Throwing stereotypes out the window

We quarrel, we agree; we are friendly, we are not friendly. But we have no right to dictate through irresponsible action or narrow-mindedness the future of our children and their children’s children. There has been enough destruction. Enough death. Enough waste. And it’s time that, together, we occupy a place beyond ourselves, our peoples, that is worthy of them under the sun, the descendants of the children of Abraham.

King Hussein of Jordan, 1998

“You should watch A Mighty Heart, it’s a great film.” I prompted to a friend once as we were finishing our works in the lab. She didn’t look up from her notebook, but asked, “What’s it about?”.

So on and on I talked animatedly about the true account of the journalist Daniel Pearl who was kidnapped and killed by terrorists in Karachi, Pakistan.

Amidst my talking, my friend suddenly hopelessly exclaimed, “Oh, it’s always our fault isn’t it?!”.

I remember feeling so overwhelmed by her reaction. It felt like an instant rush of blazing blood ran up to my head, and being taken over by a feeling so powerful - anger, fury, and dismay - it caused me to feel as if I am capable of strangling my friend’s neck and make her done with it.

Thankfully, I didn’t. But I did throw a fit it made my friend recoiled with surprise. I wasn’t angry at her, it’s her reaction I’m frustrated with. Coming from a friend I’ve shared countless debates and dialogues with, her remark wasn’t something I had expected.

It’s simple thinking

We’re living on shaky grounds these days, aren’t we? As young adults, we are facing numerous grueling issues which needs our attention and principles to stand up for. Everywhere we turn, expectations and judgments are posed to us, sadly, with the ultimate pressure coming from our own crowds.

It is undoubtedly difficult trying to establish our own foundation and still hoping for security and approval at the same time. Sometimes it is easier for us to adopt simplistic approach towards certain issues. But as put aptly by writer Walter Lippmann, “when all think alike, no one thinks very well”, we simply skip the laborious thinking process and pick up someone else’s ideas on the road to shed some light to our problems.

The result is continuing cycle of blame and endless attacks to which we contribute no fruitful solutions but empty rants and grandiloquence.

Still, we wonder from day-to-day what a living hell the world is, without realizing we are one of the agents fueling it!

M. Scott Peck in his Road Less Traveled series describes few possible reasons for us to opt for simple thinking.

It could be due to our grave need to preserve our sense of self-identity, in the case where one has always to be right.

Those of us who tend to see ourselves always as a victim, simplistic thinking become an escapism from being responsible for our own choices.

Meanwhile, there are lots of us too who are simply incapable of thinking in perspective to account for the consequences of our actions.

All of the above considered, it’s blatant narcissism.

Carving our own path

What if we create the world of our own ideas and traditions?

What happens if for a second, we forget about stereotypes, labeling, and assumptions - and begin to look at the world in our own eyes. Unpolluted. Remember how we often see the twinkle in a baby’s eyes, and their unassuming smile?

Somehow going for our dreams becomes easier, once we disregard our worries about the judgments people passed to us. Somehow finding beauty in the world is effortless, because all those labels people branded on things no longer matters once it’s our own eyes, our own heart, our own comprehension, we are using to see.

I remember a secret a fox whispered to the Little Prince - ‘very simply; you can only see things clearly with your heart. What is essential is invisible to the eye.’

Nevertheless, opening ourselves to the world requires dedication to readily accept (or rather, to deal with) truths.

It’s a rollercoaster journey to our understanding of the world.

Sometimes it contradicts us, it pulls us to the bottom pit of denial, it challenges us personally and forces us kneeling down to admit our mistakes and change our views. Sometimes it swells us with joy and inspiration, it proves to us our nudging conviction all along and finally allows us wings to fly our dreams.

No more instant excuses being thrown at problems we refuse to be a part of, no more scapegoating others for issues we know we are capable of contributing to, no more wallowing in self-pity and habits of falling victims to petty troubles we recognize are not worth our attention.

Looking at the world using our own eyes means learning to be ready to accept full responsibility for our existence on earth and be accounted for it.


The entry is inspired by Queen Rania’s project on YouTube, “Send Me Your Stereotypes”. Queen Rania recently launched her YouTube channel to invite dialogues between all citizens of the world to discuss about stereotypes on the Arab and Muslim world.

The Jane Austen Book Club

The Jane Austen Book Club
By Karen Joy Fowler
Penguin Books, 288 pages

If you’re the type who read books for the love of life and cherish the ambiguous humor and paradox the life has to offer; The Jane Austen Book Club is for you.

The story, as its title suggests, revolves around the celebrated six Jane Austen novels and how each stories are interconnected with the five women and a man of the Jane Austen Book Club members.

Set in Sacramento Valley, a university town in California, the book club was initiated by Jocelyn to act as a distraction for her close friend Sylvia, whose husband recently decamped for a relationship with another woman. An expert at getting people together (Sylvia’s husband Daniel was Jocelyn’s boyfriend in high school), Jocelyn considers herself as the “Jane Austen who wrote wonderful novels about love and courtship, but never married”.

Grigg, the only male member of the all-Jane-Austen-all-the-time book club, was initially invited by Jocelyn as another of her matchmaking attempt for Sylvia. Originally an avid fan of science fictions, Grigg on the other hand has a different idea on whom he would like to court.

The other three female members of the club are Allegra, Sylvia’s sensitive but gregarious gay daughter; Bernadette, a witty sixty-something veteran who has seen it all; and Prudie, a fragile high school French teacher who always seem to be seconds away to breaking down due to memories of her neglectful mother.

Playful and observant as Jane Austen herself, the lives of the members of the Jane Austen Book Club is narrated in parallel to the Austen six novels where the members take turn to host discussion of one novel in their house every month.

Six members, six months, and six Austen novels.

Instead of a novel with a plot, The Jane Austen book Club could be seen as the author’s fun attempt to explore character’s lives through the plots in Jane Austen novels. Quick-witted and funny at times, each character seems to have their own valid cultural observation on the world of Jane Austen in relation to their own. Sylvia for instance, in the event of her daughter accident, asks Jocelyn “Why should unhappiness be so much more powerful than happiness?”. She believes herself as the practical Jane Austen who was a daughter, a sister, and an aunt, without the happy ending.

I had read The Jane Austen Book Club way before I watched Pride and Prejudice and read Sense and Sensibility (the only Austen novel I had gotten over so far). Besides, I had read it even before I could grasp the power of being “an acute and nonpartisan observer of people” I didn’t remember whether I had enjoyed reading it or not. These days, as Jocelyn “who could have all kinds of hobby she wants because she is never married”, I read the Jane Austen Book Club again in conjunction with its newly released film and I find myself laughing out loud despite myself.

As put aptly by the producer of the film version of The Jane Austen Book Club, you don’t have to read Jane Austen to read the novel. Instead of a mere replication of Austen novels, Karen Joy Fowler managed to put the stories of the all-the-time-all-Jane-Austen book club members to stand on its own any Austen virgin could enjoy it.

If you love life and are capable of laughing at its apparent incongruity, that is.

Sense and Sensibility: A girl's guide to friendship

It took me a week to finish Sense and Sensibility, my first Jane Austen’s novels.

Watching the 1995’s version of the book at the beginning wasn’t helping. Because Austen’s detailed description of her plots and lengthy dialogues sometimes drained my patience, and having known the ending to the story added the labor.

Nevertheless, Austen’s meticulous and sometimes ironic observation of her society kept me glued to the book through to the end. Although many who hasn’t read Austen would quickly assume her novels are about romance and the pursuit of marriage, which is correct in a sense. But in Sense and Sensibility, the plot is not as important as the picture depicted by Austen about the 1800s’ society’s manners. In a culture where single girls’ ultimate job is being pretty and getting married, Austen women shines through as witty and intellect persons.

Marriage and courtship aside, what struck me most with Sense and Sensibility is how the relationship between the female characters was portrayed. The dynamics behind relationships of each character posed an uncanny resemblance to my personal experiences and observations of today’s women.

Sense and Sensibility tells the story of Dashwood sisters, Marianne and Elinor, who are naturally opposites. Cautious Elinor believes in careful discretion with others, while Marianne is fiery, as she doesn’t believe in concealing her emotions.

After the demise of their father, the Dashwood sisters, together with their mother and another younger sister, Margaret, was forced to move out of their house in Norland Park since by inheritance, the house falls to their half-brother, John Dashwood, whose wife Fanny, is as cunning as her proud mother, Mrs. Ferrars. Through a brief encounter with Edward Ferrars, Fanny’s brother, Elinor was believed by her mother and sisters to have gained his affections.

The family moved to Barton Park by the kind offer of the Dashwood’s cousin, Sir John Middleton. At the Barton Park Marianne’s romance began with Willoughby, and Elinor was surprised with an engagement news of Lucy Steeles to Edward. The sisters rollercoaster pursuits of love took many surprising turns where in the end, cost Marianne her health.

Although the main plot was about Elinor and Marianne’s journeys towards marriage, Sense and Sensibility talks about the characters’ relationships with each other in depth and almost with similar weight. Given that almost 80 percent of the characters are women; five Dashwoods, two Steeles, a Middleton, a Jennings, a Ferrars, the story centres around the relationship amongst these women, and Austen description of her characters is so sharp we could share their passion and sometimes feel their cunning motives.

Frank vs. Prudent

Having received their education from independent readings, both Elinor and Marianne are individuals of their own opinions. Even Margaret their younger sister, adores Mrs. Jennings, Sir John’s mother-in-law, because she talks about things and not just the weather.

However, the manners which two sisters carry their opinions are different, as Marianne prefers to let her opinion heard and her feeling portrayed. For example, her acquaintance with Fanny and Lady Middleton, Sir John’s wife, was never tolerated because she couldn’t stand the rudeness and insipid selfishness on their part. On the other hand, Elinor, although having different ideas to her counterpart, she often act primarily to their interest. Like when Robert Ferrars, Edward’s brother was talking narcissistically about his plan and love of cottage, Elinor simply agreed to him because she doesn’t think he deserved the compliments of rational opposition.

Marianne’s approach could easily cost her company, because demonstrating disagreement with someone’s personality would discourage any friendly attempts on his or her side. But having Elinor’s prudence, on the other hand, means to tolerate bland conversations and company made for sheer reasons of flattery and insincerity.

In want of understanding

One of the reasons which makes Austen’s characters outstanding is it seems each one of the women is making friends with the other for their personal reasons. Perhaps it can be viewed as opportunistic, but I rather see because these women, in the company of each other’s comfort, need an understanding which validate their characters. For example, Lady Middleton, unlike her mother and husband, is a lady of elegance and very little words whose comfort seem to be found only in her children. She is uncomfortable around the Dashwoods, because she was ashamed of doing nothing before them. Though she was pleased with Fanny, as there was a kind of cold-hearted selfishness on both sides; which mutually attracted them.

Meanwhile, Lucy Steeles, to whom Elinor is her bane of existence for obtaining Edwards regards. She was henceforth determined to demonstrate their close engagement by insistently talking about it with Elinor, in agreeable manner, which in turn makes it difficult for Elinor to refuse or ignore.

Austen’s guide to friendships

As simple as it is, and as anybody in any field would recommend it - being confident with ourselves and having a life of our own is the only key to great friendship with our female counterparts.

Elinor and Marianne surpassed the superficiality of Lady Middleton or Lucy Steeles because both of the Dashwood sisters understand their own strength and weaknesses and respect each other for it. There was no attempt to conceal their opinions from each other simply for acceptance or in the act of kindness. Meanwhile, by being grateful with what we have and pursuing our dreams which make us whole, we’ll be making friends with people of similar goals who could offer us momentous inspirations. Instead of, God forbid, making friends with people whom we need approval from for the lack of our drive and dreams.

Perhaps it can be argued Elinor and Marianne is the best of friends because they are sisters. Not entirely true. Because I never had any sister, but I do have friends of the same credibility as both Elinor and Marianne, and all of which are as independent, strong and expressive.

It is true too, usually my closest friends are the one I am harshest to, while others to whom I didn’t offer my two cents, perhaps because I don’t think they deserved the compliments of rational opposition.

Tudung: Beyond Face Value

Tudung (Hijab); Beyond Face Value
By Salinah Aliman
Bridges Books, 100 pages

I read once about the guy around the block, a term coined for a man encountered by a woman more than once in her life as a partner during a separate time in a different life.

As such, this book is therefore the book around the block for me.

The thought-provoking title of the book had caught my attention while I was in Dar-ul-Kutub (The House of Books), the university bookstore when I was a freshman. I had bought and read it with a sense of pride and entitlement of a lifelong hijabi. I hadn’t read it with the intention to learn, but simply to affirm and decidedly prove what I had already believed in.

Simply put, the book was taken for granted. Now the book sits silently, its spine fought itself to surface amongst other books covered in dust.

A couple of weeks ago, I received a gift from my blogger friend. As the gift arrived while I was in a rush to leave for official matters in Kuala Lumpur, I took the package with me partly hoping to open it somewhere on the road, only to bring it home yet untouched.

I opened the parcel excitedly the following morning, as the book cover made its way through the torned package, I felt my breath hung in the air. Ever wonder how it feels like to meet the ex-boyfriend on the street, only to fall in love again as if for the first time? Oh, you know the drill.

The coffee table book was published in Singapore, it features a calm and thoughtful reading on the issues centering tudung and those who dons it. A collection of articles presented are adorned with articulate and meaningful photography, and written by authors ranging from knowledgeable Imaam and religious scholars, to freelance writers and filmmakers, to women of different professions; doctors, software engineers, and proud mothers.

In the book, tudung is aptly introduced in the first chapter in relation to its status in Islam and how it is significant spiritually and socially. The inter-dependent relationship between faith and modesty was explained, hence putting hijab as one of the important benchmarks in Muslim women’s life.

Reading Tudung:Beyond Face Value again allows me to finally relate to and understand the experiences of being a tudung-clad woman as portrayed in the articles. Despite being a religious conduct, donning hijab in Malaysia (as in Singapore and other multiracial countries) can be a cultural practice, which is not at all wrong for it helps with nurturing the practice. But in the end, embracing the spiritual meaning tudung entails to its wearer is undoubtedly a personal choice and responsibility.

I particularly love the articles in the final chapters where female writers themselves conclude tudung is but another article of clothing taken out of deliberate choice. A woman’s true value and beauty is to be seen beyond her outward appearance. Ironic as it may seem, but it actually applies to every woman out there of all races and religions.

While a Muslim woman is not to be judged as being oppressed when she put her hijab on, she herself is ever more encouraged to look beyond religious and cultural differences to bridge mutual respect and compassion to everyone in the society.

Tudung:Beyond Face Value is a great source of reflection for everyone from all walks of life, its contents are especially befitting to a multiracial and diverse country like Singapore, Malaysia, and Indonesia. In fact, the term unity in diversity is portrayed accurately enough in the book where I think we Malaysian lots have a lot to learn from.

Much ado about works

How many of us today stands in front of the mirror and consequently feels proud of what we are now, without a hint of regret for not following our young dreams we had once upon a time?

How many of us today are still wondering why, for the love of God, are we still putting off those wishes we intend to pursue one day?

How many of us today are going to work simply because it pays?

It’s not easy making decisions for ourselves these days as a young adults. Because everyone in the world is ever so prepared to give us their two cents worth of advices of how things should go from now on, having finished the excruciating university years and holding a degree in our hands now.

It’s suffocating too, sometimes. Because all you get upon greetings by former teachers, long lost friends or distant relatives is so, what are you doing now? It’s only been a month since we finished our bachelor’s degree, we haven’t even had our convocation ceremony yet! Still, in no time we are being landed (forcefully or not) on the tracks of the rat race.

I have the chance to encounter several people in different lines of works which I took advices from on the career path I’m going to take. A lot inspires me, a few are merely sensible, while notable ones are, sad to say, downright ridiculous. The following I already put in a different categories:

1. The academia lots.

I stumbled upon a relative, who is seemingly a successful academician with big cars and a large mansion. Admittedly an expert among students, she asked me what are my plan after graduation. I answered simply, light as a day without realizing I had mentioned about declining an offer to be a lecturer. To my surprise, she suddenly broke into a fit, saying I had thrown a good offer out of the window. To add to the grievance, she confidently mentioned about how slim my chance is to get the scholarship I wanted for my choice of study.

I might risk a confrontation by saying it, but few of my lecturers are not quite different too. It shocked me to see how pathological the drive of certain people to step up the academic world. It’s barking mad!

Fortunately, a lecturer or two are clearly passionate with their subjects. Like Mr. S, whom with confidence had defended his subjects with a great stance of at least if I die, I can say I had learned about the world a little bit more than others. It was about the only time a profit-driven bioprocess expert earned my admiration.

2. The survivor lots

We might have chosen different things to prioritize in life. Some chooses family, some chooses career, some chooses religion. Different as it may be, each of us have a reason to inspire, as long as we are doing things we deserve to do. I talked to a TUNZA journalist I had met in Cologne. Affable but composed, she told me about how she wanted to write. As she had studied poetry in college. But as she had her baby, she had to work for something more tangible. A friend of mine is eager to start her family, right after graduation. Two are already engaged and soon to be married. For my friends, the foundation for their cause would be their family and how they want to build the foundation.

Oh, how it would take a lot of guts, and it offers every reasons to inspire. Setting yourself aside for others, practicing for altruism and philanthropic world? Family is always a good place to start!

3. The passionate lots.

These would be of those who started off doing something and ended up doing something else, and those who is simply inspiring in their everyday job, no matter what they do or how they do it.

Mr. Songpol, with his calm demeanours and smiling face, had easily chatted to me while we are waiting for our servings at a brauhaus in the cold city of Cologne. An engineering graduate turns news editor at the Bangkok Post, he assures me how a journalist doesn’t actually need to be all rapturous and vibrant, because it’ll defeat the purpose of observing people and turning the live situation into words later.

My female icons are endless, each with her own strength and beliefs in her advocates. Be it in women right, environment, or humanities. A supervisor who took me under her wing during my internship is one such individual, I am still scared of her (but inspired, nevertheless), sometimes.

I recently learned about Zainah Anwar, and decided to take after her in certain things. Chong Sheau Ching is still my favorite author, for I share similar academic background and working aspirations as she had. Kathleen Kelly, Celine, Maddie, and Tessa, all are my favorite characters I base my dreams on.

My mother had asked me few times about what I actually dream to work as, I could not really give her a straight answer. For I can only take one step at a time for now, each step I intend to take me closer to my dreams. As any other youth, I want to believe I can trust in my dreams, and I wish for those around me to have faith in my dreams. If we want a freedom to make choices, we believe the freedom to make the choice is now. All we are asking for is faith, a faith in these young hands to carve their own future.

To my friends, I know it’s not easy to make the decision on our own sometimes. But stand up for what we believe in, and people will see how trust can be put upon our shoulders. Read, go out, get to know more people - it will make you see how those dreams, stored at the back of your minds, are all made to be real.

So, are you today where you want to be?

Rules of attraction

It starts with a chance encounter. The element of surprise would always give you away, after having done all the mundane routines; going, waiting, and returning - his sudden presence at such unexpected times comes almost as a gift, a present for you.

The scientific laws

Next comes the impulsive sizing up of the choosy female in you. Your eyes fell ultimately first on his strong jaws and prominent brows. As he curiously searched the crowd, and finally stopped to catch you in the act, your heart skips a beat, until his serious face breaks into a wide grin, obviously amused. You smile back, warmly, seriously, as if being kind instead of shying away.

You do not proceed to think of anything at first, because throughout the course of twenty years of your life, you have decided to put forth self-respect and dignity above everything else. You accepted the existence of boundaries between yourself and the surrounding males, which if penetrated with selfless acts could leave a mark so deep without you ever intended so.

Until of course, a friend approaches you to say hi with the very object of your esteem by his side, you could not help but be glad to find his broad shoulders and narrow hip so easily cloaked with his white t-shirt and blue jeans. More so as he look at you, evidently surprised at such trite coincidence. Having shared a little secret now, both of you nod and smile at each other with a twinkle in the eyes.

It’s good to know you too, your heart secretly wished. You smile to yourself, regaled by the sudden emergence of the cheeky voice in you, which you know often indicates trouble.

Subjective reality

Subconsciously, you begin to realize the opportunity presented to you at the moment. The thoughts you have always dream about; the whats and hows of your first meeting with the significant other starts to find a way to manifest itself.

Eager to project a strong persona, you sit up straight and lean forward a little, asking him a few questions about himself. He answered sweetly, and ask several questions in return. Both of you would have continued to talk had your friend not interfered. Affectedly bashful by your interest and your friend’s teasing remark, he smiles at his drink. You throw a shot of look at your friend, silently asking him to be understanding.

As you do not want to be too intrusive, you retreated. Resting yourself against the chair, you retired to become the observer of the conversation among the two men. An admirer from afar. You laugh along their jokes, throwing in a comment or two. The situation did not permit for anymore revelation of his personality, as much as you wish to know. But you did share a number of glances with him, and hoping it would flourish into something.

There are times you feel like giving in to fate. Because sometimes the world seems to work in random and reality is out of your control. What if he is simply one of the many men to appear in your life, but who is not supposed to leave any mark? You surely know how bleak is the definition of love at first sight given your previous failed (or rather, faux) experiences.

Alas, you are a person who knows herself, and the power of believing in the beauty of her dreams. You do not fear failure or disappointment, hence you are always ready to enjoy things while it last. You assume responsibility of your actions, and therefore you possess the power to create and channel the reality to become your dreams.

So you continue to enjoy the conversations, even at times only indirectly. You give him the occasional discreet look, the secret smile to say I am here. A few times your friend caught you in the act, you had to casually laugh it off.

Lowering the love costs

Soon arrives the time to part, and you are keen not to leave things hanging. Especially after he had walk especially towards you to say his goodbye. You are frantic at the forced separation. You look at your friend, attempting to make it looks as if you are handing him a few stuffs, while mouthing to him playfully, I like your friend. You sure hope he gets the message, because guys are known to be hopeless at such things.

As you walk home that day, you are giddy with confidence and hope. Though with time a realization dawn upon you how unlikely it is going to work. You had to cross proximity and meeting frequencies out of the possibilities of bringing the encounter to the friendship level. You nearly cursed at no longer having your Friendster account, because otherwise you might be able to dig up something, whatever his name is. But you eventually laughed at the ridiculity of it; you cannot be the young girl with her fancy and delicate relationship game anymore.

You are a grown-up woman now, with strength, passion, and independence only a select few are able to see. You do not wait for love to come around, you live because of it. As much as his sweet smile and deep-set eyes intrigued you, you put him at the back of your mind. Not forgetting him, but not waiting for him either. You return to your friends, talking and sharing with every single one of them. You sit with your family, savoring every moments you could. You read, you sing, and you dream.

So you do what a woman you always envision to be does. You silently wish the best of happiness to your new acquaintance, and convinced nonetheless at the share of your bliss however it may be. You want him to live fully, as you do. Because if chance permits another meeting, both of you will be ready with a cupboard full of adventures to share. But if you are not meeting him again, both of you will surprise another new friends.

The trick is to live the best you can.

Reciprocal liking? You smile at the thought of it, because you are certain there is a tiny glitter of possibility.

Foibles and follies of life

Failing of character, I mused to myself as I was standing in the kitchen, stirring my cup of coffee. My sleep nowadays are filled with long tiring dreams. I wouldn’t call it nightmares, necessarily, but the dreams are intricate nonetheless. I am a believer of how dreams reflects our states of mind, but these days I find it too tiresome to bother.

I wonder, if I write stories based collectively on my dreams. How apt.

As I walked through the hallway, stopping at the large window, I looked out to the street. The street which is never silence. I smiled at the thought of calling the soil my home, not now, not for long.

I suppose the types of people in life are either who makes anywhere a place their call home, or who hardly consider any place close to being home, even their own home. I fall to the latter type, the fearer of emotional claims. A close acquaintance said I ought to be a politician for it. I laughed.

The dishes on the table has already been reduced to sheer scrapes on the plate, I chuckled as I remembered the looks on my brothers’ face as they devoured their lunch; burning hot. I am not a fan of chillies myself, but alas, one tends to underrate oneself.

I winced, a sudden tang of pain shot right through me at remembering the nearness of someone close, at yearning of another comfort company.

It’s certainly difficult to see why a certain somebodies who enjoys the presence of each other can still choose to be happy far apart. Life has a way of expecting different things from us, within minutes we no longer see eye to eye on things once cherished together.

I suppose the difficulty lies there, at how we no can no longer include the person, once in every part of our lives, in decisions we are making for the future. It can easily be overcame, of course, but who on earth today like to talk about these things? People move on, they look forward now.

The cackling laughter of my 2-year old niece suddenly broke the silence of hot afternoon, I walked to the door with a smile I couldn’t usually pull off when I’m around adults and put the thought away at the back of my mind.

Hot weekends like this, who needs gloomy thoughts?