Friendship Poem

This piece is written to describe my utmost appreciation to my ensemble of close and life-loving friends. You colour my life in ways unimaginable to man.


(outside Versailles main lake)

Lotus on water, beaming its beauty on still liquid,
Shamelessly gracious petals in the grip of sunlight
Exquisite portrait this flower,its scent unapologetic
Faithful combat warriors have always been at my side.

Cold or shivers you may tuck me into,
My friends will always find me warmth
True bond has no name or intro
Shining light we have sought in every slump

I hungrily move on to the next level
Mourning in grim is never for long temps
Misery mongers attack your energy, your mental
My state of mind does not register your foul attempts

The sheer white of lilies pattern my world
Memories in Guetta lyricism sticks to my mind
The quick changing lover is this girl
Pouncing forward, I left nothing behind

Shocked in stoic glee and euphoria
My stubborn heart affixed to constant thrills
Accepting myself is the biggest phenomena
Imagination definitely had done justice to this.

(watching bike-riders crossing the massive lakeside)

second-hand wisdom

u feel rescued+free. then reality settles in.

shaken and stirred, u lie helpless in agony. numbed.

your sanity in check. kill or get killed.

people around you are busy ignoring you as you grow unimportant.

cars skid in your direction, teasing your existence as if it doesn't matter anymore. your eyes say it all. you want the passion to fuel your days again but it is too late.

the game has ended long ago, leaving you breathless and old.

Rough rough start

After the excruciating experience I endured in the beginning of the year, the problems kept flowing in. However the physical pain can never measure up to the spiritual bang up I received couple of weeks after. My roomate decided to kick me out. On one rude morning, as I was scrubbing my teeth, she asked me how long I am planning to stay, and told me that she wants the room to herself.

The childish 25 year-old law student has gotten her daddy wrapped around her pinky. Her father is serving the United Nations again after a long hiatus. So financially she is secured because her dad can spent more on her crib.

But maybe I should just thank her for being kind for actually ensuring that I am able to walk again before kicking me out. Bravo.

I refused to make any eye contact or have any bit of conversation with her because I was just too frustrated with her sudden change of mind. I rented the place 6 months ago and supposed to leave after the 2nd, but she insisted that I stay on until May, which is practically a collective 12 months.

But instead of 12 months im getting kicked out on the 6th month. Call it the spoilt child or spoilt bitch syndrome, maybe the change of environment is better for me.

Someone is indeed watching over me

Somehow I managed to get another two days of medical leave and this resulted in me getting enough rest so that I could recover fully. My left part of the torso drew a shade of deep purple complexion due to the bruises. Yay, purple! One of my fave colours.
But seriously. It was ridiculous of the doctors to expect a recovery in just two days. I went to the temple and yes, it was pouring cats and dogs that evening. I decided to stop by and say hi to Him. I knew it has been long overdue for a visit, to the point that even my Chinese physician chided me to drag my less-pious behind to go to temple. And so I did. To that famous Mariamman temple at Tun HS Lee road. Yup, the one opposite to Reggae Bar. Twice.
I did not wish for anything, in fact it was just there to say Hello.
I loved the feeling you get in a temple. With the exquisite drawings and magnificent usage of pastoral hues. It eases your mind and somehow I felt that I was welcomed there.
Next day, I went to work. My sick holidays were over. The moment I showed up, people were interested in knowing what happen to me. They were being genuinely nice to me. (let me check the weather update and let you know if hell has frozen over). I wasn't selected for any assignments that day because the editors weren't sure of whether I was fit enough.
That evening, my writer friend Sarah asked me out to a play at the Actor's Studio in Lot 10. It's called 'Someone's Watching Over Me.'Two accomplished Caucasian actors and one Malaysian actor whom I have heard of, "Gavin Yap".
It is about an American, Englishman and Irish who were captured by the Lebanese troops. Gavin Yap played the American, and a convincing one, I must add.They were imprisoned in a windowless dungeon. These prisoners held tight to their sanity. The props were simple. A big rock with shackles tied to it and to the prisoners' ankles. Oh, not forgetting a pillow and mattress for each prisoner. The thing that really surprised me is the curses in the script towards the Arabs. The auditorium was filled with hijab-endorsing Malays as well as whities. I hope no repercussions of the name-calling verses in Someone is Watching Over Me emerge later in the Malaysian online forum.

Option One

Okay I have no assignments at the office and the editors aren't in yet, which is why I am blogging profusely. The beauty of blogging is that you get to talk smack about any human being in the world and express your heart to the fullest.

See, I have this thing where I can eloquently express what I am thinking right now and not risk over or under-doing it because I have a gift for words. All words. I can properly choose the phrases and words to aptly fill in the void in which only my heart understands.

I believe that all people have this enigmatic thought called a fairytale dream. They believe that only them can live a fairytale life and the others should suffer in hell. Do not get me wrong, I am not having a bad day at the office;this has just been in my mind for a long time now.

Whether you are studying or just working a regular office job, there is no denying that there is such a theory. A theory so strong that I do not hesitate to invest time to write a book about it. I call it the "Option Two" theory. It is where that an individual believes that shall not be liven to the fullest. You should always be at first gear.

Now I have serious thoughts of joining a bigger news agency. A worldwide based news agency which is based at a nearer location as compared to the current one I am in now. The situation is the only win-win scenario I can think of. Therefore "Option One" is taken. Why do people not believe in "Option One?'

I always thought I am way to old to be in Option One. I am 24. I have not traveled much, apart from the fact that I have studied thousands of miles away from home in Borneo. I do believe that I have acquired invaluable experience in the form of observation and self study. I love books. In university, the library is my favourite place. I actually go to the library to unwind.

Okay back to the main topic of me considering Option One. A) I do not have to move to Petaling Jaya in March when my office relocates. B) Hell, this offer is wayyyy bigger than my current one. It is global. And I believe that belong in some place international. Kuala Lumpur is amazing and global to some point.

Heck this is my opportunity to shine,right?

And knowing me, you should expect something outlandish such as an Option Three,me moving to a Southern European nation to seek asylum. Lol seeking asylum. That's cute. That's Latin for running away?

Ok ok. Here I am watching the news in the news agency that I am working for and KNOWING that I can do better than the ugly coyote at the monitor. So, am I not at the monitor. A) my face is invaded with blemishes and this quashed my confidence completely. B) The first day that I came to work at this office, the fucken bitches have taken an animosity rampage on me, with no fucken idea why.

It's PAYBACK bitches!

I met Mr Wright

Ian Wright. What can I say? The man is a sweetheart, a joker and we know him most as being the world's most famous traveler and I get the pleasure of interviewing him when he was in Kuala Lumpur two weeks ago. The 44 year old is indeed the reason why I decided to go through being a journalist. The "Invite Mr. Right" host has quite a lot under his belt as a traveler. He has traveled so many countries it is almost unimaginable that I could have had the pleasure of meeting him.

In Subang Parade/ Selangor. 14.38..I saw the Canon promo which featured Ian and I was getting ready to go in for a casual rendezvous and proceed with the planned interview. Things comes to a twist when my cameraman reveals that he has forgotten to pack the microphone. I had to clutch to the one-tonne (or at least it felt that much) tripod and heavy duty camera whilst my fickle cameraman finds a substitute microphone at the mall.

I waited at the crowded mall with virtually all passers-by by staring at me and I waited for at least one hour. Ian had wrapped up the show and currently is having lunch at Dome's. I managed to talk up a deal with his reps and had a little chat with dear-old Mr Wright before the interview for the cameras.

He said that the show was actually quite big in Asia and he is famous in this part of the world then elsewhere. Then, when I told him that I have been a fan of his since I was 14, he said thank u for reminding him of how old he actually is.

Then before the interview began, he obliged a photo op with the owner of the mall aka a big shot with too much fame and money, he turned around, looked at me and said 'i wont be long'. Damn, i wish i knew how to react better to comments which he spontaneously throws out at me.

When I asked Ian Wright what is the best travel tip that one can receive from a noted traveler like himself, he said "Go ahead and buy a ticket without thinking too much about it. Plan the trip later." The funny thing is, I did exactly that the week before. I didnt tell Ian Wright that I impulsively bought a ticket to Paris for 2011 just because I wanted to travel. Hmmm.

Turtle truth

Damn, bloody news agency behaves as if it is Al-Jazeera minus the quality and actual talent. Exactly one month working here and I found the stench of typical Malaysian politicking in the office is in order. The award goes to the most outlandish looking queers that are men and, the screeching vocals of common bitches. Hence, the world of backstabbing, pretentious friendships and a love for meek-bullying goes on proudly as we placid beings hope for a beam of light in the darkness.

Why negativity is better than optimism

Too much of optimism would be bad for your health---now that is one thing you may not find in health journals. If you think that the world is a nice and happy place, you are way off your delusional chariot my friend. Every year we get older.

For women, this is the epitome of slipping down to what gravity does to you, it pulls you back down. Your face gets uglier, your wayward hips goes uncontrollably disobedient to your womanly structure and your hormones gets you worked up all the time.

Sure I find it relishing because not that i get wiser, i think that it brings me farther from my childhood. The dichotomy in the same individual is amazing. I managed to transform myself from the inward stuck-in-my own world nerd, to an extrovert who was ready to take on the world, much ado with my physical appearance and confidence.

Unfortunately i have a friend which reminds me of my past, because she is part of the lost world--that's how i label my childhood 'the lost world'. She has morphed into a backward old-fashioned misfit which i have no control over and reminds me of the dark ages. I cannot be unattached from this person because she shares my space now and is a constant repellent to my improvement.

Now with my ever-ready confidence shattered plus a dream job which inundates the 'so near yet so far' situation aptly implemented to my current life, there is no telling which side will win.

News Agency prides on accuracy--bt cant even spell my five-lettered name correctly!

It is been a long time since i let it all out. Where to begin, oh, wherever should i begin to contemplate my enormous heart-ache over the ever-so-maniacal goings on in my life. I know this is pretty selfish to be yammering on non-stop about myself, but hey, this IS my blog isnt it? Darn it, i will use up all my nonverbal strength to eloquently describe my agony over these past few weeks.

About a month ago, with tremendous relief, I resigned from an insanely-high paying position in a Singaporean bank because I just cannot wrap my head around the job scope. First of all, I have no background or interest in finance. The second reason was that I know that I have talents in other areas, the field of study which i enrolled into three years ago--communications. I was dead set on quitting my job regardless of whether I had another job in line.

I had previously applied, auditioned and was shortlisted on a position in a news agency hence reminding me of the only reason on why i moved to the big city in the first place. After the whole saga of interviews and no response from this television network, i moved on. I landed a banking offer and got through. After a couple of weeks of complete obliviousness of how tough the job is, I was stressing out. I started to smoke more regularly and started to eat chocolates. I have a skin allergy to nuts and blemishes began to appear on my face. I attended my graduation in borneo looking like shrek. With all the tension built inside of me, i began to digest other plausible alternatives.

To my delight, the same news agency called me a few times while i was still bonded by the bank and asked me to come over for an interview. Enforcing my amazing hidden acting talents, i faked a medical leave from a panel clinic and went to see the other potential job offer. Instead of an interview, they hired me on the spot, and told me to come in as a broadcast journalist. Now this is the dream which i endorsed myself endlessly as a teenager up to the time in university. This is it. This is my calling.

Of course then reality splashed its cold waters over my daydreams of one day becoming the most incredible news anchor in the world~ muahahahaha (evil laughter soundbite)! The management at this agency was shoddy and well, mismanaged. The CEO was a youngish big shot who had recently bought the company without prior experience in the broadcasting industry. Upon chance, I tried to say hello to this arrogant sonofabitch a couple of times when he brushed past me as if i was a life-size cardboard.

The so-called editors at the editorial desks cannot seem to even spell my name right.Mind u, these are people who pride themselves of being impeccably accurate and precise to a dot. My name is Dhipa and these mofos spell it Dhilpa. Despite having to correct them and introducing myself as DHIPA, they continued the stupid spell of ignorance. Its not a very hard to spell my name. Its not a Russian or a German name which has more consonants within balance. It is a perfectly-given Sanskriti name for a humble Hindu devotee like me. But what did i get...Dhilpa. A name that comes close to Shilpa Shetty. Which brings me to the next god-awful element of the workplace i now call a meat freezer.

There are people in the vicinity, typically in the production partition which are completely arrogant and obnoxious. They do not have eye contact with you. They gang up and create nonsensical epilogues amongst themselves, disregarding others in the office. Rudeness at its highest form.

Sure the bank was a friendly place to work in and they had an extremely systematic work ethic plus amazing co-workers, but the job scope was immensely out of my league. I used to moan and bitch everyday for release of retained misery. On the other hand, the broadcasting journalism gig is wonderful. I found complete escalation of job satisfaction each time I move on to an assigned task.

Unfortunately, the management is badly-maintained. There is less-than-adequate cooperation between the cameracrew, technicians, graphic designers, production and journalist. For an example, I knew I had a sure thing lined up for me when i recently attended an open house at a lavish setting. All the incumbent politician were present and I handled the coverage pretty well, provided with a cameraman who has served NatGeo and has a professional experience of 13 years under his belt. I was anxious to get back to the office to type out this guaran-damn-teed hot news. Nothing i could do when i found the footage completely unusable because the tape was defective. Nothing salvageable from that event and I had lost a key story.

My frustration with the inevitable was on a spree that week. The next day, I found myself on an exciting assignment to produce a write-up on a 118 year-old Norwegian vessel. The next thing i know, the cameraman informed me that there was no petrol in the company car and that if i could get money for the petrol, then he can go. If the old man would tell me the unfortunate news sooner, i would have quickly arranged some sort of a negotiable solution.

Pissed to the very core because this would be the dozenth time i was faced with tardiness of other people, my facial expression displayed my thoughts at the time. In the minds of the passers-by, they are sure to conclude that reporters are very arrogant, not knowing the predicament i was in.

As the times go by, I feel tired from all the constant worrying. Sure, I married the job that I was crazy about. But doing it, is a full time, well, job--hehe. I have absolutely nobody who could relate to my situation at this point. Mind you I have friends, family and complete strangers to talk to. None could understand me, because I am who I am. There is no simple solution for just one problem.

If it weren't for the fact that people do not have eternity, I believe I should share some interesting points and climaxes of my life.