Are you a son of the soil? or of the night-soil?

These were my thoughts written ten days before the last general elections five years ago on the 27th April 2013.

Today, ten days before the next general elections, I am reminded of this ongoing predicament I face as a Malaysian Citizen, segregated by way of my ancestral origin.

For decades, the ruling parties that formed the government have been drumming the B-word into our ears:

Bumi putra (Sons of the Soil).

This all too familar B-word is a powerful word. It distinguishes Malaysian citizens into two classes, "B" or "non-B". Under the power of this one single B-word, you must first look at the mirror and examine yourself before you do anything, e.g.

before you buy a house,

before you apply for a place in a university,

before you apply for a lorry permit,

before you apply for a scholarship,

et cetera

Before you can do any of the above, you need to ascertain whether you are "B" nor not "B". In other words,

To "B" nor not to "B", that is the question . . .

The ruling party tries very hard, unrelentingly, to make the "B" people feel constantly threatened by the non-"B" people. The slogan "defend our race and religion" is constantly echoed from town hall to convention hall.

They constantly remind the "B" people that they are the Sons of the Soil. By implication, the other citizens of Malaysia are not from the same soil. Instead, they are from other soils.

Thus, whilst the non-"B" peoples are citizens of our country, they are nevertheless not sons and daughters of the Soil. They are merely "granted" permission to stay on this soil called Malaysia. But remember, only the "B" people are the sons of the soil.

As a result of many years of ongoing, unyielding and unwavering efforts by the ruling political party, many discriminating policies have been formulated and implemented throughout our country, in the name of affirmative action, under the label of "economic policy" , to give priority and preferential treatment to the sons of the soil.

Consequently, the B-people are the preferred people. They are the treated as sons of the soil.

Meanwhile, the non-"B" people are the less preferred people. And they are made to feel like they are night-soil.

Fellow Malaysians, in less than ten days' time, we are going to the polling booth to cast our votes. Let us elect a government that treats ALL Malaysian citizens as sons of the soil.

Let no one be treated like night-soil. Anymore.

The journey of a thousand miles

First steps on the journey of a thousand miles

Since my retirement in 2015, after 32 years of full-time teaching, I had been taking small incremental steps towards living a more fulfilling life, doing something that I like, that I could not find time to do as a hard-pressed busy teacher. That something was to write and to sing.

Both of these, writing and singing, help me fulfill a passion: "To make people happy in entertainment and recreation".

By early 2016 I had the opportunity, with the help of kind and generous friends, to sing and play the guitar with a small group of experienced veteran singers and musicians. Over the two years since, I have garnered sufficient experience and skill, with lots of practice,  to arrange my own guitar chords for more than 200 songs and to play the rhythm guitar in any key upon request during public performance.

That was, but only a first step in a long journey of a thousand miles, perhaps even more. There's a lot more to improve on in singing and playing the guitar in the years ahead.

Last week I managed to put my best foot forward for a second step in this quest to fulfill my dreams: I applied to and became accepted by the Malaysian Writers' Society as a candidate member i.e. a member who has not published any works before. I availed myself the opportunity to participate in my first "Write-in" workshop with several experienced but friendly writers, some of whom have dozens of novels and short stories published in their name. I was a green-horn among them but, happily for me, I was readily welcome into their midst.

All my own writing so far has been in the form of short personal articles posted in my blogs. A religious blog, "Wisdom of the Ancients" in which I write my observations from my daily Bible readings, has about 180 articles of varying lengths accumulated over nine years. A hobby blog, "My Bicycle Rides", on my long distance cycling events with friends, was started four years ago and have slowly gathered about forty posts.

Last week, I started a new blog called, "Moments of my Thoughts" to post short articles and poems of my encounters with things and people around me. So far I have written four little poems there.

This is my second step forward. I look forward to the day when I can published my first book, perhaps a collection of devotional studies of the Bible, or an anthology of short poems, or perhaps a short story in a magazine.

There's a thousand miles  ahead and many more steps to go in this journey into a new lifestyle.

There's only one step to avoid taking, that is to abandon the journey and give up.

The pond

My friend captured this thought-evoking picture with his camera, and this thought came to mind:

Bright green leaves open up to skies above,
Dull red foliage mirrored by waters below.

Fragile lotus plants dance merrily with love,
Hardy palm trees stand sleepily in a row.

A bright-red flower stands up for a song
With a voice ringing sweet and clear

The dwellers of the pond clap loudly along
To reply the sweet singing with cheer.

The old blue doors

The Old Blue Doors.

They're not pretty, they're not new,
They're neither grand nor stately.
They get brief looks from a passing few,
Those blue doors appear so lonely.

Yet if for a while, you'd take time to stop
And pause for an unhurried gaze,
Those sturdy blue doors at the old quiet shop
Will fill you with a daze.

The waiting bay

The Waiting Bay
-------------------
It is the dawn of a bright new day
And boats are anchored by the bay

All of them pointing towards the beach
They're so inviting, yet out of reach.

Our lives are often like these boats
They sail the seas, we run the roads.

Through storm and gale or bright sunshine
In wind and rain, in weather foul or fine.

Return we must to our waiting bay
To heal our souls for another day.

All anchored fast, pointing to our shore
To rest for the night and to toil no more.

What's on your mind?

Going for a short retreat in Pangkor Island and facebook keeps asking me,

What's on your mind?
What's on your mind?

It's hard for me to tell,
For I'm struggling to find

A clear and vivid vision
Of what's behind my mind.

Of many thoughts I harbour
Of matters big and small

Which one in mind is foremost
That I mind most of all?