The Dhipa Show

Friendship Poem

2012-01-15T22:15:00.007+08:00

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

2011-10-27T00:32:00.001+08:00

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

2011-01-27T19:20:00.002+08:00

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

2011-01-10T11:26:00.005+08:00

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

2010-12-08T09:12:00.003+08:00

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

2010-12-08T08:55:00.007+08:00

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

2010-12-08T08:49:00.002+08:00

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

2010-11-20T21:50:00.003+08:00

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!

2010-11-20T20:41:00.006+08:00

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.

2010-11-17T08:35:00.002+08:00

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.

2010-11-12T13:24:00.001+08:00

The journey begins here as I pull up my ill-equipped laptop and began to huff and puff at the world's never ending woes. The greatest of dreams do come true. :-)

WOOF WOOF.

2010-11-12T13:18:00.002+08:00

I may sound like a pissed off swedish mam, but hey i gotta vent out some place rite?
What happened to go old countrymen love? Where are the times when we can get along with everyone no matter how tough things get?

A newbie's cries I assume. First they have the hardest time spelling my name the way that it was given to me at birth. Then I have to act happy all day even though. I need time out. I can't work seven days a week. This is considered overworking rite? Cant I complaint to some union of disgruntled new staff? The expected salary that I quoted was too freakin low.

I guess I would need to get other ways of motivating thyself. HuHUU

2010-10-17T11:26:00.002+08:00

Pretentious people all around me, I cannot understand why I cant go out on my way without having another person trying to compare to whatever that I was implying at. The best way to deal with this ppl is to just ignore them upright. However this will cause tension at the working place because as humans we are not equipped with emotional detachment.
My daily job requires me to not take the attacks personally and I am still in training yet I feel the anticipation is digging deeper into the days of which I have to penetrate through

Hummus with Lebanese Bread + Lemon Chill

2010-07-11T17:14:00.006+08:00

I love Lebanese food. No questions asked. One day, I sort of dropped by Dome's KLCC for Lunch. Then I ordered the Lemon Chill, a tall glass of lemonade; and Hummus, which is an authentically Arabic dish with thick chickpea paste. Being a chick on the peas, this Lebanese enthusiast was not all excited about the taste of the hummus served here. The blend was really bland and although thick,the tinge of the different ingredients refuse to meet my taste bud. Well maybe I made the wrong turn of going into a Western-concept restaurant, hoping them to deliver what was supposed to be a marvelously wine and dine Lebanese cuisine. RM27.40 down the loo, sob sob.

Vietnamese Spring Rolls with Thai Sauce

2010-07-11T16:47:00.006+08:00

As I was searching for a place to have a big breakfast, I stumbled upon a Malay-style restaurant inside KLCC called Aseana. As I browsed through the menu, there were various traditional delicacies listed including Nasi Lemak, Curry Puff and other nice choices for the Malaysian at heart.
I decided to try my luck on the Vietnamese Spring Rolls with Spicy Thai Sauce. Rest assured. It was spicy to the core. The combination of the rolls, or as we Malaysians so lovingly call it "popiya" is a rolled-up hard crispy thin dough with the stuffing of bean-sprouts, chili and potatoes. The Thai sauce was magnificent and cuts the rolls to a stinging after-taste.
Unless you aren't a bravado, do not attempt to try this dish! As far as I am concerned, it was superb. I managed to gulp down only three of the six rolls. They were quite filling. Try Aseana in KLCC Ground Floor for this lovely serving of chili extravaganza!

Kg BAru Soto Ayam

2010-06-30T14:27:00.005+08:00

In the midst of the bustling city centre, Kg Baru's Soto Ayam sounded like an interesting option for lunch. In one of the plentiful Malay stalls all around Kg Baru, my colleagues and I decided to chance on a meal that I have yet to lend my tantalizing buds to work on. The Soto Ayam, or Chicken Soto.
The soto is actually shredded chicken, garnished in bean sprouts,rice dumplings and fried-brown small onions and it is served in a soup-dish. The catch of the day is the ground chill paste which is meant to be added to the entire dish.
Colleagues chose fried meehoon over the classic soto, and one even threw up due to its stinging spicy serving.
As for I, the spiciness did not alter the taste of the soto, however, I was filled to the point of unrest, to the point of unbuttoning my pants (don't worry, it was not crowded with customers).

Palm Cafe, Chinatown

2010-06-06T19:51:00.006+08:00

Residing in the heart of KL would mean that you bump into tourists all day long, witness to the curb-crawling traffic congestion and my favourite, having a variety of Asian cuisines to choose from.

There has been a long battle on deciding which is my favourite food of all times; Cantonese or Lebanese.Sure one is oriental and the other is Mediterranean, but the two are so diverse in preparation that deciding on one, would be almost the same as picking out your favourite child.

For dinner tonight, I had one of my all time Chinese food which is Wanton Noodle Soup. Since a very young age, I decided that this was definitely one of my top fives.

The ingredients includes fried yellow noodles, pork chops, pork balls and fresh vegetable. I had the pleasure of taking away one at RM 4.90 tonight and boy, and it sent my taste buds to Kowloon again. Except I was at Chinatown, KL in a restaurant called Palm Cafe.

Compared to the other smoke-rendering food stalls, this one looked a little more classy. The impression that I had was that this joint was almost non-Chinese as the ambiance adopted a far more Western decor. The taste of the dishes somehow changed that.

Palm Cafe in Chinatown KL has done what no other Chinese eateries failed to do (or at least when I became a patron) is that it served fresh yet yummy vegetables! It did taste really....fresh and exuberant unlike other eating outlets. Kudos.

Ants live better

2010-06-04T15:03:00.002+08:00

Stoicism is the silencer of pain, the only thing that I can embrace at the moment because I cannot think of any other approaches to cope with a person's death. The woman who spent her entire life being subservient and docile yet strong and persistent. Endurance and consistency are her two relentless strong points.

Lee Richard, Stephen King's paperback baby would have agreed that Zeno is a great teacher of coping with saddening events. The women in war-torn countries resort to snorting cocaine to bury their over-bearing emotions. Imagine that these conservative Muslim women in the burqah and veil outfits sneaking cocaine three or four times a day inside their loose-fitting clothes. Not only women, their under-nourished children are instilled into the unnatural habit.

Saudi women drink to drown their sorrow to the point of dying from it. Life is never tolerant and people have different perspective on the meaning of life. I have not found a meaning as to what an individual is supposed to achieve. I always think that we are generally the most intelligent form of existence placed here on earth. That is all we are, smart. Compared to ants, maybe we are not.

Imagine living your life as an ant. You collect food for the queen and then you have your own little share. Sometimes you are safe and sometimes you do not make it. Whatever it is, you live according to the system which is set for you by the society, no escaping it.

Lineage of steel

2010-06-04T14:26:00.004+08:00

The word solemn is definitely not a word to be taken for granted anymore. After the passing of a woman who never knew the meaning of giving up, raising an entire family after the death of her self-possessed husband, the scantly-educated woman became the reason why death is not feared anymore.

She was hooked to a dozen feeding tubes and at one point even had to be unwillingly strapped to the arm rests of her hospital bed. The woman became inconceivably selfish when she began to stop eating, hoping to reach heaven as soon as possible so that she would not have to burden her children anymore. She was too weak to even have a dialysis treatment, It was heart-wrenching to watch her breathe forcefully with the respiratory system attached and inserted through her nostrils and her shoulder bones heaving so unnaturally.

It is hard for me to understand the meaning of life any longer. I am for one, is unafraid to die anymore. I have seen the suffering of this woman who bored my mother.

Her funeral opened my eyes on what an impact subtlety has on people. The visitors on the night of her wake were comprised of a majority of Malays and a handful of Chinese neighbours. My grandma lived and raised her family in a largely Malay oriented village. Even my mother said that the gathering truly epitomized the concept of 'Muhibbah" or loosely translated, harmony.

The tiny female body, barely reaching the height of four-nine has left a great effect on everybody surrounding her.

When I looked into the face-visible casket, she looked as if she was asleep. It is strange that my eyes would well up in tears and I would sob profusely just thinking about her death, but i was able to control my over-active emotions during the ceremony because all the while I managed to convince myself that she was having a good night's rest. After the burial, in the five hour journey back home, I proceeded to weep uncontrollably again.

Again, what I cannot comprehend is that how much of steel she had inside as she braced herself through the good and the bad. Towards the end of her life, she was growing senile and became extremely forgetful. On her death bed, her youngest son, another amazing character, persuaded her to hold on and promised to take her back to Penang. The little lady let go of her breathe knowing that she is going home.

In my shattered heart, I know that she has finally reached the place she was born, raised and meant to be in; Sungai Tiram.The modest but spacious home provided nothing but peace. Her love for animal is unconditional and she was a humanitarian.

When three Chinese neighbours came in at roughly 12.20 midnight, clasped their hand together and paid respect, I knew that I am lucky to be her granddaughter, related to her by blood; her daughter's daughter. A direct lineage of the bravest little woman I have ever knew.

2010-05-27T10:03:00.002+08:00

She was much younger than other entrepreneurs but she knew what she wanted. The intensity of her adamant genes is shown through her constant tantrums. The big shots hated her mood-swings but thrived at the results of her performance. Just last week alone, Mega Corp earned 234 billion krone's from the Danish international branch. Corporate executives did not realize the Danes were a huge fan of raspberry jams. Yes, the company exports a variety of jams to Europe and South America.
Miss Daniels was an imperative part of this fierce conglomerate that has a gargantuan line of twenty thousand plus employees including the team of its world renown advertising team.

Miss Daniels has no reservations in proving her monstrous appetite for success and recognition for good work.Her relentless pursuits for massive projects involving tricky business strategies was one of her ultimate faves. The plain-faced 35 year-old was rarely the light of the party at any occasions.

Falling victim to past boyfriend with flawless ex girlfriend, she is subdued with the persistent comparison to the impossibly attainable beauty of her exes' ex flames. The woman is no ugly duckling, in fact she has been told that her body was some what a curvaceous Athenian demigoddess-like, almost perfect in vital statistics.

However she is made felt inferior to the anorexic types which some men seem to adore. She loved men but hated them as well. Everything about the women has to be in detailed perfection but the same cannot be said for the men that these women date.

After being screwed for one too many times, she finally gave up on the idea for the ideal man. HE does not exist. Anything close to decent is hardly found in the city these days without the insulation of male-chauvinism. That is how Ms Daniels is wired. Experience has taught her that men are all the same and they practice double standards to some extent at the end of the day.

2010-05-27T09:57:00.001+08:00

my search for the truth is endless. It should be. If you tire on life, you tire on energy that will effect your performance in anything which you have the potential to be excellent at.

2010-05-27T09:30:00.002+08:00

There are so many occasions where I wished that life would have an alternative perspective from what i have seen from television and other sorts of media. Apparently there is nothing to life. You work, you live and then you succumbed to what comes naturally to everything;non-existence. How you choose to be remembered as is never a surety that you are able to ascertain.
Things may seem as if they are in control but the matter is that, it is really the opposite. We should live and love life. Stop thinking about what other people are constantly thinking about because God blessed us with our own individual personalities.
We are oblivious towards what the future will bring, hell i am not liable to what happens to me after to

poetress

2010-05-24T11:01:00.002+08:00

Shamans are here living between our fingers
Ready to pop our luck and sometimes they are truly senseless
No remedy is needed to heal the wounds in the soul
they exist in our karma and in the next life, will bring us gold
lie low with guilt for outlandish decision
the mirror of monstrosity of people in competition
rarely have i had the time to keep count
the scores of shame and various foul

lately

2010-05-24T10:50:00.002+08:00

the greatest thing about the universe is that we all live in the same universe but we have our own personal universe in our heads. No one can explain in thorough the extent of how this 'universe' works but there is a benchmark of display.

Sometimes i think other people start to look for ways of expanding their individual universes. I think I am ripe with mine. Things are only going to go downhill from here onwards. U must have a sense of accomplishment in whatever that u do, or else u would be walking on a rope with no end. U will get tired, rope-burns on ur soles and also the dim light of hope in achieving anything solid.

No one can expect what can happen tomorrow. That is the grotesque part on living as an animated object. U move u breathe u feel. None of it matters when ur breath stops tomorrow.

U should always hold something back but never hold ur future in your own hands. God has that responsibility and he plays it well.

2010-04-11T22:07:00.003+08:00

2010-04-11T22:04:00.002+08:00

2010-04-11T22:01:00.003+08:00

2010-04-11T22:00:00.003+08:00

My first and only dance on a live stage performance, ever!!

2009-11-13T17:11:00.011+08:00

Last semester's Ponggal Nite performances proved to be a blast, even better than the year before. Mind you, I was the host for the previous Ponggal Show. I remember that I could not find the time to properly get the act together due to lack of time and availability to coordinate dance moves with my partner, she was engaged with three other performances!

I did it anyways, with my heart beating faster than tabla beats!
I have basic background in belly dancing so it helped with the swaying movements and many people either liked it or hated the entire thing. Some people simply loved it because it was sexy and some painfully hated it because it was sexy! All in all, everybody agreed that it was far too sensual and slightly provocative to be displayed on stage.

To be the Malaysian Shakira for one night has nothing on these idiots' presumptuous ignorant values. Well anyways my partner choreographed the entire show. To my defense, the steps suited the track.

miri

2009-11-11T00:30:00.005+08:00

The trip to Miri was an astoundingly elongated and its winding route simulated an extreme rally race track. The mountainous outback of the roads of the rural side is a relatively fresh experience for an urbanite like me. I have never spent 14 hours continuously on a bus before; in fact I don’t think there is a 14-hour express travel time required in Peninsular Malaysia. Kuala Kedah to Masai only took 12. However so, the agenda that was initially the reason behind the whole trip was to provide motivation to secondary school students before the major SPM and STPM exams. The facility at the school was expectedly limited which forces the 60-something guests from University Malaysia Sarawak to accommodate the music lab for two nights. After organizing grueling orientation sessions, the ice was broken and the students became attached to us. Many of them were in tears at the moment we all left the school.

We then headed to Lambir National Park, outside of Miri town. The vicinity is well-taken care of and a good 2 hours of hiking is needed before we reached the waterfalls at the top. The beauty and gleaming streams of uncontaminated water is a reminder of the indispensible treasure that Borneo encompasses. The park was swarming with foreign tourists who were looking for good adventurous fun.
The caves in the Niah Caves are incredibly ancient as indicated in the tools that prehistoric humans used to fetch fruits at great heights.
All in all, the beauty of the paradise in Borneo truly took my breath away. The greatest view from of the Niah Caves was from the top of the stalagmitic giant rocks. At the point in time, I felt closer to God and took in His marvelous works of environmental design to divert my attention from a rather heartbreaking news I received at the time.

Strawberry is Dhip

2009-09-15T17:35:00.000+08:00

Like the sweet yogurt in a strawberry smoothie
I feel heavy and dazed in a pink frenzy
I love the way u look at me
Each time that u choose to greet me
I hear your voice, telling me it’s all gonna be okay
I see you smile, not knowing how I feel inside
The drain of energy,
The infinite vortex of conscious blindness
The blatant ignorance of humankind
Swooping in via popular culture
The real meaning in life forgotten
The real destiny of your soul mistaken
Materialistic goals and golden dreams
Beautiful women as goddesses
Chauvinistic males as husbands
The earth is young, synthetic is real
Our minds are withered with emptiness
I want to be saved but my savior is me
I want to be loved but my lover can’t be trusted
I want to bleed inside and suffer the endemic pain
A diversion from the bloody vision outside
You are like chocolate pie with every conversation
Strong and cultured, you have no third dimension
Albeit generous in love and devotion
The taste of sweetness is flawed with love

We are powerless

2009-08-03T14:52:00.003+08:00

It is absolutely heart-breaking when you find people that you love getting older and their problems heighten to new levels. I love my family and relatives and friends... but it seems that day by day, things go downhill...sure financial and materialistic ambitions are not far, but i do not feel the pleasures of living. I had an interesting conversation with a friend who majors in chemistry and she threw the hard facts on radiation and unwanted preservatives in our daily food intake.
The three in one mix sachets of coffee, malt drinks, and even milk are actually dangerous. They contain strong chemical which help preserve taste, aroma and basic ingredients. You could compare the difference when you brew a cup of coffee and notice that the smell is not as strong as the three in ones. Even fruits and veges are soaking in pesticides.
It seems that everything in this world goes downhill. Many, many famous figures and actors that we grew up with are gone. I am only 22 but my soul feel really old with too much knowledge and cultural awareness. My goals are simple; to travel to as many countries that I can, to have a fulfilling job and maybe settle down and have kids.
In this world, we are only souls traped in the virtual imprisonment called our "body".

Penelope's Mango Dress

2009-07-16T11:04:00.004+08:00

I have this unique habit when I am out shopping,no not shoplifting, dat's Winona's hobby. I love to try on really expensive, haute-couture sorta of dresses and then put it back on the racks. And hey i absolutely no regrets about it. I love to try on Mango, Padini and Samuel n Kevin outfits. I know, it is three differents genres of clothings but that what makes me who I today, eh... Hehe. I tried on an Mango dress which sells at RM (Malaysian Ringgit) 339. ANd i only had come to realize that Penelope modeled for the same dress on the cover of her Mango e-catalogue. Wow..

Miss Precious USA

2009-07-02T08:50:00.007+08:00

introducing my niece! her name is anusree and she is one yr old... i am going to miss her so much and i am so not happy about leaving my hometown because i don't wanna part from her.

LOST

2009-04-21T14:29:00.001+08:00

Back from the Miri trip is like back from the sets of “LOST”… right now I gotta pull myself together and learn to breathe again. Thank god I am not in a relationship or that would have just killed me. I needed to sort things out. Many a times I was at the losing end and I was taken for granted.

Thank god I do have a place to stay for the next semester but unfortunately it is at the same apartment. I got to act quickly and find me a single room before I go home next week. I know what I want in the long term but only God knows what will happen in the present day. I have no knowledge of the intense graveness of the faculty’s reputation of having the worst lecturers and vetting schemes.

The carry marks of all my subjects approved to my dissatisfaction and now I am completely baffled to what awaits me for the coming semester. I still have yet to take any complimentary courses and I have lost all interest in pursuing my third and hopefully final year.

Having lost out the student exchange scholarship, I aimed to make it my immediate business to pass with flying colours and leave this Bornean paradise. Due to the minimal accumulative carry marks of the subjects for these semesters… I might need to sit for some of the classes again next year.

It pains me to know that dreams don’t always come true and I place a curse at everyone who deemed that true for me!

Golf, Anyone?

2009-03-27T11:46:00.005+08:00

Effa, Hamimi, Rapik, Claud and I went to the Kota Samarahan Golf Club, Damai Golf Club and a few other places in Kuching to shoot a documentary for our Broadcasting assignment and despite being rejected an entry by KGS, we filmed on other locations. It was fun, of course, tired as hell, especially Effa, cuz she drives us everywhere. And thank for de gracious meal at ur house...
But on the other hand, golf is freakin expensive, clubs could reach up to ten of thousands, golf ball start at RM38.00, cheapest. Golf membership ere is Rm270,000. Wut is up with golf anyways?
It's absolutely ridiculous to spend that amount of money for something like a sport tat originated from a guy in Scotland trying to hit a rabbit in its hideout! Honest to god, wut fascinates me about golf that golfers can actually convince the public that it is indeed a SPORT!

Little Lebanon, Kuching

2009-03-27T11:05:00.009+08:00

If my body was a temple, it would be a Greek temple in the middle of the Mediterranean oasis, I just simply love MEditerraneAn Food!!! It gives u the contentment of having finished a nourishing meal without the lazy after-meal feeling, u know. Well anyways, aside from cooking my own pasta at home with alterations to the original recipes, i enjoy eating out at Little Lebanon. I don't go out often but when i do, i like to go there. Especially after shopping. THe woman at the counter thinks i work for Cats FM ( a local radio station) and she often ushers me into the dining hall inside the cafe. That's where the air-conditioning and music is at its best.
Despite a PDA from a caucasion man groping his local gf's bum in the middle of the eateria, I was however on the inside of Little Lebanon, through tinted glass-walls. As i scribbled down onto my napkin about the details of my day, i begin to realize that i am turning into one-of-those yuppie type writer/blogger with their laptop in Coffee Bean, sipping expensive caffeine as they go on with their oh-so-modern lifestyle. BULL>

2009-03-23T08:57:00.002+08:00

2009-03-19T15:17:00.007+08:00

me, my highlights and my zits

Staredown B*tch

2009-03-19T14:50:00.000+08:00

As if yesterday’s method presentation wasn’t reason enough for the source of a mild depression, today a damn lesbian of a lecturer cancelled class and instructed an assignment to be done within 6 hours. I have no clue as to how much percentage it is worth and we (my group, cuz it’s group work) submitted de damn thing in handwriting fit for a pharmacist. And that lezbo has a regulation that nobody should be allowed to use other than blue ink cuz she has a hard time reading handwritings. Then y de hell did u became a lecturer? Well, that wasn’t the ignition of my innate fury today, this is;

as I was walking along the corridor, rushing to catch the 10am bus back to my apartment, I noticed an Indian senior and thought I’d smile at her, and she gave me a Ho-Staredown. Now let me give you my Merriam-Webster of a Ho-Staredown. It means to scowl at a person repeatedly. And I was tryin to give de fucking bitch a friendly nod. God, that did it. Went back home, saw my apartment was in a mess, my assignment were far from done and a pending assignment in which I couldn’t locate the source that I obtained less than a week ago. I burst in tears and recorded this video.

Of course I told my friend about it and she was like “let’s track dat bitch down.” (Wasn’t her exact words, u know I to exaggerate)

Pey Yuh, u made my day dear. J

I ain’t putting down my own race here but I bet it happens to anyone and everyone, whether you’re Chinese, Malay or Iban, members of our own social community tend to give u a negative vibe compared to other races. Holler, if u have been served! I wish I did not have to bring this up but it happened and I will never forget it cuz it’s been an ongoing experience for quite a while now. Not only, did my Melbourne exchange programme bunked by the damn faculty, I have to face these fucked-up- constipated- queer creatures that roam around in campus.

I don’t have a rock. I cannot find consolation in anyone e.g. boyfriend, mummy or b.f.f. because they are all far away and I can’t be calling up on them to release stress. Here is my take on digital communication (includes sms, e-mail, voice-call and chat) – you can never fully convey your feelings to ur significant other in the best approach and you end up with a fight at the end of the day. New media, Im sorry, ur just not the best tool when it comes to interactive communication. As a mass com student, I find facial, vocal and eye contact, an immense deal of a decoding device of a message. Simply typing words accompanied with emoticons won’t do it.

Magino se tu futura

2009-03-16T18:07:00.004+08:00

All right, I will confess to you, I really really really want to be an anchor. I have five dreams in my life. I am a step away of achieving these five wishes and I did it all based on talents and a dash of hard work. I don’t try to work hard at anything because I just realized that working hard is not worth your energy at all. The less I try the higher the chances for me to improve. and I did it all based on talents and a dash of hard work. I don’t try to work hard at anything because I just realized that working hard is not worth your energy at all. The less I try the higher the chances for me to improve. (dejavu)

You see I like dealing with space, I am a person with too much red aura, if you see the aura colours around my body, and it’s mostly red, orange and green. All hot colours. These years I have matured enough and added earthier tones in order to calm down and be more humble. I used to be very humble, but as usual people take advantage of that. I return to my normal wrath of a behavior. Well I don’t believe in regulating a person’s behavior because God has made us all special in different ways. We condition our behavior, outlook and general expectations through constant learning experience.

Sometimes it is very helpful to have a good imagination because reality bites. Sometimes we like to think that we are beautiful when in reality there is nothing at satisfactory level. God just did not bless us with looks but He gave us other essential traits such as good judgment, family and other characteristics that may seem hidden until we are grown up.

In uni, all I could think of is how much I have grown up and is this the adult I want to be? Did I grow up to be the woman that I dreamt of as a child? Well three years ago, I was de perfect woman. Perfect is defined as the perception of one’s ideal form or shape. In this sense the perception is my own as a child. I grew in to be the perfect woman that I imagined I would.

Then responsibility kicked in when I started tertiary education. I had to take care of my own well-being, manage my lack of finances and mange my social circle. I have had my good days as well as my horrid, disastrous incidents. Count my blessings each day for having a good set of upstairs. I ain’t a dumb human being and I thank god for that because I believe that I’m surrounded by blithering idiots, not excluding blood ties. It makes the world a better place to have people like David Letterman and Ellen Degeneres around. They are so calm and collected and they have a sense of humour about life. Of course these dudes started out as stand-up comedians before having their own talk shows. Jay Leno is not really ma fave, Craig Kilborn is okay, Oprah, sorry woman, you are so outta my league.

Comedians are actually very intelligent people because they need to appear funny and yet not offend people in any way. Take Russell Peters, he insults practically all ethnics ever to exist in the world, and yet he still appeals to the major audiences. Why? Simple. He uses logic and reality based jokes and not at random tells them. It makes a huge difference to know a professional from an amateur.

Shia LeBouf is amazing. He is my age and yet immensely talented. He knows how to communicate with people around him. He appears friendly and obliging as though he doesn’t any real world problems. He had one of the shittiest childhood and grew up in the slums. He was constantly discouraged by bad family situations in order to progress in any sort but he did it anyways. I often think that successful people often face the toughest and unbelievable agony and obstacles in their lives day in and out. I believe so too.

The next time, you go “hey, that dude is so lucky” or “oh, he’s just blessed with good luck to be an actor”, think again. These people go through living hell before becoming famous.

A cuppa with Dhipa

2009-03-16T18:04:00.001+08:00

Two years of enslaving myself in this profit slugging establishment has proven another distressful point of fate for me; an offer that I have been longing to apply for so long has became invalid just as the right time I have become eligible to participate. The RMIT scholarship program/ exchange are no longer offered, not for this semester at least. Heart-shattered and numb, I lay down here, dotting my assignments in last minute preparation and trying to reason the consequences of such a letdown, I know I am worthy of a shot at the offer but there is absolutely no offer to give a go at.

I have also recently checked out the whole Edison Chen ordeal that has spread out the net world like ages ago but I am living under a rock when in campus, so I didn’t know about it until I read an article about Cecelia Cheung lashing at Edison.

I know the Edison-type males in my life. In fact my rebound boyfriend after KK is an Edison in his own rights; he is a sex-hungry, womanizing, insensitive S.O.B and could kill people with his bare looks. It lasted for a good 6 weeks before I cut loose of all contact with him. I did suffer some repercussions but not as bad as these beautiful Hong-Kong-ites did.

Cecelia Cheung and Gillian Chung are two names that I, a Malaysian Indian am aware of, and I have admired these chicks throughout their successful careers. My colleague stated Cecelia Cheung as one of the most beautiful women to have ever lived (and still is) and my bro used have a little crush on Gillian. The funniest part of it all, when I had my own little Edison episode a couple of years ago, I asked my friend, how do Hong Kong actors remain so stoic and politically correct when asked to comment on relationship status. Little did I know that my colleague’s favourite star was reeling of the same effect that I had at the time. Thank god fame ain’t my game and all I could think of at that time, was migrating to another country.

Well now, I am not able to enroll into a student exchange programme to Melbourne and my chances of moving temporarily to another country are less possible as before. God is a mysterious element and I love Him for that, yup to me, God is a He.

2009-03-11T15:33:00.005+08:00

i really like this goth-maiden stuff... dunno hw ppl might react when i dress like this at campus.... i already have queer responses for the blonde highlights i had done a coupla weeks ago

Break

2009-03-05T11:35:00.000+08:00

It is 1am, am getting prepared for the Interpersonal exam tomorrow. My heart just doesn’t feel in the right place. Missing my little godchildren like crazy, especially the littler one. Oh man, when she smiles, the whole world seems lighter, all my problems lifted off of my heavy shoulders. She’s truly god’s gift to life. She is so beautiful and happy. I love her so much it hurts to know that she’s getting bigger and doing newer things everyday without me being there. As for my nephew, sure he can get really naughty sometimes and at my nerves for most of the part, but he still is my nephew. I remember how it was when he was first born. Tiny little intelligent creature he was. He doesn’t have anyone else but us; mom, dad, bro and I; that is the only world he knows. I adore him so much. Laxman and Anusree, your aunt can’t stop thinking about you J

This experience brings a new outlook towards life: I used to be really selfish and often thought that my problems were an immense load of a contribution to my intrinsic state of paranoia. When my sis brought Laxman into this world, nothing seemed to scare me anymore. I just stopped being afraid. No more Ms. Introvert-locking-herself-in-her-room-all-the-time. I am not saying that I am a better person just because I have opened up to the world. It’s just that I have stopped being afraid. I rebelled against my family at the age of 19. I became anorexic because I hated them. I lost my appetite for a very long time. They put me under enough pressure, even until now.

Just imagine your entire life being decided for you by someone else; often not for your best interest. Imagine everything major and minor decisions determined by your family; where you can study? Whether you’re allowed to go out? What brand of a laptop you are buying? Etc… everything… I am not joking. They will even decide who my future husband will be. Right now, I am upset because I know I have the aptitude and enthusiasm to pursue a career in mass media. This will require me to work in KL for a beginning. My family will NEVER allow me to stay and work in KL. I am slowly losing my mind because of this. I feel like I am being used. By my own flesh and blood.

If I could describe myself as a symbolic object, I would choose a wrist watch. You know why? It looks faultless and fully functional on the outside but inside, there are hundreds of tiny little mechanical controls that constantly rotate. By other words, inside, there’s always something going on, something rotating and spinning and moving. On the outside, I look fine and happy.

Sometimes I get uncontrollably upset that I hurt myself. Yup I am a cutter. I choose to relieve my psychological duress by diverting it through physical marring. I love myself and yet sometimes I find life just not worth living. Nobody sincerely cares about me. My family seems to highlight my errors rather than to help me out during these times of need. I can’t blame anyone because I choose to grow distant from them. We live in the same house but with different wavelengths. So why bother trying to get somebody to understand you when all they do is either judge you too quickly or prioritize their needs above yours in consistency.

Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate the things that people had done for me throughout my entire life. I have never ceased to show my gratitude to anyone who has helped me in times of need or anyone who trusted me enough to give a break for me to do what I want. It’s all locked in my noggins.

I am just lonely in this cesspool of difficult people. I am who I am and I can’t change that. So be it.

Angie

2009-02-20T08:27:00.005+08:00

It is like a death of a friend... my beautiful friend... with all the goodies and benefits... Now she is here again... amnesiac and could not recall a thing.... im talking about my laptop... yes, de very expensive yet ubiquitous inanimate friend a girl could have... you see, it crashed a coupla times... started with a virus, or so i thought. It turns out that my beautiful friend has a surgical disease.. something that requires its motherboard to बे meddled with... i cannot just ring up the repairman and have her done because i have all these muthaload of assignments to bang my head with... I just have to hold on on with her, each time there's an attack. i would just have to deal with her situation myself... But you see, her body is here but her beauty is gone. Some of most stunning features have vanished and some stubbornly refuses to emerge. I love her indeed.I love हेर well... All the wonderful memories we had. All of those memories now gone, because i couldn't save a backup database in time. I am still showing her my luv, my duty as her mortal caretaker, i would never abandoned her or feel any sort of resentment... No, i still love u, gurl (Angelina--किन्दा--luv)

dhipa's blog

2008-12-31T22:37:00.000+08:00

I undoubtedly love my blog. It is a tool for me to vent, express and reflect on my daily happenings. Yes, it is quite similar to a conventional diary, an online diary to be articulate. But then again it is cooler to publish the works of your critical judgment in a medium that imparts info like no other. I have never found my words to weigh its worth in gold if I were to use it in a normal conversation.

Okay, so during my flight from KLIA to Kuching International Airport, a foreigner sought my help when his mobile went dead low on battery. We then struck up a conversation about our backgrounds. It turns out the guy is a Colombian who has been in Australia for 7 years. No wonder he didn’t carry the sultry South American accent. He however, is a playful dude who enjoys the night life in Melbourne and took 7 years to study a degree programme, a bachelor’s degree. He admitted that he delays a lot of his academic tasks and chose to works for 2 years as a revenue officer. He is currently studying finance and hopes to finish by next year.

It inspired on how a guy could be so casual, relaxed, and successful at the same time. You know he somehow manage to settle in Melbourne from Colombia. That’s a big step. He shared that he just celebrated Xmas in Bali and planning to celebrate New Year’s in KL. That is so chic. He is a young man and loving life. Now, now, I am a young woman with a lot of opportunities crossing my path almost on a monthly basis. I’m talking big hooks. Big fishes and big kahunas.

2008-11-07T13:24:00.003+08:00

Home sweet Home; (Above) My sis n laxman, My mom and n laxman

2008-11-06T09:10:00.004+08:00

At Sri Shan's Place.. My friends birthday party

Durin the mass comm dinner

Happier days// alin ni during the rainforest world music festival

Why do some girls go after rich men?

2008-11-04T20:09:00.000+08:00

Well it has been an issue for a long time now, aite? Why rich men, is it because the girl is interested in his wealth? Why? There is a simple explanation to that, guys. Wealth equals to security. Women will search for partners to be fit as the father of their children. The wealthier the man is, the more secure that girl’s life will be. I however find it hard to be with a guy who is super rich. Well simply because rich guys love to sleep around. Am I right? Actually no, I realized that rich or poor, good-looking or not, guys sleep around anyways. It is really hard to trust your partners nowadays. Girls or Guys, it is the same.

! CarniVal !

2008-11-02T08:05:00.006+08:00

To sum it all up it has been a rough semester. I had never imagined it would be this way. I am scorched by the sun. My skin broke out in heat zits, my hair ruined completely beyond restoration by the cheap salon in Samarahan, my relationship with a lot of people turned rusty and unsavoury. I hate so many things that took place in this semester and wished that the outcome of things would have been different. If only I could have helped it. I have lost myself. I have become old and tired. I need to refresh my soul, my eyes and my perception towards the world. I am so jaded this semester. I wish I was somebody else. I really don’t know what to do. I have to sit for finals next week and I have not prepared at all. Last semester I used the same strategy. I only studied last minute. But last sem was fun, full of activities. It was a concoction of playful behaviour, happy people and determination. I was playing the Russian roulette. I wish it was de same for this sem.

I am currently finishing up my Public Relations course assignment and the topic is Case Study: Rainforest World Music Festival (RWMF). Its main objective is to promote world music. Now let me tell u, I went to de fest on July 12, the second day in Santubong earlier this sem. That was the only best thing that happened in this semester. Due to extensive research for the assignment, I began understanding the concept of world music. It’s intriguing indeed. I started listening to La Caution, French Hip Hop artiste, and for the past few days began to develop an interest in Albanian guitarist, Shpat Deda. Now, I know they don’t exactly represent World Music because those guys are modern hip-hoppers. But I started realizing that people all over the world regardless of culture and upbringing have their own opinions and ways of looking at things. i know that many people here have different ways of looking at things, I know I have the most distinct one.

But whatever the hell it is, I do not want to be upset or angry at myself any longer. I do not want to waste precious time and energy on things that are out of our hands. Uncontrollable variable as I might refer to. Hehehe. I am in the Faculty of Social Science with an engineering brain. Muahahha… Well whatever it is…I am happy with who I am no matter what happens. I know why I am upset and I will try my best to get over it. I just don’t give a damn of who thinks what. It’s not like they were there for me in times of need. So why bother what others think of you ah? Pi’ensa lo (Think for yourself)

Reality hits u like a rock

2008-10-28T14:03:00.005+08:00

i have this theory that i ain't gonna live very long... i have like 25 hypotheses to that theory// first, it is common knowledge that every 1 outta 4 women will develop breast cancer... Two of my aunts passed away because of that. Both my parents have diabetes and to support my stance is the fact that both sides of my grandparents each has diabetes. I was anorexic at one point of my life. I have a mild case of migraine which i strongly believe will succumb to its higher stages.
I have never told anyone this but i suffered two minor heart attacks last year and one just a month ago when i was sleeping. i know this because i got up with severe pain on de left of my chest and half of my torso was hurting. Yes i am 21 and i will be 22 in about two weeks. Those who had previously had gone through severe depression or eating disorders are prone to heart attacks, kidney failure and other major organs' breakdown of system. i did my bit of research. i know what i am talking about. well that's okay if i have a short life. i mean i ain't gonna turn wild or anything, i have experienced and seen quite a lot of things. I really wanna travel first. In fact,i have like a list of things i wanna do before i hit the sand. I predict i would be 36 at the most. i mean, if you know you are gonna die an early death, will u think of marrying and having kids.?.. i always wanted kids, but knowing that i am de "pinni"(telegu word for little mom) for my nephew and niece, its rewarding enough yar... i know you guys are probably thinking that i am a paranoid girl... i am not. i am not a stupid person, my friends know that. so i would not make any assumption unless i know for a fact that it is plausible.
I won't stop studying, i won't stop improving myself. Optimism lives on. Keep smiling and keep shining.

Kamek sik dpt makan idli sitok

2008-10-26T13:32:00.000+08:00

Sad sad… I need to celebrate diwali in kuching. Holler if u feel de pain aite… well im inconsolable... remember I have an assignment to do. Haven’t done it yet. Aiya kamek mau polah cincai jak… well anyways. I am de only one who can make me happy. I went to do hair treatment yesterday and today I bought myself two sets of lingerie… nothing like a new pair of underwear to remind u that it is diwali. It’s funny how I am suddenly missing diwali. One thing I love about it is the idli that I have in the morning. Every diwali I have idli with sambar in the morning. Idli is a round rice dumpling and sambar is lentil or dhal. Thaipusam was my favourite holiday because there’s a whole street party involved in it. Well all of a sudden it sucks to be in Kuching during diwali. Considering that there are more Caucasians than Indian here. We are a minority in the minority group.

Well I have not been doing anything. I did some thinking. Careful thinking. Umm stuff like career planning and everything. I mean, just today after grocery shopping I met up with a friend that I haven’t seen around in the longest time. He stays at another college. H is in SUKSIS… I dunno wut it stands for but it is something to do with police training and those who are involved are automatically accepted into the force. Well, I thought of a few career options, there public relations, newscaster, announcer, columnist and stuff like dat. Professions concerning media attachment. I don’t want to choose. I am going to do em all.

DO EM ALL.

new hair

2008-10-25T20:18:00.003+08:00

okay i know i haven't completed my assignment but i needed to do my hair absolute repair treatment because i cannot bear to see diwali with my horrible state of hair. so i went to the Spring in Boulevard, and did my hair at a professional stylist at Cutting Edge. Cost me a bomb but satisfaction guaranteed babe.

study leave

2008-10-25T10:05:00.003+08:00

it is study leave right now. People go clubbing and to the beach. But i am gonna be a good girl and finish ma goddamn assignment and movie review, so that i can go do my hair. Hehe all before diwali... i need to finish up..

living a fantasy

2008-10-24T07:42:00.003+08:00

no bitchin today guys!! i am one happy woman. i am living my fantasies. i have never had it this good. Sure i wish my hair was in a better state... i might go for treatment today. Kesian my hair. and i wish i had studied more for de quiz later today. All in all, i am living ma deepest darkest fantasies. holy hell.

2008-10-23T18:38:00.004+08:00

i think a need a girl friend... a good one... one that is not a hypocrite, one that is cool and one that think the same way that i do. i have done my own research and discovered that many actresses have had girl friends even when they are straight. Megan fox had a crush on a girl before. The sun kissed complexion beauty who is a mix of irish, cherokee and german is an angelina wannabe. in my personal opinion, i think that she is much more beautiful than the sex crazed angelina.

vendetta is ma middle name

2008-10-22T10:56:00.003+08:00

baby got back.. hell life's all about vendetta.. ma friendster was wit well-over 2000 friends, all de hardwork was juz to get back at de fuckin useless guy who kept comparing me wit his ex.
hmmm.. now i just noticed dat i have motivate myself to be in a much harder stronger and hostile environment.
i luv hoding grudges, vengeance and losing ma temper... i am a mad woman. And i love it.

Missing ma anorexic days

2008-10-16T16:41:00.001+08:00

A few years ago, I was in a rut… an emotional and financial rut. I was facing too many problems all at once. Ma no good new found friends turned against me, causing further emotional distress, and let’s not get into ma previous relationship with a de most useless guy on de surface of de planet.

I was teaching part-time tuition in ma house when I was in upper six. I was a young woman with a hectic lifestyle. I had to walk about a kilometer everyday from de nearest bus stop to my house after school. After STP, I worked in Parkson Grand as an announcer in the customer service department, with minimum wage. My lunch would be an egg sandwich pre-packed from home.

Well I told some of my friends about ma dilemma but those bitches were of no comfort and instead accused me of spreading gossip about them. And being good old Dhip politely told them to burn in hell, muthafuckaz.

I didn’t eat much because I needed to save up ma money and partially because I was too exhausted at the end of the day. I then began to lose so much of weight in an extreme speed. But I wasn’t starving, dun get me wrong. I just lost all appetite to enjoy food anymore. Soon I began liking being fit and trim. I learned to love my body. And when I started working, I had to wear make-up. I had extra savings because I was really tight with ma money. I would go shopping and buy cosmetics. And get my hair done by the Phillipe Sum Saloon in Parade. Man oh man; those guys are truly gifted with magical hands. I even have a personal hairstylist, Jeff. But then shopping is truly a woman’s haven, Parade and Jusco. All that boosted my self-confidence a 50 times higher in comparison to my introverted childhood years. I began to be fully self-dependent.

Being in the shadow of my taller, fairer and much prettier older sister for all these years finally paid off when I began to be thinner. You know what is the secret about losing or gaining weight? It is easier when u do it unintentionally. My transformation was totally unplanned for. It’s always too late before u realize dat u have gained weight.

I consciously chose to lose contact with my friends because of all drama that went on which led to so many untrue hearsay circulating in ma group of old friends. But after a couple of years ma closest frenz reconnected with me via Friendster. We always meet up during de holidays.

Fast forward, I was in a better financial situation. Everything was back to how it was at the household. With de arrival of ma nephew, I decide dat I wanted to be young and cool aunt. Someone who he can be friends with. He truly changed my opinion about babies. I didn’t like babies when I was younger, u know they’re always crying and whining. But I overlooked de wholesome joy of having a bouncing bundle of joy in the house.

I was still having problems eating. I couldn’t go back to eating rice because it is just too heavy and I wasn’t physically active anymore. When I entered university, I began to eat more. But unhealthy stuff lor, ma usual coffee intake rose up to 4 cups a day. My body is dry, and dehydrated. But I can’t quit coffee. It’s just too alluring for me to live without. I am hooked on it. Partly because I wanna escape from all circus dat goes on in university. Too many clowns around la.

I am positive that no idiot would understand me so I just gave up trying to tell anyone anything. As what I used to tell my caffeine-addict momma who suffers from anxiety, not to over explain anything to people who don’t understand ur problem because it will frustrate u even more. So do me a favour and don’t comment unless u r certain u know what I am talking about.

Cocktail Anyone?

2008-10-16T16:40:00.003+08:00

Growing up with mix-parentaged friends was a completely common experience for me. They were school mates whom I have been close to since primary school. I hate name dropping so I will explain in a courteous yet comprehensible way.

De gurl who sat next to me during form 4 was of Filipino, Chinese, Indian, Portugese, and Spanish heritage, my 6 close frenz are Malaysians who are of: Chinese Indian, Malay Chinese Dutch, Indonesian Sinhalese, Chinese Ceylonese, Kadazan Bruneian, Kadazan Chinese.

It was completely normal to grow up with them. Ma frenz have mixtures even within the ethnic group itself, such as Tamil-Telugu, Malayalam-Telugu (these are fusions within different groups in Southern India) and Ceylonese (Sri Lankan Tamils). There are also friends who are Gujerati-Punjabi, Marathi-Telegu and Brahmin-Punjabi (within the Northern Indian sub-ethnics). My Malay friends have Thai, Java, Arabic and Pakistani roots along their lineage.

My father’s brother married a Serani woman who has an English maternal grandmother. My mother’s cousin wedded a tall Maori chick in New Zealand. I have cousins around my age and they are of diverse background. Even ma lil nephew and niece are of Tamil-Telegu hybrid. So where am I goin with this?

I have always been fascinated with the idea of mixed breeds. They have an excuse of not being fluent in their mother tongue. My first language was English and then I learned Malay in school. I spoke a little Cantonese when I was in training to represent Perak for badminton since I was eight until Form Two but I have never spoken a word in my mother tongue until the age of 18, when I was recruited into the National Service. Fresh out of school, I realized I was no longer in my all-girl English Convent school comfort zone anymore. I met up with people of all walks of life. Risk being branded an Indian coconut (brown on the outside and white on the inside) as opposed to the banana term for de Chinese who cannot speak Mandarin, I started speaking Tamil…de most god-awful broken version of Tamil. Eventually I managed to improve my Tamil and my social circle as well. Of course every now and then my Indian friends would ask me why I dun stick the pottu on ma forehead or wear my hair long and typical things like that. I would just tell them that I am a Sikh and they bought it everytime. No-lah, I’m just kidding. At first glance, one would not immediately assimilate the fact dat I am of pure breed Tamil blood with no mix at all. My A+ blood is one hundred percent Tamil. No mixes in my upper middle-class social hierarchy as well but I’m not gonna delve into that because I am against the oppressive system of caste.

De funny part is that I am pure Tamil Hindu but I am by no means a conventional one. I grew up watching English comedies, Spanish & Tagalog soaps, American movies and listened to British alternative, house, club and rock, French alternative, Arabic and Latin pop numbers since I was 14. I cook Italian and Arabic food. I eat rice like twice a year. My hobbies are belly dancing and samba. I drink three mugs of Nescafe and a full cup of Irish Nut/Capuchinno or Mochachino per day (I have more caffeine than H2O in my body). I can read and write in basic Arabic.I know de seven sins of a Christian in The Holy Writ and I ain’t a Christian. Ever since I was a kid, whenever I go out, I usually have Chinese chow, no matter if it’s broiled, steamed, fried or medium rare. U can never go wrong with Chinese food. I enjoy American and British humour and used to believe that I was no different than any native English speakers. However I stay away completely from to imperialistic fast food and carbonated drinks… I strongly believe dat KFC and McD are unhealthy, ludicrously expensive, and a contribution to child obesity and pre-mature heart-attacks.

But make no mistake…I did not choose all of that; it was how I was conditioned while growing up. God chose my path and I am happy with what He gave me (wink).

My mother’s family speaks fluent Hokkien (sometimes better than a native!). My mother studied only up to Form Four but she speaks the Queen’s English better than me (Greenlane Convent used to have British missionaries teaching de students). Her favourite TV shows are Magnum, Hawaii Five-0 and Texas from the 80s and Everybody Loves Raymond, The Late Show with Dave Letterman from 90s.

Point of the matter is I am a Dravidian, a Southern Indian. Legend has it 20,000 years ago my ancestors came from ancient Nubia along of the Niles River in Afwan, Egypt. They came to modern day Southern India in long boats to escape the constant warfare between the Sudanese and Egyptians. It does make sense because the food in southern Egypt is similar to southern Indian cuisines. Rice, chicken curry, mutton as well as the use of yogurt in spicy dishes provides a lot resemblance to both cultures.

There were also stories that Dravidians originate from ancient Greece which explain the sharp nose, big eyes and full lips that is largely inherited by Dravidians. The height matches as well. Greek people are Southern European who have darker skin complexion compared their northern counterparts. And that kind of elucidates my inborn fixation on Mediterranean food.

That is the theory that states that the entire human race starts from from Africa.

Well the misconception about all this is that ALL Dravidians are supposed to be LOUD, dark and short with curly long hair and a golden nose stud. Dravidians are supposed to be the opposite of Northern Indians. Northern Indians originate from the Indo-Aryan race of the Caucasus mountains, somewhere in Northern Europe. They have fair skin, coloured eyes, soft light hair and of tall built and speak a variety of languages that are with noticeable difference of phonetics from the Dravidian based languages. There are different versions of the story that documents the Indo-Aryan’s were from Persia and lived a warrior-like lifestyle. They conquered India in the 15^th Century and forced the natives move down south.

Bollywood is the biggest movie industry in the world after Hollywood. In the Hindi-speaking film industry of Bollywood, the dream girls of the 80’s and 90s era were Hema Malini and Sri Devi. They were voted the most stunning actresses that had dominated the Northern Indian based Bollywood. If Hema Malini and Sri Devi are both pure Tamil Hindus but they look like they were out of a fairytale, so where is the logic in the false impression that all Dravidians are dusky and petite? The current Bollywood dream girl and arguably the most beautiful woman in the world, Aishwarya Rai is of the Tulu speaking Bunt community of Mangalore, Southern India. Technically she is a pure bred Dravidian and we all know what she looks like.

The Bollywood icons of the 80’s, 90’s and de 21^st century;

Notice that they are all Dravidians?

Hema Malini (80) Sri Devi (90) and Aishwarya Rai (2000)

Now, now, sheer gorgeousness is not the only criterion to become a dream girl. They all had other things in common; high moral values. No bikini shots, no sex scenes, no super ego. Well the three were able to handle controversy in a chivalrous approach. They put tremendous importance on their respective families and privacy and dun easily bad mouth or name drop. If u follow their interviews done in the past, they always appear intelligent and insightful. They are often described by other Bollywood stars as very simple and domesticated women. In the current Bollywood dream girl candidacy, there is a Tamil actress named Vidya Balan, an upcoming starlet in her own rights via Salam e-Ishq and Munna Bhai MBBS.

CNN’s Anjali Rao and Al-Jazeera’s Divya Gopalan is no exception to representing women with beauty, brains and confidence. James Naidu, Sunita Selvaraj and many others are well-known Dravidian newscasters on BBC, CNN and Al-Jazeera.

Ok what about the men? M. Night Shymalan, de handsomely mysterious, brilliant and married L film-maker of The Sixth Sense and many other horror flicks, is originally from the former French colonial district of Pondicherry, Tamil Nadu. British cricket team captain Nasser Hussain, the flamboyantly dashing Chennai-born cricketer who played for de Indian team before venturing overseas. D latest yummy Dravidian addition to the gang is Sendhil Ramamurthy who plays Dr Mohinder Suresh from Heroes. Hmm… There are also thousands of university professors and doctors in the United States that are of pure Southern Indian descent.

Well bottom line is dun pass judgment without being self-critical. So please don’t blame me for how I look or why my name is spelt differently without being a cocktail.* Take notice dat I am not empowering ma own ethnicity here but I am just trying to clarify the collective assumptions about various groups dat exist in the same civilization but does have distinguishable traits in the disciplines of language, physical appearance and lifestyle.

The mother of all grunts

2008-10-16T16:37:00.001+08:00

Could I balloon up any worse?? I have gained so much booty…I need to think of a plan quick… a work out? No…gym’s alwiz full of jerks that’d never seen a gurl on a treadmill b4 in their entire miserable lives. Diet? Nah, I can never succeed withstanding hunger. Besides I am getting better at cookin my meals nowadays; mozzarella pizza, fettuccines and Arabic pita bread. Ok so now I’m aware of de rationale behind de sudden addition in weight. hmmm.. Belly dancing is a great idea but I need to be on some cardio routine to burn de fat before start shaking ma 36s again… belly dancing is actually all muscle work out. It actually tones ur bod… but muz burn de fat 1st... :-p … jogging? No time. Power walking… yeah datz it!!! Eureka..lol. I used to power walk last semester. To de library, this is a good 20 mins walk from ma apartment. And whenever I bump into anyone during my walk, ppl have d tendency to pass comments like “waaah, rajinnye…”, “u study so hard everyday goin to de library…, so hardworking”. Fucking bitches. FYI, I have no choice but to go to de library to be able to connect to de Internet… damn wireless network is unavailable in ma apartment anymore because of de massive online traffic/ too many peeps sharing de connection.

Now, peeps assume I am a fucking study machine, studying non-stop. I was shy of .17 pts to receiving a four flat in de last CGPA. So ma peeps naturally assume that I study all d time. That is so retarded. My motto in life is 95 percent play, 4 percent shit and 1 percent work.

Assume, assume, assume...making an ass out of u and me. ASSUME= ASS+U+ME… quote, unquote Prof Dr. Andrew Aeria… my 1^st sem lecturer.

Yeah, let’s dump all de workload on Dhip. She’s a genius, a workaholic, she loves work. Oww...u have no idea the amount of cuss words that flew across ma mind just reminiscing de one month -in -hell during ma editorial stint with the university newspaper. Basically, ma course coordinators made it compulsory for second year mass communication students to be in charge of the university periodicals which count as our assessment as well. And I was elected chief editor for de first edition.

I was planning on just opening up to other things un-media, but I was locked in the dungeon of huge responsibility with an uptight female instructor that wouldn’t acknowledge anything except mistakes which is not even accounted for as mine… I had to give up ma holidays for that motherfucking publication. My migraine returned and moved up a notch from mild to strong/ I missed the chance to see my senior’s convo/ I couldn’t hang out with a dear friend who came all de way from overseas just to c me. I almost lost ma sanity during the holidays and mostly kept to myself.

I had to give up ma Arabic lessons because I could not muddle through it with de fucking tension surrounding me. I was keen on refreshing ma pure-bred lineage through mastering a sexy-sounding foreign language but I couldn’t do so because of ma peeps assumptions that I’m some sort of a fucking supercomputer.

People also go “Eh, why u look stressed ah?”… I had to refrain from displaying de international gesture of “respect”, u know which finger.

Yeah, de International Understanding of Assholes (IUA) is alive and kicking. Their spies are everywhere.