I think I’m Muslim, therefore I’ m Melayu?

“Baca, baca artikel aku pasal Islam Melayu!” Isham Rais, the raw organic talent powerhouse of social and political critiques (laced with black comedies and tongue-in-the-cheek retorts) urged us sleepyheads (It was after 1 am at that time) to read his latest article. It was my first time at Bau Bau and my first reunion with a bunch of close friends since coming back from Scotland.

Isham broke his record for getting 142 comments from readers for this piece. Well, that’s how you get large number of hits on your blog, I guess. Put Islam and Melayu in one sentence. That will definitely give our society a deafening wake up call. (Or...errr...put also "murtad" and/or "dadah" in the same sentence).

Like what happened at Union Guy’s work place months ago. A young guy openly declared to his fellow colleagues that he no longer embraced Islam. He had converted to Christianity. Let’s not delved into the reasons why he thought its fine to declare that to his friends. I am more interested with his friends and employer’s reaction. The obvious happened. They boycotted him and his declaration won him a transfer to another branch with immediate effect. Before he was transferred, a heated debate took place between this “infidel” and his fellow “defenders of Islam”.

Among the issue he raised was he had doubts about some of Islam’s rules, citing polygamy as one example. I thought an interesting debate would ensue on how Muslims approach polygamy but of course, that only happened in my wet dream. His friends, angered by his so called blasphemous arguments, answered back with something like this: “Hoi, kasilah kitaorg *toot* bini ngan anak perempuan ko, kalu ko dah benci sangat dengan poligami!” And that answer which is so close of being the dumbest answer in the history of inter-faith debate, of course failed to help both sides reconciled. The young guy got intimidated by the outburst and withdrew. The others vented out their anguish to Union Guy, “Aku kalau dia ni minum todi, tido dengan perempuan, berjudi takpe lagi, jangan keluar agama, sudah, buat malu org Melayu je.”

Oh, macam itu ke?

To me, the ones who are embarrassing the Muslims are these people. Do they think ALL Muslims do not have questions about what it takes to be a better Muslim? My God, it’s like the Cartesian Duality question, pondered by philosophers for ages, questions about existence of God or religion has always been there. Muslims or not.

I for one, always have these questions wandering in my mind: What does it takes to be a better Muslim every day. Pray? Help each other no matter whom? Less shopping? Less activity of mengumpat? Contrary to how we, Muslims, think, being a Muslim is not straight forward but a very bumpy journey. Iman Al-Ghazali would not have produced Tahaful Al-Falasifa or Ihya’ul Ulumuddin, without first, seeking the answers to his doubts about his existence, about his religion. These outstanding works was produced by a man who struggled so hard in his life, perfecting his conscience and beliefs in his faith, every day. Similarly like the young guy that denounced Islam earlier, he had some doubts about his faith but nobody bothered to listen. Apparently, it is much more important for them to lead him towards a speedy repentance and save Melayu some face.

Touché Islam Melayu!

Coming back to Isham’s article, the only reservation I have was his agreement for mosques to be built for Chinese Muslims. My problem with this is not because I wanted all mosques in Malaysia to project Melayu-ness + Arab-risqué quality only. But for this one particular reason.

Our country had tremendously suffered as a polarized society and our political, economic and social historical landscape has witnessed great racial divide. Hence the fear, that by setting up separate institutions such as this, it will only encourage further divide. We are so comfortable with our pre-determined place (re: NEP, Federal Constitution) in the society that should we allow for separate mosques to be built; we might agree that Islam could also be a tool for social divide. It’s the existing mosques that actually need to be reformed. It’s the Muslims that need to be more compassionate and spread the love.

Don’t simply buy new cloths just because you can’t fit in the old ones. Lose your weight.

Sewing Machines Can't Buy My Democracy

Today I met a friend for lunch who grumbled on about Opposition’s lost in Ijok. She’s one of the volunteer for the by-election, helping out the Opposition candidate, to be exact.

I recalled the by-election in amusement. I thought Ijok was a yesterday’s story and after a few jokes on sewing machine and tractors[1], I said this to her

“That’s yesterday news, babe. Buat apa nak dikenang?”

But of course, being directly involved in the process, she can’t simply push aside the incidents that took place during the election. She needed to reminisce and get sentimental about the tragedy that befall Ijok. She knew that it’s harmless to bitch about both the Opposition and Ruling Government to me because I don’t trust partisan politics at all. Statistically put, I might be ticked off as “potentially a gone case” if the BN or Opposition canvassing volunteer conduct their voters survey.

To wait for five years before making a statement about how shitty your country is, is… well…shitty. I dedicate this to those who I absent-mindedly referred to as election junkies. I know some would say, that is better than just becoming part of the silent apathetic majority (SAMs) who didn’t’ care at all. I say that’s wrong. That’s even worse because you put your faith on democracy on a once-in-every-five-year event which later , will only cements the powers that be’s political existence in the system, whilst the SAMs do not waste their time on hoping AT ALL. We might think that one nice fat cross on the ballot paper will ensure that democracy will be alive and kicking. The sad news is, democracy will not survive but rather in state of dying for the next five years before it will be put on the stage show again for a political drama. With such vicious cycle, election would become a dictation. Pilihanraya then will be “Takde Pilihan”

Like I said “Buat apa nak dikenang?” Bring out your pen or painting brush, write or draw democracy today. Raise your hand in the lecture hall and scared the shit out of your lecturer with some open-ended questions, and resurrect democracy on campus again. Dumped your abusive husband the next time he hits you, and teach him that in a democratic marriage, he has to learn to accept a “No” for answer. Stop telling your kids what you want them to be/do and let them own their own space and self.

“My..my...aren't preggies preachy...” My tensed friend retorted after I told her that I would rather believe the fact that I can lose my weight tomorrow than believing that change can only come through electoral process. Power might transit. But quality of society would be just as stagnant if we think democracy works once in every five years.

Lagi kelakar when a friend declared that he can’t wait for the next election to perform his “undi rosak” ritual. See? To be "civilly disobedient" also must wait for the next election ka? Don’t make David Henry Thoreau weeplah geng!

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[1] Ijok now could potentially be the constituency with the most number of sewing machines in Malaysia, while at the same time, witness the first ever tractor convoy in the country that could put the Volkswagen’s Club to shame. Tsk tsk.

Don't play the racial cards with me, dear...

“So how? Want to go or not?”

Union Guy asked me for the umpteenth time. He received a sms about a free voucher for a 2 nights 3 days stay at any of the SG Hotel in Kuantan, Damai Laut or KL, which need to be collected today at a mall in PJ.

I, on the other hand, never believed in all these free stuff smses. The only free thing in the world that I recognized is my mom’s wrath and my wide toothy grin.

But being a very optimistic person who had braved through many stupid things, I said okay and agreed to go. The worse thing that could happen to me and Union Guy is we have to endure lectures on the importance of joining a vacation club and how that would strengthen our husband-wife relationship. Well, on that point all I can say is been there, done that.

True to my premonition, a young chubby guy welcomed us at the entrance, took us in and started gearing into the importance of going for vacations, to be able to see the world…bla…bla…the whole work. My brain went on screaming “Shut up! Shut up!” for the whole 45 minutes as he tried his damndest best to convince us into joining the vacation club. When I asked him back, “How much is the fee to be a member?” He quickly called his manager, explaining to us that only his manager can explain to us about fees and payments as he is not authorized to do so. Oh, so he is the product ambassador. Cheh! Not attractive at all.

A woman, in her mid-thirties with a business like smile approached us. Then, the following conversation took place;

“ Ala, dik, murah je dik. Take this as an investment, kalau adik ambik Full Platinum Membership, baru RM20,000..”

Mak oii. The fried rice I ‘ve just walloped felt like coming out. RM20, 000? Was she nuts? Do we look like a couple with RM20, 000 to spend on a vacation membership? Correction. Do we look like a couple with RM20, 000 in our banks?

Seeing our looks of horror, she went in for the kill. She explained that we could pay the fee in installments. I could see RM in her eyes.

‘Err…kami datang sini pasal nakkan voucher percuma tu je.”

I tried honesty. It works sometimes.

“Takkan nak voucher je kot, dik? Ambiklah membership satu,”

She’s a seasoned sales woman from the looks of it. We might be drawn to her convincing marketing style. That was, until the following words erupted from her mouth…

“Nilah orang Melayu, tengok kene keluar duit banyak sikit, dah terkejut, dah panic. Tak pandai nak menilai kualiti. Kalau org Cina, India, senang je nak jual”.

Ewah, ewah. This woman wanted to play racial card with me now. Where did she get her marketing skill training from? A Birotatanegara Camp?

That really did it. Not because I am insulted that she thought me being a Malay, I am therefore

a). Stingy

b). No money

c). All above.

I am offended with the fact that she characterizes people. Making free judgments that people are willing to sacrifice their RM20K based on their race. I can tell her how many of my grandma’s Hokkien neighbors in Kuala Kangsar would shake their head in disapproval to this vacation membership because they need the money for food, kid’s education or a better house. Or how Indian plantation workers are only getting a raise which is less that RM2 for working like modern slaves. But that wouldn’t matter to her at all, I bet. She further hinted that we prefer to pay the full sum for a lousy hotel like The First World Hotel which quality-wise is similar to her toilet at home, rather than getting discounts with the membership she is offering. (P/S: If her toilet has AC, carpets and room service, why is she working HERE?)

I shook my head and concluded that she is just plain cruel when she got disappointed. She is not playing the racial card to win a by-election or to get tenders. She is just a mean old woman, frustrated that her Malay counterparts are not helping her in getting more commissions for the business.

But I and Union Guy would not want to give her a hard time. And we don’t talk about class or wealth distribution at 6.30 pm in the evening. I just said that I couldn’t afford the membership even though I and Union Guy had traveled to UK, Europe, India, and Canada, Korea, Indonesia, Cambodia, Bangkok and some other places. We also normally didn’t stay at posh hotels during our travel. Either we bunk in with our friends or stayed at hostels. He looked at Union Guy’s faded work uniform in disbelief. Yeah, yeah, we know…we don’t have hip cloths too.

She just handed us the free voucher and shook our hands briskly.

Thank god, the voucher was after all “free”.

Moral of the story:
Do not wear your ugly work uniform (if it’s ugly), when you want to convince people that you have been abroad. Kidding. What I actually learned is that racial card is always on the table, played by politicians or even we, the laymen; in pursue of personal interest and profit. It just gets a notch sadder when we ordinary folks also succumbed to such “poker game”.