Franken Companions

More often than not, students do not usually have much memories of their “Cikgu Besar” (Principal, Headmaster or whatever it is they are called).

This is simply for the reason of proximity, or lack of it, unlike the classroom and subject teachers whom we see, hear and converse with every day of the week.

Nope; the Cikgu Besar is someone who sits in a lofty place high up in the school hierarchy.

Sometimes I do wonder if this causes a detachment to the (ahem) raison d'etre of why schools exist.

Before even the (ahem, again...) allegedly racist “Cikgu Besar” debacle, sorry, misunderstanding, (at least according to Education DG), I was confronted with just such an incidence which prompted similar misgivings on these lofty teacher-cum-administrator.

A few weeks ago when my daughter was late to her school in Shah Alam on a Mon(Assembly)day due to a bad case of traffic holdups, she was rounded up with her fellow latecomers and given a berating by several teachers.

Nothing wrong with that, as what was spoken were pretty much spot on – wake up early, prepare for contigencies bla bla.

Then spoke the Cikgu Besar.

She asked where the students live.

My daughters says, truthfully, Meru, and this, shockingly, sets of a tirade from the Cikgu Besar of parents who sends their children to the most convenient of schools without considering the lethargy of distant commuting et cetera et cetera.

Somewhere along the lines, out came something akin to “We don’t want outsiders here" during the tirade.

(Actually, lots more came up which I have since buried in my grey matter.)

My daughter is only 8 this year. Very much like me, she is the sort who keeps things bottle-up inside, and I don’t think I would ever know of the episode had I not decided to hang around the school then.

Had it been my better-half instead of me there, the Cikgu Besar would have had to contend with much more than just silent disapproval.

My daughter was late. Fine. Punish her for that offence.

Casting aspersions against her for being not from the area is similar to the so-called “pendatang” call from the Johor school principal.

What they are essentially saying is this: “You don’t belong here. ”

Not the same, but eerily similar in context.

Did it leave any impact on my daughter? Like I said, she retained much of my traits including those of letting bygones be.

Me? I’m wondering what goes on in the mind of the Cikgu Besar when she said the things she said.

Frustration? Indignation? What was it?

We have decided to move her out from the school next year. Perhaps it is better for her to be closer to her home, but the way lives are lived these days still means that she will have to transit somewhere before she goes to the religious classes and later gets home.

Perhaps it is time for me to seriously consider a full time writing career.

At least that would then put me closer to my daughters (the younger one is also due to the national schooling system soon).

Lest some aloof Cikgu Besars accuse my wife and I of “Not loving our children enough”.

Yes: that was another contention made in her tirade. In my daughter’s face, mind you.

Nasty, isn’t it?

"You live, but you don't."

Kang Kodos

“Query over aliens using credit cards to buy petrol.”

Not only are they here in Malaysia Truly Asia aka 1Malaysia, they are also apparently buying OUR subsidised RON95 using credit cards.

Must be a common sight too – these aliens pumping subsidized fuel – as there is hardly any picture of them anywhere in either our MSM or NMSM newspapers, MSM or NMSM news portals, et cetera et cetera.

Shame of these aliens for tapping our subsidies, isn’t it?

Here we are slogging hard to fork out enough moollah for the government to be able to give back some in the form of subsidies and these ALIENS zooms in, used their credit cards, pump our RON95 subsidised fuel and zooms off again.

At least that is what the HEADLINE implies, that is.

As I don’t usually read NST these days, am not sure whether the same headline is used in the print issues. It is a weird slip unless the word Alien and Foreign is understandably interchangeable, that is.

I.e. Ministry of Alien Affairs, the Alien Student Exchange Programme, Alien Exchange Rates, the need to study Alien Language..

Hmm… That is totally alien language there.

In the meantime, Samuel L. Jackson – whose mugs seems the basis for Marvel’s Ultimate’s Nick Fury – announced the cast of the upcoming Avengers movie.

Robert Downey Jr. as Iron Man, Scarlett Johansson as the Black Widow, Chris Hemsworth as Thor, Chris Evans as Captain America, Jeremy Renner as Hawkeye, and Mark Ruffalo as The Hulk.

I didn’t see iron Man I and II, will not be going to Cap America, Thor is a maybe NOT, but Avengers? This is a definite, highly possible “Maybe”.

Just hope that it would be along the lines of the super hip Brian Michael Bendis or Geoff Johns’s than Jeff Loeb’s Ultimates/Avengers scripting.

Can’t wait.

Soulful Reminders

I’m on the morning school run of late, sending my daughter and have since been tuning to IKIM’s radio station (91.5FM).

There’s a delightful morning Zikir every 7am, followed soon by a morning motivational talk before the 8am news snippets.

You’re not far off to think Radio IKIM as filled with theology-centric items but you’d be surprised. Just this morning, the motivational speaker (missed his name, shame on me) quoted Donald “You’re fired” Trump in his talk.

His talk centred on what Islam could provide to a nation so advance that everything seems to have been catered for. He was talking of Japan, of punctuality, of advancement in technology, etc.

To great nations and even greater people, he said, Islam provides the sense of purpose: The Why.

I can only regurgitate so much of what was conveyed during the morning talk, but what was running through my mind was this: despite the greatness of Islam, so-called Islamic countries don’t have anything to offer the world.

Nothing at all.

The fact remains that we have to go back centuries for the glory days of Islamic civilization is the sad testament of how we have erred from the path of greatness.

The middle path of moderation, of sincerity, of progress. In total contrast to what is occurring in some countries including our own.

Weird in that Donald Trump came up in all this, isn’t it?

Not really as the good Ustaz quoted the billionaire property magnate saying something along the lines of “Success without happiness is nothing” or something like so.

Yes, I know that it’s easy for those moneyed to say so, but Trump was talking of his own context of being divorced from his former better half.

I believe in Islam, this is the concept of Redha (acceptance?).

Two examples come to mind: extreme ones, really. The first is something I read in New York Times quoted by a mid-level Afghan official in the face of assassinations committed on his colleagues.

Others have either given up their struggle to provide a better future for country, or armed themselves with security personal.

He says this instead: His life and death is God’s, and if God decrees that he should die, he will die. Wherever, whenever, however so.

In other words, he will not shirk from his responsibilities. He accepts what is happening as something decreed by God.

The other example is the Palestinians. Here is a group oppressed in their own land while neighbours – some richer beyond belief – lift not a single finger to help. Being in such a situation would have broken even the strongest-willed.

Unless, that is, they accept their predicament as God’s will.

I used to be cynical about the surplus of attention to the Palestinian cause when there are other oppressed (muslim and non-muslims alike) group all over the world, but not anymore.

Instead there is now only admiration of their strength of resolve and faith.

Especially since it brings forth a question I don’t dare (can’t?) provide an answer.

“What do I have to offer?”