'MCA go home' vs 'Where was DAP 13 years ago?' at Jonker Walk
What?! Gan qualified his being there as a survey, not to protest? Let alone to lead the protest? Did Mr. Gan Tian Loo realize that the MCA protest carries more weight than DAP protest many times
over. The state government, being UMNO-led government, considers the DAP as the opposition working hand-in-hand with PAS and PKR to oust UMNO from power, rescinding the directive on the request
from DAP leaders will make the party even more popular. I thought, at first, here come the MCA, finally to do what it's supposed to do. Then the expected happened. He got cold feet. The
reporter who covered the protest reported Gan was suddenly cautious . He was like ..."I'm here to lend my support to..the .. no, wait! I am not here to support the traders - but just to do a quick
survey! But I am glad to be standing here with the protesters but reporters, please put it down in black and white I am not, I repeat, am not here as part of the protest. This is the reason the MCA
was shunned, I mean has been shunned by the Chinese. They do not represent the Chinese anymore. They cannot get things done anymore unlike in the old days. Gan admitted his meeting with the chief
minister was fruitless, but would keep trying. Keep trying for what? He should stop embarrassing the MCA and reducing its credibility further by continuing to beg despite being rebuffed earlier.
Again, this proved that the Malaysian Chinese Association has really completely lost its usefulness. If a small matter like Jonker Walk closure was beyond its power then, that 's it.
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By David Lang
The following stories may fire your imagination, pique your interest. Some say 1MDB is Malaysia's Sovereign Wealth fund; to others they asked what wealth fund when its total capitalization is just One million ringgit? But, then again, if you think you can look down on the pet idea of the Malaysian prime minister, think again. His idea has the potential of turning the now world famous - or shall we say, infamous - 1Malaysia Development Berhad into a giant corporation you can ever imagine - even bigger than Bill Gate's Microsoft! At least, it could be, if the original course is stayed. It was supposed to inspire Malaysians to think big besides advance growth, according to its slogans screaming out of giant bill boards throughout the country. 'Backed' by the finance ministry who owns it - which means money will never be the problem - it can only succeed. But..it didn't. It failed! That's why it may have piqued many people's curiosity. How can a company flush with cash and can borrow any amount (billions) anytime could fail? Well, this may be in line with your thinking. People have seen since its inception - I mean after its name was changed in 1999 from Trengganu Investment Authority (TIA) to the present - it hasn't done any business! I have used present tense deliberately. It hasn't done any business yet. I mean if you are in business you need to make profit or find ways to make profit. Or close shop. Oh, I had heard about their filings of tax returns and hiring of a couple of internationally known auditors to sign off on their balance sheets; but these concerned only the company's borrowings and interests to be paid. Two massive bonds were issued to the tune of $7 billions. To buy up power plants. Again I want to say if you are in business to make money even investing in independent Power Plants, it should be done with the view to making a profit. The decision may be long term or short term, it doesn't matter, it has to make money, or no deal. May be they have done the right thing. Maybe luck was not on their side. Still, the amount is staggering. I didn't know having or managing so much money can be a problem! But many - especially the Malays - have not given up hope yet. Yes, may be the durians are just ripening; may be they need time and may fall soon!
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Malaysia's Vision 2020
By:David Lang
Malaysia is supposed to be on its way to becoming a developed nation, by the year 2020. Will she make it (in less than five years -tick-tuck, tick-tuck)? There is no doubt the year 2020 is coming whether the country is ready or not, and if that will be the only requirement then Malaysia will attain that developed nation status on schedule. There is a question, though, Will Malaysia, or Malaysians, for that matter, be ready for that status as far as their affluence, quality of life's concern? Currently Malaysia's GNI per capita stood at US$10060. According to the World Bank high income economies are those with GNI per capita of US$12,745. And until Malaysians earn much more to be there, the developed nation status may not be achieved even by the year 2020. The futility of declaring a country a high income country when it's not, achieves nothing. May be even counter-productive; it lulls the country into false sense of success and premature celebration. Don't forget China reportedly overtook Japan as the world's second largest economy, but in actual fact China's citizens' ca pita income is a fraction of the incomes of the Japanese who earn $37,000. Chinese incomes range from $13,000. China's gross domestic product, taken as a whole, may beat Japan's, but in term of quality of life, and GNI per capita income, the criteria for a developed nation status, China still has a lot of catching up to do. That's why China still qualifies as recipient of Japan's economic aid meant for developing countries. Comparing with the Chinese per capita domestic product, Malaysia is even worse off. Unless the government bucks up and rushes to create more wealth for its citizens, the Vision 2020 dream may remain just that ..a dream.
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How To Repair Your Own Refrigerator And Save A Bundle
when I received a call the other day (night) from a Miss Lee complaining about her fridge not working (she noticed the temperature inside the fridge was warm comparable to room temperature), I asked her to check if the fridge's power switch was at on or off?
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Sep 29, 2026
About Me!
In the old way, the only way to publish is to come up with a master piece and send in your manuscript to a publisher - for a book deal that is elusive as find a needle in the hay sack.</p><p>
Now I can publish even just a draft, edit, preview and publish or discard, at very little cost.</p><p>
And, I can pretend I am a published writer!</p><p>
With a click of the mouse button, I can revisit my handiworks (stories) (which Google indexed to be searched or read by thousands on the internet) anytime and to read or edit, depending on the mood.</p><p>
Of course, it would be great to see my own book with my photo on the front cover, sitting on the bookshelf in a bookstore. Or to be an editor of a book publishing firm who reads piles of submitted manuscripts everyday, and has the final say in who gets whose novel published. Or helm a magazine or daily newspaper.</p><p>
With this page, The Write-Way Gazette as a vehicle, I can now pretend I am: the all-powerful editor, publisher of The Write-Way Gazette periodical, magazine, or newspaper, roll into one.</p><p>
And with that, I have qualified to join the ranks of prestigious writers known as published writers. </p><p>
While attending college in Singapore, I discovered my true calling telling stories. I am a storyteller by nature. Most of my life, whenever or wherever I socialized, I have been telling stories. I can't not tell stories because of the storyteller in me and by popular demands. I seemed to have a lot on my mind and they flowed freely. I could talk on any subject, and could go on and on...People called me a talkative person. I called myself a speaker, or public speaker.</p><p>
While in Singapore, I had the fortune to land the job of assistant speakers for many renowned lecturers from Thailand. They came to Singapore by popular demands. My job was to assist the high priests by translating what they said in Thai or a smattering of English for the audience in front of us. We sometimes spoke to hundreds, if not thousands, of listeners in front of us, consisting of doctors, lawyers, government leaders and politicians and other occupations.</p><p>
They were profuse in their praises when we parted; I was natural, they said.</p><p>
Over the years, after being exposed to the lecturing circuits and the limelight, I began to morph into a public speaker in my own right, not averse to my fifteen minutes of fame. Because of my ubiquitous appearance, and what I was capable of, I continued to receive invitations to speak every where throughout the Lion City long after the monks had left. </p><p>
Needless to say, my public speaking, my storytelling, my talkativeness, or whatever you call it, have brought me immense benefit. They have brought nuance to my life besides opening doors and hearts you can imagine.</p><p>
During my heyday, I was like a Tiger Wood, sic, of love. Wood in his heyday needed to only appear (grace) a tournament to be paid millions without having to play or win! The tournament needs Wood's presence or slotted to be present at the tournament, to ensure the its success. Tackling or courting girls was like second nature to me. I could get any girl I wanted... even girls already going steady with their boyfriends. The girls didn't hesitate to leave their long time boyfriends in order to be with me after they got to know me. </p><p>
Before you call me a heartless snob, I like to explain. I never lied to the girl that my father was a billionaire; I did not know she already had a boyfriend or married; moreover, most girls were in their teens too young to be married; so I assumed they were free. Anyway, my reputation spread like wildfire - up to England and Australia. I had friends from London and Sydney who flew thousands of miles to join our group. I had lots friends of both sexes. For the boys, because they hoped to find a girlfriend from among the pool. I have helped lots of friends – mostly boys – to find love. </p><p>
All that they have to do was point out a girl. It can be any girl; those from my circle or even total strangers. I would start from scratch there as if I was trying to ask the pretty girl to be my girlfriend. Once done, I would do the introduction. Some parents, too, who knew me personally, would encourage their daughters to befriend me. Boys even lied about me agreeing to attend their parties in order to get girls to agree to accept their invitations. I have no idea why I was popular. It could be the same scenario as Tiger Wood getting paid to grace golf tournaments.</p><p>
His name ensured excitement and attracted more golfers and spectators to attend, ensuring more income for the organizers.</p><p>
At the height of his golfing careers, Tiger Woods, was one the biggest names in golf, and an essential component for making golf tournaments a sold-out. Woods got paid millions just by gracing the occasion. </p><p>
Therefore, I can say that I am the Tiger Woods of dating. In my heyday I led an exciting life of night life and endless parties. My friends and I we literally painted the town red - nights after night. Living life to the full is an understatement. </p><p>
By now, you may have guessed I was a sizzling looker. Not to me. I was just an ordinary looker. May be others saw me sizzling looker. Check my profile never lied. That's me. But listen to this: When I wanted to clinch a date with a very pretty girl, I would not resort to donning a suit but a white short pants and a matching color round-collar t-shirt (it showed how I really look) plus a shoe of same color. No matter how beautiful or high class my date was, she would never make me feel inadequate, or be ashamed of being seen with me in public; the opposite was actually true. For, if I wear a white T-shirt and a white short pants, and sport shoe of same color I could be a match for any girls (even girls almost half my age) </p><p>
Try stepping into a crowded coffee shop with a young teenage girl and, if you are not matching enough for the girl, all eyes will stare at you with hatred, reproach for cheating an innocent girl. With me, no such thing happened. I was a perfect match for the girl – any girl, anytime, anywhere.</p><p>
And weird, most of my girlfriends were much, much younger than me. If you still have doubts about me, listen to this. After going quite steady with my new girl – who as typical of most of my girls, was exceptionally beautiful and just in her teen, I came to know another girl even younger than my girlfriend, but not that pretty. My girlfriend was 16 something while the younger girl was 15; they were cousins.</p><p>
Anyway, long story short, we agreed to go dancing, the three of us. I was to fetch the fifteen-year-old first, then my girlfriend. </p><p>
Anyway, what happened that made me hilarious and tickled all over, was my date’s father took the trouble to accompany his daughter to the pickup place! Upon seeing the man standing beside his daughter, I froze! The father looked like he was my younger brother. “What?! I exclaimed to myself. </p><p>
Suddenly, I had second thoughts about the whole thing. My mind was frantic with all sorts of thoughts and my heart beat faster. No, it was not the sight of my date dressed to kill that quickened my heart beat, but her father. Upon seeing a man standing next to the girl, I almost freaked out. No! this man cannot be just waiting for his bus, as the spot was not a bus-stop. He must be waiting for me! Her father! Just then all hell broke loose, in my mind. My inner mind frantically warned me – a trap, a trap! Turn the car around and leave.</p><p>
But I did not leave, despite feeling a bit uneasy. It was normal for an older man to feel that way when confronted with your girl’s parents for the first time. But, as a matter of fact, I had nothing to worry about. The man could not be nicer. He did not look me over, up and down. The father was apparently pleased with his daughter’s date. He was all smiles. He wished us a good time; and did not even set the back-by (midnight) rule. </p><p>
Of course; it was nonsense, no such thing happened that evening. On the contrary, everything went well. I was a good marriage material (otherwise parents would never encouraged their daughters to date me. I believed I impressed the man. </p><p>
Weird as it may sound, if I wanted to deter bad people back then, all I had to do was to don a sleeveless T-shirt, which exposes my big, muscular arms. I once repaired a refrigerator for customer (who I considered well-educated people). When the fridge failed again after spending quite a substantial amount of money, she became furious and called me ‘Jack of all trades, master of none. I took it in my strides and agreed to fix her refrigerator again.</p><p>
But when she remarked she had two brothers working as Motorola technicians, and would ask them to be present when I carried out my second repair, I was uneasy. Fixing her fridge I must, but…what if the brothers (who I presumed were not little brothers), or one of them, turned out to be a hot-tempered, and started something, there could be a bloodshed.</p><p>
So, to avoid trouble, I had to resort to donning my sleeveless T-shirt! </p><p>
Fearing the worst, all my workers but one refused to accompany me to the customer’s house by giving all sorts of excuses. They were scared. Even the one that was a bit braver opted to sit me out in my truck outside. </p><p>
I went in alone into the house, half expected trouble from the grown brothers of the lady. But one look at my body and the fearlessness written clearly in my face, the two brothers changed their minds about any plans they might have in mind earlier and were like how I earlier described my date’s father: couldn’t be friendlier. Of course, all went well and I returned to my shop in one piece.</p><p>
I have more scenarios I can relate involving my business or
partying days. In other words, if you like my stories.</p><p>
IN a nutshell, my talkativeness, my story-telling had made all the difference... they have paved the way for me like president Obama of the US did for the Muslim Brotherhood of Egypt to gain powers albeit for a very brief period of one year (but that's another story). </p><p>
But there's one problem - or shall I say question - can I replicate my storytelling like a virtuoso I used to be when telling stories, when it comes to writing?</p><p>
Anyway, I believed if I wanted to be serious about writing I am going to need a professional training to do it right. So, that's why I am taking a comprehensive writing course with The Writers Bureau of England. For no matter how much natural ability I may have, I will never reach my full potential without expert guidance, says the the Institute. Unless my talent comes into contact with an environment where it can develop and flourish, it might lie dormant forever.</p><p>
I admire editors not only because of the powers that they wield but after realizing what they have slaved themselves with before garnering that position of powers and prestige.</p><p>
An editor at a publishing firm is the key to the success or failure of any plans or ambitions of any ones aspiring for a breakthrough (a book deal) in the writing business. A word or decision can spell doom to those plans. Indeed Such is the power of an editor and she's like...'Damn! This piece is something. Hmm, an interesting piece indeed. But can I use it? Is it good enough for publication?’</p><p>
The appraisal is typical of what goes through an editor's mind when confronted with a manuscript that is way too catchy and well-written to be thrown into the dustbin.</p><p>
The busy editor was, let us presume, holding a manuscript which belonged to, say, a school teacher whose only hobby is storytelling. The aspiring writer was sure she took care of all the nitty-gritty; the grammar being her fort in school should pose no problem; the sentences were neither too long nor passive; which left only the spelling and choice of words, her apparent weak links. But she was sure she did spend enough time to see to it they pose no problems either.</p><p>
But, as it turned, it was still not enough. In other words, the book deal was slipping away.
Apparently, she still has a long way to go. </p><p>
But, strict as she is, the good editor also acts responsibly when it comes to fairness. The lady finds it in her to include a few encouraging words for the author of the manuscript in her hand. She writes, “I am so sorry to have to return your writing. This is not a judgment that your work cannot be accepted because of poor quality; but because, we already have the same materials in our stock. So, please do not be disheartened, continue to keep writing and, hopefully, come up with another, different story we can use. You are a talented writer if judged by your work I am reading. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading your story. You may edit the returned manuscript, make changes where possible, and resubmit. Or, in case you are reluctant to disturb your good story, I will understand; but you can resubmit it as it a bit later. Good luck!'</p><p>
There are, of course, many types of editors as there are writers. </p><p>
Some editors, who deal with piles of submitted manuscripts every day, will find it hard to pause and have a second look as a particular entry, unless it is really worth a second look. Their job was to accept or reject submitted stories based on merit; they are not there to be kind. If an entry is good enough for publication, they will deal with it accordingly. </p><p>
some editors can be cruel, though, and would reject a manuscript out of hand the moment he or she finds a grammar flaw or a spelling mistake. The piece ends up in the dustbin just because of one mistake. The unkind editor stops reading the story right there even though it may hold a promise of an enjoyable journey (good read) for the rest of the novel to the end. The abrupt decision of the overworked editor is unfortunate, as it deprives a hopeful writer of a fair and thorough appraisal of her manuscript. </p><p>
So there you have it. It is never easy to be either a writer or an editor. An author has to toil and toil for hours, days, weeks, months, or years before he or she meets with success (Think of J.K. Rowling). Some writer even fails to get anything (except letters to editors of newspapers) published. Editors not only have to ensure the company's stock is full of publishable materials that can translate into regular output of good books, but also has the duty to keep a keen eye open for any submitted story that could be harbinger to a best seller.</p><p>
Anyhow, I am all for it. Whatever it takes.</p><p>
But one thing is certain, I am going to hire a capable editor, whose job is to ensure The Write-Way Gazette is on its way to become your popular sources of insightful and compelling news and other general stuff readers have come to expect from a newspaper or a magazine: me.</p><p>
Sep 25, 2026
If You Think It's Impossible, Think Again!
What seemed impossible could be possible if driven by a strong reason. Let me tell you about a man who could squeeze himself into an earthen jar so small the police didn't for him there. Checked.</p><p>
Who would have thought a fully-grown man could go inside such a small place? Checked.</p><p>
And he did it in a hurry, too, as the police were in hot pursuit. In fact, the police was so hot on his tail they could almost touch him. Checked.</p><p>
About less than a year ago, the police launched a manhunt for Lim Ah Chai (that's his name, and a slew of other names he adopted to get away from the penalty of his crimes). After obviously investigating his movements and haunts for sometime, the authorities tracked him back to his birth place in Kedah. Checked.</p><p>
Though he was afraid, he never thought he would be cornered in his own family home. Checked.</p><p>
That explained why he had to instantly shrink himself a man of 5 feet eight inches down to about 3 feet and a few inches! That's the size that he would have to be to be able to squeeze into such a small jar that the police never thought he would be there at all! Checked.</p><p>
After the police had left, after they gave up, after ransacking the house thoroughly for what (to the fugitive) seemed an eternity, the task of getting him out of the hole was even harder and ten times more painful as the damaged skeletons could not be moved without excruciating pain. Checked.</p><p>
The recovery from the manipulation of his body ( instant shrinking) took months, but he never regained his former physical, skeletal build he was blessed with. He was a broken man in the end both spiritually and physically. He never recovered, and died a horrible death racked with pain and guilt of his crimes. Aptly they say crime never pays! Checked.</p><p>
Do you wish to know more?
Sep 22, 2026
For The Love of One's Child
Two lions - a lion and lioness - went after a heard of buffalos grazing in the African Savanna in what they thought was a routine or normal hunt for food - protein to satisfy their body needs. But what happened next was not entirely expected, buffalos are known to fight back due to their large sizes; they don't fear even a lion - they could gore and hurl fully grown lions into the air and let them fall to their death. They never hesitate to gore anyone within range when they're furious or feeling threatened.
When Lana the lioness pounced on a young buffalo who's a bit separated from the main herd, she thought it would be a piece of cake as always. She grabbed the lone buffalo and sank he claws deep into his back and was about to kill it when nature said no you don't! As it happened a young buffalo from the same herd sensed something amiss, and he decided to investigate the disappearance of a sibling cow from the herd perhaps. When he found it with a lioness on his back, he raised hue and cry and a few from the herd answered his cry for help. The four then rushed to attack the lioness with their horns, hurling her into the air to then with a thud land back on the ground mortally injured.
While the lion was on his own trying to snare a buffalo without success. When he went in search of his partner Lana he's shocked to find her dying (from wounds which he saw with blood oozing out from them), and realized she'd soon die! But before breathing her last Lana presented him with a gift which he would cherish forever -she gave birth to a cub which he later referred to as his son Geto!
Ordinarily he would jump with joy to have a son but with Lana's life ebbing away he's sad and worried. Now's a lion with no care in the world no more! He'd be responsible for taking care of the lactating cub but without mother how could he do that!! How is he going to do it was secondarily important? He's to do it - he has no milk! But still, he can't abandon the cub who's no one else but he the father.
Hence, he never considered it a burden but rather a duty to the small fellow who knows nothing. He tried to get some water to feed him, he drank but what he needed was nutrition, protein to grow to develop his bones and so on. Milk! He knew that, but where to get the milk? Then he began to figure out: there're many lactating mothers of many animals in the Savanna, but the problem was how to approach them and not frighten them away?
He tried the giraffes first; and it paid off! One mother giraffe agreed to allow Geto to suckle on her teat until full. Problem solved!
Not quite! While the milk problem was solved, others came to cause misery for the father lion. One day while Geto was playing by himself changing his own tail to while away his time he was seized by a mother eagle to bring him back to feed its young. The father lion never stopped kicking himself for allowing son to be left alone to enable the bird to pick him up! Realizing the almost impossible way to rescue his son he's besides himself with anger and frustration.
He doesn't know if it could be done - going to rescue his son from the bird's nest perched on top of the hill; but one is certain he will do everything to save his son no matter what!
Professional climbers use robes and hooks and iron claws while he will have to make do with just his claw nails!
If he fails or chickens out his son will be consumed by the eagle's chicks probably over a week or several days! The thought sickened him; and he swore he'd never allow any such thing to happen to his lion cub, comes what may he would bring him down even if from the top of Mt. Everet!
The good news is the father lion succeeded in rescuing his son and bringing him down to jump into a lagoon or a pool of water appeared from nowhere like God sent!
To view the action of the video please <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dfK3wttULrg">Click here</a> Checked.
Sep 20, 2026
An Ancient Story Passed To Me By My Grandaunt Which I Wish To Share
<p>At the foothill of Bukit Perak (Perak Mountain), there is a village called Kampong Ti Ti Akar. Ti Ti Akar is a typical village like those exist elsewhere in Malaysia. That's where the similarity ends, though. Checked.</p><p>
In this village live about 800 people of Siamese descends, and are all Buddhists. There are many similar villages in the Pendang District, about 28 miles from the capital city of Alor Setar, also populated wholly by Siamese - but we are here to tell the story of one village. Checked.</p><p>
Before I go further, I want to mention that being Buddhists the Siamese in these areas of Kedah never have any conflicts with anyone, whether Malays, Chinese or Indians. Although interspersed with Malay villages who came later, the region is known as the Siamese area since ancient time when the Siam Kingdom ruled Malaya. Life is a mundane affair through and through for these villagers. They are mostly paddy farmers who also own fruit orchards and rubber plantations. They sell jungle produce, fruits and tap their own rubber trees for latex to be sold as scraps. Paddies are planted once or twice a year - the yields are mostly sold to rice mills and the rest stored in mini houses built next to their houses to sustain them until the next seasons. Checked.</p><p>
In this village for those who know exists another village - an alter ego of it, if you will. Let me tell you a story of an age undreamed of. This village known as Prai Ramai was a village like no other. It's the nesting place for the dragons! Checked.</p><p>
The skies over the village are darkened with flying dragons for certain periods of the year - their nesting seasons. They posed no danger to the villagers below. The villagers themselves viewed the flying serpents as a form of deities who live in heavens.
Even after the dragons vanished mysteriously one day, they continued to worship them religiously until modern days. At least until about 60 years ago, according to elders. Because of their belief and devotion to the dragons or the spirits which they left behind, they continued to live in peace and safety. No calamity or disasters ever touched the village, ever. Checked.
Even during the Japanese invasion of Malaya, nothing bad happened. The Japanese infantry came from the north and moved south, during world war2. During their march through Kedah they laid waste to all area in their paths. People were killed and tortured mercilessly using all forms, while some were kidnapped to be used as mules of transport. Nobody was spared, young or old or even babies. It's a tale of sorrows. Checked.</p><p>
But, believe it or not, this catastrophe didn't befall Prai Ramai, the dragon village! No Japanese soldiers came and, by extension, the villagers were spared the infamous water treatment (Water to be pumped into victims' bodies and then drained again by using planks placed on their stomachs to be stepped on by boots of the soldiers). Checked.</p><p>
The villagers believed the dragons protected them by making their area invisible to human eyes! It's said, every 100 years or so the villagers would offer their sacrifice in the form of giant wooden replica of the dragons which they (Everyone that's able to walk) collectively pulled by their bare hands a wooden dragon without the wheels for about two kilometers from one end of the village to the other. Checked.</p><p>
It's not known if the sacrifice and the worshipping of the dragons as deities was still practiced in modern days. I will have to interview elders - if any left alive - to let them shed some light. But that's another story! Checked.</p><p>
Do you wish to know more?
Sep 18, 2026
Why We Pray?
"'By that, I mean .the Chinese and Jews! These people seemed to be holding up their hands to heavens more than other races or religious groups. I recalled my own mother-in-law's praying habits or devotion to God as extraordinary - even extreme you may say. For (believe or not) she's praying all the time. Every five or so minutes she would head to where she kept her joss sticks, get hold of and lighting them for prayers. At any time you glance at her my mother-in-law who's from China, you will see her lighting or holding joss sticks! She's probably the only one in this world who prayed like that or I won't be writing this. Were her prayers answered? Yes. They were. I believe she's the luckiest woman alive too. She always won her bets when it comes to games of luck, but the money would be distributed to children and grandchildren instead of spending on herself!' - 'indeed, she's the luckiest woman alive back then, and an unselfish one too! Checked.'"
How A Persian Cat Changed A Woman!
Jenny and Kitty's story (How a Persian Cat changed a woman)
Hillside, Tanjong Bungah Year 2000
When I moved to my new house at Jalan Sungai Kelian which I had just bought after toiling for years to make it happen, I was aesthetic. It was a dream house which I had been searching for for years before taking the plunge.It was perfect for me as I needed ample space to house 12 cats and eight dogs.
After having had to make do with the limited space of my shop in town which was tiny when compared with the house, for which they adjusted admirably well, though, my dogs and cats would be in for a pleasant surprise.
I ferried my furred friends in my half-ton truck (lorry) in four or five trips. Each time I arrived with my baggage I felt like being watched with disapproving eyes by neighbors. Nobody came forward to welcome me and my baggage; nor did I expect them to either. You can't expect people to be overjoyed at seeing you arriving with what looked like a mini zoo, can you? But as long as they didn't try to stop me from moving in into my own property, there shouldn't be any problem.
As I was to discover later, these were peculiar people; they don't like complications, inconvenience or a baggage. They also don't like, beside cats because of the furs they say, trees. None of the houses along our road had planted trees in their back gardens, except the one I just bought (from a Eurasian family).
I don't understand, why most people don't like trees. They think nothing of cutting down a tree, although they know trees provide shade from sun rays. However, this article is not about telling people how to live their lives.
But, still, sometimes I wonder then why housing developers went to great lengths, when launching new housing schemes, to elaborately include trees and rivers or lily ponds , for example, with descriptive words such as living next to nature in their advertisements, to attract customers? Colorful artist impressions incorporating nature complete with descriptive words or phrases such as healthy living, etc were the norm.
Is this the right strategy?
But I digress.
This story is not about Penang people's likes or dislikes. I couldn't agree more with the cliche that one man's meat may be another man's poison.This s about how a woman who until I (and my baggage)came to be her neighbors, could not stand cats and, although she was not allergic to cats or their jettisoned furs, did not want to have anything to with them. I found this out when she accosted me one day, and we chatted over the fence.
Our conversation went something like this:
- My neighbor:"Hi, David! How are doing?"
- I said:"Hi, I am good, thank you" in return.
- And she was like: "I see you have.. how many..er. let me see..1, 2, 3, 4..eight dogs. My goodness! How are you going take care of them, David? Why you like to keep so many dogs, David? You're keeping them for sales, aren't you? My father as you may have noticed, keeps only one dog and yet he struggles to care for the dog; to bathe him, take care of his ticks and other illnesses and you rear up to eight dogs. Not to mention the cats. Oh my God!"
- Me: "It is not that I like to keep so many dogs, what for?, but I had to.These canines came into my life by accident, if you will. Some people may have no qualm about leaving behind their pets when they move to a new place, I could not a thing like that. These animals, including the cats, are my friends."
- Me: "So, how's your job at the Penang Mutiara?"
- She: "Fine. I manage."
- She: "How are you going to keep the cats, David? How many..did you say..again?"
- Me:"Twelve."
- She:"Can they mix with the dogs? Can the dogs bite them?"
- Me: "No, they won't bite. They used to live together at my shop in town."
- She: Well..but for me, dogs I can live with but not cats. I don't hate them, though, they are just not part of my life, that's all."
- She: "OK, see you around, David! Thanks for your time."
- Me:"See you around, Jenny!"
And with that she disappeared into her house through the back door.I didn't talk to her again until a few months later. But we did exchange pleasantries like Hello whenever I saw her or she me.
Jenny asked me about a cat, a beautiful cat, her mother said she saw a few weeks ago behind her house where they had zinc roof and cemented floor.
I told her, yes, I also saw the cat. In fact, I rather like this cat; so he or she could stay if that's what she wanted. There was plenty of room for everyone.
It was a Persian cat.. you know, with those large face and a small mouth. Very cute. Extremely beautiful and adorable. Anyone who sets eyes on this adorable creature will sure fall for her beauty. I warned Jenny -- intended more as a joke, though -- not to go near her. But it's true she was so cute she became irresistible. What if, say, you fall for the Persian cat and want keep her but can't?
That's exactly what happened with Jenny (or I won't be writing this article).
Unbeknown to me, her mother and she had been treating the Persian cat well -- so well, in fact, she never showed up at my back garden again; which was understandable as my neighbors have been plying her with gourmets like seafood platter..which no cats can resist.
For a while, everything was fine. Everyone was happy. And, I noticed change in the lady. Of late Jenny seemed to become chatty and always in good mood. Although she had been always happy all her life, she became so happy, like she was floating instead of walking and all those minor health problems she had had disappeared.
Jenny was like: "Oh, God, I am the luckiest girl on this planet; and then picking up Kitty and holding her tight to her bosom, she whispered in Kitty's ears..'And you're the luckiest cat on this planet..because Mummy loves you so much.'"
However, Jenny was also worried that it wouldn't last. Her mother even told me Jenny treated the cat literally like her daughter. They slept together in her bedroom, although her husband also shared the bed. As soon as she reached home from work every day, her thought was for the cat. She would call out and Kitty will climb onto her lap. Her life couldn't be more perfect. And it couldn't, until...One day and as out of the blue as she turned up (entered Jenny's life), Kitty left! Disappeared. Left without a clue if she was coming back! Jenny's world came crashing down, just like that. I told her to pull herself together, don't take it so hard. I promised to find him, or find another Persian cat for her. But I might as well be talking to a brick wall.
She even refused to eat any food until she could get back her cat. I couldn't blame her for pining for her beloved cat. I also pined and cried for my dog once.
Jenny took it so badly that I was worried for her. I was afraid her work as an executive at a premier hotel would suffer. I didn't want that. Her mother didn't want that. Jenny herself I am sure didn't want that, too, but was too overwrought to listen.
Jenny asked me to help her; so we went searching high and low over the place; we visited every adjoining house; combed the bushes and made ourselves very visible to Kitty by calling out her name: ...Kitty! Kitty! for heaven's sake if you're nearby please come to Mummy!" Jenny burst into tears, again. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, but there was no sign of Kitty.
So we reviewed our options and reasoning. I asked Jenny whether she showed any temper to Kitty. She said no. Before she left, did she show symptoms of being ill, she said no.
I reasoned with Jenny's mother -- since we treated her right she had no reason to leave, unless...Kitty missed her owner and went back. If that's the case, let us pray the owner never caged her (to prevent her straying again).
Jenny was so overwrought that she stayed in her room all days. I was so worried she might try something stupid, I decided to have a talk with her. She agreed to meet me but kept crying.
So I got up and asked her to look at me. I told her I would find Kitty if she was still alive. I promised to find Kitty and bring her back by all means.
She asked what I meant by all means.
I told her I possess a certain power to bring her Kitty back but, she must not reveal my magic to anyone unless absolutely necessary.
Jenny said she would do anything, give anything to anyone who had the power to bring Kitty back to her.
But I also warned her even I have no doubt my power, it would not be a hundred percent guarantee. I told her for example, if she didn't believe in me or my magic, then I might fail. But since I was confident in my power and seeing her overwrought like that, I went ahead to help Jenny.
I started chanting in her back garden and mine. I even went to the park to chant some more.
But there was no sign of Kitty yet. I told Jenny to believe in me and my magic, to never give up hope; who knows..
But after three days of chanting and waiting, Kitty failed to show up. Jenny was beside herself with pain of loss and almost was forced to fear the worst for Kitty. When all seemed lost and hopeless, Kitty returned to her Mummy!
A lady who lived a few doors away from Jenny's house came to ask me to rescue my cat on her roof. I told her I would be right over; the cat was Kitty! I leaned the wooden ladder against the wall and climbed up. Kitty was up there looking to climb down now that there was a ladder.
I reached out to her and we both came down (under the approving eyes of her Mummy).
Looking at Kitty while holding her, I told her: "You gave Mummy a fright by running away, don't you know that? But Mummy forgives you. Everything is forgotten. Just promise Mummy you won't keep doing what you did.
When I handed Kitty to her, Jenny couldn't contain her happiness; she cried and cried. And Jenny told me she owed me one.
For me, I had never seen a happier woman. I was glad I could be of help.
Because of my visibility of being animals, especially dogs and cats' protector and care-giver, people tend to turn to me if they need help concerning dogs or cats. The lady must have thought if there is any problem with fighting or violence, she could call, sic, Alejandro; if concerning cats she should call David!
After the problem was solved and the two were together again, Jenny morphed into...an animal lover like no other. When I told Jenny I felt like moving back to town but was worried about the hundreds of dogs and cats I used to feed daily, she assured me my cats and dogs would be in good hands. Her hands! Then I thought, to myself, how people could change. All it takes is something very precious to us and that contributes to our happiness -- or something that could make us whole, again (like Jenny's Kitty). According to the Aunty her mother, Jenny went out to buy a giant pan (fit for cooking food to distribute during Ramadan) to cook to feed my dependents! There must be hundreds of them all over Hillside. I don't know if she continued till today I have no way of knowing as I had left Hillside long ago. Or anyone took over where she left off; for she would be in her 70s now. Any way, nothing lasts forever! Checked. Do you wish to know more?
Care For A Trip To Hell?
<a href="http://davidrubinlang.newsvine.com/_news/2011/09/01/7554808-care-for-a-trip-to-hell-anyone#discussions">Care for trip to hell?</a>
SyriaInTurmoil commented Nov 8, 2013
#1
comment author avatar
YOU
<p>What I think? I think it would be one helluva tour. But I don't see why would people want to go to a place like that; a place of misery, where extreme forms of pain and torture are inflicted, or believed to be inflicted, to make life there ...well...hell! While there's no denying the intriquing side of it, such as the spookiness emanating from it which some may find to their liking, I am deterred - or shall we say spooked - by the absence of guarantee given by the organizers ...that one can return safely.</p><p> That I cannot compromise. And I don't think anyone would either.</p><p> The eeriness many can't avoid feeling when they look at the billing for the tour is unmistakable: 'Tour To Hell Anyone?' Notice the glaring absence of assurance (in conjunction) such as : 'Dont Worry It's Safe; No One Will Be Left Behind; You Can Go To Hell And Return!' </p>: <p>Here's a thing. Not only I will give it a miss but also think this type of tour will not be a sold out one ... for obvious reason.</p>
A trip To hell A trip of No Return
Notice the spooky title?
Okay, if you're tired of life because the old hag (your once young and beautiful wife) at home has made it miserable by becoming old, this may be what you're looking for. You don't care whether the tour was billed as a "Tour To Hell" with the words "And Back" greyed-out. The greying out was not by accident; the tour leader, who happened to be <a href="http://davidrubinlang.newsvine.com/_news/2011/09/01/7554808-care-for-a-trip-to-hell-anyone#discussions">Rev Khek,</a> never promised anything: whether you could see hell, experience hell, or two giant woks boiling and torturing sinners; or meet departed family members or friends. But nevertheless he assured all and sundries, it can happen. You can go to hell and meet your loved ones if you can believe in what you are doing and focus. You're in trance for the duration of the tour. Physically you stay put in you seats in full view of your family members (to watch over you). Only your souls lift off and depart. While the Rev Khek doesn't promise no one will be left behind, he can snap you out of the trance upon his return to his body sitting among you.
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