Xmas 2004

Snowballed - Singapore's Stonewall?

If you have ever visited, or ever get a chance to, a bar called Stonewall in New York City, you would probably shrug it off as just another watering hole and walk by. Those who know it for its significance will understand that that was the Ground Zero for the gay rights movement in NYC. The story is quite colorful. Drag queens holding police officers hostage. The Samson-ites taking on the Goliaths.

It may seem quite funny now, but then, it was a different world.

And to fight that world was a feat that took bravery only a feather boa could muster. And it was a feat that could have resulted in disaster. Fortunately for the Americans, what resulted was the birth of a beautiful rainbow.

Singapore has often been likened to the US of days gone by; one visiting American lecturer even put it down circa the 1950s-1960s (think Elizabeth Montgomery in Bewitched). The values and morals apparently mirror those of a simpler time in the great U S of A. But as history has shown for the Americans, values and morals change with the times. And it either evolves slowly, or its gets punched in the gut to move along.

The latter usually happens, when the so called conservative majority refuses to recognize that their world is changing or has already changed. It's what would eventually be termed in daytime talk shows, championed by Oprah herself, as denial.

So here it is. Singapore is in denial and she needs Dr. Phil.

You may have heard. The Singapore Police, that basically sees themselves as the upholder of public opinion, recently rejected the application for a licence by gay portal Fridae.com, to organize a year end dance party. For my international friends, in Singapore, you need a licence for everything. EVERYTHING. (read: if you have a dance show, you may have to dance for the authorities first before they allow your show to go on).

The Police claimed that they "do not discriminate against (gays), the Police also recognise that Singapore is still, by and large, a conservative and traditional society. Hence, the Police cannot approve any application for an event which goes against the moral values of a large majority of Singaporeans."

Some of those living in Singapore pointedly blame the recent events on a recent speech given by Dr Balaji Sadasivan, Senior Minister Of State For Information, Communications And The Arts & Health on the 27th November at the Singapore AIDS Conference. The sentiment was that Dr. Balaji's speech was anti-gay and served only to fire the prejudice of the conservatives.

But in assessing his speech made available on the official ministry website, http://www.moh.gov.sg/corp/about/newsroom/speeches/details.do?id=29294601, one may argue that much of what he has said has been taken out of context by the media.

In his speech, Dr. Balaji said that his ministry had 2 risk groups: "They are gays or MSM, ie Men having Sex with Men, and heterosexual men having casual sex abroad." He also added that "our specialists are worried about an explosion of AIDS cases among gays."

Dr.Balaji could be faulted for two things. His misinformed view that men having sex with men are exclusively gay, since apparently in his world bisexuality does not exist. To this I would say, go watch the movie Alexander, and if he really wants it, I could ask Oprah to send him a tape of her show on married men who love other men.

The second fault is just a misuse of the word explosion. Yes, it is true there have been more cases among the gay community recently. However, the leading advocate for HIV prevention in SIngapore Action for Aids, states that 'heterosexual spread is now the main method of transmission in Singapore. And over 75% of infections around the world are acquired through heterosexual intercourse'.

As Dr Rev Yap Kim How, former Bishop of The Methodist Church in Singapore & Malaysia states: "The gay community has done much, much more than the heterosexual community that I belong to in addressing sexuality and related sexual diseases and their prevention. It is in the heterosexual community that we need more education on such matters."

So while Dr.Balaji concedes, that "promiscuity is a risk factor for both gays and heterosexuals", the media have pounced on certain gay related statements and blew them up to be bigger than a water filled condom.

Andy Ho, a journalist with a local daily, connected Dr.Balaji's statement of 'an alarming Aids epidemic', with his interpretation that "gay men's unsafe sex practices were the biggest cause for concern". Needless to say, the last statement was not featured in Dr.Balaji's transcripts.

The journalist goes on to say:

"Urged on by new, disinhibiting club drugs like Ecstasy (in combination with Viagra), risky behaviour is now, compared to the pre-Haart era, twice as likely for HIV-positive gays and one-and-a-half-times more
likely for HIV-negative gays. In fact, according to the UCSF study mentioned above, a third of gays with HIV feel that Haart has made unprotected sex that much more thinkable for them now."

His conclusion was to question the logic of making anti-virals inexpensive and readily available since they make "HIV-positive gay fit enough to cruise around for casual, anonymous and risky sex, thereby spreading his virus and fuelling the second wave". Gay people are seen, therefore as loaded guns, in spite of the rate of transmission among heterosexuals. But I could share with Mr.Ho, how many straight men I know, married and single, locals and expats, spread themselves thinly and secretly, in search of the golden orgasm, he would realize that anonymous and risky sex is not exclusive to gay people. Casual sex is not driven by sexual preference, its driven by horniness and hormones. And that my dear Mr.Ho, anyone can choose to have, unless Mr.Ho himself does not understand the concept of being horny. Hm.

Mr.Ho's concerns are fueled by perceptions.

In his own words he believes the "gay world ... glorifies muscles, partying, drugs and anonymous sex". Furthermore, he believes that "to change their sexual behaviour will require going beyond publicity
campaigns. Instead, issues that belong more in the therapist's office, like self-esteem and self-hatred, will have to be confronted".

Mr.Ho's perceptions are even more dangerous than most, for if the authorities were to weight them in, people maybe find anti-virals that they actually need survive to be inaccessible by cost. Making his perceptions not only damning, but murderous.

It is interesting that Mr.Ho, like Dr.Balaji and Singaporean conservatives, believes that again the gay community are only made up on men. In Singapore, the concept of GLBT sounds more like a food item (think BLT). His perception that gay people possess issues of self-esteem issues and self-hatred is not only outright strange and prejudicial, it also undermines and devalues the moderate majority who live extremely actualized regular lives (some better than on his journalist salary). In his view, one can argue that Mr.Ho believes that gay people are lesser creatures deserving medical help to get over their problem of 'wrongly' identifying themselves in the sexual orientation bracket.

Certainly, as in any segment of society, there will be those in the gay community with issues. These issues are undoubtedly fueled by the negativity the press projects onto the conservatives. It becomes a question of right to exist, not exclusively on the morality of a different lifestyle.

Case in point: A ex-colleague in the media company I belonged to, revealed at the end of his tenure that he was gay. He chose to keep that a secret while he was still with the company for several reasons: that in spite of the fact diversity was considered the norm for most media companies, he didn't feel that same level of acceptance in this one. He also felt that his career needed to be protected for he viewed his department head to be a homophobe. Whether this is actually true is debatable. I will say that she did label yours truly as 'creative', a term I viewed as her catch phrase for 'gay'. She would add also that 'creative' people are loud and had an impression that one cannot take some things they do seriously (read: non-managerial material).

The bottom line is impressions lead people to react. And impressions are seldom factual.

That media company has more gays, lesbians and bisexuals I don't even care to count. The sad truth is, even in an American MNC that champions creativity, diversity, equality and originality in the United States, the so called labeled 'creative' people are forced to hide their identity out of fear. Fear of reprisals, of having their rice bowls affected, of being treated different.

The closet, or as we say it in Asia, wardrobe is literally a 'big one' in that company.

But even as sexual preference is apparently not an issue in terrestrial media, as many of the top executives are openly part of the family, the fears are real and affect many segments of Singapore society.

So the story has come to this.

The man acting as the husband in the Bewitched series was himself gay. Making he and Elizabeth Montgomery total professionals for all that kissing they had to do at the end of each episode. Oh, so they had gay people in the white bread, white picket fences era in America too!

Singapore is no longer stuck in a time warp of pre-Disco America.

The media plays an important role in forging opinions.

Singapore is, regardless of denials, a very, very gay country.

So, where do we go from here?

The rejection of the licence just serves to fuel to the slowly burning flame. An American friend told me that Stonewall happened because the gay community was tired of unfair treatment, of continually living in an air of being tolerated but not accepted, their right of existence being controlled for the shrinking conservatives.

Perhaps Snowball may fire up the younger GLBT community out of their Singaporean apathy and do something to claim their right to the world, and to eradicate impressions that a person like Mr. Andy Ho possess.

Or perhaps this international controversy may dwindle to an ember. But an ember still has heat. And it is foreseeable that it is a matter of time before Singapore breaks its own pattern of denial and recognize that the gay community is here, and is here to stay.

Watch this small space in the world. This writer will commit to this: Singapore will play an important part in GLBT rights in Asia, and the economics of recognizing the GLBT community will soon be too hard to ignore, whether she likes it or not.

Peace.

The Snowball Controversy:

http://www.fridae.com/newsfeatures/article.php?articleid=1359&viewarticle=1&searchtype=all

The International Response:

http://www.fridae.com/newsfeatures/article.php?articleid=1360&viewarticle=1&searchtype=all

The HIV Statistics:

http://www.afa.org.sg/astats.htm

------------------------------------------
DISCLAIMER:

This is a private message and the personal views of this writer does not reflect those of anyone mentioned within the article. At no time can this article be reproduced without permission by the writer.

Net Chats

A girlfriend of mine has just had the closest thing to being reborn. She joined the international chat community, she is an official Netizen.

It was interesting seeing her take her first few paces. A myriad of emotions seemed to overwhelm her. Excitement, surprise, uncertainty among others. Watching her was like a watching a flashback in time, when I first started chatting.

Phew. I've said it. I chat.

Certainly there shouldn't be any stigma associated with this. After all, it's supposed to be harmless anonymous communication with just about anyone with a computer. Web businesses have just about made a killing with this phenomenon, so what could possibly be wrong with it? Why did a part of me want to warn my friend about the perils of chatting?

The perils do not lie with the very concept of chatting. When you think about it, chatting is nothing more than a first introduction, with the chat software replacing a friend or family member as the middle man. Some liken it to meeting someone in a bar. Without the fear of immediate rejection.

Which brings me to a point. The fear of rejection is alive and well in cyberspace. It is this morbid and paralyzing fear of rejection that generates the first problem associated with chatting. Some people create profiles that are best kept to fantasy novels. Height, weight, waist size are either inaccurate or total fabrications. For unlike a bar setting where the visual impact cannot be hidden, the chat room buys you time. Perhaps the personality can overcome any initial concerns by the other party. So what could have been an immediate rejection could become a later acceptance based on a deeper connection. Yeah, right. A lie is a lie even in cyberspace.

The moralist in me wants to say if you can't be proud of who you are, and if other won't accept you for who you are, then stuff it.

But then again, there are other reasons why people go down the yellow brick road. Some have said that they get tired of using their real profiles and pictures only to have others hijack them for their own use. Fake profiles are so rampant that seriously no one knows who they are talking to anymore. And in an age where paedophiles and flesh eating men are scouring cyberspace, that is something to be truly concerned about.

Beyond the issue of identity though, you have to wonder what can come next from a chat. My girlfriend was mortified, being a net virgin that she is, to have had men offering to show her their willies on camera. Of course for the newbie that could be absolutely disgusting. But how long after the barrage of offers before curiosity sets in, you give in and you end up questioning your entire moral values. Is it wrong to see other willing and able adults bare all for cyberspace? Is it odd to be turned on by people you can't even touch?

Is it even odder that many chatters seem to have a dislike to take things to the next level? And hello, we aren't talking sex...yet. Text communication is one thing. Voice communication is another. And if you are in the same vicinity, face to face communication is the final goal. The 'bar' setting. Theoretically of course.

Many feel that taking the voice step is a huge one to take. And meeting in person, well, that is just too risky. I guess when people become used to communicating in cyberspace, real time becomes real hard.

Perhaps the fear of rejection is the prevalent issue still. It is so easy to hide behind text, a profile (real or fake) and not have to deal with the hassle of a real meeting. I have personally chatted with people who seem so wonderful online, but who refuse to talk on the phone or even meet. They seem more comfortable carrying on 'anonymous' chatting, which becomes ridiculous since chats eventually betray some part of yourself to the other person. How does anyone conduct anonymous chats when after a while it's no longer chats between strangers?

Of course there are the exceptions. There are people who are actually open to the possibility of making that great friend, or even lover. I too have heard the Hollywood fairy tale of people meeting their life partners through the internet. Whether we want to admit it or not, we all have secret desire to have a "You've Got Mail" scenario happen to us. We've all wanted to speak of a lot of 'nothings' that add up to a 'something'. Net relationships, like any real time connection takes time to develop, even longer I would argue. Trust is something that has left the room in cyberspace and it takes a leap of faith to say you really know the person you met online. But if real time meetings fail, then do we really have to blame it on the net? Could it be that real time dynamics and chemistry just did not work, as it could have been in say a 'bar' setting?

Still, imagine meeting that person. Imagine having a great time. Imagine being intimate. Invariably the question lingers, is this person putting on an act? Is this person for real? So even if real time dynamics work, what would I say to my friends and family about where I met this person? "Hi Mom, Dad, this is David, he is a US Navy man and I met him on the net...He's wonderful!!!". Yeah right. You don't know what's worse in terms of image: the fact he is a navy man or you met him on the net.

The stigma of a net chat.

Should I warn my girlfriend about the perils of chatting? Should I spare her the sleepless nights of chatting only to get a handful of truly meaningful relationships over a span of years?

I don't know. But I will say this. When you think about the old way of communicating, through the written word on paper, through letters, you realize how far we have come. But the sentimentalist in all of us will remember the joy of receiving a letter from a pen pal, cherishing every word that was written and every postage stamp that got it to its destination. Perhaps technology has made communication so disposable it becomes too easy to say things you don't necessarily mean or feel. And it has made language a bastardized construct as opposed to the art form it was before.

It's funny. While technology and communication is supposed to bring people closer together, it seems to be taking them apart. It becomes a pity that a fantastic medium of instant connection is not exploited for its true value. I admit I have chatted with a lot of people over say 4 years. But I can count with my fingers how many I have kept in touch with and forged meaningful relationships with. Perhaps though, those few people out of the thousands, and the hope of meeting yet another one of those great real people, make the next click on the mouse worth it.

Bush is back

BIG SIGH.

Bush is back.

It is interesting to generally see the bigger US cities supported Kerry. Could it possibly be big cities are where people with passports live? Or perhaps disposable income rich GLBT people reside there?

It is more telling that the yeehaaww colonies backed Bush. Unsurprising really. Let me tell you my experience in MIddle America before my family moved to a bigger city.

Not a lot of international news. Newspapers preferred to cover local news, read: "firefighters save dog from burning house". Lots of greasy junk food and refillable soda fountains.

A distant in law said: Oh yes i travel, I was in Las Vegas last year. Internationally? Oh NO. I cant stand long flights. There is a big world out there? Na, I dont like long flights. I don't have a passport.

Reaction: my eyes rolled to the sky so violently, they fell out of their sockets and onto the floor. And I might add, it was so hard to be plastic and smile politely. It appeared that there were enough ignorant people in Middle America that are so devoid of having an international perspective they are like a blank page you can write nonsense on. Singapore is in China. Tropical means only Hawaii. Filipinos are Latin American cousins. Bush is actually smart and Bushism should be put into the Oxford dictionary.

These people live in areas that Bush may have forgotten; there are people who are by Asian terms, very Kampung, very rural village. Economically challenged. Streets uncared for. Small dollar stores. Forget about Tiffany or Kenneth Cole. And Victoria's Secrets is something only naughty prostitute like girls wear.

I saw shops that have been abandoned, rows and rows of them. It was like a scene out of Bowling for Columbine. The mood was catching. Staying there too long would destroy your spirit. You would end up like the dust on the walls of those abandoned shops. Where was Bush's pro-employment initiatives there?

So I am glad I have my passport to bring me to places where life isn't dictated by fear and depression, even as the US is insisting even residents from the visa waiver program would have to get fingerprinted.

It will be more of a hassle to get in to the US I am sure. I foresee the walls of Fortress America getting higher and higher. And with the news of evangelical vote, the divide between Christian pro Israel US and the Islamic world may increase as well.

A Channel NewsAsia report before the results were announced interviewed an American male living in Singapore.

He said that he could not get over how non Americans are so concerned about the elections that should only be a matter for American citizens to grapple with. He said that all the issues Bush was discussing during the campaign trail, even about terror, was relevant only to Americans. Therefore, he concluded, it was basically no one else's business. Perhaps he was right, since news reports showed that Americans voted finally based on shared values, not about international politics and the US's conduct in it.

Still that interviewee seems to have wasted his time living away from home. If a blonde like Cameron Diaz can tell television viewers that having travelled widely, she realized Americans are alone in the world, then it is clear that American politics does affect other countries and should be viewed as inseparable from World politics. One must also remember a massive CNN initiative with the Oprah Winfrey Show before Iraq was invaded (notice the use of the word), where noted anchors/reporters made it clear that in every part of the world, on the ground the US has lost moral authority in the way it was conducting itself on the global stage.

That American in Singapore has shut his eyes to the impact his country has on others. Perhaps he is in Singapore to live up to his capitalist background. Take the riches of another place for one's own gain, then leave, never caring what has been left behind. It is colonialism for the new millennium.

And perhaps he could not see that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Global negative opinion towards a nation cannot be the fault of those that share that sentiment. It is illogical to accept that. Those that would are blind and arrogant. Much like the arrogance displayed at the post victory news conference today where much was elaborated on how freedom and democracy is a must for every nation of the world, and that is the only way to protect the safety of Americans in the long term. Have Americans ever wondered, who voted them to decide what is best for others? And if American politics is only a concern for citizens, why do they think they then have the moral right to interfere in other nations' politics? And is it possible that a different way of life could actually be ok?

Arrogance.

In classic Bush like form. And like the Ugly American visitor, the Channel NewsAsia interviewee. He is pro Bush.

It is sad.

Four more bad years.

BIG SIGH.

---------
footnote: it is funny. If democracy is so fantastic, then why hasn't Bush forced it into Brunei? Is Brunei a democracy, being Islamic and having a Sultan as an overall ruler? Probably does not matter either way, Brunei is rich. Politics may be politics, but money still rules ultimately.

Fragrance Reviews - Men Only

Hot Dude
Originally uploaded by shartz.

When the names of fragrances are permutations of the word ‘men’, you know it’s going to take some doing to separate the men from the boys.

What will it take to get red-blooded men rushing to the store? Could it be the FiFi awards (the Oscars of the fragrance industry) the scents have won? Or perhaps the packaging? Well, the following five fragrances have found ways to hit the right spots. Follow the finger snaps (1 for EW! to 5 for AH!) and you’ll know how to choose.

Jean Paul Gaultier – Le Male

Finally! A scent we can call our own!

Admit it: we do judge a man by his package. And in this case JPG wants you to judge Le Male (or The Male to you Anglophiles...duh) by its packaging.

A bottle in the shape of a muscular torso in a sailor’s outfit can cure any man’s homo-erectile dysfunction. It’s the stuff gay men’s fantasies are made of, and using the iconic sailor is a validation that gay culture is merging into mainstream consciousness. Mind you, a straight man might be tempted to push that poor excuse of a homo-wannabe status called metrosexual a little further!

Still, smooth sexy body aside, it’s always the inside that counts. A fine mix of lavender, mint, orange blossom and vanilla makes this scent sweet, and almost romantic. Fear not, sweet doesn’t mean feminine, and its musky undertones ensure that.

This is one distinctive scent that will make you unforgettable and it guarantees attention. Absolutely love it. Wear it like a badge on your sleeve, it solidifies your indentity without having to be draped in Pride colors! What does it deserve?

Verdict: 5 Snaps with both hands baby!


Dolce and Gabbana –Pour Homme

Have you ever arrived at the airport to check into cattle class, only to envy the gentleman walking confidently into the First Class lounge?

Well, guess what he would be wearing on his body? If it’s not you (yet), don’t worry. You can still get there if you run out and get Dolce & Gabbana Pour Homme (For Men…duh again).

Its sophistication starts right out the box. The blue velvety feel is as elegant as a Dolce and Gabbana fall collection suit, and the bottle follows a clean, uncluttered line.

The fragrance follows this idea through. The lemon, orange and lavender essences is surprisingly fresh and calm at the same time. It wraps around you without being overpowering. This is a scent that is truly an accessory, not the main attraction.

It would not be out of place in Monte Carlo or the French Riviera. It doesn’t scream, “Look at me!” and is more likely to suit the self assured, global traveler who gets invited to black tie events.

If you are yet to experience the joys of First Class, try this fragrance first. Aspiration always begins with inspiration.

Verdict: 4 Snaps in a Discrete Round the World Fashion


Marc Jacobs – Men

The bottle and the packaging would have us believe that men are as simple as a brick. I can’t say it wows me but together they garnered a FiFi for best packaging of 2003! Go figure.

The scent is something else though. It is certainly in a class of its own. It is distinctive although because it isn’t as visible or provocative (or targeted) as say, Le Male, it will take a while for people to catch up with recognition.

The first testing conjured up these words: creamy, coconut, tropical. I know it’s odd but smelling this made me want to order a pina colada and put on my tanning lotion.

Perhaps it is the rich, heavy odor of gardenia with honeysuckle. Or perhaps it’s the Egyptian jasmine, which is the costliest scent in the fragrance, that imparts the smooth silky mood.

Seeing that this scent is also a FiFi winner for Fragrance of the Year, it must have done something right. If you like your scents light, this could be for you. Now if only the packaging comes complete with your own beach boy!

Verdict: 3.5 snaps (as in snap, snap, snap and that’s enough!)


Chanel – Allure Men

I love Allure period. Case closed.

Seriously though, Chanel really knows how to make a person stand out without having to be outlandish. The ring on its cap is all it needs to attract attention. That is the mark of great style, which is what this fragrance is about.

I could go on and on about its composition, such as the sweetness of vanilla and the earthiness of patchouli. But to truly appreciate Allure Men is to understand the mastery in how it’s crafted.

Most fragrances "dry down" and smell different from the start to the finish. First you smell top notes, then middle, then base. Allure is rare in the fact that it is a multi-note fragrance that does not dry down in this fashion, but rather consistently maintains its own integrity.

Similarly, style is consistent. And the man who chooses this scent possesses this quality. He is comfortable in his own skin; he is not a wannabe. Imagine a man who is able to walk tall in tuxedo pants and sandals. Why? Because it’s just him. It’s the small details that sets him apart. They say that God is in the details, and if that is true, Allure is pure heaven. Really, really love this one.

Verdict: 5 snaps in a sweeping circle (like a Chanel ring!)


Ralph Lauren – Polo Blue

FiFi winner? Really? This is like Marisa Tomei winning the Oscar!

The flask like bottle is a yawn. And the blue packaging is a little expected. But the fragrance? Fortunately it is a little more than what was expected. There is a refreshing perkiness when you first spray it on, thanks to its top notes of cucumber and tangerine. And I am happy to report that this zing still carries through even though the dry down notes of basil and moss sets it down to a warm and spicy base.

Ralph Lauren says this latest fragrance is for the man who is masculine without being macho. I say that this fragrance is ‘safe’ and is for the homo in the blue jeans. This is not for the guy in that great Zegna suit, or the Zara shopathoner. This is for the man who prioritizes casual comfort over sharp elegance. He is the guy who labels himself as straight acting although there is nothing straight about him.

He is the anti-thesis of the guy who would love Le Male. Don’t misunderstand me, there is nothing wrong with the blue jeans dude. So if this is right up your alley, spray spray spray. I however, like my Zegnas. So….

Verdict: 3 Snaps, done really slowly…..

People are Dispensable, Like Sweaters

NOTE: THIS IS A SIMPLY A PIECE OF CREATIVE WRITING, INSPIRED BY A WELL WRITTEN NOTE (SEE BELOW). IT IS NOT MEANT TO DEMEAN OR BELITTLE OR DEGRADE THE CONTENT OF THE ORIGINAL MESSAGE. THIS PIECE IS JUST SOMETHING YOU WOULD EXPECT IF THERE WAS SUCH A THING AS FREEDOM OF SPEECH AND EXPRESSION IN SINGAPORE. A VALUABLE PRIVILEGE FOUND ONLY IN AMERICA AND EUROPE (NOT TOO SURE ABT GREAT BRITAIN THOUGH).

DO LAUGH DISCREETLY IF YOU MUST. BUT PLEASE RESPECT THE SWEATERS.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As all of you undoubtedly now realize, when I have something to say I say it and money cannot buy me off from speaking my mind and fear cannot change my values and principles (other people may differ).

Redundancies unfortunately happens when you buy two sweaters of the same color. When you buy two sweaters of different colors, they serve different purposes. When you have bought too many sweaters and your wardrobe is full, you take responsibility and blame yourself for being greedy. Then if you need to clear the space in the wardrobe, you offer the sweaters to loving homes or to the less fortunate who can benefit from their beauty. But oh, to throw them in the waste basket would be, well a waste. Since they are after all beautiful.

But decisions like (these) are enormously difficult and they are arrived only after serious thought. Which to go, which to stay, which will make my dirty past go away. Oops. Is there truly a way to decide logically? Perhaps its best to go with, which sweater suits your personality and temperament. Your type of sweater. Even if they are basic black or tartan checks. And trash the rest that doesn't feel your new vibe.

But still, decisions like these are made for one reason only, to simply do what is best for the wardrobe, and one's plans to make it more suited to one's taste, and a possible expansion of that taste. Of course if you really want to do what is best for the wardrobe, you might consider making space in the ENTIRE wardrobe, and not just the sweater drawer. For example, say, the socks drawers too, and hmm, the underwear drawer. After all, just clearing sweaters won't truly clear up too much space and may make you look like you have something against your own sweaters, one may even call it a grudge or personal gripe against the clothing article that has worked so hard to keep you warm. Na. You don't want to be seen to be ungrateful.

But fashion is an ever changing entity, and although fashion should be about more than just sweaters, sweaters can never take their positions in the wardrobe for granted, unless they come back in style somehow in a few years. But by that time, you would buy the same designs again at higher prices anyway. Still the clearing of stock for one season is a limited event, and no further reduction should be anticipated....until the wardrobe needs freshening up next season of course.

Well, the future will look positive once you have more space. And you certainly can entertain ambitious plans to make your wardrobe even better than before, especially if you remove colors and just have basic black for every day of the year.

So while it is a difficult and unusual experience for most people to clear out their wardrobe, they should do it and get over it.

After all, what's a bunch of beautiful sweaters?



Sent:
To: All Singapore Staff
Subject:

As all of you undoubtedly now realise several redundancies were unfortunately announced today. Decisions like this are enormously difficult for all concerned and they are arrived at only after serious thought and for one reason only. The reason is simply what is best for the company, its shareholders and employees. Companies are ever changing entities and while none of us can ever take our positions for granted no further reduction in staff numbers are anticipated

The future is looking very positive for HBO Asia and we are hoping to announce some ambitious plans for the company soon. 

I realise this is a difficult and unusual experience for most but I hope all can put things behind them as we move the business of HBO Asia forward.


------------------------
footnote: the lady on the left of me, the one with the rose, i considered as my sister in the office. she stabbed everyone in the back including her boss, and eventually assumed her boss' position. way to go office politics!
oh and the fat guy next to me, is the main protagonist in everything that has happened , but of course that does not mean squat in terms of being humane and fair. am i bitter....NAAAA...anyone who has fantasies about japanese schoolgirls in stockings needs our sympathy. nuff said.

Sin-Gay-Pore?

An expatriate acquaintance told me this: One-third of Singaporean males are gay.

Wow. Is that even possible? In a country so anal and homophobic, I couldn't fathom how he could get to such a conclusion.

The odd thing was I seem to learn a lot about Singapore from foreigners. Another expat told me about Raffles City, a big mall in town. He said, "Stand in the center of the atrium, look up, and see all those guys leaning against the railings of the different floors. They are all cruising." That was fascinating to me. I took his dare and indeed I saw guys just standing around. At first I thought they were waiting for friends, or just resting, tired from shopping. Until I walked past a white male in his 50's trying to pick up a 20-something. It was unmistakable, especially when he was blaring out in his Aussie accent about his sexual prowess. The boy, in all his Asian sensibilities was obviously cringing at being the center of attraction in what was supposed to be discreet.

It was also through foreigners that I learned a few more truths about Singaypore. I discovered that the 'Pink Dollar' is starting to gain prominence. Shops and services catering to the gay community are on the rise. They may be poor cousins to what you may find in Compton Street or Christopher Street. But the spirit is all there.

It is a spirit which I only started feeling when I first visited New York a few years back. I admit it. The word 'gay' to me was dirty. Something conditioned by environment more than a personal ethos. Then a friend guided me into world of the 'beautiful' men. Flashing lights, thumping house music, tight jeans, and gigantic muscles. Apparently no self respecting fpt gay man would dance with a shirt on. Sad to say, prior to that experience, I shared the same misconception as any straight Singaporean that gay men were mostly twinkies; thin, submissive and effeminate (the stereotype that some foreigners go for, much like how their straight counterparts choose their Asian mail order brides).

But these were men. Everything you would assume men should be...but more. Of course not everyone was body beautiful. But neither were they the odd outsider, they were regular people with regular lives. And they had their existence recognized as a community. Suddenly I could see 'gay' as power.

So perhaps what the expatriate acquaintance told me is true. One-third of Singaporean males are gay. And of course that is yet to cover Lesbians, Transgendered and Bisexuals. But one will never be able categorically confirm the truth of the statement. Can anyone really know what turns another person on, either emotionally or sexually if they don't tell you?

With the Prime Minister saying the Government is open to hiring openly gay individuals/foreigners into public service, the Pandora's box has been blasted sky wide. Even gay Singaporeans who chose to enjoy anonymity cannot remain hidden anymore.

How can they? When even their 'sympathizers' write to the dailies saying 'Hate the sin, Love the sinner'. How can they when people have resurrected the absolutely stupid and incorrect notion that AIDS is a gay disease. How can they when one church chose to put up a huge banner on the side of its exterior wall, visible from the above ground subway tracks, calling for confused gay individuals to change their ways through God. How can they when Church groups are now doing online and offline hate campaigns to lobby the Government to overturn their positioning. As a journalist noted over the weekend, since when has the Church persecuted its neighbors and er, its Prime Minister?

I never believed in politicizing the issue of identity. One needs to be allowed to be who one chooses to be sans discrimination. But in considering the Church's position, and in respecting its stand on how immoral gay people are, I am left with the following questions:

-What recourse does the Church suggest, since the very existence of homosexuality appears to be against the teachings of Christianity? Will a hate campaign solve the issue or further divide the camps?
-Would rounding every Gay man, woman, child, animal and insect and marooning them on an island help? I believe such an island would be called Mykonos.
-Since the existence of homosexuals in society is considered damaging to morality, does the Church prefer them dead? Or perhaps would they prefer compulsory re-programming and/or institutionalization?
-How would the Church propose to identify who is gay and by which criteria? By how creative their hairstyles are? Haven't we all learned from the Salem witch hunt? Or should Arthur Miller be made compulsory reading?
-What would the Church do if they discovered gay individuals within their ranks, or the ministerial leadership, or business heads, the media, etc. Replace them with less qualified people?

So what can you say about the Prime Minister if Singapore? He is realistic. You just cannot ignore or persecute the 'crime' of existence. But he is treading on thin ice. Surrounded by a ring of fundamentalists as neighbors, it won't be easy to affect change. Malaysia has already joined a coalition to remove gay rights. 'Nuff said.

Still the march is on. There are so many Singaporean gay websites, businesses, social groups that change is inevitable. There is incredible strength in a collective identity. And when the Singaporean 'Pink Dollar' gets more powerful, there is no stopping the need for a new social order. After all, Singapore is all about dollars and cents.

Perhaps when the need for acceptance is led by yet another Government campaign will things get better. They succeeded with the racial harmony campaign, why not a 'Love Your Neighbor' or a 'So What?' campaign?

Perhaps one day, Singapore will join the ranks of Europe, Australia and the Americas and have its own Pride Parade. God and perhaps even the Singapore Government knows its a real tourist dollar booster. A theater group is about to stage a play about it (surprising since the authorities passed it).

Perhaps one day life will imitate art.

Dictator.

This is a letter to a guy named Ken, in response to something he wrote:

__________________

hi ken

you dont know me. but i had the (dis) pleasure of reading an article you have been sharing around, titled "trying to help" by dennis miller.

my first reaction to it was not one of disgust or horror, but one that can be summarised by a single American born notion: "WHATEVER".

i am sure it was supposed to lighten the seriousness of the situation. so i wanted to lay it down as being so stupid, so idiotic and unthinking, that it truly didnt deserve any attention from anyone with half a brain.

see, i realized that it did take half a brain to write that article. only half a brain would make presuppositions, false historical claims and factual errors, and finally urge people to give up all human decency and intelligence to support a war that is becoming mass entertainment on CNN. isnt it wonderful that the US military has allowed MTV, the Rolling Stones mag, and journalists to climb on board their vehicles as they 'charge' into Iraq in a war that would 'shock and awe'. view from the ground...hmm.isnt it amazing that the US can turn an expedition to kill into a 3 ring circus with colorful bombastic rhetoric and imaginative press releases.

many things can be said about the US tactics, from how the government tries to generate support for the cause by instilling mass fear about further terrorist aggression, by blaming that on everyone else without acknowledging responsibility since the current foreign policy is igniting reactions worldwide, by not understanding that when you hit a animal, it would most likely end up biting you in self defense. but hey these can be debated right?

But:

one thing is true.

regardless of who is right or wrong. people will die. more iraqi than americans or british. esp since its becoming more apparent that iraq has disarmed. think about it. its a chess game. if iraq fights back, they would have proven bush's claim of their aggression. if they dont, they will get invaded. either way they lose. if this was about just saddam's regime, there would have been other ways to get him out. assassination? hmm just a thought. today however, CNN reported that US troops were targeting quote 'the prize'. Iraqi oil fields. now, do you need minimum education to understand what this means and what the final objective is?

i dont know you. and i dont judge you. but understand that propagating and distributing such an article is dangerous. if it is read by people with half a brain, the war could end up achieving the moral legitimacy it doesnt deserve.

btw i assume youre american. i know you guys believe saddam is a dictator. i agree. but hey look at this definition in the webster's dictionary:

Main Entry: dic·ta·tor
Pronunciation: 'dik-"tA-t&r, dik-'
Function: noun
Etymology: Latin, from dictare
Date: 14th century
1 a :a person granted absolute emergency power; especially :one appointed by the senate of ancient Rome b:one holding complete autocratic control c:one ruling absolutely and often oppressively
2:one that dictates


i suppose autocratic control, ruling absolutely presupposes rule without the mandate of the majority, and/or the people. it is totally non democratic, non elected and non supported.

funny. sounds like your president is a dictator too.

food for thought.

take care ken.

The Mourning After

The old saying that time heals all wounds is not absolutely true. Much of the world events today are born of things that happened in the past.

The American President George W. Bush’s hatred for Iraqi President Saddam Hussein. The escalating Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Everything can be traced to historical roots.

Is it so unreasonable for people to put things in perspective and move on to a better, more hopeful future?

Why can’t people just get over it and get a life?

Three days ago, my family observed a quiet memorial day. It was the first year anniversary of the death of my nephew, who would have been two this year.

I still remember the time I received the call.

It seemed like any other day. Slog at work, come home to my Macintosh. Then the call came. And everything came crashing down. If anything it was the screaming in my head that made me feel like my being had exploded and had spread out over a thin area. I was bouncing off walls for the wrong reasons with no destination. The feeling of not knowing what to do, the inability to change what cannot be changed, was overwhelming.

One year on, that has not left me.

I enjoy my bus trips to work. Sometimes, those few minutes give me some of my better ideas for work. Since then however, I’ve also been visited with memories. Just like my better ideas, these memories come out of the blue. And the same screaming returns.

Perhaps it stems from a sense of guilt. Contrary to being a good Muslim, I sometimes find myself questioning the logic of such a loss. He was a special child. It is a stand I take not because he was my nephew, but because it is a fact. They say every child is special and that may be true. But this baby was an old soul with a mind that was learning and processing at a very fast rate. So why this child?

I toyed with the possibility of punishment. Did my family do something wrong to deserve this? Were we being dealt with in this life for our vanity? Truly, the baby was a source of joy and pride. I myself thought he was so cute and more importantly, gentle that I put him in one of my film projects. Even my crew felt that he was so much better than the other child we had on standby. That made me feel proud.

Historically speaking, vanity has always been punished with tragedy. Just look at Michael Jackson. Moot point.

Still, the reasons why eludes me. And perhaps that is how it is meant to be. They say that everything happens for a reason. But maybe that reason is not for us to know.

Yesterday my manager was reviewing a trailer I was cutting for the movie “The Accidental Tourist”. In it, a couple had to deal with the premature death of their pre-teen son. The anguish and the sorrow, the impact of the family seemed all too close for comfort.

My manager asked me why people couldn’t just deal with the tragedy of loss and move on.

It was then that I learned something.

For all the sayings of a better tomorrow, only one thing is true. That until Armageddon is upon us, there is always a tomorrow. Is it better? That is something else.

For me, the pain does not soften as it is tied to memories. Memories are potent deliverers of what you no longer have. You do not stop grieving over losses, you never do. You take it and store it aside in an attempt to cope and carry on. But the mourning never ceases. So while you do not wake up with a puffy face, swollen eyes and a major headache like the first morning after the loss, you do not stop mourning regardless.

I don’t think we are meant to forget when something as monumental as this happens. As humans, we are given a will. And that is what you will have to use to manage the loss.

So you don’t forget. You never do. And for all the things that are happening in the world today, you can’t knock the fact that the past is an active ingredient to what will happen in qqthe present and future.

Politics.

“Shoot first, talk later”.

As the United States prepares itself to assume a Roman position of power in world politics, it is easy to understand why global opinion is slowly turning against them. Whether this ultimately makes a difference in their stance remains to be seen. But the effects on the common man is surely setting in.

While not taking an outwardly supporting stand, Americans nevertheless seem happy to take a quiet supporting role. And who can blame them after the tragedy that happened on September 11 last year? Not supporting the current American foreign policy would seem almost like a declaration of apathy at a time when national pride was hurt on their own soil; while supporting it would mean surely sending some of their boys to their graves.

But is being part of the silent majority the answer?

In an odd and unsettling coincidence, a new turn of events within my office seems to parallel current world affairs. The library unit of my company decided to unilaterally devise a new level of red tape. They created new forms whose objective was to track how often producers were asking for tapes (seemingly last minute) within a work day. These forms do not mean that the producers would be able to retrieve the tapes, they were designed to eventually be used as documentary proof of how ineffective the producers were, and how apparently inhibitive their patterns were to the librarians’ work flow. The more they signed their names on those forms, the more they can be seen as being disorganized and unreasonable. They would be signing their own professional death warrants.

For those who have ever borrowed books from a public library, or those in broadcast who have borrowed tapes out for edits, I know what you are thinking. They are a library. And their function should be to dispense materials required by the borrowers. Without the emotional baggage of guilt, nor a feeling that every request is one asking for a favor.

So how does this new move benefit anyone?

That is not so clear.

What is clear however is that this appears to be a retaliatory move against a recent report that their staff shut their workstations down before it was time, thereby not being able to service the production teams. It appears to be a case of tit for tat. One designed to cover their own inadequacies.

This move seemed to have been made without any consensual agreement between department heads, as would have been required for any implementation of new procedures that would affect entire departments.

“Shoot first, talk later.”

It is curious to see how global tension has been shrunk to a microcosmic level.

The same dilemma applies. To support this new move would almost mean giving a stamp of approval on an action that was not given absolute sanctioning by all those affected. By extension it would also mean giving up a level of sovereignty to a department that seems to simply want to assert a sense of power and retribution. A department whose message seems to be “you hurt us, we crush you”. Sounds familiar?

To vocalize any protest could lead to other repercussions.

So what do you do? The same question applies. Do you keep keep quiet and hope things will somehow get better?

There is no magical answer that can be a benefit absolutely everyone. Even on a global perspective, any direction will not yield a total win-win outcome.

Perhaps the only answer is to take it to a very personal level.

In a post dinner mooncake and Maxim’s de Paris session tonight, I was reminded of something.

Flashback.

A room. Basic. Hot. Humid. Baptist hymns blasting on cheap speakers. Standing outside one’s body looking in. A few meters ahead, a white coffin. Just a few steps. With every one heavier than the last. Fearing what will be seen. Reaching the edge, peering down, there is a coldness. Like a slumber that will never end. The purity has been returned to the Maker. And a divide is created. Where once two souls shared one life, only one is left behind to continue the journey.

What became blindingly clear at that moment, is that there is no permanence in this life. For all the joy and sadness, love and hate, nothing will remain and all that will be left is alone-ness.

That recognition truly humbles. And it puts you outside of yourself. And you realize that the only one that you need to decide for is yourself. The decisions you make should hopefully allow you to carry on until you too are returned.

Present.

Any decision or action made, for whatever reason used to justify them, will come to pass.

The United States may go on its manhunts and personifying of human ills, and the library in my company may carry on assuming the position of the victim while implementing strategies that will gain them power over the people they were meant to service.

But when you think about it, whether on a macro or micro level, some people will continue to further their imperfections through their choices.
People will live, die and move on. With their past as their blueprint for their Maker’s final judgment.

For my micro situation, I will set my own blueprint and choose not to respond to what is happening. I believe that by abstaining from following the new procedures may, in an extreme scenario cost me my job. But it will save me my dignity and self worth, something that is a birth right and cannot be measured in externalities and money. If that sounds magnanimous, it isn’t. It is hard to stand up for what you believe in, especially when people will challenge such a decision for their own reasons. But when your time comes, you need to be able to meet your Maker and say, I have not wasted Your efforts and work on me. I lived the best life I could have made for myself in the time You gave me. I lived on principle and faith. And every morning, I can look at myself in the mirror and believe that I have not compromised the values I innately know come from You.

Perhaps this is something World leaders and others engaged in human politics will think about before they embark on anything that affects others. Making small positive personal decisions, perhaps things will be better for it.

End.

Death.

Silence.

Its a nice concept. One that sometimes eludes me.

This year, all I have been hearing is noise. Mainly screaming, from inside and out. Mainly due to things I couldn¹t foresee. Couldn't control.

Tonight. Something happened. Trivial. Possibly unworthy of attention under other circumstances.

But despite friends trying valiantly to help me get into the weekend mode, the silence I seek now is still elusive.

Office politics have risen again. Something I ran away from so many times before. The true murderer of any creative person's soul. Something bureaucrats usually fail to understand.

My response to tonight was less than stellar. For the cut has gone deeper that it really deserves. In a situation that could be at best seen as the product of small mindedness, my reaction was the product of nearly three years of consistent battering.

The source of these politics come from one place that has, since I stepped into my current position, sought to make my professional life one of forcedhumility and shame.

One of their members made it clear that I am not the religious ideal that he felt would justify any acknowledgement of my existence as a spiritual being. I am not the perfect virtuous learned Muslim that he and his mates felt they were. So right up front, he made sure I understood I am very low on the hierarchy of enlightenment. That I was not a good Muslim.

He judged me. And he used that to shame me every time I had to approach him on work matters. It made me feel disgusted that some Muslims could be so self righteous and so conceited. In an American organization, I would have
thought that is simply not kosher.

Other occasions, my so called lifestyle came under fire. A lifestyle they could only assess based on what they thought they knew, as opposed to what is reality. Their opinions were summarized by one single Malay expression, which they didn't bank of me hearing, that was used by one of their mates.

Translated, the word was: Dirty.

Early this year, my family suffered a personal tragedy. We took steps to make sure only those who needed to know would know. The pain and the suffering needn't be extended or exploited.

Through ways that we couldn't foresee, this same group of people who has made it their business to know everything that has happened to everyone, found out.

And word spread to others.

Something I so desperately wanted to keep private got leaked and used as gossip.

I never tried to keep my life a secret before. But this was a family affair. And that wasn¹t even respected.

When I got back to the office, they wanted details. Even though I said I didn't want to talk about it. The unit head kept pushing. Regardless of how cracked I looked.

The screams in my head got louder. For even though the things these people were doing were offensive on a personal level, their impact obviously collided with the professional.

To this day they have also made it their job to check on the performance of others. In spite of the fact that if this was ANY other company, their primary duty would be to support the production teams without question, a value I heard was upheld when one of the American bosses was still around. Now, things have changed. And they have made people like me suffer for their change in work environment.

Where do you draw the line. Between work and play. Between acceptance and tolerance. When do you say, enough is enough.

A friend said to rise above it all. I tried. But after nearly three years of hearing their whining and being the brunt of their jokes, I realize why my head is filled with those screams.

I have been discriminated. And abused. And I have had my privacy invaded.

I am not being over dramatic. I am troubled, and I am hurt. And I know what has happened tonight will not yield any good for they will personify the problem with one name: mine. The classic weapon of office politics.

Can I do anything about it. No. For even though you can endeavor to assert change in policies and procedures, it would take a lot more to change a person's heart.

From where I stand now, this constant screaming will not go away. For I have yet to find a way to understand how people can be so cruel, and so methodological in they way the trap others for the sake of power.

But there is always a choice.

Always.

And perhaps the screams can go away. And silence will return.

Fashion.

The word alone implies a world and a people that are at once adventurous and frivolous at the same time. As an industry, it lives in a place of its own, with its own language and ethics.

Not many can understand it fully. And chances are you have to be part of it to totally accept it.

In my experience, I have, by choice or otherwise depending on the time, stayed on the fringe of the industry. Loving the speed of the lifestyle and the color is just about enough for me. As for the rest of the crap that comes with it, I would say no thank you.

Don¹t get me wrong. I love fashion. It matches the ebb and flow of life as it changes and morphs with every season. When I dabbled in fashion however, I found myself among people who could only talk about it every minute of the day. So what if the Berlin Wall was going down, the hemlines were going up!

It is not like that all the time though. I was fortunate to have met people in the industry who were more than their skins. They had their own lives, had strong relations with their families, found joy in more things than the latest Prada handbag. It is rare to find these people and when you do, you realize that you can be 'beautiful' and smart at the same time.

Staying on the fringe allowed me to stay in perspective. Fashion people live with a temperament that is hard to decipher. And it is a lifestyle of extremes. You could be so now this minute, and so over the hill the next. One week you can be absolutely hating another in the industry with all your soul, the following week that person can return as your long lost best friend.

I found myself with floating overhead question marks recently when I talked to an old acquaintance. He is a very established fashion show producer who gave up his degree to pursue his chosen field. I felt like I was so yesterday when he mentioned names of bosom buddies that earlier this year, he hated with his guts. All of a sudden, this model and that other industry person were among his list of favorites. The change in climate made me feel like I was no longer in Kansas. The swing of the pendulum was incredible.

This acquaintance was also extremely passionate in trying to corner me into hiring one of his discoveries: a model that he found in London, over another model he rated as second and even third best, someone so below the grade he was not worth my time. Strange thing is, he had never worked with this other model before and his judgment was based on how he was being treated by the model's agency and the rumors that flew in the industry about him. His perceptions were narrow and unfair. It was the perfect paradox of closed mindedness in an industry that is supposed to strive on openness.

Listening to my acquaintance rant and rave about how I was going to have the industry hate me for not bending into hiring his boy, I realized the true value of being on the fringe. Objectivity and clarity. I sat there listening as if from behind a glass wall. And I sat there with an emotion that can best be described as sadness.

He was a self professed non-fashion person who happened to be in fashion. He believed once that he was objective and could see through the plastic façade of the people he faced every day. But as I looked at his new and improved chosen list of friends, I realized that even as he claimed otherwise, he is surrounded by people who were more into their own pectorals and their skin care regime than the state of the world. He was surrounded by people who would not mind getting close to him, in order to establish a semblance of trust, for he could offer them jobs.

I didn¹t offer his discovery the job. Not because he was not good or not absolutely gorgeous. But because the project had its own set of requirements. The decision could not absolutely be one of personal taste. For to do so would be to disregard duty, your clearest marker of knowing whether or not you are on the right path.

The person I chose in the end performed well. And frankly he validated my decision by proving the baloney I heard as falsehoods. That made me feel proud. Happily, he was also more than just his skin, with interests that stretched into marine biology (!!!!). Conversations with him I am sure would be interesting to say the least. But the opportunities would be few and far in between since we are both in different spheres of existence. That is what you get for being on the outside looking in. You get involved but never are involved.

I guess I will always be like that: on the fringe. Perhaps that is best, so no one can pigeon hole me. But in assessing what had happened, I guess I am now in the bag marked as last season's friends when it comes to my acquaintance. But who knows, with the way things change all the time in the industry, I might end up being the brightest star in next season's crop of goodies.

Just A Thought.

Creative.

A creative mind is a strange and wonderful thing. It gets its inspiration
and motivation from the most unlikely of sources. But when it is coupled
with a dream and an instinct, magic can happen.

Jim Henson did it. George Lucas did it. Walt Disney did it.

A creative mind does not let traditional inhibitors, such as time and money
distract them. It is like the mind of a child, constantly seeking challenges, constantly seeking answers. Pure. They see benefits in both tangible and intangible ways, and sometimes these cannot be seen by the naked eye until some time down the road. Why?

A true creative mind generates, and that energy comes from a source. That source is a vision. And the vision is never negative in nature. Vision is impossible to put a price tag on. It is something that allows the world to see and do things in a different light. It challenges perspectives, and constantly aims to do better.

Someone had a vision to fly. Someone cut his ear off in the pursuit of his
vision.

Creative thinkers can be brought down by office and sexual politics, lack
of support and growth etc. And there are always skeptics and realists who
use commandments, rules and logical equations to trap the creative mind.
Hoping to use it to their advantage, to hone it, to mould it the way they
want it. They want to have it without having to understand it, and more
importantly to respect it, and in doing so are killing the very thing they
want to harness.

Exploration of ideas are crucial to creative purists who are constantly
seeking that exacting moment of their own spiritual immortality. The
process always yields beauty, but the end result always brings in glory.

Successful people will repeat a single mantra: If you can dream it, you can
make it happen.

And when you do, the people who have put obstacles in your path suddenly become insignificant and those who assist become martyrs.

Just A Thought.....

Mahligai: An Asian Love Story

Set in the mythical kingdom of IndraPurba hidden somewhere in the jungles of early 1800s Borneo, this love story takes on epic proportions where customs and traditions, spirituality and superstition rule amidst the splendour of gold and precious stones.

The story begins over twenty-five years earlier. A woman falls in love with a commoner but is forced to give up her relationship to fulfil a prearranged destiny of marrying the future Sultan of IndraPurba. The man is taken away and incarcerated for the duration of his life for daring to court the future ruler’s intended. The man eventually dies of a broken heart. The woman swears that once she becomes Permaisuri, or the Queen, no one will endure the same fate of pre-arranged loveless marriage as her.

But as the years went by, and memories faded to a misty blur, the newly enthroned Sultan and Permaisuri set aside the past they could not control and ruled the kingdom with love and compassion, often lavishing their subjects with grand mass celebrations where gold dust would literally rain from their palace onto the streets below.

Ten years after their ascension to the throne, and after numerous failures to produce a child, the prayers of the soothsayers and the entire kingdom were answered and a beautiful daughter was borne to the Royal Couple. They named her Putri Sakti, appropriate as it literally means Magical Princess, a gift from the Gods.
Putri was indeed a special child, as she seemed to emanate a divine glow previously unseen before. Streams and rivers would sing as they bathed her, jungle creepers would entwine themselves to form shelter wherever she walked beneath them.

The Sultan was so happy that he commissioned a new Palace, a Mahligai to be built in the image of her beauty. It was to be grander than any other palaces past Sultans have built and it would be a monument dedicated to Love. It was an incredible feat of marble and jewels to accomplish but the Sultan insisted that it should be finished by her twenty-first birthday.

As she reached her twentieth year of life, her parents knew that the time would come for her to be married and promptly looked for a suitable partner in the kingdom.

But the coming of a passing traveler, an adventurer who chanced upon the kingdom when he strayed off the path his expedition was on, changed the tide of contentment. John Fenton was a handsome man, a mixed breed of European and Asian blood, a look that was unique if not out of the ordinary in one race, one language, one religion IndraPurba. And for this reason of uniqueness, and for many more, Putri found herself falling in love with this man who stumbled upon her while bathing in a pond filled with flowers.

The love they developed was beautiful and pure. A kind of love that no other could possible imagine nor understand; that is, no one other than Putri’s mother, whom when young too suffered the pleasures and pain of a forbidden love. Her memories returned, this time sharper than if they were to have just happened.

When the Sultan discovered their secret affair, initial sadness turned to anger as the soothsayers told him that the man was not from the kingdom but worse still was a breed lower than the lowest caste in IndraPurba. He therefore deemed the blood that ran in the man’s body to be dirty and impure, unworthy of his daughter’s affection nor the family inheritance and lineage. The anger turned to rage when it was discovered that Putri was with child. New of this was kept within palace walls.

He sent his palace guards to seek him out, in spite of the desperate pleas of both the Permaisuri and Putri. The soothsayers wrongly accused the man to be the illegitimate child of the man the Permaisuri loved as a young woman. A false sense of betrayal set in, as if the past had returned to haunt him for a crime he never committed, the crime of intentionally taking away someone else’s love. Realising that he had never fully gotten the love of his wife, the Sultan turned his anger towards John and ordered him to be impaled and hung outside the palace gates. Putri begged for his life but to no avail. But in deference to his daughter’s tears he chose a seemingly more humane way of killing: death by a cocktail of the combined poisons of the most deadly insects found in all the land, prepared by the ever present soothsayers.

John’s and Putri’s love was strong and they swore that it would survive any cruelty that the world could offer. The Permaisuri decided to use her influence to overturn the Sultan’s orders of barring Putri anywhere near the dungeons, and help her gain access to him. Realising that their time on this world was short, all they could do was to share a moment of bitter silence. Putri then told John that it was not without reason that their love was allowed by the Gods to happen, and it was with purpose that their love was to be subjected to the cruelest test known: forced separation. But even as her tears fell onto John’s cheeks as she held him in her arms, she told him that separation was not eternal for their love would surely show them a way back to each other. In her arms, John died.

When the Sultan heard of his wife’s actions, he cried treachery. And as punishment for disobeying his word, he banished Putri to the highest tower of the Palace.

The Permaisuri, stripped of her powers, swore that true love would conquer all and the Sultan and the soothsayers would not be the true victors. The soothsayers had after all made false claims before. Fearing that the Permaisuri might turn against them, they laid another claim that she often visited the spirit of her former lover in her dreams, something she could not deny as she could not control sometimes dreaming of their youth together. Outraged, the Sultan turned against her and ordered her banished into the outer regions of the kingdom. She was so distraught of her daughter’s fate as well as that of her own that she flung herself over a high waterfall, causing the water to turn white as it mixed with her own blood.

When news of this reached the Kingdom, the subjects were uncertain of how to react. How could water turn white? Did this signify that the Permaisuri was innocent of the accusations? How can their beloved Sultan allow these events to happen? They turned their anger towards the nearly completed Mahligai, for the very symbol of love no longer seemed to retain any meaning.

Much of the monument was destroyed, all the years of toil was put to an end within a day. The Palace guards could do little to stop the destruction. The Sultan managed to appease his people eventually but a gloom had befallen the kingdom.

From the tower, Putri could see what was left of the Mahligai. Her father, unrepentant, refused to allow her to leave the tower until after the child is born, after which he intended to throw it into the same river his wife died in. He wanted a new beginning where his daughter would marry a man of his choice, thereby appeasing his subjects even more. He was in fact so confident of his plan that he chose a handsome man, one of his ministers’ sons who was popular with the people, to be the betrothed.

But Putri no longer had the will to exist. And on her twenty-first birthday, she gave birth. As her daughter emerged, Putri relinquished her life force and her strength to her. Her father could not do anything to stop his own daughter from giving up. For even as he had power over the lives of his subjects, he had no control of human will.
As her life slowly drained from her body, Putri could feel the presence of her mother and her lover. She kissed her newly born daughter and named her Mahligai, as she wanted all to understand that the true Palace of Love was not something made of marble and jewels, but a child that is conceived out of true love. Her daughter bore the combined features of the Permaisuri, John and herself, was thusly the living Mahligai of Love.

Word spread. The kingdom stood still in awe of this child. For her existence marked a new beginning for all.

No one really knew what happened to the Sultan afterwards, nor of the meddlesome soothsayers. All the people of IndraPurba would say, when the colonists finally discovered the isolated kingdom, was “Seindahnya cinta Putri Mahligai!” or “How Great the Love of Princess Mahligai!”.

The End