga. In other words, Lady Gaga’s performances are so out of this world, that I personally wanna interpret it in my own manner of interpretations.

A Lady Gaga Performance

People perhaps forget just how talented and competent artiste / performer Lady Gaga is. She’s rather consummate. Her elaborate scheme of work enhances the myth and branding surrounding her. Her eccentric manners somehow seems to enhance that perfectionist streak within her.

That’s how your financial planner should be. A competent, confident, talented and totally committed towards a styled branding kinda individual. A maverick. Not the run off the mill, answer your questions in general and always knowing kinda people. A planner that displays a certain amount of eccentric behavior is good, as it shows you a tinge of compulsive disorder in an area that he / she is passionate about. A planner that cares about your money, as if he / she is investing his / her own money.

A Lady Gaga styled financial planner is also someone who tediously designs and prepares for a “mind blowing” planning session that will enthrall and captivate you. Someone who will leave you wanting more. Someone who will then leave you at the edge for more advise and consultations.

On A Gaga Note

Lady Gaga specializes in one thing. Defining trends. Whatever her eccentric styles may be, you cannot deny that she’s recognizable and her performances captivate and engage you. You will want a financial consultant who is like that. A trend definer. Not someone who will load the bulk of reminders of responsibilities on your shoulders, because you know it yourself. What you want, is a different perspective of looking at it. A fresh look at things. That will make your “financial planning performance” memorable. Don’t you agree?

At the end of the day, even a boring 60 year old wants to go gugu gaga over a financial consultant like Lady Gaga.

The Art Of Going Mindless

I just watched a mindless show, and yes I would have loved to say Anugerah Skrin. Unfortunately it’s Cougar Town. Free TV this year has been good. Ever since the cable was terminated, there has been reprieve. But not if it’s constant reruns on Suria. Talking about mindless, I was just wondering if I can come up with a list of mindless things I could do, or anyone without a mind will probably do. So let’s try,

• Watch Anugerah Skrin
• Convince Chee Soon Juan that he makes a great PAP leader
• Break into bus depot, and scrawl graffiti on an SBS bus
• Donate your upcoming GST Credits to SPCA
• Buy a one million insurance policy
• Resign from your current stable employment
• Call your best friend and tell him/her that you need a $10K loan
• Sit under your void deck with only a towel on
• Take an MC and email your MC to your boss, with your resignation letter
• Go to Speaker’s Corner and talk about the political scene
• Sign up for a World Cup package midway through the tournament
• Buy furnitures from Courts Superstore on a 48 month installment plan
• Sell your 4 room flat
• Eat your nasi lemak with cili padi
• Buy X Box, PS3 and Wii and give it away to your neighbours
• Borrow $1K from a licensed moneylender
• Volunteer for admission at IMH
• Take a video clip of an old auntie/uncle slapping you in a lift
• Talk loudly on your mobile in front of the security at the library
• Book a room at Fullerton for the night using your partner’s credit card
• Drive, without a valid licence
• Purchase a car with $0 down payment
• etc

People do not normally think of doing all these things. It’s too crazy. But in an alternate reality, where you are not needed to be accountable or be judged, you would do some of the things listed here. That’s normal.

Just because we cannot do things, does not mean it cannot be done.

Going mindless is not rocket science. You can do it too.

Alternate Choices

I love watching good television series. And one of my favorite, Fringe, will be premiering its second season soon. Seeing the trailers last night made me tingle with excitement. The premise of alternate universes, time travel and strange occurences is enticing. As I watched, a question popped up in my head. How will my alternate universe look like?

Taking aside those self help stuffs, about choices and consequences, what if we asked ourselves the question,”What about those choices I did not make?”

Of course we know that we are where we are now because of the conscious decisions that we made. And we also would have realized that prior to that, there were a number of alternate choices made available to us. We just didn’t make them. So does that make those alternate choices wrong?

Let me paint a simple analogy. When we were a bit younger and we sat for those tedious exams, there were always a section of multiple choice questions. It’ll be a question with usually four answers, seemingly similar to each other. We are of course, required to select one right answer. When we do, what does it mean for the other three answers? Are they wrong? Of course not. They are wrong only for that particular question, but in another set of questions, those three might be the right ones. In another alternate reality, the one you have chosen may be wrong.

Normality requires that we choose the right answer almost everytime. Such that we lose the spirit of choosing alternate choices for the sake of adventure. Sometimes, those alternate choices may be the best things in life we’ve yet to experience.

The next time you are given choices, take the time to chart out the possible alternate universe that may revolve around the consequence of that choice. It’ll just be a fun thing to do, cause at the end of it all, am sure you’ll still select the safest choice.

How To Be An Influential Underachiever

Most people associate achievements with influence. Meaning that if you are a teacher, the higher you rise up in ranks, the more influential you are perceived to be. It may also mean that you will be inaccessible to the students and occassionally hated by your peers and subordinates. Just maybe.

In the sales world, such thoughts might also resonate. The highly successful and over achieving financial consultant, might be deemed as the shaker and mover of the industry. It may also mean that he is an immaculate salesperson who sells financial products very well. But I’m just saying.

My point is, what about the underachiever? Can you, a 9 to 5 office personnel, a cleaner, a security guard, a sales assistant, look at yourself in the mirror and seriously consider yourself an influential figure? A catalyst towards a great movement? A shaper of destiny? A leader who influences his flock?

Why not?

We have been educated, to say the least, that influence comes with a degree of success and wealth. We think that the person standing on the stage, giving a speech on how to be successful, is influential, because he is successful. We might also think that I am trying to influence you by talking crap.

Frankly, success enhances influence. But it need not be the basis for influence.

If I can cajole you to write a book, would you think it will serve a purpose? What if your ideas and your thoughts were penned on an e-zine article,blog post,comments or published books? What if it changed the lives of educators,lawyers,parents,children,failures and others like yourself? What if,like Leonardo Da Vinci,who scribbled seemingly nonsense,and is now heralded as an influential genius,is actually you?

The direct relation between success and influence may still be debated. But for the normal, simple blokes like me, I’ll stick to writing this kinda posts for a while.

The Next Bad Idea Please

Investments are price sensitive. And price are news sensitive. And news are circumstance sensitive. And circumstance are time sensitive. So in a nutshell, investments are time sensitive. If the CEO of a reputable company is fired, the shareholders will definitely affect the holdings, which will then affect the stock indexes, which will then affect investors like yourself. So, we are connected to events beyond our control.

I still remember an advertisement I saw on TV. It said that when a butterfly flaps its wings somewhere else, another place far away will be hit by a tornado. It may be quite exaggerated. But who would bother to scientifically prove it. But the notion of small events resulting in bigger circumstances resonate with me. I like the idea of small things impacting in a big way.

What Is Your Small Idea

We have been besieged with the concept of faster and better ideas, producing results that, we almost always forget the process of getting there. Most people that I know of freezes two times over when I ask if they have any ideas. It may be a simple thing such as getting food, or movie or clothes. You get the point. Most of us have been trained to not think. We have been taught that the spoken words must be ringing with the best ideas. Ideas that are ridiculous and simplistic in nature will almost always get that, “Yah…we know that. Is that all you can come up with?” And so we froze whenever another idea-less moron asks us for ideas. We become too fearful of dishing out ideas, since its not big enough. Not influential enough. Not having enough impact.

Do you realize that whenever we strained our heads to come up with the near perfect single good idea, a thousand more not so developed ideas get washed away in our mental trash bins? Ideas that may be half baked, half developed and definitely bursting with potential. We sieve through mercilessly through our God inspired ideas, to find that one idea, that will meet and conform to someone finally saying, “Yups, that’s a good idea. We’ll use that.” You cannot survive on one idea.

Learning To Think

Bad ideas are brilliant ideas. It seems bad only because it’s practicality is not time permitted. Just because you have a Victoria Secret lingerie set on you, whilst attending graduation ceremony, does not mean that the set is useless. It just means, that it is not appropriate for that setting. What if your bad idea, is actually a revolutionary idea that will change the face of the planet come 2050.

We should start appreciating bad ideas. We should embrace people who come up with the most atrocious ideas. The kinda ideas that will make a cat squirm. Ideas such as collecting a dollar coin from one million people, so that I can be a millionaire.( I am copyrighting this) Ideas that are silly and idiotic. Because bad ideas have room for improvements.

Embracing Bad Ideas

People who constantly come up with great ideas,(like me), have one thing in common. They safeguard their bad ideas like a mistress. They will constantly revisit their bad ideas with a profound sense of curiosity. They want to believe that they can have the next best idea. You see, the idea behind the genius of idea making, is that you need to keep track of your bad ideas. Write it down. Record it down. Video it down. Blog it down. Whatever the method is, its crucial that we understand the engineering behind ideas. Like a factory, an excellent idea is usually a filtered version of a collective fusion of bad ideas, blended into the power of reasoning. If you stop the churning of bad ideas, you will definitely shut down the output for good ones.

Somewhere in the world, someone will have a bad idea to share with you. Take that idea, because it’s like the flap of the butterflies. Someday that flap will just create the tornado of influence for you. If you know what I mean…

What Does A Serial Incompetent Product Pushing Financial Planner Look Like?

The bad news is, you will never know for sure. They probably come in all shapes and sizes. They probably even drive their BMWs and Mercedes into your car porch. Sometimes they may even let you sign your application forms with their gold plated Mont Blanc fountain pens. And sometimes, just sometimes, they may even tell you that they are the number one ranking planner in their company.

Okay, maybe I am exaggerating it a bit too far.

The truth is, you can never really know for sure. Serial Incompetent Product Pushing Financial Planners (SIPPFP) are extremely good at what they are doing. That is, pushing a product into your lap of purchases. They will probably draw up some schematic concepts, pitch you a few persuasive lines and then give you that overpowering ‘silent’treatment. They have been taught repeatedly, to at least listen you you, pitch a little and then shut up. If you have an objection, they will gladly turn it back on you, then  give you the ‘silent’ treatment again. Then when you are all clueless by the amount of info overload, they will gladly give you the Mont Blanc pen.

Then again, this may be an extreme example.

What you should know however is the fact that SIPPFP are usually competent in selling, or in their words, advising you , on purchasing a certain line of product. If, you happen to have them outlining to you the virtues and benefits of  a certain, solve it all financial product, your buyers beware antennae should be up. Imagine patients needing a consultation, and all the doctor does is prescribe paracetamol  to every incoming patient. It is insane.

Why Are They Allowed A Free Roam In The Market

Most of the time SIPPFP thrive on ignorance. A market that chooses to be ignorant is a perfect pitching ground for these selected band of planners. Of course they are able to sell a certain product line for all sorts of issues. Firstly, because you may not understand the real financial issues that you have. Secondly, they have had practice pitching the same product benefits, such that it seems like the most natural thing to ever have. Though certain financial products are practically designed to be flexible in meeting different financial needs, it certainly cannot be the only advise you should get as a consumer.

What Then Should You Do

It is perfectly all right for you to ask of references and case studies, from the financial consultant that you are engaged with. It will be excellent if these are his/her recent clients. Just mention that you will like to view the options available, with the confidentiality clause applied of course. If your financial consultant is hesitant or unable to do so, then there is cause for concern.

It is also imperative that you know the credentials and certifications that the financial consultant is in possession of. This is vital, as you are able to gauge the level of competency the financial consultant is at. Sometimes the only logical reason why a product is repeatedly pushed to you, is because that is the only product he is qualified and certified to sell.

Lastly, do understand the importance of recognizing your own need for the product. If the financial consultant claims that the product has been purchased by 99% of his clientele base, it just indicates clearly that his clients’ financial issues are generally similar. But you are smart enough to realize that this cannot be the case, as everyone has a unique set of issues, values and affordability. If you have the same product as 200 other people, it just means that you have purchased a generic product, without the proper personalized solution.

Shove It Back

So the next time, you sit down with a financial consultant, realize that the ball is in your court. It is perfectly normal for you to demand a certain level of personalization. What you should and can do the next time you meet a SIPPFP, it is encouraged that you understand the basis of his/her recommended product. If you are not satisfied with the rationale or explananation, it is just fine to shove the product back into the SIPPFP’s lap.

What I Learned From Superheroes

Financial planners are essentially super heroes. At least in my mind that is. Having read a paragraph of Seth Godin’s Linchpin, I have to totally agree on the important need to bring a certain value to the table. Unique,indispensable and totally valuable.

A superhero that claims that he can fly,has x-ray vision and can travel at the speed of light, is just enhancing the reputations of the Green Lantern, Superman and The Flash. The original bunch. What can and should the superhero have to be distinct?

Financial planners are a lot like the 2nd grade superheroes. Their superhero abilities are perhaps defined by the ability to double your investments,plan for your retirement funds,insure you with a quarter of a million and making sure your creditors do not chase you. The same set of abilities,every other financial superheroes have at their disposal. And these group are the ones that are touting themselves as the next Justice League?

It is important to understand where I am going with this. I figure that I should strive to be Batman. The logic of not having any superpowers,define me as someone who has to work harder and smarter to really bring a definite value to any critical situations that may arise.

Yes, it may be dark,broodish and totally gothic unlike the flashy red and yellow emblem of the generic superhero. But,I prefer remaining a cult figure with my fans. And, yes I know the superheroes weaknesses too. Just in case.

We Are All In A Way Responsible

Opening Up Our Wounds

In a space of 48 hours, my Facebook wall has been decorated with posts of people joining the tribe, of condemning the you-know-who-beat-a-girl-in-a-lift. It makes for interesting read, when I visited the page and found scores of dynamic exchanges between supporters and critics. A wild search on Google will almost land you on captured screens of blog entries, pictures and what ever not. Interestingly, it does make media and social network work overdrive.

Whatever the matter is, I have a personal stance on this. One which is open to debate. The parody of such plight, is an expected consequence of years of mismanagement by our community’s big wigs. As much as this may be stretching the truth a bit too far, I definitely contribute this episode to the roots that is holding our community together. A report featured on Berita Harian offered little to suggest that there could perhaps be a remedy to this calamity. I mean, let’s face it. It’s not just a juvenile problem. It’s a morally motivated social kahunnah.

It is in this instances when I really wish, Mr Presiden and Mufti, sitting in the high echelons of MUIS can appear on the screens of our set tops and give at least a consoling summary, a verdict or conclusion. Or are we expecting Mr Lee to come up and arrange a committee or framework to tackle the problem. I think it’s almost high noon and high time that the “powers that be” in our community offer some flimsy framework in tackling this breeding social problems. And when I say flimsy, I am not well meaning it to be efforts at doing research and trying to understand deeply, before a solution can be proposed. The layers of bureaucracy in handling initiatives can be hindering at times. What we, as a community need is the education behind dealing with such matters. We need methods of intervention. We need objectives that illustrates the KPIs of progress and how to achieve them. We need to educate parents that there is nothing unique, if your son starts dressing as a girl or vice versa. We need to inform parents that there is no such thing as a parent-friend understanding synergy. A parent is a parent, tasked with identifying the problems at home before it escalates into social embarrassments. We need to share with parents, that when you plant a seed, the responsibility of germinating it with the nutrients of value and religion does not lie with society’s influence. It starts at home.

The media has to stop featuring highlights and making it look like a fashion statement. A rodent infestation has to be featured as a rodent infestation and not as a circus of parading hamsters. We do not attempt to understand something, by virtue of mere exposure. To hell with socio dynamics and theories which the West coined up to facilitate understanding of gays,lesbians and whatsoever other anomalies. Understanding of its existence, is crucial. But understanding to facilitate acceptance is so wrong.

That is why, I’ve always maintained the need for a more synergistic efforts between asatizahs and the community in dealing with such issues. Even if it comes down to the mundane but much needed effort of coming down from the pedestal of ranks and titles, to just get in touch with the community. Issue out a fatwa banning such practices (of gender imitations) or something. Do something at least from a religious point of view. Why are we wasting money on providing better chair for the Mufti, if all he and his council, can afford to do periodically is issue out decrees dealing with organ transplants? Or mundane and trivial things that may not even decide the fate of the community in the Hereafter. Such disservice to the ummah?

Over the course of time, we will realize that our community will be more academically sound and socially matured. But at what expense? At the expense of moral, values and religious damage being done. The slapping episode did not feature anything academically intelligent or social maturity. It showcased instead, the failure of our community’s stance at bringing progression into the core values of upbringing a young adult.

This generation and the next’s future developments could very well hinge on the response that we give to episodes such as this. Turning a blind eye, feigning ignorance will pave the way for irresponsible acceptance. Proactive approaches and dynamic religious framework, will be an unpopular and arduous choice. But it will, at least create a dent in demolishing such ill.

We do not need to criticize the sinner or the sin. That’s God’s judgement. But God will definitely judge the community he was in, for failing to remind. We are all in a way responsible.

Kids These Days

You Be The Judge

I happened to chance upon a Facebook status of a friend, who attended a graduation ceremony of her brother at an ITE (Institute of Technical Education). Specifically, the ITE in mention was the one I attended way back then, ITE Dover. I was trying to figure out and scrambled my memory, if I had ever attended such a ceremony at the end of my graduation. The answer I got from my 180GB worth of storage memory, was an absolute no. I recall with total clarity that I had collected my transcripts and certificate via the administration staff at the office. How lame, my graduation had turned out. Kids these days seem to lap it up.

Mind Your Language

At dinner time, just a few hours ago, I watched in glee as the Prime Minister sat beside a stoic looking Minister for Education, in an arranged press conference. For a premier to call on a press conference to address out an issue, is kinda rare. Rare, in the sense that, it’s reserved only if a mistake had been made. Well, in a subtle hint of admission, the Minister for Education did mention that he regretted having the context of a made comment be misinterpreted. Yups, it got so misinterpreted, that 2000 people actually gathered on a Monday morning to sign a petition. The issue in question was about the “proposed” lowering of scoring emphasis to the Mother Tongue language. I wish not to be technical here, but in any way, I would have disagreed with the motion too. In an age, where cultures and languages are fast disappearing into the pages of the dodo bird, the least they (the Ministry of Education) can afford to do is to just place some dignity on making sure, students will still bother to study for their Mother Tongue language. By which the question that begs an answer too, is whether the students even study such a subject in the first place? Kids these days, lap it up too easily.

That Video

And then, in what could be the highlight for my day, I watched a posted video of a teen slapping happy a girl in a sort of “girlish”confrontation. The act itself may be repulsive, but what irked me the most was the small fact that, these fame hungry idiots were Malay kids. Malay kids. Did I spell that right?

Maybe this could be the reason as to why the Ministry for Education proposed a move to lower the significance of marking for the Mother Tongue language. Especially when profound Mother Tongue profanities are lashed out at the rate of an American gunshot on an Iraqi. If the system, is supposedly churning out students who are more able to hurl “vaginal” expletives at people, then describing a still picture during the oral exams, then definitely they have a cause for concern.

And just to add salt, pepper and vinegar to my community’s wound, this assailant is also a proud exclaimer of the gay preferences. Of course, I have no prejudices towards the preferences in general, but a 15 year old being proud of it? There is some serious, permanent head damage, there. In such scenarios I usually recommend downing a bottle of bleach.

Don’t you think kids these days, are lapping it up too much?

At the end of it all, I think kids these days should just be put through, that simple thing called childhood. I think the urge of the community and society at large to always go out of their way to understand the kids, has been in retrospect, a step backward. Kids, ought not to be understood. They need to be educated. With all semblances of values, morals, religion and whatsoever not. As naive, as I am to mention this, but I really cannot see a Nepalese or Congo kid living in mountains and deserts, respectively, bashing up people for no conclusive reasons. And these are so called, “behind the developments” associated kinda countries, whose annual GDP is equivalent to our country’s weekly. The conundrum is in identifying and isolating problems. Eliminate social irritations like these kids via any Ip Man methodologies, possible. Don’t understand them. Just give them, what we call, “a lesson in life”.

Experiential Exasperation

Where Are You?

If you are reading this by the comforts of your home, seated in front of a turning fan, with a mug of hot cocoa in tow and music playing in the background, you are definitely categorized as belonging within the 98% of people who lead a normal life.

If however you are reading this post, seated on a black stallion galloping through the lush, dense and green forest found in New Zealand, whilst hearing the cheerful chirps of the birds and the occasional roars of the waterfalls, you are definitely in that unique 2% category of people who lead an extraordinary life.

So which are you?

The definitive guide in determining your quality of experiential living probably lies in that small word called “experience”. For most of us, the mundane act of reading a blog post, is as habitual as lifting up the toilet seats for ladies. For some of us, reading a blog post, can be as nerve wrecking as trying to figure out that killer pick up line, to be used in a crowded bar. We have all, for the most part of our education been taught, that experience is what, has happened to us. But what if we began treating experience as what is really happening within us?

The Geography Teacher

When I was in secondary school, my Geography teacher used to try and motivate us, by being that irritating, cynical and skeptical man who would spout out statements such as, “You should be in a great school such as…blah…blah…because they will so much welcome your presence.” Of course, we students were smart enough to know that he laced those words with sharp rhetoric and sarcasm that it would have made any mothers tear with blood. We were also wise enough at that point of time, to not have taken his words seriously, because we all thought that he was just acting senile. The point is this. That Geography teacher is no longer a character playing in our stage of life. In my story at least, he was just cameo. The experience with him, was just that. Cause within me, he was not a figure of importance. Imagine how my perspectives would have been mutilated, if I had treated him as an external experience meaning that he was someone who “happened to my life”. It would have been a totally different story I reckon.

In the context of our life, we will definitely meet this “Geography Teacher” of mine in different forms and fashions. He could be your spouse, your manager, your acquaintance, your colleague and perhaps even a family member. They are the sort who will want to imprint their philosophies, ideals and visions, as an experience in your life. The question is, how far are we willing to allow such imprints to be embedded in our minds, to be accepted as a norm, and treated then as THE way of life we want to lead?

Being In The Red

My Redbacks team has been discussing fervently on the feasibility of joining a social league.As I gave my inputs,and then reflecting on the various responses,I just had to sigh with a sense of resignation.I forgot that I’m playing with a Malay outfit,that has the inclination that enjoyment is just a byproduct of passion.I had raised the issues of financial appeal being a crucial element in joining the league.I mean,a game in a social league,entails $100.Spread that over say,approximately 5 months/20 weeks max,it totals to around $2000.The unique thing about Redbacks is the policy of subsidizing fee amounts for those players bracketed in the category of non salaried.Meaning that they are either students,or in betweens,like my bro Aki.Maybe it’s just me.But I’ve been trying to rationalize why players need to be subsidize?If we were to go on trips,such as the one in Mersing,where players can afford $50 for a one off trip,is that not amounting to $10,spread over 5 weeks?Hmmmm.Just my financial planning getting the better of me.Wahahaha.

Setting Sail By Anchoring

I am in the midst of completing a book on salesmanship,which I bought earlier in the week.There was this particular chapter called “Anchoring”.Students of psychology and neuro linguistic programming will identify with me on this.What was interesting about this topic and my relation with this entry is this simple notion.

“Where you anchored,will determine where you sail…”-My quotes of brilliance.

Reading Kai’s recent entry,affirms my suspicion.Well,yes,I relate to what he wrote because it reflected aptly also what I felt initially.That fear.That sense of helplessness of perhaps not being in control of the impending situation.This in an effort to control the locus of influence,we,our neuro programming,anchored itself on the last recorded memory of the circumstance.Well,of course in both our cases,the plight of being sidelined.Hahahah.But still,this is just an extended personal reflection.I still believe that my logical reasoning of the team’s structural inability applies,no matter.

Why anchoring?Simple.

2B Or Not2B

A funny thought came to mind.What if I can classify generically,people into categories.

• Will Be
• Cannot Be
• May Be

Music Of My Life

tell me how I’m supposed to breathe with no air? – usher and jordin sparks

somehow,and i don’t know how…music is just my air.the very elemental essence in which i draw inspiration from.the earlier entries about anchors just reminded me about yet another anchor.an anchor that is often overlooked but we fail to recognize its value.its intrinsic value that is.music.

What Do You Want?

The family just bought itself a 32 inch flat screened television set.Nothing fancy.Just an unknown brand,called Sirius,from a local company.I saw it on sale for 100 pieces at AMK Hub and promptly relayed the info to my sis,who headed down the next day with the family to purchase it.Just prior to that,we had done a bit of survey at Mustafa Center to get a ‘feel’ of what will make a great addition to the furniture.

Before anyone jump on that conclusion that,it’s just another atypical Malayish,Hari Raya purchase,it will be worthy to highlight that my sis bought it,with the rest chipping in a bit,with the money she earned over the past month selling potato chips.Hahaha.I have to say that I admire the tenacity at which she worked the hours to gather that sum of money,and I felt that it was just due reward on her part,to purchase a big ticket item.Do we need the television set?Obviously not.We have one 24 inch working one.But do we want a flat screened one?Yes,we did.

Yes,I’m Gay

Only a man on the brink of fading stardom will take the creative initiative of claiming to the world,and admitting amidst the rumors,that,”Yes Mom!I’m Gay!”Clay Aiken disappoints me.Not because he is gay.But because he is a selfish gay who apparently has no idea what that statement had just entailed.Well,just months back,he claimed fatherhood to a born child,with his girlfriend.Months later,now,he claims he is gay.What he is doing is actually guaranteeing that his child will grow up one day,surfs the internet on celebrities’ wild admissions,and find his dad’s name,with a picture of him being cuddled when he was an infant,with the bold headlines,”Yes.I’m gay!”Well,Clay…who cares.The fact is,we know you are ever since you greeted our homes on American Idol. We knew you had that atypical look and persona to live out that genre of sexuality.In fact we are gay about you being gay.Just spare your child the blushes and the therapy sessions he has to endure later.

Romeo,Wherefore Art Thou?

An Angel Awaiting

Oh well.This is an entry long awaiting. Was surfing You Tube. Saw this one hell of a video I used to bawl my eyes out for. It was Des’ree’s song,”Kissing You” off the soundtrack of Romeo and Juliet.I love the movie.Watched it like 7 times on screen.3 times by myself.I still curse the day when my Literature teacher announced that the literary text for my O levels was Macbeth. Who the hell reads Macbeth? I am still so sure till this very day that if the literary text that time was Romeo and Juliet.I would have top the subject,nationwide.

The universal quotient,that is love,never fails to intrigue me.As I get older,as I mature,I will like to believe that I’ve understood the various facets of love.What creates it?What defines it?What destroys it?What nurtures it?But guess what?The answer eludes me.I’ll be chastised for saying this,but all that I,personally am sure at,is that the answer to a future lies in the lessons of the past.It’s a whole shenanigan of bull I know,but what I am trying to conclude from my statement is that,to improve the quality of our future love live/relationships,it is vital for one to understand where he or she stands before this,on the ideals of love.

Romeo and Juliet defines a fantasy love setting for me.I loved the whole notion that a love so strong still cannot bind you to a life of being together.Well,of course in today’s context,Romeo and Juliet’s escapades in wanting to meet each other may seem foolish.(Because we have that thing call view cams on our desktops).But back then,this was the penultimate idea of love.Struggle and sacrifices.But this rather primitive and primal context of having to struggle and sacrifice,should still apply…I personally believe.

These days I believe,it is so easy to give up.It is easier to pat oneself on the back and say that there are a whole host of options awaiting out there.A bit of complication and rejection these days,will pave the way for the nearest exit door.So what you have,is the proverbial setting of a whole list long of dates,girlfriends,boyfriends and whatever there is that makes a social community.I know cause I’ve been through it.It’s been so long now since I heard,from anyone,in my circle of contacts,hanging on a waiting love.Hahaha.A story where the guy probably has to wait ages for the love of that special woman.

Syawal…wal…wal…walauweh!

Selamat Hari Raya

In slightly less than two months,Americans will be heading down their way to polling booths to place their votes for their next American president.Will it be the charismatic Obama with his aide Biden?Or will it be McCain and his bumbling aide,Palin?No matter what the outcome of the polls will be,one thing is for sure,you and I will be part of it.

This economic crisis that is seemingly besieging the world.It seems to cloud an issue.A misty haze seems to settle on our awareness,on something rather important.As throngs of my community go about their never ending visitations in this month of Syawal,I just wonder…”Are they aware?”

As the MRT train pulls into stations,my eyes never fail to catch the fleeting smiles of families decked in the vibrant colors of their kurungs.It’s joyous.It’s pretty.It’s surreal.And when I blink my eyes again to capture that picturesque moment,I see children running around,tears and blood streaming down their cheeks,escaping the bomb shells scattering in the vicinity,scrambling for the safety of sheltering rubbles.I blink my eyes again,and my consciousness was brought back to sunny Singapore,from the war torn lands of Palestine.

Rock My Way

Seriously,who bothers if you had a fairly good week.I do.Especially if it’s my week.The surest conclusion I’ve derived from the whole of last week is this.If football is back in my life,everything else will fall into place.They say,normality creeps in.My whole of last week had the word “footie” plastered all over.

Consider this:

1.I bought a pair of NIKE Tiempos,(eventhough I have a pair of Adidas Telstar sitting at home.)My rationale for getting a new pair is simple.I needed it.(aka,I wanted it).The sickening thing is that I realize now that I could have gotten it at at even better bargain over at Peninsula Plaza.Well,I’m not crying over it.I’m getting NIKE Super Ligeira next month.At $110 per pair,it’s the bargain of the century.

2.Received a call from a team asking for my availability to play with the team in the ESPZEN league.Fact is I don’t even care about the call.I was just pleasantly surprised that I received the call.Because my theory was proven right.I had placed my “credentials” on the site,in that faint hope that someone might take notice.Well,someone did,apparently.Goes to show that humanistic nature of people believing in that thing called,reputation.Heck,they do not know I’ve got a creaked right knee.

3.Resumed my weekly kickabout with Stamford over at Marina.What a joy to be just caressing the ball with old mates,and then capping off the night with a cup of hot tea.Shiok to the max.Best things in life come in small packages.The kickabout helped in preparing me for the then,upcoming Sunday game.

4.Climaxing the week,with a well deserving win,with my Redbacks team.The joy was intensified with the small fact that yours truly,opened his scoring account.The small pleasant surprise was on being given the role of an attacking midfielder in a 5 midfield outfit lineup.It feels good to have come out of the game unscathed.In a team abundant with a flourish of attacking minded players,it did not really mattered actually,how the midfielders lined up.In my perspective,each and every of the players on that Sunday,had the fluidity in movement.New inclusions in the team were a welcoming add ons.They gave a different dimension to the array of options.I was just pleased and happy that people like Nordin has made a committed comeback.It’s things like these that makes sessions appealing.I believe a comment made by Ayyub when his brother opened his scoring account,summed up the evening.”Another 29 to go!”in reference to his brother’s goals of 30 goals this season.It highlighted  a sense of optimism and goodwill.

Fear Of A Samurai

“The realization of certain death should be renewed every morning.Each morning,you must prepare yourself for every kind of death with composure of mind.Imagine yourself broken by bows,guns,spears,swords,carried off by floods,leaping into huge fire,struck by lightning,torn apart by earthquake,plunging from a cliff,as a disease ridden corpse.”

- Tsunetomo Yamamoto ,”Hagakure”

Morbid?Certainly not.I was reading up on my usual stuffs on salesmanship and came across this very interesting chapter that brought out a renewed vigor.”Samurai Selling” was the chapter.The chapter started interestingly with that short anecdote of that irrationality called fear,gripping the minds of salesman like me.Fear that immobilizes us into that frame of uselessness and hopelessness.

Hari Raya Leftovers

Well not exactly leftovers.Pictures that I took during this festive season which never seems to end.Just thought it will be a good addition in this year’s entry.Heh.

Playing The Devil’s Advocate

Extended brothers

Who’s that good looking guy in black?

Spot the Guy

Who’s the cutest?

Families

I Killed Ultraman

I had an eventful day.I could have chosen to type my thoughts out about how a Malay taxi driver and myself commented about how mosques nowadays look like churches from the back,and community centers from the side,views.It was a conversation driven out of my conversational context as my taxi made its way into the parking lot of Asyafaah mosque.

Or perhaps,I can type my ramblings,about the current economic situation facing the Malay Muslim community,as discussed between myself and a community serving official.About how Malay Muslims are in general…

1.Love being spoon fed

2.Loathes changes

3.Lacking initiative to be proactive

….

10010.Loser’s Limb Mentality

Or I can type about how a realization on how Mendaki funds may be suggested to perhaps deduct say $3 bucks monthly from a working group of people.There are 600,000 Malay Muslims in Singapore.Let’s pessimistically put it that only 200,000 are active workers.Let’s pessimistically put it that only 100,000 out of this 200,000 contribute monthly to the fund.That’ll be $300,000 a month from collections.Multiply it by 12 months.That’ll be $3.6 million a year.Multiply it by a modest 10 years worth of collection,that’ll be $36 million.Then again it’s just my bias unproven theory that such amount of money even exists.Going by the amount of money we need every year,am sure I’m way off my calculations.Maybe Yayasan Mendaki has lesser funds.

Or I can perhaps write about why I feel uplifted,angry,purposeful,inspired,revengeful and just plain emotional when I am listening in to One Republic’s,”Apologize”,like how I’m doing now.There is something haunting about the song.Something about the song that just throws me back into that wormhole of being an asshole.Something that cries out,”I could and have should done better.”

The Garment of Change

I just finished watching myself on television.It’s hard to believe but all praise to Allah that my wish of being able to be on live tv,with my bro Kai came by eventually.14 years ago,as scrawny teenagers that we were,appearing on television would have been a notion out of a Star Wars theory.But,by the great grace of magical opportunities,a chance came by.I believe that we,made good account of our brief moments of limelight.I was just cracking with laughter noting how Kai’s appearance was littered with scratching of his head,a mixture of Singlish and Malay and his self calling manner of making statements,like for example,”Khairil believe investments are good now…blah…Khairil feel…blah”.And how his certificates and family pictures got involved in the context of investments,beats the hell out of me.Hahahaha.(Even a fellow Facebooker commented on his certificate)But my thoughts were just on that idea that someway or somehow,a set of parents will be saying out loud to their daughter,

7.5 Love Lessons For My Son

This may be a bit premature but I was just thinking through the realms of my thoughts,should that day of reckoning finally arrives,when my son will be in his teens,grappling with the emotional facets of his unstable heart.He will be faced with unrecognizable fluttering and unfamiliar churning in his system.He might be looking for some sort of guide.Answers to his questions.Questions that I myself had to answer,on my own without the help of a fatherly figure.Obviously I had to rough it out in the wilderness of that thing called experience.All for that elusive search for that one thing called “true love”.Well,by now it’s pretty obvious that the whole notion is blasphemous.In my perspective at least.

But here I am,trying to assemble a piece of simple guide for my son.What to look out for,and what to avoid.What to remember and what to forget.(Hah!)

Walking along Clarke Quay

I had a Toastmasters meeting last night,in which I left early since the intended speaker I was to evaluate made a last minute disappearing act.Hate such moments but it’s those kind of unavoidable moments in life where things are just unexpected.Anyway,since the meeting was at Clarke Quay and the watched showed that I still had ample time,I decided to have my dinner.As I walked through the alleys of pubs and bars,a million images flooded the membranes of my memories.It’s been a while since I last stepped along the turf.

I decided to have my customary fried Maggie at a familiar Indian food outlet.My eyes were greeted by 4 attractive looking Malay ladies,having their dinner.With skirts and hot pants lining the curves on their bodies,it was not that hard to guess their agenda for the night.For a blue Monday,I was a bit surprised that people could have the motivation to enjoy a night out.But one man’s meat is another man’s poison.And so they say.Heck,for all I know they may just be working in one of those pubs.They noticed my greeting eyes and they responded with that piercing stare of,”What are you looking at?Do we look like sluts to you?”kinda look.At which point,I just looked away in embarrassment.Not because I was,but the corner of my eyes caught an auntie’s underwear peeking out from the hot pants of one of the ladies.I was blushing in embarrassment for her.Nude in color.

A Simple Man

Sunday was a great day.Only because I scored a stupendous goal.A goal that had the imaginative exploits of a trying footballer.To score a scissors kicked goal off a great play was gratifying.Praises to my Lord.I hand it solely down to Him.I’ve solved that conclusive mystery of an inspired based performance.Fact is,prior to that,I had performed my Asar prayers just before heading off to the filed at the Jamiyah Center at Geylang with Kai.This may sound ridiculous,but I had specifically supplicated that may I have His blessings to put in a good performance.After the last sujud,my eyes were just illuminated with clarity.Nothing divine behind that actually,as we all know that when you sujud,that posture allows blood through.Thus,the clarity in the eyes.And I believe I was playing that time whilst I was still in ablution state.It was just a magical and inspired evening of soccer for me.As I had mentioned to Kai and the guys,that when the ball was floated into the penalty area,everything around me just went into the background,and the ball suddenly appeared to be larger.Its movement towards me seemed to be slow in motion.It was just surreal.Everything after that was just a blank.All I remembered was me running back to the half line.Definitely my best orgasmic moment.

Play It!

Finally a real phone.

I finally got my hands on a new phone after a tormenting period of using my China manufactured phone for over 4 months.First mistake I made was to sell my Nokia 6300.Second mistake was to think that I need a PDA kinda phone.Third mistake was to imagine how using a stylus or touch screen will help.Last mistake was to get that wretched,non signal receiving phone.I hereby swear off any China version of anything and everything.And that includes XBOX or PS3 if they ever manage to clone one.And touch screen is a unique feature that I am not keen to explore.IPhone no longer appeals to me.I’ve had enough of touching anything.

I’ve still yet to catch SAW 5.Urrrrrrrrgh!

Downloaded a beautiful song awhile ago.Titled “Last Flight Out” by that now defunct gospel boy band,Plus One.Still recall how I used to blast that song every single morning and night in my bunk whilst serving my recruit days.My bunk mates had to hide the radio,before I continued bursting their ear drums.I was in love back then and the song kinda heightened the plethora of unbridled emotions.

I’ll be presenting a 20 minutes presentation to the National Football team over at Amara Hotel next Monday,and I’ve yet to prepare the slides.I just realized and formulated a program in which wealth management is very much like soccer management.The clients are the managers and financial planners like myself are the second hand man/head coaches like Carlos Queiroz.And your financial products are very much like your players.Let me illustrate,

Goalkeeper : Term Insurance

Central Defender ( 1 ) : Critical Illness Insurance

Central Defender ( 2 ) : Total & Permanent Disability Insurance

Left Defender : Hospital & Medical Insurance

Right Defender : Personal Accident Insurance

Central Midfielder ( 1 ) : Short / Long Term Endowment

Central Midfielder ( 2 ) : Whole Life

Left Midfielder : Regular Investment Linked Product

Right Midfielder : Single Investment Linked Product

Striker ( 1 ) : Unit Trusts / Stocks

Striker ( 2 ) : Annuity

Reserves : Home Mortgage , Company Employee Benefits , CPF , Traditional Savings , Others

In essence if I were to be asked what is my financial tactics,I’ll say that it is a 4-4-2.Like players,every product has its worth and prices.My job as a wealth consultant is to advise you on the players performances and benefits it may bring to your financial tactics.Ultimately,as the manager you still have to decide how much to allocate for that player/product.If your financial life is a game,what is your tactic?That’s my question.Selection of the needed player/product is crucial,and will also influence if you can play your financial game well enough to win it finally.Now I need a name for this wealth program.Anyone?

The Blessed Land

Kaabah

My beloved sis and brother in law had left just a week ago,for the Holy Land of Mecca to perform their Hajj.I envied their departure.To be the invited guests of Allah,over in His Holy Land,is such a blessing.It may seem weird that my sis and my bro in law who are both not working,are able to perform this obligation,without any hassle and complications.Although one may argue that they are able to go,with the proceeds from the sale of their house,I still adhere to that perspective that if Allah wills it,it will happen.I mean $30K for the both of them to depart,is no small amount.And my bro in law and sis sold the house a year ago.There are some people who sell their houses and get more money and yet can spend all of it within months.I noted with awe just how a blessed wealth can be stretched.It defies simple financial logic at times.Still remember the comments made by a participating workshop member after my session.In my session,I had mentioned about the blessings of wealth.How a low income earner can have his needs met without being deprived whilst the man with the extravagant pay check can barely survive after 2 weeks.This lady came up to me and thanked me for reminding her.She was just a helper at the mosque with a monthly income of $600.Yet she’s taking care of a household filled with an old aged mother,a cancer stricken husband and two kids schooled in madrasahs.And she’s not in dire needs of poverty.I was humbled to listen in to her sharing.I used to think that behind every story in life,there are numbers.Ever since I tried to gather resources for my programs and advises,I have learned so much.Instead of the former principle,I now think of what is the story behind the number.A millionaire could have gotten his wealth through robbery.The story behind his millions is therefore not worth mentioning.The man who drove a taxi sending his kids through university studies.The story behind his financial ability is worth emulating.That is why I get uncomfortable sometimes when peers or family members make remarks such as,”It’s okay with Jaz.He’s earning tonnes of money.”or “Jaz is rich.He can afford it.”Truth is,I’m uncomfortable because it makes the focal of my standing and reputation on my earning ability.Which is something I do not really desire.There are times when my earnings can be zilch for the month.There are times when my earnings are beyond my expectations.But I make it a point to not whine when it’s zilch.And when I make more,I make it a point to treat my family members or my clients.If one studies the mechanics of wealth building,one knows just how transient the numbers can be.I’ve earned in a year what people earn in three,but not a single cent is left of that money.Because how I derived that wealth and how I spent it were not blessed.I was ignorant.So,now am learning the ropes all again in the schematics of earning blessed wealth.The pursue of wealth is not my primary objective and I try as much to inculcate that value in my clients and family members.Because I’ve seen and experienced,how a little sum of money,coupled with the help of God can go a long way out.Even till now,I will never forget that experience of giving alms after my Friday prayers at Darul Ghufran mosque to a lady.I think the sum was $5.When I got back to office,I received a call from someone referred to me.He did business with me,and my commission from that transaction was in excess of $1K.Allah’s promise was true.Lend Him with your wealth and he will return it in folds.I still get goosebumps relating that story.

In relating my sis’s departure,I feel an acute sense of longing to visit Mecca again.In the very near future.May I be invited again,this time with my wife and child.For those who may not have got the opportunity to visit the Holy Land,do include your desire of doing so in your supplications.If they say Disneyland is a magical world,they obviously have not visited Mecca or Medina.

Quarantined In The Weekend Room

I’ve been guilty of not updating my blog.Heh.Then again,sometimes I truly wonder who reads my blogs or entries.I know I’ve got tonnes of traffic from Kai’s site,Redbacks’s site and to an extent my pal Sri’s site.Apart from all that,I wonder if I’m reaching out to a multitude of readers out there.Perhaps Sean Paul,P.Diddy and Jay-Z have been reading my entries to gain some inspiration.Wahahahaah.Or maybe,there are ex girlfriends out there who are reading my entries to detect any semblances of chaos and disorder in my life,so that they may slap themselves on the butt and exclaim,”See what happens to Jaz since I left him.”I know,sometimes the best way to feel good about yourself is by reveling in people’s miseries.It’s normal and I understand.In fact I always look through the obituaries to see if some enemies had passed on.Unfortunately,I do not have enemies worthy of my attention.

Random Nights Of The Unearthly Type

When do you know that you are having one of those random nights when anything can just happen?It’s when in the middle of the night at around 11 pm whilst you are watching America’s Next Top Model with your spouse,and your mum knocks on the door asking for your assistance.What assistance you ask?A neighbor who lives on the upper floor had just called your mum,saying that her daughter is spooked.So off you go,cleaning yourself up,taking ablution,grabbing hold off your mobile phone and your trusty Holy Quran.As the elevator makes its way up,images of turning heads,screams and twisting torsos fill up your highly charged imagination.As you make your way,you realize that the home was already filled with people judging by the number of footwear outside the door.As you venture inside the home,you noticed a familiar girl sprawled up on her kitchen dining chair.Eyes closed shut whilst saying,”Get her away!I do not want to see her!Get her away!”Nearby,a man clad in “songkok” went into the room and began calling out the prayers of “adzan” loudly.You just stand there clearly at loss as to how you should make your presence count.You tried to eavesdrop on the conversations,to understand the origins of the situation.In between chatters,you hear that the girl who was on her way home with her mum,(your neighbour),saw a white fleeting anomaly whilst in the cab along Upper Thomson.Curiously,she chose to exclaim the observation out loud to the irritation of her mum who obviously knew better.Too late.The anomaly apparently decided to tag along and pay a visit to her home as it made its horrific appearance to her,frightening her to pieces.And thus,here you are…

Best Reminder of the Day

Did my usual surfing and came upon this gem.Succinct yet full of wisdom.Masha Allah.

Just sharing with you.For if you practice even just one of these,Insya Allah I will reap the rewards of your good deeds,for it is good knowledge shared.

Taken from : http://alirfad.wordpress.com

- A traveler once came to the Masjid to see the Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W) after greeting the Prophet, he was asked where he was from. The traveler replied that he came from very far just to get a few questions answered. Following is the dialogue between the traveler and the Prophet.

Traveler         : I do not want azhab (punishments) to be written in my account.

Prophet         : Behave well with your parents

Traveler        : I want to be known amongst people as an intelligent person.

Prophet         : Fear Allah (Jalla Jalal Ho), always.

Traveler        : I want to be counted amongst Allah’s favorites.

Prophet         : Recite Qur’an every morning and evening.

Traveler        : I want my heart to always be enlightened. (Roshan and Munawer)

Prophet         : Never forget death.

Traveler        : I never want to be away from Allah’s blessing.

Prophet         : Always treat fellow creatures well.

Traveler        : I never want to be harmed by my enemies.

Prophet         : Always have faith in only Allah.

Traveler        : I never want to be humiliated.

Prophet         : Be careful of your actions.

Traveler        : I wish to live long.

Prophet         : Always do sile rahm. (Goodness towards blood Relations)

Traveler        : I want my sustenance to increase.

Prophet         : Always be in Wudhoo.

Traveler        : I wish to stay free of azhaab in the grave.

Prophet         : Always wear pure (paak) clothes.

Traveler        : I never want to be burned in hell.

Prophet         : Control your eyes and tongue.

Traveler        : How do I get my sins forgiven?

Prophet         : Always ask forgiveness from Allah with a lot of humility.

Traveler        : I want people to respect me always.

Prophet         : Never extend your hands of need at people.

Traveler        : I want to always be honored.

Prophet         : Never humiliate or put down anyone.

Traveler        : I don’t want to be squeezed by Fishare Qabr. (Squeezing in the grave)

Prophet         : Recite Surat El Mulk (The Dominion) often.

Traveler        : I want my wealth to increase.

Prophet         : Recite Surat El Waqiah (The Inevitable) every night.

Traveler        : I want to be safe and at peace on Day of Judgment.

Prophet         : Do Zikr (Praises) of Allah from dusk to night.

Traveler        : I want to be in full attention and concentration during prayers.

Prophet         : Always do Wudhoo with concentration and attention.

Salam Aidiladha From Me

Salam Aidiladha

Salam Aidiladha

May all our struggles and sacrifices be

rewarded with Allah’s blessings.

Insanity Of A Sanitized Malay

What is insanity?To Einstein,it’s a bout expecting a different result albeit repetitions of the same actions.(something like the state of my current Redbacks team.Heh!)Insanity in recent days to me has been about,Shah Rukh Khan getting a “Dato”ship.Insanity is about people over in our neighboring country trying to put a fixated point of blame,on the landslide that led to the collapse of one of their premier residences.Insanity is about the Thai people still grappling over who should be Prime Minister.A pro Thaksin party or a pro Thaksin party?Insanity is about the New Paper featuring two stories of pathetic Malay Muslim families,burdened with financial struggles.Families that turned down job offers because of unsuitability.Saddled with debts yet having the 40 inch flat screen with sound system as part of household items.Insanity is all about one thing.

Chaos.

The Man Napolean Feared

I do not particularly enjoy the year end period.Especially when I am in a industry that thrives on targets.By which I mean,the goal setting component of my industry.We do that year in year out.As financial planners,we are to put in a projection of our sales target,and are of course required to hit them or surpass them.Fact is,over the past two years,I’ve not been hitting mine.Cause of concerns for some,especially my manager.We had our year end review session yesterday afternoon.Needless to say,it was filled with tonnes of information downloading,on statistical evidence of people hitting their targets.In the common eyes of the industry,such people are successful.As I sat down there,I asked myself,”Why am I not affected by such displays of success?Why am I feeling empty with the glorification of successful people that are translated by the numerical superiority of their bank statements?Why?Why?Why?”

It’s so unfortunate that I am thinking.

Right after that session,my manager brought me into his room,and we had a mini coaching session.He asked reflectively on the 2009 goals and targets booklet I had submitted to him.First question he asked,

“Was the $8000 you had projected in your income statement for the year 2009,from your wife’s income?”

I gulped down my answer.Shocked and stunned by the question.What prompted him to think of that.

“No.That’s my projection for my side incomes from other ventures.”I answered albeit the shock.

He nodded and proceeded to explain to me why my dreams of becoming a well known speaker and trainer,was something that should be set aside for a while.I should be flourishing in the financial industry.I knew he was referring to my statement of intention that I wanna grow my own self development company by next year.He kept harpooning onto me,on the contradicting nature of me speaking so well,yet not being able to succeed financially well.He was talking about image and the needed credibility.He was saying that people are influenced by success and will want to emulate people who were successful,with a home and a car.He was saying that I may not be walking the talk.As he kept speaking his mind,I kept reflecting back on what was it that I needed.A legacy or a bank full of money.

Without a doubt,money is a vital cog in life.With it life becomes so much easier and practical.Yet,I no longer crave for it like a heroin addict.If I was money hungry,I would have resorted to a million obnoxious,non ethical ways to succeed.I’ve done it once and I know I can.But these days,I have a conscious mind that does not beep money.I highlighted to my manager how sickened I was by the constant innuendos I receive from colleagues and him alike,about how I should be flourishing,just because I can speak well.I told him that my speaking ability is a different context altogether.I could not relate clearly to the association.He said that I need to be well liked and reputable to attract.I need to have a car,to show that my success can breed success.Which I do not agree by.I will rather have people sticking by me,for the sheer reasons of my good principles,and not by the four wheels I drive.In a nutshell,there were many aspects of his views,by which I did not agree with.It makes secular sense if someone wants to be a Malay guy who has loads of cash,a car,a house and a reputation to boot along.Me?I prefer the simple things.

Scriptures For The Learned

It’s been a blessed past few days.Full of learning insights.I’ve been sleeping late,as I stared at my 8.9 inch screen watching Dr Zakir Naik provide me with his eloquent proofs of the Quran.It’s funny.I’ve never quite realized just how inadequate my knowledge had been.I regretted not studying hard enough in secondary school.To think that all the subjects taught had a grounded Islamic basis behind them.We’ve been brainwashed in a way to somehow think that Man came from apes.We were told of Darwin’s theory.That ridiculous theory.The funny side to it was that we had to learn this in secondary and even primary school when we were asked to do projects about dinosaurs.

Thinking about it,I was asking myself about the validity of what we had learned all this while.If we were to accept that dinosaurs existed,it means that we are also accepting Darwin’s theory of Evolution right?Simply because we know academically,that the first few cavemen came into prominence a few thousand years after the extinction of dinosaurs.Which sounds ridiculous,when I think about it.Accepting the notions of dinosaurs and cavemen means that I am accepting Darwin’s theory,which is a total conflict with the faith of Muslims and even Christians,of Adam and Eve.Yet,we are still being told that such things exist.Darwin’s radical theory that the world flourishes on that concept of “survival of the strongest”,is also ridiculous,coming to think of it.Cause it just made the existence of planktons redundant.

Another thing popped up in my extensive readings about the authenticity of the Quran.I mean,this sharing is just for the general reading of my beloved readers.Just thought that we,intelligent people,ought to know.Let me pose a hypothetical question.Is it possible for anyone,to humanely describe in vivid details,the events that happened 3000 years before his existence,and then relate that events to the future,which is 1400 years after his demise?Ridiculous you say.Well,unless,you are inspired by the divine Creator himself.Prophet Muhammad pbuh,had that distinction.

Fear What You See

I truly do not know if my last entry had served to put that thought into the reader,that Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park was all made up.Was sitting down today,and just thinking if I had any reasons to believe that dinosaurs did not exist.Or did they?But certain things came to mind to just raise my doubts.

1.Islam never discussed about their existence.Neither were they mentioned in verses or hadeeths.At least to my knowledge that is.

2.How come dinosaur fossils are always found in deserts,barren areas or somewhere we rarely heard of?Why not in Hollywood?Why not in Mecca?Okay,there is that theory of Earth having only one gigantic tectonic plate,before it broke up.Still,it does not serve to explain why the fossils are found in all areas,that we least expect.

3.If Adam was sent to Earth to act as a Khalifah,to manage the affairs of Earth,then dinosaurs cannot come before Man,right?Management of Earth entails plants and animals.

Just wondering.Enlighten me,if anyone could.

I’ve been brought up to believe a lot of things which I never questioned till now.Things like,

1.UFOs always seem to appear over America.

2.Aliens never liked to abduct Malays.(They sure know we are not that intelligent enough to be dissected upon)

3.Aliens had visited us in the past,and they were the superior race,teaching Mankind absolutely nothing.

4.If contacts were to be made,they will approach the US president.

…and etc.

Crying Out For A Leader

Who'll help him?

I’m still crossing my fingers.Waiting.Malaysia’s Prime Minister,has already issued out an official statement criticizing the Israeli’s attacks on the borders of Gaza.I’m still waiting.And waiting.It’s already past the first day of Muharram,and yet not a single televised account of a MUIS official,or Malay Muslim leader,saying something.A comment perhaps?None.

Indonesians had already sent their First Aid teams to Palestine.Their streets have been thronged with protests.Malaysian blogs have already been filled with comments.I’m still waiting,for an example from our community leaders to say something about the way their brothers and sisters in faith are being slaughtered.Or wait.That’s international and foreign affairs by which we have no jurisdictions to comment on.Is it?

Sigh.

Spare change anyone?

I’ve got some serious mental tuning I need to do.The creaking knee has consumed a considerable amount of storage percentage in my brain.Earlier in the afternoon,I had visited the physiotherapy center in front of my office,to just have a survey.To my dismay,the charges were exorbitant.Fifty bucks for an hour of knee tuning.Sigh.To complicate the evening,I found out to my horror that I had forgotten the knee guards,needed to hold that part of the limb,for my evening soccer session.I was proven right.My thoughts bested me.I struggled during the game,because I kept visualizing a busted knee.Darn.The powers of positive focus eluded me today.Truth be told,I knew that I probably did not need the support of a guard that much.But the psychological leverage it secured me was just too huge to give it a miss.The knee guard has become my losers limb.For now at least.That is till I see Ruud Van Nistelrooy’s knee surgeon.

What happens in Bintan,Stays in Bintan…

There are some things in life that can never be explained.Amongst those things,are the inexplicable nature of me having a stomachache as soon as I board the ferry and then suffering from the worst bout of seasickness ever.So,God hath humbled my darn egoistical perspective that I will never be seasick.In fact,I had brought along a thick book to read.Needless to say,the only book I should have brought along on that trip,should be entitled,”The Idiot’s Guide to Surviving Ferry Rides”.It still brings a smile to my face when I recall,just how someone was banging his fist onto the bathroom door,in which I was in.He banged and banged and all I did was to bang back in return.He must have crapped his waste in his pants.I learned a lesson.Never drink coffee on a morning ferry ride.

Consistent Contrarian

And so.Obama has been sworn in as the 44th President of the great nation,that is the United States of America,whom by chance had asked Hamas to stop attacking Israel.A statement by Condoleeza Rice urging the Hamas regime to stop the violence against Israel.whom by chance had only 13 people reportedly killed,whilst the Palestinian people had only about a few thousands killed and a few thousand others wounded and dying,as medical help is slowly inching its way into the area.Great nations like Israel have weird ways of dealing with “violence”.They either defend by releasing jet fighters against ground troops.Or they defend by spraying sulfur,as reported in the news.Either ways,they are defending themselves.And so they say.

I hope that Obama’s newly installed cabinet will do something.Then again,if you were to follow that contrary ideology of a conspiracy theorist,like myself,you’ll probably say that the Obama cabinet is just just another front line for the “behind the scenes” government,made up of a super league of extraordinary international bankers. Yupz,you heard me. It’s bankers.The same group of people who are reportedly,behind the catastrophic fall of the economic markets.Thus,if you follow the logic of that theorist,you know that the establishment of any state leadership in America,is just to facilitate the continuity of a grand old plan of creating a New World Order,that has once been admitted by Senior Bush to the council of United Nations.So,what does that make out for the typical Malay in you and me?

Mad Man Mad About Maidens

I just saw an MTV video of Neyo’s song,”Mad”,from his,”The Year Of The Gentleman”.It was an intriguing storyline.It began with a quarrel between himself and his partner,which ended with him walking out of the house.As he was getting down the stairs,a young boy chased a ball across the road.Expectedly,Neyo rushed over and the scene was cut.It continued with Neyo,looking over a covered body,bathed in blood.Then the scenes showed how Neyo was looking over his partner and so forth.Apparently,at the end of it all,it was clear that Neyo had passed on.Moral of the story is,

Never get mad for nothing,and then never being able to make up for it.

Crying For My Elevator Smile

I used to enjoy elevator rides.That surprise of being greeted at the 4th floor (i think) by a smile.Then that blank moment of inertia,as the elevator goes two floors up.Then as that smile exits the elevator,my heart cries out so loudly,to the oblivious ears of those around me.And I’ll carry that dazed,mortified facial expression back to my desk.And the welcoming colleagues knew,at that instant that I had once again been in touch with an angel at the elevator.

The Son,The Father and The Whatever

Aaaaah.The beauty of not being inspired for a week.The wondrous pleasure of realizing that being inspired these days,no longer takes the form of cleavage displaying ladies walking around in barely there outfits.The rapturous satisfaction of knowing that my dream car could possibly not be RX 8 anymore,but perhaps a CR 7.And yes,it does not mean Cristiano Ronaldo. It just means that. CR 7.

I enjoyed the weekend,because I discovered a facet of my demonic self.Played a friendly soccer game with my weekly social outfit,Stamford FC.We duly lost that game 5 – 3.But I enjoyed the loss.Because I expressed myself.And by that,I mean,I screamed,shouted and swore.After the game,I reflected quietly to myself,as to why I had a Jekyll and Hyde kinda performances with my two social teams,Redbacks and Stamford.It dawned on me,on that familiar camaraderie with Stamford.The fact that the players I had screamed at,came up to me and said,

Who The Hell Is This Consultant?

It’s been quite a while since I last had a confrontation of any sort.And it’s been quite a while since I had the pleasure of noting,how someone can view me as a threat/annoyance/prick.I had that humble privilege last few nights.At Masjid Abdul Razak.But before that,let me share a short preview.

The Moon Living Its Life

Live Your Life : TI and Rihanna

I was never a fan of Rap music.But this song caught my attention when I viewed it recently on MTV.Well,Rihanna being part of the setup was one thing though.What captivated me was the theme.You know how the Rap genre had the connotations of sex,violence and drugs.Or about how living in the hood was all about.Funnily enough,this song had all of that and more.I read through the lyrics and found that it had the genius of a poet trapped in a gangster’s physicality.TI,(the singer),apparently had lived through the life of a rapper growing in the hood.And the theme of the song is all about him stepping out of that “road”.He wants to pursue a better life.He spoke of how the “industry” is now diluted with people who are just lost in moral priorities.People who are rich but poor in happiness and satisfactions.He spoke about people bringing a sort of false expectations to the “industry”,with nonsensical comparisons such as cars,wealth and others.

Possible Impossibility

I grew intellectually today. By an inch I guess. Because I learned something profound. Well at least in my context that is. Here’s the trivia. What is the difference between a Muslim Malay professional and a professional Malay Muslim? I know what you are thinking, because I had that same aghast quizzical look on my face too. What kinda question was it? It was posed by Clive, Director at Vector Score Card, managing consultant for EDC.

Next Stop.Labor Ward.

There is something worse than knowing that your baby is due at a certain date.It is worse when you realize that time seems to inch its way so ever slowly,towards that blessed day.Going for the last checkup last two days was kinda enlightening.We were supposed to check on the baby’s heartbeat.The device amplified each beat with the frequency of a drum beater,where you’ll hear the highs and the lows.At a range from 132 to 175,I seriously wondered just what a baby can do inside that bag of water he’s in.

Let Your Diapers Do The Soaking

People say that having a baby in your home will be hard.Well,they are wrong.Having a baby in your home is VERY hard.I’m not complaining.I’m just saying that,not understanding why a baby cries make all my years of learning communication skills,pointless.But that’s besides the point.The point is,I’ve also discovered that a baby instinctively does not try to suck on my nipples when I carry them.Fikri is smart.The dad apparently is not.

The Week’s A Beach!

What does Jose Mourinho and me have in common?Aplenty.Good looks,obnoxious charisma and that tinge of arrogance.The only difference could be in that small category of success.Where he had virtually won everything there is in life,I’m still trying to find my niche.The fact is,he probably comes home to his wife,and his wife is probably wondering why people are all hyping about her husband.In her mind,she probably asks,”What is so special about this chap,that women all over the world swoon over w hite haired 40 plus year old man?”I believe the wife also asks the same thing,when it comes to me.Only the people who swoon over me,has the answers,cause even I feel that the thought of being admired is delusional.

Confessions Of A Weddingholic

There are somethings in life that is just inexplicable.Things such as Manchester United losing to Liverpool with a scoreline of 4-1.I will take the glory off the gloss,by stating that Liverpool did not in any way WIN the game.It was Man United that LOST it.Liverpool was bad,as was Man United who was worse.It’s difficult to fathom the frustrations.I’ve grown up to believe that a Man can only cry on two occassions.Once,when he loses his virginity.And second,when his favourite team loses to its arch rivals.The way Fergie’s face was flushed,I could tell that somebody was gonna get hurt,and it definitely was not gonna be a Kop player.

Hello HALO!!!

Some songs just seem to illuminate your inner being.The flavor song for me this month has been Ahmir’s cover of Beyonce’s Halo.Ahmir throws me back to the ages of Boyz 2 Men and their Motownphilly genre of smooth RnB songs.You know,the kinda that soothes your mind,clears your thoughts and just makes you feel as though you are in another planet altogether,standing beside Dr Manhattan.

The month of March has been relatively slow for me in sales.Not because I was not meeting people.I was.But the sales just seemed to be halted at one stage or another.Well,they say that wealth is best derived from the grace of Allah,and not to be acquired with unnecessary urgency.Hopefully,it’ll be good.

Relics For Clerics

I opened the newspaper today and read an article on the upcoming Maulidur Rasul celebrations/event that will be organized at the National Stadium.It was the same event that caught my attention yesterday,as there was a small advert given to me.It will showcase the collaboration of a local mosque and an organization spearheaded by a local Ustadz.I have mixed feelings when I read through the itinerary of the program on the aforementioned date.There will be a selawat recitation session by ex Singapore national footballers.And they’ve been practicing for this event.There will also be a mini honorary procession of some sort for local and Indonesian clerics,who had been invited for this special event.The news report mentioned that there could be around 30 Indonesian clerics that had been specially invited to grace the occassion.

What The Mayans Never Told You

I do not know if you are aware of this theory that the world will end on 21st December 2012!Well,it’s not exactly something new,as it has been the subject of books,findings and researches over the years.In fact,if you were to just Goggle,”What happens in 2012″,you will see scores of discussions in place.I was aware of this late last year when I chanced upon this book on Mayan cultures.As most of you are probably aware of,I am an avide fan of history.Ancient histories that is.Well,the theory goes about to expound on that detail of Mayan calendars.Mayans were an intelligent bunch of people.Discounting the theory that they had the aid of alien intelligence,it did seemed that they were in possession of modern yet arcane knowledge.In fact,I was even more astounded when I watched a documentary on cable last month.In that short documentary,historians actually discovered that the Mayans who had built their temples a.k.a pyramids,had made it such that at a certain point of the day,it will seemed to appear that a giant sanke was scaling up its stairs.Amazing!I watched in amazement as they attempted to replicate the whole event by building a midsize model of the temple,with exact ratios.They then used a torchlight,aligned at the determined angle,at which the sun is supposed to shine on the stairs of the temple.Lo and behold,that as the torchlight(mock sunlight),made its way from east to west,there was indeed a shadow of a serpent making its way up the stairs of the stairs.Subbhanallah!

Therapy For The Recessions

When was the last time you cried?Why did you cry?What did you cry over?

I’ve been fascinated by the therapeutic powers of crying.Somehow,the Creator has installed within our bodily functions,the faculty of therapy and inner healing.Why am I talking about crying?Obviously because,my baby cries.As I hold him,every single day,I’m amazed by the fact that Allah hath made crying,the first mode of understood communication.Babies cry,and we adults interpret those cries as a host of things.Discomfort,nappy changing time,hunger,itch,calling for attention and other important things to a baby.As they grow older,such cries are substituted by words.Funny though that even words,still get misinterpreted.

I heard somewhere the other day,that our Father,Adam,when he was banished to Earth had bowed his head and knelt,crying asking for forgiveness from his Lord for 200 years.He was ashamed of his sin.I am ashamed of myself.I cannot even “sujud” for 10 minutes.And I’ve committed more sin,that’s for sure.

When was the last time I cried whilst praying?

Anyway,if you have not listened to Qari Ziyad Patel recite the Quran,I implore and suggest that you do so.Wait let me rephrase that.You must.It will be a blasphemous shame,if you die without listening to the beauty of the Holy Scriptures,recited by this blessed man.It’s so beautiful.The kind of beta melody that will put you into that alter consciousness.Imagine just sitting alone,in the vast plains of the sandy desert,without anything else but your MP3 with the recitations being played.

Just a sample of how you can get the winners of 8 seasons of American Idols,have them sing the best composed song on Earth,and still they will lose to the sheer relaxation factor,the voice above had given through the holy verses.

I hope this short entry,will get you moving to download the MP3s of the above reciter.Believe me,it’s one of the cheapest self healing method you can ever employ on yourselves.Relaxation guaranteed.

The Appreciative Man Of Zanylon

Sometimes it’s a blessing to touch base with the notion that your life is perhaps so much better.I think you can identify with me on this.On the fact that a sense of appreciation is actually a sense of feeling coming from within.Yes,truth is sometimes we do need that tinge of appreciation from those around us.Friends,colleagues,loved ones and so forth.But what happens,when those gratifications from an external source is no longer granted,or have perhaps never been given at all?

Can You Book That Book For Me?

Yesterday evening was quite a day.And by that I mean,that I discovered a facet of myself.Was scheduled to have an appointment over at Funan at 1830.I reached City Hall at 1700,right after my session of public speaking coaching with the girls at CHIJ.Several things came to mind as to how I could spend that one and a half hour,but I decided to prioritize.Off I went to have my late lunch at Long John Silver,over at Capitol building.Settled for Golden Deal with two chickens,with coleslaw added.As time passes,I am inclined to believe that either my eyes are failing me,or the chicken that they serve these days are getting smaller.Anyway,it is in my personal opinion,that the coleslaw offered at LJS,happens to be the best in those served at fast food joints.Second best is Tenderbest’s.I plonked myself in one of the seats so that I could face the windows,and watch the world pass me by as I ate.Scores of minahs and mats walked past.Most of the minahs,were eye candy.Visual feast,because it seemed like that they wanted their family jewels to pop out of their tight clothings.Ample cleavages showcased by girls barely old enough,to buy cigarettes.I was pertubed,because I never had those kind of girls whilst I was in secondary.Finished my meal in a record time of 25 minutes,and headed straight out to the building next to Capitol.

Father of all Motherly Theories

Standing in the line awaiting for the shuttle bus,Hijazi,put down his bag on the floor.He flipped through the pages of his recently bought book.Suddenly the silence of the air was shattered by the shrill of a voice behind him,

“Where is this place ah?”

Hijazi turned his head,and saw a bespectacled woman,with a mobile phone in her hand,screaming,

“Where is this place ah?”

Two Steps.One on the Ego,the other One Forward.

I’ve kept away from you,for quite a while have I not?So,did you miss me?Well,I did.But being bereft of inspiration can be a bane.Especially on someone like me.A Bruce Wayne underneath that cloak of a financial planner.Life is ironically boring when so many exciting things are happening.Like how my beloved Redbacks has to go through that upheaval of getting new players.It’s not so much about the movement of players,especially in this era of transfer dealings being ridiculously expounded.In  my social context however,it’s more of players moving to play in other teams.No qualms about it,because I am an advocate of human rights.Free to play,free to go.But it’s the manner at which some individuals hasten their departures,that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth,which have me nodding in agreement with my theory that our next generation have a lot to make up.Apart from one,it was disappointing that a major part of the leaving players lacked the balls to perhaps,just bid a word of farewell.I mean,it’s as good as entering someone’s house,dining and shitting there,and having the audacity to just walk out the gates.Of course,my theory of free to play,free to go applies.What am saying is that,a usual,unassuming human being usually has that thing called decency of manners.It’s a rhetorical statement if we pinpoint such things to parenting or education,cause I never liked to blame both.Cause as Arsene Wenger and Fergie said,”If you are good enough,you are old enough.”Which in their case,might be neither.But I don’t blame such individuals.Being tenacious and zealous young men,it just means that they need to express their talents and egos on a platform where they are not stifled or confined to the rigid standings of middle aged men.It just means that they see,their man management and creative streaks are best exploited at a level,where they can pat themselves in the back everytime on a job well done,without having the figments of advices of middle aged men who do not know what they are talking about,after playing football for the number of years these young men have lived.It’s regrettable,that somehow,the analogy of blowing bubble is apt for this context.For these young men,are blowing a bubble big enough for them to encapsulate themselves in.

Tweet The Teats

I’m sure you’ve heard of that new song piece from Justin Timberlake. The one where he sang with Ciara, entitled, “Love Sex Magic”.3 intriguing words lined up in one title. What a great way to just mess that horny,adrenalin rush in each and one of us.I was just trying to reason out as to why the order of the words were placed in such a manner.Why not magic first,followed by sex and then love? That’s what a typical Playboy host will do.(ehem).Create the magic,and then in the mentioned order.But I guess,the producers for the song was spot on.People fall in love,then they do that thing they do and say it’s magic.I think.

I was on my way home,from office just now.Stopped at Lucky Plaza bust stop.As I was making my way to the subground tunnel to the MRT station, a client called.As I was engrossed answering her queries,I noticed a lady with biceps and big boobs coming down the stairs of Lucky Plaza.And when I say big,it’s big as in perhaps a 38 or something.I choked on my saliva,when I saw her.Why?Because,firstly,she was clearly a “he”.A tranny.It was wearing a low cut neck blouse that had its ample bosoms just wanting to spill over.And no,I had no reasons to get excited because,it’s nipples were just super erected,that it sure made Madonna’s cone shaped brasierre a farce.It was fake ugly as a sight.I literally stopped in my tracks just to recollect my fleeting sanity.The client at the other end was calling out for my attention,but I was just dumb speechless.It’s horrendous.There was no lov,sex or even magic with that “lady”.

Do You Know Me Well Enuff?

Facebook has this wacky application where one is able to create a series of questions,designed to find out if people around you truly knows you.It’s that application called”How well do you know?”.It’s wacky only for the sheer fact,that it can set temperatures rising.As typified by my missus the other day,when I posted my very own version of it.It was amusing noting just how berserk she went,when she discovered that she scored somewhere in the 50% region.*lol*.She claimed that the answers that I had designed for the posted questions were “fake”.Meaning that I probably did not mean it.I got the same response from my sister who excitedly claim that I had manipulated my answers,as it was not reflective of who I was.

Respectfully Preaching

Let me just get some random thoughts of my head,whilst the lingering stench is still there.

1.Was having a makan session with Kai the other day,and he casually mentioned about a preacher he had heard earlier after his dawn prayers that Sunday.Kai used the term,”fundamentalist” in his casual description of this particular preacher.Was interested to know what could have drove this bro of mine to say such things.Apparently,this preacher had implied explicitly that the pursuit of all things material,ie,wealth and riches was something that should not be propagated.I understand from where Kai was coming from,on this issue,as it was akin to insinuating that collecting riches was perhaps sinful,if in accordance to this preacher’s warped view.

Legends Of Islam (Part 1)

I’ve been thinking.

For over a month now,I’ve not been the least inspired to type in an entry.I’ve did actually.Typed two full paragraphs and I’ll press the “delete” button.That was how demoralized I was.Did not have the will to type my thoughts.

If you happen to be free,and not knowing what to do,can I kindly suggest to you a website?Seriously,all praises to Allah,for helping me stumble onto this gem of a site.

http://www.hoor-al-ayn.com/

Why is this website a gem?

As I am typing in this entry,my ears are plugged into an audio I had downloaded earlier in the day.The MP3 audio entitled Salahuddin Al Ayubbi.It’s a beautiful piece of audio.Two days ago,I had downloaded a piece speaking on the same historical figure.The MP3 was entitled Legends of Islam,Salahuddin Al Ayubbi.It was an hour lecture that was impactful in the way a man’s biography was told.I hate to admit this for fear of over dramatization,but I have to highlight this poignant piece of info.I choked and held back my tears whilst I was in the train to soccer,listening to the lecture.Hard for me to explain,but there was a series of narration in that lecture that made my head and heart swirl with a multitude of unexplained emotions.There was this intense feeling of embarrasment,shame and fear at the state of life I am living.Before I go on further,I have to just highlight a statement made by my brother in law that made the deepest sense.

“People give birth to children,and are already planning for their future,(eg education,wealth,status,marriage,social standings etc.)How many are actually planning a guaranteed place for their children in Jannah?How many parents have thought about it?”

It stucked me hard because,I am guilty as charged.Overly concerned with how my son,will cope with intellectual developments.Physical developments.Speech developments.All sorts of developments,except that of those that can ensure him a guided path.Shame on me,the father.

Anyway,back to the great warrior general,Salahuddin ra.As I heard the narration,I was mesmerized by his charisma,personality,wisdom,bravery and most of all his leadership.I strongly suggest that if you,the reader,is a man who aspires for a role model in life.A hero.Download the MP3.Insya Allah that hour long lecture will shed and illuminate a zeal and drive to be purposeful.

In a previous audio lecture I heard,there was a narration in which it was told of what really motivated Salahuddin to liberate the Holy Land of Jerusalem.It was a vivid poetic narration of how Salahuddin entered the city and read out a letter that he had received from a woman in the city.If I am not wrong,the lady had described herself as a mosque that had been molested by the hands of crusaders and she had called out to Salahuddin,the “destroyer of crucifixes and crosses” to help her.That plea of help,drove Salahuddin to claim back the lands of Jerusalem.It was a beautiful way to describe a majestic entrance.Just inexplicably beautiful.

There were narrations after narrations of his leadership and his charisma.His sworn enemies attested to how just he was as a leader.In fact,there were accounts that upon his death,the Jews within Jerusalem had sent out letters to their bretherens in other parts of the world,grieving the demise,of the best leader any nation could ever have.How many Muslim leaders today can claim to such honour?

I have a lot to write about this grand man.In fact,I will want to dedicate a research into the fundamentals of leadership from the biography of Salahuddin Al Ayubbi.And I will not stop there I guess.There’s Khalid Ibn Walid,Umar Al Khattab and so many others.And the best of all,the Prophet p.b.u.h.

Funny how,I’ve been looking for role models outside the context of Islam for so long,when there is a mine awaiting in the historical annals of Islam.

May Allah guide me on this fantastic journey of discovery…

…and please brothers and sisters,visit the website http://www.hoor-al-ayn.com/. There is a whole host of resources for every need and learning you want. Seriously.I’ve just erased 1GB of songs in my MP3 to put in all the lectures.And spread the info around to your loved ones.The message I share here,if replicated and practiced,even I will get the good deeds,insya Allah.salam!

ps:for therapeutic sessions at night when you need to be close to yourself and your Lord,perhaps you may wanna download the nasyeeds.Especially the ones from Palestine…

Black or White Branding

In a not so distant past, a scrawny bespectacled guy stood and exclaimed, “Hi,my name’s Michael Jackson.” The corny introduction exploded the classroom into a episode of mocking giggling! That scrawny guy was me, on my first day in Secondary One.

Fast forward, and here I am scrolling down the pages of tributes laid for the legend that he was. Mr Michael Jackson, or perhaps as rumoured, Mikael, a name he took upon embracing Islam.And so we were told.His unexpected demise was made known to me,as early as the break of dawn when I was bottle feeding the baby.As surreal as it was,seeing the bold headline flashed across Channel News Asia, it was even weird to feel gratified. Gratified perhaps by that small fact that I am a generation,lucky enough to witness his crotch grabbing antics on real time.Not through the yesteryear memories embodied in YouTube vids.That will be for my son.As the days pass,and as more news and snippets of his life filters through,I feel sadden.

Perhaps sadden is too general a term to use.I’m not a myopic fan,who’ll probably conspire to claim that he’s still dancing with Elvis.I’m just another human being,who have been subtly impacted by the branding legacy of his music.As footages of young Michael screeching on the stage with his entourage of Jackson 5 played itself,I cannot help but wonder aloud…”What happened?”

No doubt,as days,weeks,months and years pass,we will probably be engulfed with bits and pieces of his life story.He was a child abuser,a homosexual,a bulemic,a misfit, a depressed and forlorn figure and a gazillion other adjectives describing a flawed hero.How did a musically inclined prodigy self destruct on the paths of depression and aggression?Did the fame and scrutiny proved to be a disastrous cocktail of events,that drove him onto the brinks of insanity?Or was he destined to forever be enshrouded in that legacy of erratic behaviours and clueless antics.Poor Michael.Michael the entertainer was an immaculate example of just what artiste this days are severely lacking.Raw passionate showmanship.The one handed white glove.The smooth almost floating Moonwalk.The declining almost impossible 45 degrees decline.And that memorable crotch grabbing motion that leaves both men and women delirious.

Which brings me to the point of this entry.Just what did I learn and can learn from this mountain of a man?

• Branding

There is and can only be one Michael Jackson.He may be debt ridden in the region of half a billion,but analysis has indicated that his music legacy will surpass the billion mark profits.Just like Bruce Lee,John Lennon,Kurt Cobain and so many others,the legacy left will provide sustenance for their family’s upbringing.But how did Michael elevate himself,as the black man that defined the entertainment industry in a white man’s country?

Simple.He packaged himself as the complete brand.A brand that renews,reinvents and redefined the face of music/entertainment industry every now and then.

And for that alone,he is worthy of the legend tag he is entitled to…

RIP MJ.

Fixing A Broken Heart that’s filled with stories

How do you describe a song that is so ingrained in that corner of your alpha and omega state of consciousness as that song that seemed to define a certain period,event or just person?

7.5 Reasons Why Being A Dad Is Great.

I’m a newly minted Dad.Well,not exactly new.I’m into my 5th semester.But I’ve realized certain points,I reckon can be taken by some,as a reason good enough to appreciate that new Life.

Reason 1 : Having people remark how your child looks like you.

This is a reason that my other half absolutely hates.But I always soothe her by saying that perhaps,the remark was just a casual and general observation.I always highlight that looks and physical appearances are temporary,and therefore does not mean much.Instead it’s things like her intelligence,wisdom,personality and so forth are the ones the child probably inherited.In all fairness,my son can have all the intrisic things that his mother have,but having people say that his eyes,smile and cuteness is like me,just makes my pants drop a bit.Besides,my child should look like me.Who else should he look like right?

The Biggest Balls Definitely’s Not Yours

I will like to think that I am beyond criticizing these days.The old adage that if you cannot beat them,you avoid them sounds or at least rings a tune to me.I have to mention this snippet of an incident to highlight why sometimes I find that some guys just have their balls in the wrong location.

About 5 days ago,I had received a text message from a close friend of mine.Around 2 am.A female.Oh okie,it’s actually a cherished former soulmate.She texted,asking how I was and how the baby was.Since it was kinda late,I ignored the messaged and decided to text her  a reply at a later opportunity.That later opportunity was yesterday evening,as I was on my way home.The typical bored me,texted her a message replying that everything was good,and the baby was good and kindly asked how she was faring herself.I did not get an immediate reply though.So,when Igot home,I received a call from an unknown mobile number.The bane of my career these days,is that I will pick up any unknown calls,cause you never know who will be at the end of the line.Anyway I picked it up and a man’s voice was heard,

Sick Of Wealth

I’m not rich.Definitely far off from being wealthy.I am wearing a watch that costs me $12.My wallet costs me $8.My mobile phone was given to me by my sister.I sleep on a bed that costs $150,with a mattress that costs slightly less than $50,perhaps.My side table lamp costs,$18,bought from Mustafa Center.My most expensive shirt costs $23.My most expensive pants costs $80,bought 8 years ago by my ex girlfriend.I carry two $1.85 pens for my appointments.My most expensive folder costs $35,bought 6 years ago.My most expensive jeans costs $30,after conversion,after having bought it at Bangkok 4 years ago.My most expensive business shoes costs $29.90.My most expensive casual shoes,cost $20 after having bought it at City Square Johor Bahru.And yes,I’ve yet to buy a soccer boot that costs more than a $100 bucks.

Why am I recalling all this senseless facts?

Whines Of a Whimsical Whiner

*Disclaimer

I blame no one for the entry below, for my neurotic rants.I am responsible for every course of actions I undertake.And yes,I don’t really care if you have an opinion about this entry.I am just entitled to mine.*winks*

 

I’ve not been to office for the past one week.I lazed around the confinement of my room trying to gather a semblance of organized thoughts.I was restless.Restless with my conflicts.So I made myself useful,by being a daddy,playing with my kid.I surfed non stop.Explored blogs,websites and anything I can get my hands on,or rather what my mouse could scroll over.My restlessness stemmed from that stupid question I asked myself earlier in the month of August which was,”Why am I chasing after people who do not care about their money?”Truth was,this whole planning for people processes are getting to me.I no longer gain the satisfaction of investing/wasting my time,on peepz who will probably lapse their policies in 6 months.Screw what my manager has to say about residual/passive income.I no longer seem to care,seriously.

It’s All In The Noose

It turned out to be an amusing morning. I woke up, read the news, watched the news and pondered about news. It’s been one heck of a week I think. But firstly, my heart goes out to the Samoans, who had just been hit by an 8.0 magnitude earthquake. For a coastal area, such a catastrophe should have been catalysmic. Days ago, Manila was hit by severe floods and Indonesia was also hit by a natural disaster. Brings a sense of foreboding worry. For me, personally at least.

The Real Thing About Realities

Two people enquired about a soccer friend of mine today. The reaction that I gave, was in my opinion, unbecoming for a married 28 year old like me. I gave the nonchalant, oblivious and I don’t give a darn kinda answer as to his whereabouts. As I sat down, pondering on why I have this acute sense of disgust for his disappearance, I then realised the root of my distress. I believe I care enough to realize and sense when someone is wasting something away.

One More Shot

I read The Alchemist the other day. Two days ago, actually. How did I get to know of this wonderful literature? Was watching videos of Will Smith on You Tube, and he mentioned or rather accredited his level of success to the book. So dear Hijazi decided to download the book, and spend the next 7 hours reading it. I was captivated.

In a gist, the book narrated the story of a boy, a shepherd who decided to one day pursue his “treasure” on the advise of a mysterious old man. His jouney took him from Spain to Egypt. Along the way, he learned so many wonderful real life lessons, which I totally related to. Eventually, he followed his Signs and Omens, and the Soul of the Universe and finally realized where his real treasure lied. It’s an absolute classic. The learning point that I got from the book was totally poignant. It was all about following that dream.

Which Of Your Blessings Did You Deny?

It's All About The Principles

I’ve honestly never took any serious consideration with regards to the coming of the Islamic New Year. Which is bad. Considering that just hours ago, we had ushered in the new year, or rather a new month of Muharram. As I sat down at the table having dinner with my family, watching the Malaysians usher it in with full meaning, I began to comprehend a new knowledge. A new realization.

When I was younger, from the age of 9, I had been brought up with stories of the Prophet and his Sahabahs. My mum, particularly bought me a book I can still clearly remember its title, “Khulafa Al Rasyid”. The book told the stories of our beloved Prophet’s most beloved Companions, the Four Caliphs. I prided myself back then, at my ability to narrate snippets of their lives, the chronological details and so forth. In essence, I was well acquainted with their biographies. These days, it’s only glimpses and flashes of memories. Which is a pity.

Growing up these days, kids and adults alike are surrounded and overwhelmed with successful individuals of a different type. Those who had amassed wealth, are seen as role models and biographies worth indulging in. I think people these days are more at ease to narrate the lives of Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Robert Kiyosaki and so forth. I’m as guilty of such mindless indulgence.

As I tried to grasp a symbolic understanding of the coming year, I recalled the stories of the 313 Companions of the Prophet who won the Battle of Badr. I am reminded of the atrocities Ammar Bin Yasser had to endure. I am pained by the memories of Bilal. Stories of the Companions come flooding back to me. Aplenty. Stories of courage, perseverance, faith, leadership and of sufferings.

As throngs of people will probable wish each other a Happy New Year, in a fortnight, have we asked ourselves, if we have ever been tasked with the responsibility of defending our faith?

Sadly and true, our Suria channel, the so called, self professed representation of a Malay Muslim community media network, did not manage to squeeze in a program worthy of significance in commemoration of the Muharram. Is it deemed too Islamic, to warrant a place of airtime?

Whilst the bigwigs of the faith, go around spreading the goodwill message of Islam by visiting temples and churches, what is with the strenghtening  of the Muslim community? Who is knocking on our doors to wish us wishes of Muharram? Who is calling out for new resolutions to elevate the moral, status and dignity of the community?

The recent debacle about the problems plaguing the community is a rhetorical issue. As I mused myself over the forum pages in our Berita Harian, I came to a conclusion. There is no need for the powers that be, to spend time and money to research on the causes, effects and solutions. Why? Because, it’s not a modern issue. It’s not a contemporary problem. It’s not a race/faith biased complications. It’s just a representation of the social imbalances that will happen, when a way of life is not adhered to. In the simplistic sense, Malay Muslims are not living a Muslim life to elevate the Malay community.

Easier blogged and mentioned then executed, you say. Agreed.

But the fact is this. No amount of campaigns, educational crusade, media 2.0 exposures or government policies will ever improve a situation, that has its issues rooted on the problems of spiritual disorientation.

Let me tell you why.

Parents killing their kids is not new. Umar r.a, buried his daughter alive, back before he was a Muslim, and so did scores of people in his time. Islam changed him.

Problems of intoxications is not new.That is why, Islam prohibits intoxicants in any form. Scores of Companions drank before the verses of prohibitions were revealed. Islam came, and the culture of drinking was abolished.

Financial problems and poverty is not new. Early Muslims, were boycotted and left to hunger in the desert by the Meccan folks for their insistence on following the Prophet. Most Muslims, were left to fend for their own. Islam came, with a system of equality, of sharing, of charity and entrepreneurship. The economic landscape changed for the Muslims.

Early marriages is not a problem. Islam encourages marriages, to protect the dignity of women and to restrain the urges of men. To make sexual relations permissible. To foster the spirit of family bond. To give birth to new Muslims and Muslimahs. To encourage the growth of lineage. The problem with Malay Muslim marriages, is that it’s not grounded on such principles. It’s not Islam’s fault. It’s the misapplication. And it centers around the whole Malay culture itself. That of expectations, exaggerations, extravagance and exclamations. If the concern of a couple and their family is on the wedding, then the problem is with the marriage.

No leadership. This is a central issue, worth pondering and analyzing. When you have a message, and lacking the messengers, who’s fault is it when the community does not comprehend the vision, the implications and effects they should gear their lives towards to? Why are the bigwigs, contented with cutting ribbons? Why are the leaders contented with announcing the arrival of Ramadhan and Syawal on televisions? Why are the leaders contented with sitting behind a PC to type in their views and comments and opinions? Why are the leaders contented with filling their stomachs with dinner functions,after dinner functions for non Muslims, to understand Islam?Why are the leaders contented with portraying the realities and fallacies of the through arts,tv and radio?Why are the leaders subjecting themselves to behind the scenes action?

Where is the leadership?

Ask yourself, when was the last time a fellow Muslim or Muslimah asked you to perform jemaah prayers with you. Disregard the context of your family. Your fellow leaders? Your fellow friends? Your fellow relatives?

And yes…I believe even I am part of the transgressions most of the times.

Therefore I have a very simple resolution for my Muharram. I aspire to be a leader. In all capacities of my life.

The Superman In Me

The Superman Within You

I read the papers today. Berita Harian to be exact. The full forum page that was dedicated to the discussion of the problems of the community, to be more specific. Scores of opinions, views and recommendations were put forth. However, one train of thought provoked my inner sanctum. That recurring theme, called Personal Empowerment. In essence, people were crying out for efforts and initiatives to be drawn up, so that the community will be empowered. I just thought that the idea was contradictory, since self empowerment should stem out from the roots of personal motivations rather than a community’s initiation. But anyway, it’s the job of the policy makers to worry about it for now. The passive voice in me, kinda beeps with that blinking sounds of, “Just wait and see, Jaz.” For now at least…

I was surfing You Tube, trying to find something inspiring. And that beeping voice cried out for one of evergreen, motivational song of all time. Five For Fighting’s “Superman”. I used to repeatedly play this song, whilst going through an episode of failed romance, failed life and all sorts of failed ventures. The lyrics of the song strikes a chord. Even till now. Words, such as, “…looking for special things,inside of me.”"I’m only a man, looking for a dream.”and my all time favorite “It’s not easy to be me…” The words in the song seems to carry that pertinent tone of effort. That side of knowing, how powerful one can be, yet be susceptible to the common flaws of a human being.

Truth be told, these days, I am a bit uncomfortable with the overwhelming thoughts of positivity, great attitudes, NLPs, affirmations and whatever not there is to that grey area of self development and empowerment. Self help mentors and gurus, are thriving and flourishing like shitake mushrooms. As I reflect on my own journey in life, and trying to grasp with the progress I made, I realized that I did not actually thrive on positive energy, that is so abundant these days. Yes, I did have score of motivational literatures and audios. I hypnotized myself. I affirmed myself. I influenced myself. And all that positive efforts paled in comparison, to the power of depression, sadness, helplessness and failure.

Okay, perhaps this is an antithesis of the whole idea of self empowerment, but I seriously believe that I was at my peak and productive self when, I was just feeling plain shitty about my life and circumstances. The best perfect example, as I’ve mentioned before, and which still serves as the most vivid example of potential power, that’s unleashed, happened when I found out a loved one cheating on me. The broken door hinge in my home, to this very day, best illustrates the amount of kinetic energy a body possess under great duress. I mean, I just broke a brass hinge on the door. Nothing big. I mean, I just did it with my fingers…

The fact is, and was back then, I unleashed my own personal kinetic power under immense sadness, anger and just pure helplessness. It’s lame, but I definitely did not affirm myself to that episode.

Or, the fact that I scored two goals, a day after that, in a soccer match. Kinda channeled all that anger into a singular and purposeful energy.

Anyway, this is just a side example. The main matter here is that, there is a Superman within all of us. That immense potential that was engineered and designed to be unleashed for the greater good, amongst us. Indeed, most do not realize this, and perhaps die with that thing called unfulfilled destiny. I am seriously of that belief that we were not created in vain, and that rather corny joke about being the fittest sperm, as something  which is true. It’s pure ridiculous, even for an intellectual atheist to say that life ends as it is, and that’s it. If we started off life, as a race between wiggling sperms, then there has to be due rewards at the end of it, right? The thought that we just die, and turn into crushed dust, without nothing to look forward to, is just grim and in my honest opinion, sad. So, yeah, now we know, why there is that concept of afterlife.

Besides that point, is not life then, a grand scheme of making sure potentials and destinies are fulfilled. God has made it so succinctly clear in the Holy Quran, that we, are made out to be leaders. Our Prophet has explained that we are all Shepherds, clearly responsible for our flocks. So there we have it. That tinge of reminders, that hey, we have within us that innate capability to impact the world, the people in that frame of accountability. Yet, so many of us, choose to be swayed into that mode of carefree dependency. The Que Sera Sera.

Anyway, here’s my personal take on this whole Superman symbolism in my life. Contrary to what I initially perceive, as unIslamic, Superman, as a concept, is not really that far from that imagery of unlimited possibilities. The Prophet’s Companions, in my humble opinion, showcased even greater traits than the American Superman. The reasons are quite simply on the basis that, despite the lack of technologies, and intellectual advances, they shaped a whole landscape of history. Those facets deserve another blog post, considering the scopes it covers. Even one Companion of the Prophet can take volumes of self development materials.

But here’s my Supermanic views of self empowerment, and how it may be employed.

Powers Are Developed

- I take it that we all possess, natural talents. Things that God endowed us with. Superman was born with the ability to fly, run at speed and leap with heights. But he never discovered all that till a circumstance arrives, thus facilitating an opportunity to realize his powers. We are like that. Abundant in potential, and will probably take some time to be unleashed. But we definitely have them. Either wait for the circumstance, or make one. You will never know you can fly till you are pushed off a building.

Earth’s Sole Protector

- In Superman’s context, he sees himself as the only defender towards everything evil. In my context of application, it’s about having, knowing and executing a greater purpose in life. That’s what we lack at times. That image of having a big enough reason to exist. Most of us are probably contented with being just another citizen in Metropolis. Sure it gets you by. You will be safe and contented. And so will 5.9 billion other people. So the cake is this. What is your purpose? Whats de mission?

Having a Lois Lane / Lex Luthor

- Existing and wanting to have a purpose is pointless, if you do not have sources of love and hatred. In Superman’s case, it’s Lois and Luthor. We need to be motivated. What better way to motivate ourselves than to know, that a loved one is always in need of us, and a competitor is out to get us. We have to draw that innate energy from somewhere, and sometimes when we get disillusioned by our greater purpose, a loved one or  foe comes in handy. Besides, we need the fun and challenges.

Knowing Krytonite

- It is imperative that we know what our Kryptonite looks like. For me, it comes in the form of feelings. Intense feelings can affect me, drain me and just kill me. For some it’s lack of cash. For others, it’s lack of sex. Or whatever. But knowing that vulnerability within you is of utmost importance. Cause you’ll never know, who might have them. Yups. It can even be a loved one, unknowingly. When you know your Kryptonite, you will know how to avoid it at all costs.

In general, the points above are not extensive, but they definitely carry weight in my evaluation with regards to effective personal empowerment. I recognize that the above has been and probably my guiding light. This post will serve to remind me in years to come, that it will be the right approach.

I concur with the song…

“…even heroes have the right to dream.”

Just Getting This Out Of My Way

Don't Just Wait

I learned that people do not like to be told. Or maybe to be confronted with hard truths. Or maybe to be knocked with the harsh realization that whatever thoughts hey have are wrong. You may have been in this situation before. Where you may be forced to suck in your will, and attempt to diffuse a rather “wrong” situation by saying the next nicest thing possible.

A friend of mine consulted me over his finances about 3 weeks ago. He wanted to save. I wanted to help him save. His wife was hesitant, ( which may have been my failure at not presenting/stressing the need ). He finally committed to a premium, which I was ready to collect a week back. One night before the scheduled meeting, he text saying that he had to delay the premium, by slightly a month. For an unforeseen urgency.

The reply I gave

In a rather reactive mode, I told my dear pal that he could not save, and told him that he would have been better off saving the money on his own, and that his wife was not keen on the idea of saving and that he should just get back to me if he found the idea of saving pressing.

Harsh? I thought so too.

I mulled over my response for quite a while…until today.

Honesty Is The Right Policy

I realized now why I have such a reaction. It was because I care enough to be bothered. Care enough to know when someone has made bad decisions and will continue making them if no priorities are made. Wise enough to somehow predict the trajectory of someone’s financial climb. An uphill climb. And I guess, I am proud of the career in which I am in. The fact that I take his responses personally, shows just how much I hate people who give reasons or obstacles to their success.

I’ve Seen A Friend Died, Without a Financial Plan, All Because Something More Urgent Came Up

Friends sometimes detest my asking about their financial plans, to the point where sometimes I can dare say I no longer give a damn. Sometimes I just wish they understand the magnitude of their problems. That they are not Supermen. They die, and they will probably leave a wife, who will need the care of another man, who will make love, make kids and provide provisions and leadership for them, should the deceased husband fail to provide sustenance upon his death. But no. My friends care more about their cars, houses, overseas trips and fallacies. My friend who died had all the same dreams too. And he died leaving behind $113 for his single mother and three young siblings.

Apologies Do Not Feed Your Wife

Maybe I’ve insulted the good nature and well being of my friend and his spouse with my harsh reply. But, I can safely say that me being remorseful does not add a bit of goodwill on the shoulders of this young couple. I am so convinced of the value proposition in which I brought to his table, that I feel, not placing priority for it is a cardinal sin. By being nice and all obliging, I will shortchange my friends and all that I hold dear to me, the importance of a financial plan.

I definitely do not want to hold up my hand in remorse one day should the weeping wife come up to me and asked why I had not pressed her husband with the purchase of a plan.

My obligations are done.

As a friend, I’ve definitely brought you to the water’s edge. Whether you drink or not from it, is beyond me. You either die of thirst or you’ll enjoy a refreshing taste.

I am sorry for my actions, but I am definitely not regretting my intentions.

Honesty Is A Million Dollar Policy

Telling The Truth

I watched an interesting program earlier. It’s been on air for quite a while and I’ve not missed it so far. The show’s called“Moment of Truth”. It’s another sick, reality based game show where contestants are sat down to answer grueling questions. The key component of this game is that contestants have all been asked prior to the actual show, 50 questions, under the scrutiny of a polygraph / lie detector test. Out of this 50, a set will be chosen to be asked again on the game show, in front of the contestant’s loved ones. If their answers tally with what the polygraph had concluded, then they stand to win money. So the moral consensus of the game hinges on an individual’s desire to be as brutally honest, in his quest to win a million bucks, at the expense of hurting his / her loved ones.

Truth Hurts

Some of the questions posed, truly balanced from the absurd to the most insensitive. I mean, how sick can it be when you are asked,

• Will you cry if your mother died today?
• Have you ever had sex with a colleague at your office?
• Did you ever regret marrying your husband?
• Have you ever cheated on your wife?
• Was your Dad the caused of your failure in life?
• Do you find fat people repulsive?

…and a whole lot more.

And of course you can only say Yes or No.

I do not know why I am compelled to watch the show, but I definitely have to salute the b******s of a producing team, to have come up with an ingenious concept. The moral twist that is incorporated in such games border on cruelty, but definitely realistic nature that of human. I find it amazing that this group of modern Americans find it befitting to indulge in such entertainment. Cause I thought that the sequences over at WWE takes the cake, but obviously I am wrong. Americans are geniuses when it comes to concocting entertainment value in real life situations. Just look at the Bush administration.

It is also in my deepest hope that our Ministers of Parliament, sitting in the Government be cajoled into taking part in such game shows, for our viewing pleasure. Am sure we would love to ask,

• Did Mas Selamat really escape by jumping through a toilet window?
• Has the GIC lost more money in their investments than what was mentioned?
• Are HDBs really built for the local Singaporeans?
• Is the Prime Minister the most powerful man in Singapore?
• Is Ris Low really a Singaporean?
• Is the Government planning to make Singapore the China of South East Asia?
• Will the Government issue out another GST Credit scheme soon, to entice voters?
• Will the Government realign the GRCs again to ensure a major win again?
• Was banning the chewing gum really necessary?

…and a lot more questions regarding GIC.

I will love to be the host.

If you are put in the chair in front of your loved ones, and posed with personal and controversial questions, will you be truthful about it in order to stand a chance of winning a million dollars?

I would, only because a million dollars will make such truths for my loved ones more bearable. Just ask Tiger Woods and John Terry.

What Do You Want?

I guess it’s rather official now. I’ve pissed off the shit out of my prospect/friend whom I recalled in my previous post. Maybe I assumed too much, but guess the apology sms I send out a week ago did not suffice in soothing the fragile state of things. Even a reply of “Jaz, you are a piece of shit!” would have done well to allay me off my guilt. Haha. But then again, the world is so fair, that I believe I got what I deserved. Oh well, moving along. In a career where it helps to face a lot of rejections, I certainly did my case no harm. But then again, what a pity.

My manager shared with me about how I should make myself likable. By being an actor. By having a poker face. By being flexible in my approaches. The rationality behind it is rather obvious. People buy people. And at the same time, I also had a tinge of realization why my people, can easily be cheated. Because they buy people too much, that they forget to buy competency. But I guess there is no absolute wrong. It’s okay to buy people, because at least the pain will be worse if the person cheated you. Then you’ll wake up and realize your folly better.

You know what I just realized?

You will make better informed decisions if you want something so badly. When you are told that you need a financial planner / planning / plan, you tend to shut out that thinking membrane. When you are asked if you want more money, a bigger car, a more luxurious lifestyle or even that grander wedding, your big black pupils will just dilate. And you are lucky, if I do not catch you whimpering and salivating at the visions you self created.

Why?

Cause you are a wanting creature.

You do not need sex.

You want sex.

You do not need to eat Mcdonalds.

You want to eat that Big Mac.

You do not need an I Phone.

You want an I Phone.

Bottom line is.

If you want to scrap for cans and metals. If you want to whine at the lack of funds for a new laptop, your child’s education, your son’s new PSP, your spouse’s big holiday plans, your tiredness for working too hard and earning too little and a whole score of typical wants…you should continue what you are doing.

If you just want a simple no worries financial lifestyle, you might want to do something now.

What Babies Can Teach About Being Bold.

My son turns one this Thursday. My lil’ Jimmy Neutron. His progress through babyhood, has been astounding. Not from his perspective of course. But mine. I’m amazed at the wonders of curiosity coupled with a taste for adventure and perseverance. He has been a shining example on how you and I should approach life. By being curious. By being bold. By being persistent. By not recognizing criticism. By being appreciative of praises, claps and smiles. By being able to enjoy life with a toothless smile. That’s how we started life and how we should continue doing it.

Remembering How To Be Bold

People tend to forget how dynamic life can be when we are more adventurous with our approaches. I know I’ve lost out a lot in social interactions, because of my lack of boldness to break an ice with a staring human being. You and I probably forget the power of a smile. My Jimmy Neutron has got salesgirls scampering around their shops playing hide and seek, old aunties dancing and jiggling their  faces just to capture another impish smile and not forgetting the scores of people chatting him up with their guuguugaagaaa.

Being bold also includes the power of smiling in the face of criticisms and scoldings from anyone. I forgot the number of times, my Jimmy Neutron simply ignores my cries, shrieks and screams with a smile and off he goes to “destroy” another colony of folded clothes. He is so perseveringly bold that these days, I’ve given up on even whimpering at him to stop his acts. I simply let him wreck havoc on his colony, after which I will clean up after he’s satisfied with the utter destruction. Not before he leaves me with a lingering evil smile.

Being bold has also been about smacking my face or his mum’s in the early morning, to wake us with his chirpy “ummmmmmmm” noise. His boldness has never been replied with a scornful cry from the missus and I. In fact, it’s such a welcomed smack on our faces. Because we realize that our morning starts with a gleeful smile. For Jimmy Neutron, it’s just his way of saying “Good morning, Mum and Dad!” Unconventional but it works definitely.

So you see. Boldness has a place in our conformed state of living life.

Boldness does not always have to be equated with being rude, intrusive or aggressive.

My baby taught me that boldness enhances the quality of life. If only we remembered how we used to be bold.

The Normality Scam

The Industrial Job Bullshit

You get up in the morning. You drag yourself out of bed. You drag your feet to the toilet. You turn the knob for the shower and you close your eyes as the cold water runs through your hair down to your toes. You grab the towel and head back to your room. You grab the ironed clothes and put them on. You groom yourself a bit and off you go.

You trudged to the train station, and you find yourself bracing for yet another ride. The ride of discomfort, you mutter and swear silently. Along comes the MRT train, and you gasp in breathless horror as the doors and windows are smacked with the morning faces of commuters. You take a quick glance at your watch and sigh. “If I skip this train, I’ll be 20 minutes late to office. If I take this train, I am going to war.” With a slight curse, you engage the war.

Smells. Yawns. Bustles. Shoves. You are just another sardine in the can.

You walk through your office doors. Damn. Everybody’s in their work. Then you remembered that you will be having a “yet another important” meeting in the afternoon. You remembered that you forgot to read up the article your superior emailed the other day. Another subtle bashing time, you tell yourself anticipating.

Your day ends exactly at the time your contract had stipulated. 1700 hours. You rush out in hope of catching the not so full train. And you discovered that everyone else had the same idea. So there you are, all smacked up like sardines again on that 45 minutes ride home.

Smells. Yawns. Bustles. Shoves. You are just another sardine in the can.

You get home. You throw your clothes on the bed and grab your towel. You head straight to the shower room. You turn the knob, close your eyes and let the water runs its course. You exit yourself out of the shower room and drag yourself back to your room. After grooming yourself, you plonk yourself back into your bed.

Not to sleep. But to mentally prepare yourself to repeat the whole cycle tomorrow morning.

You Are Part Of A System

The truth is, you have been educated to be part of a social system. And you, and I are living a life of scam. We are scamming ourselves into believing that this is how our life should run its course. Okay, so I am being an idealist by stating that we may have  a choice to change the status quo. Do you believe that you have a choice? Or wanting to believe is not even a feasible choice to ponder about.

The Girls At Coffeebean

I saw a group of working adults. Women to be exact. At 2 pm in the afternoon, enjoying salads and cups of coffee. In town. Wearing elegant and nice clothes. You may have caught this tribe of individuals too. The living life at large sort of people. Have you ever wondered to yourself,”Just what the hell do these people do for a living?” I did. I mean, it’s not really atypical to enjoy the company of sexy women at noon, on a weekday. But these women brought me to the thought. “Why can’t my boys and I do the same?”

Idiots Flock Together, Geniuses Stand In The Corner

Here’s a fact. People do not want to work. People need to work. And that includes you and me. We need to work. And we have been told over the course of years that if you want to enjoy life, you need to work. Did anyone ever told you that if you need to enjoy life,you should want to work. Sounds idiotic. Maybe. But here’s my case. What if you framed your mind in such a way that you want to work, because you need to enjoy life. You want to trade 8 hours of your life to earn the money, so that you can enjoy the rest of the 16 hours. Meaning that you want to work, so that you do not need to anymore.

Is there any way you can balance the wants of enjoyment, with the needs of labor?

Maybe.

But with only one currency, in time, being the trade off, there is sure to be a big bargain or discount in place.

Perhaps it’s time, we make time for the premiums in life.

Why Financial Planners Must Facebook

If you are a financial planner, you must read this. Here’s what I think. You must use Facebook. You must leverage on your Facebook profile. You must, cause it’s not an option. It’s not even a thought. You just have to.

Desperate People. Desperate Measures.

I got a shock of my life when I was opening up my mail today. Just above my head was a pasted advertisement on the wall. It was an ad, asking me, to visit a financial planner’s website. A financial planner pasting a paper ad on a residential block? What the fish!

My curiosity got the better of me, and I immediately checked the website upon reaching home. It was a good website filled with good info. Not flashy. Not really attractive. But filled with relevant resources and information. Then it dawned on me. I bought that marketing strategy. As archaic and ancient the whole wall pasting was, it was effective.

Was it new? No.

Was it effective? Yes.

Will it generate results for him? Probably.

Will he get exposure? Definitely.

One in a Zillion.

You can probably guess what I am driving at. All forms of marketing works. At least even if it’s to segmented group of people. People like you and me. That is what advertisement is great at. Sending you the subtle message behind the obvious.

How then would you, a financial planner, differentiate yourself from the 14,000 other planners breathing sales, daily? I do not know. But I do know one thing. Constant exposure, creates familiarity. Familiarity is good in sales. It creates comfort. People are less resistant when they are comfortable with you.

Build the Brand. Market the Message.

Many of the planners roaming the streets of Singapore have one great thing in their arsenal of persuasion. They have a system. It’s called the sales system. In this sales system, which usually starts with prospecting and ending with closing, a planner, even a mediocre one, will probably survive the first three years of his career. The problem, however is that, all financial planners, even though from different companies, carry the same weapon. A sales system, albeit different names. Some call it, Financial Healthcheck. Others call it Planning Right. And other exotic named process. But it’s basically all the same. It’s designed to lead you in and out of a sales process. Question is, so what’s new? If you are a planner, you will find yourself being trained by your training department, in becoming a generic advisor. It’s not that bad, if you want to lead yourself down the path of normality. Normality sometimes is mediocre.

What if one day, someone, smart enough just comes up with a system, where a sales process is redundant. When you do not need to establish any needs, because prospects have become so affluent, to know just what they want. What if, the whole process becomes such a chore? What if Facebook just decides to be the salesperson/middle person bringing you financial advices/prospectus/recommendations/solutions right to your desktop. What if you, as a savvy and affluent consumer just suddenly have the option of typing your wants and needs, amounts and budgets, and you are offered a whole range of products for you to review and analyse on your own. And all financial institutions leverage on this platform. What if selling is no longer such a need, when buying options is so prevalent? Where will you be as a planner?

Facebook. A Branding Revolution or Evolution

I must admit that I’m still trying to find a balance in using this social medium as a leverage. To balance between the social, personal and business aspects in my life. I do know one thing though, and I guess you probably too. Facebook has and will continue to change the way we interact. As Seth Godin likes to mention, that these days, it’s all about “permission marketing”. An entity that is familiar to another, has more chances of converting their opportunities into something concrete. My guess is that there are people who are already famous and successful without a Facebook presence. Then again, a soft intuition in my head says that, if I utilize Facebook effectively, I can be more successful. And in shorter time. But like I said. The balance is needed.

Like all things, the key towards building relationships is trust. A financial planner that exudes confidence, honesty and loyalty in their online profiles are more likely to be attractive. People trusts what they see online and in news. That’s why, newspapers are still around. Facebook is very much an amplifier, if utilized effectively.

I foresee a day when I will probably, do my consultations with clients over Skype, MSN and even Facebook. Impersonal you say? I beg to differ. People want accessibility. Facebook provides that. To all my clients at that very same time.

Now if you feel that you need a very social media savvy planner, why don’t you Facebook me?

The Miracles Of Small Charity

Remembering Miracles

I have to note this down, as a reminder that should one day I am blessed with bountiful provisions, there is a cause. Last Friday, as I was on my way to office, I was dead stopped in my tracks, as I reached the platform of my train station at Admiralty. A middle aged Malay woman approached me, and asked if I was a Malay guy, by which I nodded. She then proceeded to narrate to me her plight.

• Just recently divorced by her husband.
• In need of urgent cash to buy milk powder and diapers for her 1 year old daughter.

I am not the sort who buys into sob stories especially if it’s from within the community. But I told her that I did not have enough cash with me (which was honestly true as I’ve yet to withdraw any). She looked at me with that helpless look. She then gave an alternative, and that was for me to transfer to her account. I gamely took out my diary and offered her a pen by which she wrote down her name, mobile number and account number. At that very instant, there was this passing thought that, no way am I gonna do anything about the transfer. I mean, out of the blue? And she had asked for either 20 or 30 bucks, citing that it was cheaper to buy at Sheng Shiong as she was headed that way. As I kept the diary back in my bag, I thought to myself at just how desperate she must have been. Asking me to do a funds transfer?

So I gently asked her directions, and she mentioned that she was stopping at Yishun. Noting that I told her that it was then best that I alight at the same station with her, and I will personally buy the items she mentioned. She just nodded in agreement but insisted that it was cheaper to get it from Sheng Shiong. We boarded the coming train, and whilst in it, I took the time to quiz her.

Apparently, she was just divorced from her husband unknowingly. She was now residing up at Marsiling with her mum. (she even told me her block no). I asked about her family dynamics, and she told me to the extend of showing me the kept pictures of her three young daughters in her mobile. She pointed to a slight bulge by her tummy, and told me that she had a cancerous growth there that needed removal and she was just awaiting the appointment date. In short, she was indeed living a shitty life for the moment.

To cut the long story short, we alighted over at Yishun, and I proceeded to the nearest ATM and withdrew a sum of money and handed it to her. I forgot what I mumbled, but it was along the line that she need not worry about paying it back. And I made an intent in my heart then, that it was to be a form of charity. And I left her there smiling.

The significance of this whole episode did not really dawn on me until late yesterday morning, as I was ironing my clothes. Just two days after that incident, an acquaintance of mine had inquired me with regards to some financial suggestions. The appointment which was set just about two days ago, proved to be productive and fruitful and insya Allah, I shall be concluding a workable plan for his family. As I pondered about the projected remuneration I will be receiving, it’s almost 200% of what I had given the lady in plight.

There Is NO Such Thing As LUCK

You may call it as coincidental or the luck factor, but I call it the Law of Cause and Effect. It’s like just what was mentioned in the Quran about, that when you give in intentional charity, Allah will reciprocate and give it back in many folds. It’s like what Allah mentions about, everyone having a portion of their provisions coming from unknown sources. For the lady, her provisions and sustenance for that day, came through me. And for mine, it came through the intervention of my acquaintance who thought of me. And Allah subtly arranged for all these unseen networks to be strung together through threads of compassions. Subbhanallah.

This was not the first time I’ve been in such situations. Way back in 2005, I still remember that spine chilling experience when after my Friday prayers, a lady approached asking for alms. I had no change in my wallet, save a $10 note. Without thinking I just gave it to her, knowing that I can well draw some cash later. I got back to office, and that very moment my bum touched my seat, I received a phone call on my desk phone from someone. That someone turned out to be a referred prospect who decided to invest with me. The commission that I earned from that chanced and definitely unknown transaction was in excess of $1K. Subbhanallah.

So, you see, charity does work in mysterious ways. Definitely beyond comprehension. If someone was ever to ask me one principle with regards to wealth building, I’ll definitely give him this as a takeaway.

“Give with the intent of charity to those in need, and leave your provisions to Allah.”

The Faceless Muslim

This entry will perhaps carry a bit of heavy religious connotation. So my disclaimer, is just that this is a personal reflection and observation and not intended to be the alpha and omega of my thoughts process. I’ve been vilified before for commenting on my own people. Yes, the same Malay blood that runs through my blood for the past few eons. I still get bemused sometimes when I’m queried with the probing issues of, “Jaz, why criticize? Do something.” or “Jaz, it’s easy to be one the fence and criticize the weeds.” or “Jaz, be part of the solution. You are not helping, by only stating the problems.” And to all that, I hold my hands up high in amused guilt. Part of me enjoys being a social commentator. Part of me laments being a critical observer.

Anyway, I’m noting this down because I’ve been thinking about it.

Where Are the Lights?

The other day, I passed by that spanking new mosque up at Sengkang. The mosque named Mawaadah. It was late at night, and I was just being driven past by, with the company of my brother in law. I instantly made the remark, that for such a new masjid, it looked kinda isolated and derelict. It was located on a recluse area surrounded by open fields. It was decked in brown paint. It does not carry the traditional and very typical design of a mosque (without the kubah). And worse of all, in the darkness of the night, by the sparing road lights, it appeared very haunted. Why? Because it was not bathed in a semblance of life and light.

It’s horrifying why the House of Allah, should look so distant and cold. I commented to my brother in law, that over in Woodlands, there was a huge and gorgeous church. What made it kinda “holy” , was the small fact that they had a big cross framed in front of the building. It’s huge. Huge huge. The church was white in color. The cross was huge and white in color too. And at night, bright spotlights shower the cross with “resplendent holiness”. It kinda enhances that appeal factor of the church being a place of solace and comfort. In comparison, Mawaadah looks like Alcatraz and the church, the White House.

It beats me why our local mosques are like community centers. The type that opens during fajr prayers and closes after isya’. Some local mosques, in their efforts to integrate into mainstream acceptance, even has sewing classes, aerobics classes and silat classes. Call me cynical, but how did a holy place suddenly disintegrated into being a center for Malay Muslims integration and bonding clubhouse?

I’m a tad disappointed actually, with the state by which the mosques have been structured to run its operations. I know, cause I’ve been to them and found the whole affair as a ridiculous spectacle. Still remember a particular mosque I went to. In trying to meet the so called CEO of the mosque committee, I was led through two entry pass enabled doors. Hello? It’s a mosque. Not a Wall Street’s executive’s office. I miss the feeling of accessibility. Granted, that office staffs may need their due spaces and privacy, due to confidential materials and so forth, but making it secure with panels and glass doors, just reeks of incompetent, arrogant and self delusional importance.

The mismanagement of a mosque’s actual purpose and dynamics is appalling. It’s sick actually.

We are the only faith that has a Harmony Center dedicated, to the purpose of racial and religious understanding and integration. Perhaps the big wigs sitting at MUIS, is thinking that by placing nice Photoshop-ed visual panels, illustrating Islam, with a guided tour as part of it’s itinerary is effective daawah in place. We organize buffets, luncheons and dinners with other faiths, so that people will understand? Understand that Malays pray 5 times daily? Understand that Malays fast in Ramadhan? Understand that Malays pays Zakaat? Understand that Malays denounce terrorism? Pathetic isn’t it? This are knowledge which doe not require a dedicated center. These are Google-able knowledge.

With the Maulid fever mania in season, I’m not surprised if the call for charity giving is yet again rallied. A majority of the community is so into Maulid. Instead of making my point across, that there is no basis for such a celebration, (contentions of bidáah), I am amused that suddenly, it’s almost the ‘in thing’ to be going to mosques to celebrate the Maulid. It’s insane. Where’s the priorities in deeds?

Between the congregational prayers and reciting poems (the Qasidh burdah), people are more inclined for the latter. One is ordained, whilst the other lacks basis. People choose the more enjoyable one.

The community lacks a Muslim leadership. We are led by a conglomerate of Malays, with a Muslim tagging. That’s why we are called Malay Muslims, instead of the other way round. We don’t have Chinese Christians or Indian Christians. We have Christians. But we Malay Muslims need specifics. We prefixed Malay to the faith. Which is counter productive, as the search for identity rages on. Kids may just grow up wondering. Am I a Malay first, then Muslim? Or Muslim first, then Malay.

Why Malays Cannot Be Muslim Leaders

Malay Muslims here, which includes me, are faceless. Our leaders are at best representational in their capacities. And leaders are not contained only within the scopes of MPs and NMPs, but across the boards of NGOs, schools, corporations and etc. We seem to be a community in plight, amidst that occasional reports of minute improvements. We tweet about almost always the same issues, predicaments and strifes. We status-fied ourselves into folklore, as the perennial tribe of “what could have been”. 9 years down the road, and still we try to identify ourselves as a docile and dormant community, that carries the banner of “rahmatan lil alamin”. Our part in the context of metropolitanising the country, is as ambassadors of interactive and good will faith exchanges. We are famous for our Hari Rayas, fasting month, Zakaats,weddings and other big, non decisive matters. And yes, such basic knowledge is imperatively important, because a bakery shop needs to put the “No Pork. No Lard.” sign-age Yes, being a faceless Malay Muslim here is all about asking for the “Halal” logo at eateries.

Sometimes, it sucks being faceless. Especially, when you cannot recognize your own face.

A Birthday Prayer

Turning 29 is not really ground shattering. I still do not have my own car. Am still living with my parents. And yes, I am not really that retired. In fact, I am still on the path of self discovery.

But, celebrating 29 with a one year old son and a beautiful wife has been a blessing. Cause put me in another scenario, I am most likely to be in the company of liquor and women. And yes, that’s how low my iman can be at times. And I’m not being a righteous hypocrite by saying that I would not.

The beauty of my birthday this year, was rushing back home from a long day at a roadshow, just because I missed my son so much. Holding him in my arms and kissing those rosy cheeks was the greatest birthday present I could have given myself and for which I am ever thankful, to my wife for giving birth to him. The wonder of my birthday was about receiving text messages from important people like Kai. Facebook messages from pals and colleagues. It illuminates my memory lanes with that thought that I still have much to appreciate.

Birthdays are paradoxical. It remembers your coming into this world yet it pushes one, to yet another landmark towards an end.

At 29 years of age, I should be much closer to God. So much closer. Yet, I’ve not been faithfully messaging or calling Him.

At 29 years of age, I worry that He may have forgotten about me.

At 29 years of age, I worry that He will not invite me to his home again.

At 29 years of age, I worry that He will not worry about me anymore.

Sometimes I still have my birthday wishes playing inside my head…

I wanna be a Muezzin calling out to prayers in a mosque.

I wanna be an Imam leading a congregational prayer.

I wanna be a Daee’ propagating His message.

I wanna be a Mujahid defending His honor.

Ans sometimes just wondering if syahid is too much to ask for…

Nevertheless, I have good thoughts of Him. For He knows my birthday wishes every single year.

*smiles*

What Is Your Update Of The Day?

What Should I Update

You probably have done this. Stare at that blank “status updates” box on your Facebook profile, and ponder. Ponder about what could be the next best thing to put in there. And you probably also have this small little voice, whispering, “I hope that when I publish this status update, someone or anyone will like it or comment on it.” Do you do that? You don’t? Wow. You must be one of those exceptionally few people who absolutely do not give a darn care about who’s the President of North Korea.

I love reading status updates of friends. It gives me a glimpse on their states of mind on that particular day. And eventually, you will realize that as you read someone’s updates quite frequently, you’ll be able to identify his/her style. Give yourself a little bit more exposure, and you will also get to know this person on a more intimate level. Meaning his/her personality.

The Personally Published Tribe

Am sure you have scores of examples to cite, and I definitely have a few. One of the more amusing ones, in my network, includes updates detailing her “naughty nights” with her spouse, her children’s meals for the day, her cravings and so forth. I found it amusing because she puts in those details in a movie, script like manner which includes specific dialogues. And the amazing thing is that, as much as I found her updates to be too eerily personal for comfort, she has a legion of faithful  followers who will like and comment on her updates. She has her own tribe. And in terms of social dynamics are concerned, her tribes are almost in the same demographics and psycho-graphics as her. Talk about a herd. But it works for her.

The Guru Tribe

Then there are the self help aficionado tribe. Individuals who will fill that rectangle of a box with insightful and purposeful quotes. Perhaps it is out of self affirmations or just plain generic purposes. I do find this lot quite helpful to have in your updates network, only because they are my resources of great inspirations. You may have this lot of friends also in your network. Do not hide their updates. You’ll never know when you might just need their interventions.

The Random Updates Tribe

And then you may find the obnoxiously crazy and wacky type of updates. The ones that include the racy joke of the day, the ones about their mother in laws, the rants about their colleagues and bosses and that atypical clueless syndrome of random observations. You may have posted one yourself. I definitely had. What’s creatively unique about this tribe is the fact that they have such random agendas, it pays to read their motivations at times.

The Emo Tribe

This lot takes a lot of your time. The self beating, world is coming to an end, no one loves me and only my mother can cuddle me type. Sometimes, we do like reading their updates because we like to be a part time counselor. And yes we like to give our expert views on how this tribe should lead their camps. But the thing is, it can be time absorbing. Especially if we see no realms of improvements from this tribe. I like to leave this lot alone to their emotional bruisings. It’s more enjoyable being an observer at times. Most times.

Just Updating

No matter who you are, as an updater ( is there such an occupation?), originality need not always be in form of the best updates. I believe the quirkier and more honest you are with your views, the better. Sometimes being controversial, is definitely light years away better than that random,”Am at home, watching television with the wife and kid.” Truth is, nobody really cares, even if you are lying dead in a coffin beside Pamela Anderson. Unless you are Pamela Anderson, of course. The buzz word for updates will probably be about, if whether people can form an opinion around your updates. If they do, good for you. If they don’t, why should it bother you anyway?

And yes, stay updated with my updates. I need your opinions.

Just Another Fish In The Ocean

I’ve always wondered as to how long I will ever last in this career of mine, as a financial planner. One thing I can definitely guarantee and promise my clients is that, not forever. As I get through my days, weeks, months and years of being in a career that sips my emotions and endurance, I can safely say that I will know when to quit.

My intention of planning my ‘dip’ is basically to install within that sense of perspective, that nothing lasts forever. Not many understand and appreciate the myths and facts behind the career of a financial planner. I have been bombarded by so many notions and perspectives on the merits of being a Malay Muslim financial planner, that I can so bet, that 99% of the Malay planners in Singapore think that they are the one in a million. To a certain extent, yes, it’s true that they are indeed the only ones around. But in terms of unique value, I beg to differ.

I do not intend to quit anytime soon, should any of my clients reading this, starts to ponder. Am just saying that, I will be meeting all my obligations as a consultant, and that’s my promise. But after I meet my obligations, it is then my obligation to start living out my life.

Most Malay Muslim financial planners propagate the same “unique selling proposition”,

• Competent with Islamic Inheritance/Islamic planning
• Knows a thing or two about Zakaat planning
• Knows a thing or two about Takaful planning
• Knows a thing or two about the demerits of usury
• Knows a thing or two about loans, debts and its implications
• Proposes donations and charities
• etc…

and just to back some of the aforementioned items above, copies of the Quran’s translations and Hadiths are attached, pertained as relevant and useful to the subject matters discussed.

You know what irks me at times?

Being told that my career holds the equivalence of being an economic daee’. Hmmmm…

I used to buy the idea and concept of preaching fundamentals of economics and finances to prospects. But when the small market of Malay Muslims in Singapore is saturated with the influx of “half boiled” planners like myself, preaching a holier than thou concept of financial planning, my neck’s been kinda stuffy.

So what exactly should my role be?

Counting Numbers

There is really nothing exciting about figures. Numbers to be exact. Unless, it’s a couple of zeros in your bank account. (6 will be fine)

I am having a meeting tomorrow morning and my sales manager has just sent me via email, a couple of worksheets to be printed as handouts for the meeting. Obviously there are charts and numbers, ranking each personal producer according to their produced numbers.

But I am not excited.

I hate numbers. I’m poor with Mathematics. I’m poor with ratios, percentages and all sorts of algorithms.

Yet, sales jobs are numerically legalized. People are allowed to be interpreted as numbers. When I close 300 sales in a year, I recognize you as one of my 300 very unique and special individual/client. To my colleagues, sales managers and the company I am representing, you are just another number/sale in their database. Yet to you, I could be the only person you’ve ever trusted.

It’s never easy to break out of this paradigm. Because it’s been working. People are lauded for their abilities to put numbers on a screen. Yes, most do it within the professional capacities of the salesperson. But who really cares, if the numbers keep on rising right?

Sales job is an “inter-action”. I enjoy being a salesperson, in the capacity of a financial planner. I just hate the fact that I am just another planner on the company’s roster and just another planner in the agency. In the company’s strength of 900, I am an additional one digit to the 899 others.

You should also hate the fact that you are just another number in a salesperson’s database.

But that’s just the way it is, right? Why whine if it’s a working system they say.

It’s A Kid’s World

Kids

People do not really care how you became successful. Or how you will become successful. Bottom line is, we are perhaps adopting the Machiavellian method of the ends justifying the means. That may explain at times why, numbers are very important in the sales industry. Who cares about how the numbers appear.

Creativity can be stifled when one has to work harder, faster and smarter in a system where credentials of numbers are very much highlighted. If a sales manager mentions that numbers are very important, he is right. And that is only because, his superiors told him so. And so did the superiors of his superiors. Leonardo Da Vinci had superiors, and his masterpieces were judged on the intricacies and time consuming nature of his process. The definition of his art was in the time taken to craft such a masterpiece. In a financial career, what is the masterpiece? I’m being led to believe that it is about the highest premium an unsuspecting bloke can afford.

In an alternate world, premiums in value should be placed on the individuals who bring the greatest sense of gratification to others. One that appreciates the value of process and creativity. Although the world has forced us to cower into the corner of mediocre submission, we should still rebel periodically to achieve, alternate success.

As a kid, you were never asked about just how much you had in your piggy bank, or what type of mattress you slept on. People were interested in your efforts at discovering new things about the world. Even adults appreciated that inquisitive nature of yours. When you began discovering that a tree could be made into a hiding place, everyone tried to help you better understand it. When you began discovering that life was about crayons and toys, people wanted to splurge on you. Then you grew older, and people started expecting that your life fits a mold. A mold that relies on education type, financial size and moral behaviors. And you had to conform.

Kids enjoy the better part of your life.

Random April Whines

I was at the bus stop this afternoon. Right in front of ION, awaiting for service number 65 or 14, to ferry me to the office building. A black Maserati drove past, with a woman at the helm. I chuckled to myself, just trying to figure out how lucky that lady was. Thought to myself at just how much I will probably have to slog just to purchase the rims of the wheels.

Something caught my fickle attention this evening when I saw a book over at Popular bookstore. It was a book that had the word “passion” in the title. It kinda aroused that curious fragments of my consciousness, cause it’s been quite a while since I last got acquainted with the word. And I began questioning my sanity. Cause I’m no longer passionate about the things I should be. Or I think I am not, at least.

Being a Malay financial planner has been a test of my resolve, sanity and just plain patience. Cause on that occasions, when you have totally ridiculous prospects or clients, you just feel that it really ain’t worth the trouble. I mean, there are basically two types of clients/prospects for the Malay market. The affluent ones, who are too few and far. And the other end of the spectrum, whom I will easily term as the “Financially Challenged”. Their impairment can only be saved by the great Graces of God Himself. Examples are aplenty, and I just cannot be bothered to really randomly describe them. But anyone who furnishes his bike, house, car and any other things as priorities over his own health, is an idiot. A big idiot. I am as entitled to this opinion, as they are towards financial planners, being irritatingly persuasive to them. Hah.

However on the other end of the happy note, I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to serve and learn from families and individuals who had gone through that curve of learning their financial quotient, and are at least prudently savvy enough to act out of their own onuses, rather than take that whimsical path of asking parent’s blessings. It’s this few people that makes this career of mine meaningful in its own right.

Back to the issues of passion, I realize just how much this passion thing has been diluted in my career. I now realize with fervent delight that financial planning is in itself a career, that serves to heighten my interests, and not necessarily my passion. My passion is in interactions, but not necessarily through the monetary sales transactions, required of the career. Which is a bit unfortunate in my case, cause I do have to earn my keep. But, seriously, the sales component happens to be the part that dilutes my passion.

Oh well. Such is the system of things. You go against the tide, you drown. You ride with the tide, it’ll bring you to where it wants.

I’m ranting nonsense, but it’s just a bid to get me started on being inspired to blog. Heh.

The Blind Busker

Outside the station of either Admiralty or Sembawang, there will usually sit a blind Malay man, playing the keyboard whilst singing. By definition he’s a blind busker. The wife and I, will almost always never fail to just put in that $2 note into his box. And we both agree, that we are not doing it out of sympathy. We appreciated the quality of his voice. Melodious and soothing, especially when he gives a flawless rendition of “This I Promise You” by N Sync.

That Blinding Truth

He has more often than not, brought a surreal sense of peace and appreciation about life, in my perspective. As much as it may sound idealistically ridiculous, I will gladly trade my life with his. The often coined remark that God is fair, can never be further than the truth whenever I look at him. For the absence of sight, God blessed him with the gift of a beautiful voice, designed to cheer and sadden the emotions of those listening him. I shudder to think of the difference he may have made, to weary train commuters, listening to his voice. I forgot the number of times, his renditions of beautiful songs just threw me back, blasting into the past.

He has a passion for music, in which he made into a livelihood. I admire that. I’ve seen his family, children and wife, helping him move from point to point. And I choke with regrets about how I’m living my life. Seeing how despite limitations, he still is blessed with a family, a means of earning and the almost divine gift of making a difference in people’s life.

In my opinion, we are sometimes just crippled and disabled with our normality, to really see the flip side of life. An alternate universe, where we could ask, “What if I did not have…?”. As a community, we are still lauding success as the equivalent of either being a Suria artiste or just plain wealthy. We still connote normality with lavish weddings and expensive expenditures. In this reality, disability is resigned to that scope of sitting in a chair, singing.

What Could Have Been?

Kai mentioned to me the other day, that perhaps my self professed loss of passion was right. And I agree. I gripe too much and I whine too much these days. To the ultra successful, I am seen as just another individual not realizing a potential. To the ultra normal people, I could be seen as a contradiction to the idea that normal people should live normal life.

I was clearing some stuffs from my cupboard yesterday, and copies of my cartoons from my days of being a cartoonist was strewn all over the floor. The wife picked it up and asked me, rather poignantly, “Why didn’t you pursue being a cartoonist? You could have been a Pixar or Disney animator. Or doing animations now? That used to be your passion right?” I dejectedly kept quiet. She’s right. In that realm of possibilities, I could have been such. But then I settled for the best paying job, with the so called best challenges and prospects and the rest is history. Someway or somehow, the normality virus got into me, making me fearful of possibilities. I told myself that cartooning had no prospects. Doing workshops had no future. Being a speaker paid little. And so many other “doomsday” prophecies. And what happens? At the age of nearing 30, I tell myself that I could have been so many things, but I settled for a normal career that provides a normal process of work.

I am telling myself now, that I have a disability. And I will have to make time, to discover a different facet of myself to accentuate and magnify, to be able to live out a more fulfilling life. I am not gonna let the repetitive cycle of expectations bog me down. I want to be the blind man, who can light up that flicker of hope in your life. I want to be that singing voice, that will just soothe your weariness away. I want to be the blind busker, who chooses songs that rejuvenates romance and love. I want to be that peaceful man, who does not worry about who puts in how much in that small box of mine. I just want to sing my hearts out, doing what I love doing.

It’s not really that difficult. I just have to blind myself to the world, and start seeing me inside…

Peace With A Purpose

My mum said something quite extraordinary this morning, when I showed my wife, the centerfold of yesterday’s Straits Times. Well, it showcased the award winners for the year 2009, for those in Manulife. (my company by the way). There were of course pictures of my over achievers colleagues and unit manager. Anyhow, that was not the point. The point was, my mum said, “Don’t worry lah, next year your face (me) will be there.” Coming from my mum, it felt satisfying. Because she never really and truly endeared to this career of mine, even though I’ve been doing it for the past 6 years.

Chasing The Impossible Dream

When I was just a bit younger in primary school, whenever anyone asked me what my ambition was, I always said the same thing. “A Scientist.” For 4 years or so, from Primary One to Four, I had the same ambition. Then in Primary Five, when I was streamed into an EM2 cohort, that ambition slowly eroded. The fact that my Science received a Band 2, meant that I was not really that great in Science. So yeah, I compromised on that dream and just tried to excel in that cohort. When PSLE came around, and I missed my number one choice school by 10 marks and my second choice by 1 mark, I was very sure, that I was at best just a normal student. All that expectations and dreams, my primary school teachers pinned on me seemed dashed.  Somehow, the pattern continued on, with regards to my academic achievements. Nothing superlative, but rather normal accomplishments.

Sometimes, I amuse myself by the thoughts of why I did not continue pursuing my studies. I was too carefree a soul to think about maybe holding a diploma or a degree. I looked in silent envy at peers and friends who had a higher level of education, yet it did not compel me to act. I was happier lapping up life, through practicality. Knowledge derived from stupidity, failures, experimentations and just sheer chance. I took up my diploma in psychology and left it there with only two modules to complete. What  a joke. Am just too much of a wanderer I guess.

How Will I Live My Life Out (Again)?

The same way. But with greater emotional tenacity. Upon reflection, if I had amassed the level of emotional maturity, I have now, Life would have been easier. The entanglement of emotions is so messy at times, that it really takes a lot out of you. Like a bad investment gone wrong, the repercussions of building back your portfolios can be exhausting.

(My) Secret Code for Success

This is rather stupid and obvious, but my code for success actually lies in only one facet of myself. My spiritual self. Let’s just put it this way. I am so far away from being spiritually attached to God, that I think at times, I am so invisible. I am seriously the sort, who wakes up and say my blessings, cause I have this paranoia of dying in my sleep. I am also the sort who self talks to myself, literally. And I so know that the root of my incompetencies and lack of accomplishments is due to my inability to break from this shell of spiritual mediocrity.

God + Me

In a rather achievable ideal life, I will really love to be doing this,

1. Wake up at 4 to do my tahajjud. Read the Quran whilst waiting for Subuh prayers. Pray Subuh. Have light breakfast, and go for a jog. Come back from jogging, and have full breakfast. Have my shower. Iron my clothes. Log onto my email and plan my day out/surf the Net. Watch Channel News Asia and read the newspaper.

2. Off to office at 8. Stop at mosque and do my dhuha prayers. Reach office and clear pending paperwork and prepare paperwork for the day. Have lunch at around 12. Proceed to the mosque for congregational Dzuhur prayers. Leave office for appointments. Appointments till evening. Proceed to the mosque for congregational Asar prayers. Makes way for office to clear the day.

3. Leaves office at 6.30. Proceed to the mosque for congregational Maghrib prayers. Sets home. Reaches home. Have dinner with family. Prays Isha’. Quality time with family. Do a bit of reading. Prays two rakaat sunnah prayers and sleeps.

4. Do this everyday.

The point is this. I should be doing all of this. In a disciplined manner. I can only attribute my lack of accomplishments in life to the basic fact that I am so nowhere even 20% of doing what I had listed above. Sad, and true. So how?

I do not have a peaceful mind. Can you imagine just what I will work for, just to achieve a peace of mind? The tranquility, clarity and serenity of a peaceful heart that is focused an in tuned with his surroundings. Sadly, the last I experienced such a surreal feeling was in 1998, in Mecca. Ever since then, I have been besieged by avalanches of doubts, fear, uncertainty and all that “buzz”.

I told my secretary the other day, that I do not look forward to going to office at times, because of the lack of “ukhwaah”. I must be kidding myself, I thought to myself. What kinda expectations was that? But that’s me. I’m synonymous with vibes. Great vibes make things purposeful.

Now, I have to find my peace in my salah. Even then, it’s difficult. I feel so far from my Creator. It’s like He no longer listens to my whisperings.

This is my Code of Success;

“Surely in Allah’s remembrance do the hearts find peace.” (13:28)

I just need to make sure, I apply it. Always.

Canning That Malay Can Thinking

The Branch (Agency) meeting yesterday was a mash of awards, recognitions and performance review presentations. There was a videographer and photographer in tow to capture the essence of the meeting.  It was in essential a meeting to celebrate the achievements that my unit had garnered in the year 2009, where the unit managed to clinch Top Unit, Top Financial Planner and Top New Financial Planner awards. It was, as in my manager’s words, a “show stopping” Gala night, for the awards presentation.

The whole affair of the Gala night was captured in still pictures, outlined nicely in Powerpoint slides. It was seamlessly featured with that dose of clichéd motivational songs like Celine Dion’s and Mariah Carey’s. It was an eye opener, seeing how award candidates were lined up and basked up like celebrities in the Oscars. As cars lined up, girls by the hand and everybody toasting you up to the podium.It was a “success” filled awards presentation. Where successful “businessmen” bask in each other’s company,patting each other’s back, in a “capitalistic corporate achievement” setting.

The manager mentioned that it was a historic achievement considering that no Malay agency had ever achieved such an unprecedented amount of awards. I agree with the notion of a history in the making, but that Malay connotation kinda brought a tingle. When we lined up for pictures and the photographer asked us to shout,”Malays Can!”, it broke the camel’s back.

What’s Up With The Malay Can?

It’s cute when we pitch ourselves to be constrained by this Malays Can slogan. It somehow denotes that, “If they can,we can” mantra, which subtly signifies,”I’m a follower,you do it and I will also show that I can too.” Maybe,it’s just me. But it kinda resonates with that campaign, our neighboring Malaysians had attested to for years. Malays Can do what exactly?

My mum, was making a side remark when she read the report of our unit’s achievements in the newspaper today. Her remarks seemed prophetic in a way. “How come you guys are getting so much exposure in a year? It’s almost like always.” Ï casually remarked that it was the cheapest publicity that we could have afforded. The honest truth is, after reading the headlines, I thought to myself…now what does this really mean?

Mission Statement

People who do not know me better might presume that this is a sour post intended to pour cold water on my agency’s achievements. At the other end of the spectrum however, this achievement puts me in the frame of reflection. Reflection because, I do not know why it does not excite me. The success that is. Am not taking away anything though from the success of my colleagues who had indeed worked their socks off to respectively deserve their accolades. It’s the bigger picture I am observing.

In a community such as ours, where people are more inclined to send in $50 worth of SMS to vote for their next Anugerah Skrin candidates, it is hard to see how, the “historic success” that my agency has garnered, had made a ripple in the community. Taking factual representations into account, it is actually a collection of say 200 individuals/clients who combined to put in $500,000 into their financial planning with my agency. The collective effort of the agency managed this, with some major contributions from the award winners.

So, in theory, that leaves us with another 580,000 Malay individuals out there who know nuts about our work and our mission.

The ridiculous theory behind this is that, this success is being lauded.

Consolation Prize

The consolation behind this experience of being a part of a successful agency, is the fact that I’ve managed to focus my thoughts on what I want as a successful career in this industry. It does not entail the accolades, rankings, being associated with the numero uno and the so forth. Am not gonna try and hop into that,”Malays Can” bandwagon. Am not gonna even try to fake myself into making it.

I like the vision of being relaxed. Of experiencing life as it is,with all the failure and successes mashed into one story. I love the notion of being “an experimental individual who is still struggling to realize his potential”. I just happen to like that seafarer type of life.

Here’s a story I will like to share. It’s a story that describes how Life could be, for simple mortals like us.

I Hate Sales Pitches

I love sales. I hate sales pitches. Sales pitches are developed by the learning department and marketing department of an organization,to make it a standard “weapon” for sales reps. Sales pitches tend to assume that prospects can be “stupidified” into buying a product. What happened to real conversations,where there is a genuine exchange of options?

Sales pitches are easy to learn and be implemented on the masses. The rule of thumb for sales rep is to usually pitch to you, and then shut up. Cause the Golden Rule is, whoever speaks first, loses. I like to use my Golden Rule too. Silence is gold.