Rainy Days

It has been a while since it rained like this.

I liked it when it rain, lying down on the bed solemn­ly; while read­ing on the last book of Har­ry Pot­ter, The Death­ly Hal­lows. A cup of nice hot lat­te beside me, while I slow­ly imag­ine my jour­ney in the mag­i­cal world of Hogwarts.

Yes, I have bought the book from Bor­ders. A price that I would pay for then to buy it from the hyper­mar­ket, togeth­er with all the hype. No pun intend­ed, thought. I am glad to announced that I have fin­ished the book in a day, and I am glad that I have not giv­en up, like any oth­er book that I read. Per­haps it was because I like to read about Har­ry Pot­ter. Per­haps I liked about how con­tro­ver­sial the issue of Daniel Rad­cliffe, the young magi­cian in Har­ry Pot­ter movies played in Equ­us. I liked the fact that Daniel’s body is nice­ly curved and shaped to my lik­ings; but that is not the point here.

We all liked fine art, but hav­ing lived in Malaysia for almost eter­ni­ty, it shows me of how closed mind­ed some­times peo­ple in Malaysia can tend to think. We are not talk­ing about lib­er­al fam­i­lies and all, but rather how the gen­er­al Malaysian’s per­cep­tion when it comes to nudi­ty. Of course, these are then tied to the social ills that we have in the coun­try. The coun­try is try­ing so hard to tell the world that we are of a good nation; we are an Islam­ic country.

Yet, in school, our text book tells us of uni­ty. Our text book tells us that we are a multi­na­tion­al coun­try, and reli­gion is free for all. Of course, they have not for­get to put a point, that Islam is the offi­cial reli­gion of the coun­try. Hav­ing that said, I think it is ridicules to tell the world, that we are an Islam­ic country!

I read the book May 13, well at least I tried to read it. It talks about the racial behav­ior and the clash­es of “clans” in Malaysia. Come to think of it, I don’t call myself racist. In fact, I called the Malaysian Gov­ern­ment being a racist, and I can show you some facts that they are.

I am the third gen­er­a­tion born in Malaysia, a paper with my Malaysian cit­i­zen­ship. I have my rights to vote, and I pay my tax­es when due. Yet, the most iron­ic part of this all, I am not recog­nised as Bumiputra.

Bumipu­tra trans­lat­ed lit­er­al­ly, it means “son of the soil”. Seri­ous­ly, which part of me being born in Malaysia, the third gen­er­a­tion, and yet I do not qual­i­fy for that title.

We often sell in brouch­ers, telling peo­ple that Malaysian is a peace­ful coun­try. Oh, but we have got snatch thieves, we have got rapist, we even kill peo­ple with plas­tic bombs. Yes, we are still a peace­ful coun­try. Our Nation­al Ser­vice men don’t even know how to prop­er­ly clean a M16. See? We come in peace.

Oh, in case you were search­ing for Daniel’s pic­ture. It’s this con­tro­ver­sy one. Brought to you by CedricAng.com

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