Showing posts with label hate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hate. Show all posts

Monday, 30 January 2012

Bleepping Kitty Dipping

"The EPF is assisting the rakyat to own houses; it is commendable that EPF is doing a public service."

Please. The EPF fund is not a Tabung Sosial for all and sundry.

It is OUR Simpanan Hari Tua, and we expect the fund to be managed for OUR BENEFIT and the way I see it, the huge RM402 billion fund is nowadays the Main Kitty for the government.

No wonder PMNTR was so smug with his declaration that Malaysia does not need to borrow from the IMF, bla bla bla..

Of course. Not when there’s a huge Piggy Bank with an almost open access to its content to be dipped into.

Assisting the Rakyat to own houses? Yeah, right...

It took me a long and often financially painful journey to be able to finally afford a home which a chunk of my hard-earned savings plonked into the EPF helped purchase.

Now, it seems that some Rakyats will get their loans to Perumahan Murah from the same EPF fund.

A small portion, I must concede, but the dipping into the kitty has been going on for years now like nobody’s business.

Who know what else the EPF fund has been subsidizing of late.

According to the Big Kahuna who seems to be popping out everywhere these days, (Side comment: A bid to propel him as THE MAN in view of an upcoming GE13 battle against Nurul Izzah perhaps?) there is nothing to worry.

"If the buyer does not repay the loan, then action will be taken. The house will be forfeited and sold to some 30,000 other housebuyers who are eagerly waiting for a chance"

Funny Ha Ha.

And where - pray tell - will these other 30,000 house buyers – whom I assumed will similarly come from the poor and down trodden to qualify for this – get their funding from?

Together now: THE SAME BLIPPING EPF-CREATED FUND.

As the Malays are fond to say: Gali lobang tutup lobang.

Stop dipping your greasy palms in the kitty as one fine day, it will dry up.

All it needs is like some 400 similarly-conceived schemes to supposedly HELP the RAKYAT.

KUNUNNYA.

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

Shaded Eaves


An orchard that’s hectares big
Its aft runs a - unsullied water - creek
Carpeted green hued grass that is inches thick
A horizon that shows just a glimpse of a snowy peak

The plot once barren is shared by brothers three
Plough, trough, shovel in hands, they were pretty carefree
Working the land, down in the dirt, their palms all sweaty
Dreaming of a day they could live a life free and easy

Three men, a trio of family, a single bungalow
Two stories tall, a huge balcony for moments to mellow
In times past, long days of working until the sun casts shadows
Building a life, a future but looking no further than tomorrow

Romantic endings are really bollocks in the realm of reality
So arguments, tensions and a locking of horns were quite plenty
Didn’t get in the way though of their focus on ideals so lofty
Of living a life together blessed by the God Almighty

Generations past the golden aims are starting to fray
Utopian objectives mostly unachievable could no longer hold sway
Divergent interest, selfish inclinations putting long held visions at bay
All eyeing for a bigger bite, a larger share, the proverbial payday

Now the graying grand bungalow is all crumbly and rickety
Its occupants too busy, too engrossed in the parlay
The plumbing clogged, cracks unplastered, basement unattended and dusty
Do they not notice, don’t they care, or just wishing these away

Then one day
When emotions were in play
A tweaking of notions
The setting of motions
A casting of doubts
The severing of already weakened clouts
A bullying an ousting
Of persistent mongering
Insults whispered aloud
Insolence mucked so proud
A cocktail of fear and hatred so blunt
A once brother thus shunned

I too have a say, he says
In this house to live, to play, to stay
You’re too much, the other two though countered
Taking everything and leaving nothing, they thundered
Amidst the rising litany of shouts, the eaves do tremble
Symbolic shame of blood relations once so humble?

Outside the creaking bungalow the wind rustles
Blowing fallen leaves tempering dusty panes and musty spaces
Forgotten plough, trough, shovel, rusting in shades
A bungalow, an orchard, a dream soon fades