I'm watching something on TV that reminds me of this girl in my Islamic education class in Year 5. Yeah, like 13 years ago.
We were learning about reproduction, and it was actually the first time we learned the actual names of reproductive parts. Well of course a lot of the terms are derived from Arabic as if they sound more elegant in the holy language.
The teacher was very matter-of-fact because she was trying to be clear and informative. You know, it's never easy teaching kids about sexual intercourse but I think she nailed it (pun totally intended).
So there's this one girl who kept making sad faces while the teacher was very graphically explaining how to do the nasty and get babies. I asked her what was wrong, and she said, "I can't believe what my parents had to go through to make me. It makes me love them even more. To think that I have 4 big brothers and sisters, meaning that including me, they had to do all those things 5 times! I'm glad my mom told me I'll be her last child. That means she'll never have to go through all that sex stuff ever again."
Come to think of it now, that was very cute of her. She actually thought that sex was some kind of torture you have to endure in order to beget a child.
If that were the case, I'm pretty sure teenage pregnancy wouldn't be as rampant and rapists would be non-existent.
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Saturday, August 27, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
The Believer's Real Home
A couple of years ago, I met a Persian guy somewhere in Italy. We talked about a lot of things. And by a lot, I mean we actually spent hours just sitting and chatting in front of this square overlooking a huge fountain.
"You're a Malaysian Muslim right?" he asked me. I nodded. "Ramadan is coming. Are you really going to do it? It's summer, it's like 40 degrees out, and the day is reeeeally long."
I told him I'd try. I've been doing it my whole life in Malaysia and it's not exactly chilly there either. It's all about willpower.
"Why are you asking? Aren't you going to have to do the same thing as well?" I asked.
"Nahh.. I was born and raised a Muslim, in Iran. But now I'm pretty much agnostic, I don't do Ramadan," he replied.
"So you don't believe in the afterlife? Hell and heaven?"
"Well, I do believe in God. But all the other stuff sounds made up," he said, followed by a pregnant pause. He obviously was thinking of something and choosing the right words to express his following thoughts.
"The thing is," he continued, "I watched my people get oppressed since my early childhood, all in the name of God. Hell I, too, was oppressed, only I was too young to realize it and thought that was how Islam was supposed to be. When I had the chance to go overseas, I saw different things that made me second guess my culture and eventually give up my faith altogether. By the time I discovered the real teachings of Islam, I was already too pissed to actually consider going back to it."
His voice trailed off, so I remained silent.
"Every time my people got shit thrown in their faces, the only thing they'd say was 'Let's all just persevere and get through this. We'll all get the best reward in the end. Jannah (heaven). That's what God promises us.'"
He then looked me straight in the eye and said, "And those wishful words make me hope there is actually Heaven, because these people really deserve to be in it."
"You're a Malaysian Muslim right?" he asked me. I nodded. "Ramadan is coming. Are you really going to do it? It's summer, it's like 40 degrees out, and the day is reeeeally long."
I told him I'd try. I've been doing it my whole life in Malaysia and it's not exactly chilly there either. It's all about willpower.
"Why are you asking? Aren't you going to have to do the same thing as well?" I asked.
"Nahh.. I was born and raised a Muslim, in Iran. But now I'm pretty much agnostic, I don't do Ramadan," he replied.
"So you don't believe in the afterlife? Hell and heaven?"
"Well, I do believe in God. But all the other stuff sounds made up," he said, followed by a pregnant pause. He obviously was thinking of something and choosing the right words to express his following thoughts.
"The thing is," he continued, "I watched my people get oppressed since my early childhood, all in the name of God. Hell I, too, was oppressed, only I was too young to realize it and thought that was how Islam was supposed to be. When I had the chance to go overseas, I saw different things that made me second guess my culture and eventually give up my faith altogether. By the time I discovered the real teachings of Islam, I was already too pissed to actually consider going back to it."
His voice trailed off, so I remained silent.
"Every time my people got shit thrown in their faces, the only thing they'd say was 'Let's all just persevere and get through this. We'll all get the best reward in the end. Jannah (heaven). That's what God promises us.'"
He then looked me straight in the eye and said, "And those wishful words make me hope there is actually Heaven, because these people really deserve to be in it."
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Shitgivers
The only way not to give a shit about something is to actually not give a shit about it.
If you complain, or rant, or become infuriated, or write a Facebook status saying "You don't like me? I don't give a shit", that means you actually give a shit. In fact, all kinds of reaction towards something are signs enough that you give a shit.
For example, a bush on the roadside is something people really never give a shit about. Nobody ever tweets, "Wow, a bush on the roadside!", since people are very genuinely indifferent to bushes on the roadside because bushes don't really have any impact on their lives.
If you really don't give a shit, the only way to show it is by not acknowledging it at all. If someone unfriends you on Facebook prompting you to write "Who do you think you are? It's a good thing you unfriended me because honestly I don't give a shit", you're clearly the sore loser in this battle because you just proved to the world that you actually give a whole lot of shit to his unfriending your sorry ass.
If you complain, or rant, or become infuriated, or write a Facebook status saying "You don't like me? I don't give a shit", that means you actually give a shit. In fact, all kinds of reaction towards something are signs enough that you give a shit.
For example, a bush on the roadside is something people really never give a shit about. Nobody ever tweets, "Wow, a bush on the roadside!", since people are very genuinely indifferent to bushes on the roadside because bushes don't really have any impact on their lives.
If you really don't give a shit, the only way to show it is by not acknowledging it at all. If someone unfriends you on Facebook prompting you to write "Who do you think you are? It's a good thing you unfriended me because honestly I don't give a shit", you're clearly the sore loser in this battle because you just proved to the world that you actually give a whole lot of shit to his unfriending your sorry ass.
Monday, August 01, 2011
Wagyu Beef
For all steak lovers out there, you just have to try Tony Roma's Wagyu Ribeye Steak. I had always wanted to try the very sought after wagyu beef, and after my first taste of its heavenly juiciness, I know for sure that all the other beefs are never going to be good enough anymore.
It costs a pretty penny, but if you really really love steak the way I do, I can guarantee that it'll be well worth the money. It literally melts in your mouth.
That is, if you order it rare or medium rare. If you're thinking of ordering it well done, then there's no use in forking out RM 120 for the wagyu. Might as well just go to a run of the mill steakhouse and order a normal black pepper steak.
It costs a pretty penny, but if you really really love steak the way I do, I can guarantee that it'll be well worth the money. It literally melts in your mouth.
That is, if you order it rare or medium rare. If you're thinking of ordering it well done, then there's no use in forking out RM 120 for the wagyu. Might as well just go to a run of the mill steakhouse and order a normal black pepper steak.
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