<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165</id><updated>2011-12-20T01:51:56.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Veenas' Caesura</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-838571120633821108</id><published>2011-12-20T01:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T01:51:56.255-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I love how</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I love how&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Coffee swirls&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In my mouth and in my head&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Words dance through the air when I look at you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The cold of the glass feels when I press it against my lips&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can hear the rain outside my closed eyelids&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The triple tone gives me happy words&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Your eyes sparkle when you are excited&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Infectious love is&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Everything, now, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Feels like something&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-838571120633821108?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/838571120633821108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=838571120633821108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/838571120633821108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/838571120633821108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-love-how.html' title='I love how'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-229034499136331852</id><published>2011-11-01T05:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T05:45:25.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Reality</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want to drown myself in a pot of tea&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want it to rain and rain&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ideas and words &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Poetry and metaphors&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t want the worlds’ reality &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Awkwardness and monotony. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Stumbling,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Nervous laughter. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want coffee with friends&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Conversation&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Thoughts and tears&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Creating outlines of brilliance&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want my reality&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I will get there.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-229034499136331852?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/229034499136331852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=229034499136331852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/229034499136331852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/229034499136331852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-reality.html' title='My Reality'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-1056682784673283780</id><published>2011-09-16T12:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T13:01:09.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tanah Air</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:15px;"&gt; &lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bumi yang tiada rimba&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Seumpama hamba&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dia dicemar manusia&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yang jahil ketawa&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I open my eyes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Rub the routine out of them&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The same four walls&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The same surrounding hills&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I sit up &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Its tomorrow&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And I’m closer to home&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bumi yang tiada udara&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bagai tiada nyawa&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Pasti hilang suatu hari&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tanpa disedari&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I turn the shower on&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The music urges me on&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ill get there soon&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Its not that long&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Its not that long&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Time will fly?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I’m closer to home&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bumi tanpa lautan&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Akan kehausan&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Pasti lambat laun hilang&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Duniaku yang malang&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I walk to work&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The same old route&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;People horn in recognition, and wave&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It should fill me with familiarity&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But each day I’m less familiar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And each day&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I’m closer to home&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dewasa ini kita saling merayakan&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Kejayaan yang akhirnya membinasakan&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Apalah gunanya kematangan fikiran&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bila di jiwa kita masih lagi muda&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dan mentah&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ku lihat hijau&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Work&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Purpose&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I turn the music off&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And I tell some one&lt;br /&gt;Today,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I’m closer to home&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bumiku yang kian pudar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Siapa yang melihat&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Di kala kita tersedar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mungkinkah terlewat&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I walk home&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The song plays again&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Another day is over&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I’m closer to home&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh..anok-anok&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;tokleh meghaso mandi laok&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Besaing,maing ghama-ghama&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ale lo ni tuo umurnyo bejuto&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Kito usoho&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Jauhke dari malapetako&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Im on the dance floor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And the band plays the song&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And I close my eyes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No more countdowns&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No more farewells&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh..anok-anok&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;tokleh meghaso mandi laok&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Besaing,maing ghama-ghama&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ale lo ni tuo umurnyo bejuto&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Kito usoho&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Jauhke dari malapetako&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I’m home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(song lyrics from Zainal Abidins' Hijau)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana; mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana;font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-1056682784673283780?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/1056682784673283780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=1056682784673283780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/1056682784673283780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/1056682784673283780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2011/09/tanah-air.html' title='Tanah Air'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-3818313182012655756</id><published>2011-08-30T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T17:42:21.615-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Merdeka</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve been away a long time. Every Merdeka Day, I would make a big deal about it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When I was in University I would carry a flag in my backpack, and so people would ask me why, and then I could tell them all about Merdeka. I would have dinners and invite all my Malaysian friends, I would totally go the distance to make sure that I was celebrating Merdeka to the max, even though I was not home.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was always infused by this patriotic emotion that I wanted to share with everyone.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This year, I AM home, after years of struggling to get here. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And this year, I don’t feel much different on Merdeka day. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I couldn’t figure out why this was. Since I have been home, I’ve met amazing people, had great opportunities and experiences, all of which have only reaffirmed why I have come home. I thank god every day when I wake up to pink skies and the &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;azan. &lt;/i&gt;I’ve started everything that I have put on pause for years now. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I realise I used Merdeka as a vehicle to harness all my sadness and my passion for coming home. I realise I don’t need that anymore.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Right now, every day feels like Merdeka. Every day I get to celebrate what is Malaysian, talk about Malaysian issues, and exalt in being part of a Malaysian future. I’ve been liberated, when I never knew I was trapped.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m finally home, I want to be part of the change I know is happening, I want to be part of the solutions I can feel forming in the minds of the brilliant people around me, and I want to be part of the ideas that shape the future of this nation.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is going to be a great year. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Selamat hari Merdeka!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-3818313182012655756?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/3818313182012655756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=3818313182012655756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/3818313182012655756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/3818313182012655756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2011/08/merdeka.html' title='Merdeka'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-6197625016656808922</id><published>2011-06-22T02:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T02:31:58.909-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Freedom From Fear</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;“ The only real freedom is freedom from fear”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;Aung San Suu Kyii&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;form&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;I watched  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUUSOGXFhNA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;Low Wei Yans  youtube video&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;,  and I liked what he had to say. But I do feel differently about one thing. I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt; afraid to walk on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bersih.org/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;July 9th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;. At this stage, I am going, but not because I’m brave. I’m not. I don’t want to be tear-gassed, I don’t want to be manhandled, and I certainly don’t want to argue with police officers in my questionable BM. I spend my free time eating cupcakes at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;Bisou &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;at Bangsar Village, I would do poorly in prison. There are probably &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;cicak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt; there and stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/form&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;I wondered when I watched this video, or when I read &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.malaysia-today.net/mtcolumns/no-holds-barred/41271-give-me-one-reason-why-i-should-march-on-9th-july-2011"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;RPKs article&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;, or read the countless articles/blogs on why this protest is important and almost, unavoidable for the progress of the country - What are the ethical implications in us encouraging people to attend these demonstrations/protests/walks? Is it not fact that the Malaysian police are a trigger-happy lot, that there has already been disclaimers made, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.themalaysianinsider.com/malaysia/article/ibrahim-raises-spectre-of-may-13-at-anti-bersih-rally-launch/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;certain communities being targeted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;? There are plenty of human rights violations waiting to happen here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;I’m not suggesting that the bloggers, activists and people who are encouraging attendance are being inappropriate or irresponsible. I think it is an important cause and I want a good turnout as well.  And in fairness, most people take a personal stance and explain why they are walking, rather than blatantly spreading glorified propaganda. This is a personal conflict I have which I have been thinking about, the more I read, the more I talk to my friends about whether to go, and the more I think about the risks involved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;I think I would feel somehow responsible for any injuries, or, god forbid, deaths that could result from this protest, if I encourage others to go. Although I share information regarding the event, I don’t think I will encourage or suggest others to attend this. It’s a decision to be taken seriously, and to be taken as an individual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;If you do decide to come, come with the knowledge that you could be arrested, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://blithest.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-soon-you-will-not-be-able-to.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;tear gassed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt; or water cannoned.  You could be trampled and you could be abused. These risks are part and parcel of why this event is important. In principle we are walking because we want &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3BcVg3Sapjk&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;clean, free and fair elections.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;But in my mind, we are also walking for the right to be heard, the right to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt; be afraid to take to the streets in peaceful protest. That is the Malaysia we are fighting for, and the Malaysia we believe can exist. We are fighting for our right to vote in elections that are fair, for the politicians who can make this happen. And if they don’t do it, the same right will allow us to replace them with those who will. And so on, and so on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;We are walking to say hear us, the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt; rakyat &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;are in charge. Walk if you believe in that , but with the knowledge that the fact that we have to walk for this cause at all means that the Malaysia we hope for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;within our grasp, but unfortunately is not the Malaysia we live in yet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-6197625016656808922?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/6197625016656808922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=6197625016656808922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/6197625016656808922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/6197625016656808922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2011/06/freedom-from-fear.html' title='Freedom From Fear'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-6558497197252925288</id><published>2010-09-24T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T07:39:34.878-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Race Rhetoric</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;“There is no restriction in law. In our constitution there is nothing to stop a Chinese or Indian from becoming a Prime Minister. What is needed is support from the majority. If the majority agrees, there is nothing we can do” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tun Dr Mahathir, Prime Minister of Malaysia 1981-2003&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This exemplary description of what is really the basic principles of democracy was uttered by our ex prime minister as a poisonous warning. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;He wasn’t hiding the fact that it was a warning. That was quite clear. The poisonous part however, he didn’t have to say but I’m sure most of us heard it, if not, felt it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can imagine the multitude of responses to this statement, from different kinds of people within different &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;races. I don’t think each race would have responded homogenously, it just depends on the type of person you are. There would be anger, disappointment, vigorous nodding of heads and many other negative emotions. Great start to the next election campaign. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;More disharmony, more conflict, more racist intonations. We have already had so many displays of racism , from educators of the next generation to the rappers (who the next generation listen to). Way to move forward, Malaysia. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Which other countries have a race restriction on their prime ministership? Can you imagine if Australia, or India came out tomorrow and said “actually only white people, or only Hindus, can be the prime minister? “. The world would laugh them off the stage. But in Malaysia, this kind of statement and rhetoric could possibly win the existing federal government their next election. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Let us go back to the last sentence “What is needed is support from the majority. If the majority agrees, there is nothing we can do”. The majority represents the rakyat. I wonder who Tun means when he says there is nothing “we” can do. Who is we?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The way I look at it, if a majority votes someone in for PM, no matter what race they are, that means there are also many Malays voting them in. And if the PM is not addressing issues of concern, they can vote them out. That is all a democracy is about. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No Prime Minister of Malaysia, no matter of what origin, &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;would be able to ignore the plain truths - The majority of the rural and urban poor, those having difficulty accessing health and education services, those suffering from preventable illnesses - these would be Malay people. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;This is not a Malay issue, however, it is a Malaysian one. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;These are issues that deserve attention from politicians and the rakyat not because these people are Malay. Not even because they are Malaysian.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;But because they are people. You do not have to be a Malay or Muslim prime minister to care about the people who are suffering or have less in the country you share with them. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I love my country in a way that words fail me. If you know me, you will know that is some serious love. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And as long as BN runs the country, I will never be able to vote directly for my Prime minister, even if I joined BN! For 3 reasons – I am a woman, I am Hindu and I am not Malay. Does this make sense to anyone? If it does, please explain to me, because I am ready to try to understand. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-6558497197252925288?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/6558497197252925288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=6558497197252925288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/6558497197252925288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/6558497197252925288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2010/09/race-rhetoric.html' title='Race Rhetoric'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-9058194019858371960</id><published>2010-05-01T03:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T03:11:04.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunset</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The sun slips into its envelope of grey cloud&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This perfect circle of red&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mocking the imperfections of humankind&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I watch it fall&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Painstakingly slow into the horizon&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Away from my grasp,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Away from my presence&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I know it will be back&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I know I will see it again&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But it doesn’t make a difference&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Because it still will be dark until tomorrow. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-9058194019858371960?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/9058194019858371960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=9058194019858371960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/9058194019858371960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/9058194019858371960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2010/05/sunset.html' title='Sunset'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-1754391081114788738</id><published>2010-03-28T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T21:51:01.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Difference in Opinion, A Difference in a Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Last night, I met a young Malaysian gentleman, who was a friend of a friend. As is well known to most, I am passionate about overseas-educated young Malaysian professionals returning home. This young man (we will call him Dinesh) is one such example. Much to my pleasure, he had recently returned home after studying in Australia. I asked him three questions. Each answer increasingly surprised me, both pleasantly and otherwise. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;First question: What draws you to coming back home? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He answers. Well, to be truthful, I want to go into politics. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Second question: Which political party do you support?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He answers. Barisan Nasional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, when people tell me they support BN, I always respond with a mixture of fascination and curiosity. I suppose I surround myself with people of similar ideology, okla left wing hippies, but those who share my beliefs. So when I meet a right-winger, and someone who in my view goes against the tide, I always want to know – why? We engaged in pretty lively debate (which I think I won but I perhaps have the upper hand here as I am writing this) about BN vs PR. I tried to explain that I supported certain PR politicians and policies, but am always worried about supporting parties wholeheartedly and with blind faith as of course their course may run awry. I also stressed that I do not and will not support BN until their fundamental structure of their coalition changes. i.e no more race-based parties. I, like many, think there is no place for that in our political environment any longer. He was of the opinion that PR would become race-based eventually, and shared the understandable fear that all the parties have their own agenda. Fair enough, we agreed to disagree and move on. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Third question: Why do you want to be a politician?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He answers. I want to help my people. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;His people. At first I was a bit confused, because I didn’t know who he meant. The penny dropped quite quickly, I can’t claim to be that naive or colour-blind. He meant Malaysian Indians. Which is completely fair, Malaysian Indians are a group that there suffer from discrimination in Malaysia (among many others). I wanted him to be different, I wanted him to say he cared about all Malaysians. Like many in my solidarity hub of a Twitterverse. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I wished I had asked him &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;this&lt;/i&gt; question before the one before, because if I had known his political aspiration, I could understand his decision to support and be a part of Barisan Nasional. It would likely be easier to support and work on policies to support Malaysian Indians from a party representative of Malaysian Indians. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I wanted to tell him that racial politics was a thing of a disappearing past. That we vote for non-racial agendas and along non racial lines. I was all ready to start citing examples of politicians, activists, friends, lawyers, doctors, tourist guides in Kelantan that believe that. I remember speaking to a senior BN guy, who told me he didn’t believe there should be a 1Malaysia, that Chinese didn’t want to be Malay and Malay people didn’t want to be Indian, and Indian people don’t want to be Orang Asli. He says we are all equal in Malaysia, fundamentally because we are all Malaysian, as per childhood, as per passport, as per birthright. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I wanted to convince Dinesh, that ‘his people’ were all Malaysians that were discriminated against, all Malaysians that were poor, all Malaysians with no access to health care or education and all Malaysians that needed a young voice to support them. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But then, I stopped myself. I realised that I was upset, not at Dinesh, but at the fact that he might be representative of a young population that I didn’t want to know still existed in Malaysia. I wanted the next generation of young politicians to be Eli Wong-Sivarasa types. Because they believed in what I believed in. They want what I want for Malaysia and future Malaysians. But, I stopped myself (which is amazing for me!). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Because, Dinesh is allowed to have different dreams for Malaysia. What is significant is that he HAS dreams for Malaysia. He has the opportunity for a easier, more convenient life and he chooses to come back home and make it better in the way he believes is best. A young Malaysian who can vote is hard to find these days, but a young Malaysian who wants to make change for our country is rare and should be appreciated, no matter what. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-1754391081114788738?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/1754391081114788738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=1754391081114788738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/1754391081114788738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/1754391081114788738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2010/03/difference-in-opinion-difference-in.html' title='A Difference in Opinion, A Difference in a Dream'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-2104004323007135041</id><published>2010-02-11T09:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T09:52:50.351-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sure Escape (fictional)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was a good house, with a bad idea. She could see it on her skin, she tried to scrub it out in the shower. She could feel it in her eyes, and she tried to wash it out with her tears. She stretched in out in her false smile to her friends, and she hid it deep in her laugh. It was morning when she stared at the pink marker on the test strip. She realised that what she had feared would be her trap was her sure escape. She closed the door. She realised it had only been her holding it open, and he had been gone a long time. She leant against it, and breathed a sigh of pained relief. It was finally over. Now what? &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She looked at the couch in the living room. It couldn’t be back to normal yet, not just yet. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She sat carefully on the edge of the couch. She turned on the TV to Gossip Girl, where Blair was once again being outshone by Serena. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She smiled. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-2104004323007135041?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/2104004323007135041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=2104004323007135041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/2104004323007135041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/2104004323007135041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2010/02/sure-escape-fictional.html' title='A Sure Escape (fictional)'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-2916695117998254173</id><published>2009-09-09T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T10:24:37.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This Is Not Us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sitting in Kuala Terengganu airport when I read about the protest in Shah Alam. I skimmed through the article quickly. When it was mentioned that a cows’ head had been brought along, I  assumed that it was a figure of a cows head. I even went so far to think “that could be a construed as a respectful gesture”. It did not even cross my mind that this type of behaviour was possible in a society such as ours. Perhaps I’m not that bright, or maybe naïve, but either way it would have been nice to have remained that way a little longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I landed in KL, and was told by my dad that it was a severed cows’ head. I remained disbelieving till I watched it for myself. Even then I remained numb, not reacting, waiting to see what ensued from this incident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was amused when I saw Malaysiakinis headlines were ‘“Don’t blame cowhead protestors” says Hisham’, and the Star blared the headlines ‘“Charge them” says Hisham’. All from the same press conference. Bilateral Bias at its best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I watched it myself. That way I could form my own opinion on what he was trying to say. All this benefit-of-the-doubt-giving to a man who has sorely disappointed and offended us all in the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither of the headlines was what I took away from the press conference. The most striking thing, for me, was when he said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“the organizers, who are sitting on the left and right of me…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was sitting with them. How much more of a show of solidarity do you need. A clear message. You who march peacefully, we will teargas and arrest you, child or man. You, who exhibit violence and cruelty as you march, we will sit amongst you, and find a solution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sat side-by-side with the leaders of the protest, told us they were ignorant of the cow’s head, told us they simply wanted their opinion heard.  He said that bringing the cow’s head was “sensitif’. What does that even mean anymore? Some things are just plain wrong, cruel, disrespectful. Step up, and SAY IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malaysiakini has been asked to take it down because it is provocative. The video is not provocative, the man who is speaking at the press conference is. Aren’t the public the known audience of a press conference. He was speaking to be heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The numbness has worn off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being hindu, I was hurt. Being Malaysian, I was mortified.  Being human, I was disgusted. &lt;br /&gt;The racism, the animal cruelty, the disregard and disrespect of religion, the double standards, the politicians who do not understand the depth of our protests… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not us. Not for one minute do I believe this is Malaysia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are muslims who rush to a temple to show their solidarity with their hindu brothers and sisters. &lt;a href="http://harismibrahim.wordpress.com/2009/09/07/the-beautiful-malay/"&gt;http://harismibrahim.wordpress.com/2009/09/07/the-beautiful-malay/&lt;/a&gt; We are academics and professionals who have spent hours of our lives working towards a better Malaysia &lt;a href="http://thenutgraph.com/"&gt;http://thenutgraph.com&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.othermalaysia.org/"&gt;http://www.othermalaysia.org/&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://malikimtiaz.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://malikimtiaz.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;. We are patriots who are now forced to live away from our homeland &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5pbZNCjoQE"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5pbZNCjoQE&lt;/a&gt;. We are gay men and women, and  transsexuals, empowered to celebrate our sexuality  &lt;a href="http://star-ecentral.com/services/sprinterfriendly.asp?file=/2009/8/23/soundnstage/4563501&amp;amp;sec=soundnstage"&gt;http://star-ecentral.com/services/sprinterfriendly.asp?file=/2009/8/23/soundnstage/4563501&amp;amp;sec=soundnstage&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are passionate young men and women who write, direct, and create art  in the name of learning who we were, who we are, and who we can become. &lt;a href="http://15malaysia.com/"&gt;http://15malaysia.com/&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://10tahun.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://10tahun.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are pretty awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r27Fbx4Crg8\"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r27Fbx4Crg8\&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This&lt;/strong&gt; is not us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-2916695117998254173?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/2916695117998254173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=2916695117998254173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/2916695117998254173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/2916695117998254173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2009/09/this-is-not-us.html' title=''/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-3604040200557263576</id><published>2009-08-22T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T10:13:38.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>undisputed</title><content type='html'>it moves me to poetry&lt;br /&gt;my misunderstood malaysia&lt;br /&gt;the mist among the highlands&lt;br /&gt;i never needed to know where it came from&lt;br /&gt;if i have to leavei want to take with me, a piece&lt;br /&gt;a piece, of undisputed belonging&lt;br /&gt;we will be inseperable&lt;br /&gt;leading each other home&lt;br /&gt;i remember how the grey and white&lt;br /&gt;of the early morning&lt;br /&gt;turned into the greens of the day&lt;br /&gt;but the mist remained&lt;br /&gt;it was always there- still, constant, undisputed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-3604040200557263576?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/3604040200557263576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=3604040200557263576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/3604040200557263576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/3604040200557263576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2009/08/undisputed.html' title='undisputed'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-5628535344715292189</id><published>2009-08-15T12:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T12:05:08.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainbow Massacre</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Like many Annexy (or Annexy Sexy, as one of tonights shows co-hosts put it) events, I had no idea what I was in for when I booked my tickets for Rainbow Massacre. And once again, I was invigorated and impressed with the talent we have in our country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To begin with the co-hosts were funny and spontaneous, with their own brand of sophistication (and I need this, being the hippie-yuppie I am). The acts ranged from Bohemian Rhapsody to original songs by Malaysian artists, all surrounding the theme of liberation, being comfortable with oneself, and being  able to be comfortable with oneself. Again our young Malaysians impressed me with their combination of comedic and musical talents, all the while in regards to a serious and relevant topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My favourite part of the night was at the end when we all were given the lyrics to Sejahtera Malaysia and asked to sing along. One friend of mine agreed that we have never felt so moved by the song.  I was surprised that such a mainstream song was chosen, but I understood later that we needed something we all had in common, and in such a diverse crowd (in so many ways) we really only had one thing for sure. Being Malaysian.To quote Sheila, one of the co-hosts “1Malaysia, 2Malaysia, 3Malaysia, its better than no Malaysia!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have a particular attachment to the song. Before I left to study in Australia, I remember listening to it and thinking about my beautiful, perfect, multicultural country and melodramatically crying at the thought of leaving. As I grew up and read more, my perfect world soon started to fall down around me. I realized I had just bought into the whole farce, and the layers underneath were complex and unjust.  Tonight as we all sang together, truly regardless of race, religion, and sexuality, I felt I got a very real piece of my perfect world back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-5628535344715292189?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/5628535344715292189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=5628535344715292189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/5628535344715292189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/5628535344715292189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2009/08/rainbow-massacre.html' title='Rainbow Massacre'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-8502138939857637031</id><published>2008-09-24T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T20:53:54.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancing Depur</title><content type='html'>The drumming didn’t cease&lt;br /&gt;Even though the party was over&lt;br /&gt;We carried it in our hearts&lt;br /&gt;The next day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We felt the lightness of their feet&lt;br /&gt;And the steadiness of their song&lt;br /&gt;As they wished us well&lt;br /&gt;And thanked us grandly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We felt but tried not to feel&lt;br /&gt;The sadness in their eyes,&lt;br /&gt;The pain in their limbs,&lt;br /&gt;And the burning in their hearts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-8502138939857637031?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/8502138939857637031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=8502138939857637031' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/8502138939857637031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/8502138939857637031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2008/09/dancing-depur.html' title='Dancing Depur'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-3627758370309688199</id><published>2008-07-18T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T10:01:36.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poverty poetry aka the National Poverty Summit</title><content type='html'>Malaysia now,&lt;br /&gt;Is certainly not bereft&lt;br /&gt;Of issues so sordid&lt;br /&gt;As sex scandals,&lt;br /&gt;Corruption and theft&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That I was happy to see&lt;br /&gt;That amidst all this s**T&lt;br /&gt;ASLI and CPPS&lt;br /&gt;Held the National Poverty Summit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 stunning chandeliers,&lt;br /&gt;Hung above a photo&lt;br /&gt;Of a poor woman, child on her lap&lt;br /&gt;A perfect reflection&lt;br /&gt;Of the income gap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite that&lt;br /&gt;Real issues were to be discussed&lt;br /&gt;With politicos and the like&lt;br /&gt;And we were all waiting for&lt;br /&gt;The PM to wield the mike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Badawi strode up, smiley and warm&lt;br /&gt;Who would’ve guessed, miles away&lt;br /&gt;A No Confidence vote&lt;br /&gt;Was causing a storm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Urban poverty is&lt;br /&gt;Rural povertys reflection”&lt;br /&gt;He spoke of strategies&lt;br /&gt;Headed in the right direction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E-Kasih! Microcredit! Zakat!&lt;br /&gt;Health and education subsidies&lt;br /&gt;He says he has put these in place&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the man is not such a disgrace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sulochana Nair&lt;br /&gt;Spoke of all things dire,&lt;br /&gt;Well she didn’t as such,&lt;br /&gt;I just couldn’t rhyme Nair with much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She spoke with passion and haste&lt;br /&gt;Of all the pain and issues faced&lt;br /&gt;But was pragmatic, and sound&lt;br /&gt;She thinks UN guidelines should be applied to the ground&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the MP from Seputeh&lt;br /&gt;Man, shes cool.&lt;br /&gt;Teresa Kok is, in herself,&lt;br /&gt;An antipoverty tool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Low cost housing provided too far away,&lt;br /&gt;There is nowhere for the kids to play!&lt;br /&gt;From this a healthy society can not grow&lt;br /&gt;Indeed from the crime rate this does show&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next was Selangors new Mentri Besar&lt;br /&gt;Who apologized for his poltical faux pas&lt;br /&gt;His controversial immigrant tax, he says&lt;br /&gt;Was misunderstoond in so many ways&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He admitted he was wrong&lt;br /&gt;Which in my mind, is strong&lt;br /&gt;We need more politicians like Khalid Ibrahim&lt;br /&gt;But looking around right now, chances of that&lt;br /&gt;Are certainly grim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were many others of note,&lt;br /&gt;Dr Ng Yen Yen, I can see how why she got the vote&lt;br /&gt;Walao! The way she described it&lt;br /&gt;Malaysians really deserve more credit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The statistics of which she announced&lt;br /&gt;Were based on definitions already denounced&lt;br /&gt;We cannot be proud&lt;br /&gt;Till we have healthcare and education all round&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing was missed&lt;br /&gt;Refugees left out of the list&lt;br /&gt;How do we expect to prevent the urban poverty rise&lt;br /&gt;If a large part of them nobody will even recognise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was many wise words,&lt;br /&gt;and a few foolish turds&lt;br /&gt;But it was heartening to see live discussion&lt;br /&gt;To see in the audience true passion,&lt;br /&gt;In working towards the end of poverty&lt;br /&gt;Because only then,&lt;br /&gt;we will be &lt;em&gt;truly&lt;/em&gt; free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above are all those that stood out for me personally, and in no means sums up and shows the most pertinent parts of the summit. It was by the way, well organised and very interesting! And unlike what is going on in most headlines of most newspapers, MSM and otherwise, these are key issues for our country. CPPS/ASLI has done a fabulous job of putting together a poverty fact sheet, a summary of the summit, and the reforms already in place, and those reforms suggested! Its FANTASTIC!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.cpps.org.my/sub_page.aspx?catID=398&amp;amp;ddlID=401" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.cpps.org.my/sub_page.aspx?catID=398&amp;amp;ddlID=401&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recommend the presentations on the low cost housing. Fascinating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Jeffrey Sachs (my favourite economist) says&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We &lt;em&gt;can&lt;/em&gt; be the generation to end poverty, but &lt;em&gt;will&lt;/em&gt; we?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-3627758370309688199?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/3627758370309688199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=3627758370309688199' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/3627758370309688199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/3627758370309688199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2008/07/poverty-poetry-aka-national-poverty.html' title='Poverty poetry aka the National Poverty Summit'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-6785471423376906921</id><published>2008-07-15T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T08:14:48.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Slavery in Malaysia?</title><content type='html'>June 20th was International Refugees Day- and I received many articles/reports on the state and treatment of refugees in Malaysia. A few things stood out, although upon a background of more chronically terrible facts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing that took me aback was that there was a survey, that had been commissioned by USCRI (the US Committee for Refugees and Immigrants) that had Malaysia in the TOP TEN WORST COUNTRIES in terms of violation of refugee (hence human) rights. You know who else was in this prestigious list?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iraq. Sudan. Bangladesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the countries people are seeking refugee FROM?! I am so ashamed. I thought Australia was bad (and it is) with their treatment of refugees. I should have looked closer to home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things became worse as we read on. One of these violations that earned us such a honoured spot was that Malaysian officials turned these refugees directly over to human smugglers. They then go on to either smuggle them back into Malaysia OR sell them into slavery to Thai fishing boats or brothels as sex workers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our fellow Malaysians are engaging in slavery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started reading up more on refugees in Malaysia. This issue is so incredibly complex, that trying to get one fact-filled, emotion-filled, exhaustive blog entry on it was impossible and not true to the aspects in question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are *&amp;amp;*6loads of other issues that are key, which range from the actual definition of refugee and asylum seeker, the importance of recognition, as well as how refugees are used as a political, religious and racial tool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for now, back to the slavery,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Slavery is known as a system where certain persons are deprived of personal freedom and compelled to work. Slaves are held against their will from the time of their capture, purchase, or birth, and are deprived of the right to leave, to refuse to work, or to receive compensation in return for their labor.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone can point out the differences between this, and whats happening at the Malaysian-Thai border, please do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now before we say “but they are illegal immigrants” or “they are just looking for a better life”, or “what about our own problems” as we eat dinner with our family in the comfort of our homes, lets just pretend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets pretend, that these truly are people seeking asylum, seeking refuge, trying to protect their families, trying to survive life. We not only turn them away at our doorstep, we not only pretend to look the other way, we actively sell them like products to a significantly worse life. A life where even their choice of freedom has led them to a prison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this country. And I know we can do better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whats happening to refugees and asylum seekers here, and the consequences of that to society is a major issue. This is just the tip of the iceberg, to highlight how dire the situation is. Human rights is not some artsy fartsy left wing issue. Its almost all that matters. This is not something we can or should ignore any longer... so watch this space... theres so much more to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-6785471423376906921?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/6785471423376906921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=6785471423376906921' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/6785471423376906921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/6785471423376906921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2008/07/slavery-in-malaysia.html' title='Slavery in Malaysia?'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-7213099324102120628</id><published>2008-05-21T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T16:20:42.901-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Proposal for a new DSM IV diagnosis</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Disclaimer: I realize that this is a ridiculous notion, and I really don’t mean to insult anyone who have made the comments below. I also think that most of us are guilty of making such comments, and although I sound really self righteous in this, I know I’m guilty of this too. This just reflects my anger at some of these flippant comments. It’s a reminder to myself as well that most things happen as a result of consequence, likely caused by society itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Proposal for a new DSM IV diagnosis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who don’t know, the DSM IV is the Diagnostic and Statistic Manual, 4th edition. It is the book by the American Psychiatric Association, and it includes all psychiatric diagnoses and the criteria for these diagnoses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past few months Ive heard many comments like “Homosexuality should be re-included in the DSM”, “the Australian government should not be sorry because they were well intentioned” (this person was referring to the Stolen Generation, and if you don’t know what this is then google or wiki it please), “sex workers deserve HIV/AIDs”. I’m sure everyone could add a few in they have heard, kan? Now this may because Ive left the comfort zone of my hippie, left wing, activist gang and have recently started work in a new place, but these words still came as a slap in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try to argue. You get called “sensitive, argumentative, idealistic”. Whatever people can think of, when they can’t think of logical arguments. I even had someone laugh in my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway as I was walking back from hospital the other day, fuming as I had just heard someone recite the statistic that “8 out of 10 aboriginals – or I think the word native was used- in Australia, are either criminals, or drug/alcohol abusers”. After establishing that this was a statistic completely made up, perhaps from his myopic observations at Victoria Square in Adelaide, I started wondering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do some people seem so narrow minded, and even if they are ignorant of the social problems that underlie some of these issues, why are they so unwilling to broaden their minds, listen and realise most problems are a result of marginalization of some sort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I realized, I was doing the same thing. To these people who were making the comments. I wasn’t wondering WHY they said these things, I was just so angry that they did, and that they took nothing of logic into consideration. Then I tried to explore (in my head, anyway) the reasons that people are like this. Background, upbringing, exposure, education, all these things matter. Of course most of these people had similar background to me, but still there must have been some differences that affected the way we think&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im not saying im perfectly non-judgemental, and have a mind as open as a wicket behind an outlandishly confident batsman. We all have our moments, but the point is you try not to be. There is no point in being judgemental, it doesn’t solve any problem, and its such a headache trying to balance that halo on your head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to my first paragraph – with the comment about homosexuality being reintroduced in to the DSM, I had an epiphany. Maybe narrow mindedness should be a psychiatric disorder, then I could possibly understand it better. The best thing about it would be that like all psychiatric disorders, it would become unfairly stigmatized!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Furcamentis (from the Latin Furca- Narrow, Mentis- Mind)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.  Presence of 2 or more of the following symptoms for more than 5 years continuously &lt;br /&gt;- inability to accept alternative lifestyles, even though these are not affecting ones own life&lt;br /&gt;- concrete thinking and fixed ideas although a logical and more humane explanation is available&lt;br /&gt;- disordered argument process regarding controversial issues&lt;br /&gt;- constant need to pipe up during an argument and profess opinions when no actual knowledge has previously been acquired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note : Only one Criterion A symptom is required if the symptoms are racist or potentially exacerbating of the social problem underlying the argument&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B. Social/Occupational dysfunction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a significant amount of time, two or more people at work are offended or take issue with what is said. Interpersonal relations are strained as everyone thinks you are a bigot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C. Duration&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuous signs of the disturbance persist for at least 5 years. This must be during adulthood, when seemingly free from peer pressure, and ability to think for oneself is present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D. Substance/General Medical Condition exclusion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disturbance is not due to the direct physiological effects of a substance or a general medical condition&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E. The symptoms are not better accounted for by another psychiatric condition or a pervasive   developmental Disorder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that the name I came up resembles a certain expletive, was a mere but pleasurable coincidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I strongly believe that, although perhaps statement of opinion different from mine, does not a psychiatric diagnosis make :), that certain mentalities are detrimental to existing problems related to drug abuse, HIV/AIDs, racism and similar social issues. But perhaps these ideas (that are perceived wrong by me, which I understand doesn’t make them wrong per se) need to be challenged in a open minded manner themselves. Otherwise, change of attitude towards these issues will never happen, and I believe we need this for change for the better within these complex social matters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-7213099324102120628?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/7213099324102120628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=7213099324102120628' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/7213099324102120628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/7213099324102120628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2008/05/proposal-for-new-dsm-iv-diagnosis.html' title='Proposal for a new DSM IV diagnosis'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-11885421088355577</id><published>2008-04-28T07:00:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T07:01:13.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A room with no bed</title><content type='html'>He lay on the floor,&lt;br /&gt;And cried.&lt;br /&gt;This old sick man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood&lt;br /&gt;And my heart broke&lt;br /&gt;In a way its never done before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knelt&lt;br /&gt;And I held his hand&lt;br /&gt;And he held mine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-11885421088355577?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/11885421088355577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=11885421088355577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/11885421088355577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/11885421088355577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2008/04/room-with-no-bed_28.html' title='A room with no bed'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-1563662323021977147</id><published>2008-04-22T16:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T16:41:47.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Matter of Trust</title><content type='html'>Jen and I attended a forum today (shocked?)- called “Who Needs an Islamic State”. Now in our forum going euphoria we didn’t think twice. So we headed on our merry way. When we arrived we were greeted by two lovely ladies from the Muslims Professional Forum who welcomed us, and were excited that we were there. The excitement at these things is so infectious that we couldn’t help but be excited ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All speakers handled this quite sensitive, and very potentially controversial topic with grace. My favourite was Dr Dzulkz – he said “You must allow us to have our views, and follow our beliefs” As well as “I don’t use the term non-muslim, I prefer believers of other faiths". Hell &lt;em&gt;yeah&lt;/em&gt;. The man is a star in my book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, they all had their say, and my heart was filled with excitement for the understanding and open-mindedness that was going on in this seemingly tolerant space. Then the questions began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the questions ranged from the typical crap, to some quite interesting though long winded questions. It wasn’t the questions themselves that bothered me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What got me, was what people applauded at. They applauded things like “how will we create an army without an Islamic state”. People quoted fitna! So basically, for the first time, my emotions at a forum were based on what my fellow Malaysians sitting next to me were thinking and feeling rather than the speakers. The enthusiasm at things I was hardly enthusiastic at, and the disdain of things I passionately felt for were contradictions I was not used to feeling at these forums. Having said that, everything about this forum, except for the presence of Malik Imtiaz, was different about the peri-election forums that I attended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me feel cold, and it made me feel sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me feel like the thought of an Islamic state is scary. And that has nothing to do with Islam. I feel comfortable with Islam, and I trust Islam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trust is an arbitrary thing. Personally, trust is something in my heart. It has nothing to do with practicality. There are certain people in the political scene, that I greatly admire, but that are few and far between that I trust. Is that a good thing, Im not sure. But its me. I trust Sivarasa, and I now trust Dr Dzulkz. I feel I lost something at this forum, and that was trust in my fellow Malaysian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is the hardest thing to lose. I felt shaky, after the forum (we had to go and have a stiff drink after). This land, this country is the only thing in the world I know is mine. Truly mine. And I know I belong to this country and to no other. And that has held me strong for most of my years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I can not trust my fellow Malaysian, I can not trust Malaysia. If I can not trust my own home, my feet have nowhere to land and my heart nowhere to rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-1563662323021977147?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/1563662323021977147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=1563662323021977147' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/1563662323021977147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/1563662323021977147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2008/04/matter-of-trust.html' title='A Matter of Trust'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-7052363306171957239</id><published>2008-03-30T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T21:22:38.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It'll happen</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;It’ll happen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it will&lt;br /&gt;Its in my heart, its wedged between the orifices of my soul&lt;br /&gt;Like it always has been&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’ll happen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tears, the laughter, the fight and the love&lt;br /&gt;Will in the end give way&lt;br /&gt;Like it always has&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’ll happen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The success, the fighters, the struggle and the sacrifice&lt;br /&gt;Will soon be forgotten&lt;br /&gt;Like we always do &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-7052363306171957239?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/7052363306171957239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=7052363306171957239' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/7052363306171957239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/7052363306171957239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2008/03/itll-happen-i-know-it-will-its-in-my.html' title='It&apos;ll happen'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-4395731450514817826</id><published>2008-03-26T00:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T00:18:05.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Campaign against Nescafe... Or Why I think Nestle is evil.</title><content type='html'>"&lt;em&gt;When people try to dismiss those who ask big questions as being emotional, it is a strategy to avoid debate. Why should we be scared of being angry? Why should we be scared of our feelings if they're based on facts? The whole framework of reason versus passion is ridiculous, because often passion is based on reason. Passion is not always unreasonable. Anger is based on reason. They're not two different things. I feel it's very important to defend that.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;The above passage is by one of my heroes, Arundhati Roy. I felt no need to repeat the sentiment, as I doubt there is any reason and any way to express it better. It is common for people to react to activists in this way. To pass them off as passionate and idealistic. In my opinion, these are good emotions. These are emotions that create change. But for some reason emotional arguments lose credibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as said above, passion and anger are borne from real experiences and real facts. So why do people do this? They do this to protect their guilt conscience, because you know what? Its tiring to care. Its tiring and inconvenient to care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t feel like I’m here to protect people guilt consciences anymore. I used to hate being called self righteous, idealistic and naïve. Now Im okay with it, because there are things I have to say, things I have learnt that outrage me. These are things that I know the good, decent people reading this blog will want to know, if they don’t already. Because as my very clever friend Sneha says “These things, once learnt, cannot be ignored”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its so difficult to be ethical. People boycott all sorts of things, for all sorts of reasons. So why do they do it? The reason I personally do it- is so people will ask why. I don’t do it because I think Nestle will go under if I stop drinking Nescafe, or that Pfizer will stop producing useless doctor paraphernalia if I resist the urge to snatch up one of the hundreds of drug company pens available to all drs and med students out there. Its about awareness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its so people will ask me questions, and I can tell these stories…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spattered across the world, there will be people who refuse to drink Nescafe. This is a form of boycott of Nestle. Nescafe was chosen because Nestle being the massive MNC it is, has products far and wide, and it is extraordinarily difficult to boycott all nestle products, but I can assure you there are people who go to these lengths. It was also chosen because of its undeniable association to Nestle, whereas Maggi or Milo (god forbid) has less of an obvious association. So why the hullabaloo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a nutshell, Nestle promotes Lactogen (baby formula) as a superior alternative to breast feeding in developing communiies- In health circles, this is pure evil- there is no superior option to breastfeeding except in specific cases. There are significant reasons that range from health to economic reasons for this. Nestle also distributes these products with NO CLEAR instructions on the formation of the milk- These business strategies of Nestle resulted in inordinate rates of malnutrition, diarrhea and subsequently a rise in mortality rates in these communities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worse thing of all is that this issue has been happening since the early 1970s! Since then, many struggles against this have been made. A guideline was introduced on introduction of milk products in developing countries- but with the companies not having any real incentive to follow them. As part of their business strategy, Nestle also gives free or low cost samples to begin with, which raises the incentive for consumers, with the added thought that this is the healther option for their children. So on one hand, you have nestle almost giving away milk product that is detrimental to infant health, and on the other hand you have major pharma companies denying these same communities a lower price for HIV/AIDs medication. If that is not evil, Im not sure what is. But that’s for another day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nestle is not the only company that does this, other companies like KLIM (did you know, that’s milk spelt backwardsJ) advertised their milk powder to new mothers, without further explaining that it was a milk substitute not a specific formula for babies. I watched on a documentary once, that these multi- national companies are able to do these things, because not one person was responsible for actions – there was no collective (or individual) conscience held responsible for actions. Hence here was a massive strength/power/resource, with no one individual to be held accountable for any atrocities that may occur under the companys name. Hence a form of invincibility is created. This is what these boycotts are trying to do- trying to say – No, you are not invincible, No you WILL be held accountable. But this hasn’t happened. People are not angry enough. Children are dying. When will they be angry enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many more- McDonalds, Starbucks, Conflict diamonds (watch Blood Diamond!)… if you don’t want to join in these Boycotts, struggle with us in other ways, tell people about it, discuss it, think about it- Anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first started thinking about these things, I decided I wouldn’t boycott. Didn’t think there would be enough of an impact for me to sacrifice things I had come to enjoy. Frankly though, every time I order a Nescafe tarik – it simply tastes like shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-4395731450514817826?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/4395731450514817826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=4395731450514817826' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/4395731450514817826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/4395731450514817826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2008/03/campaign-against-nescafe-or-why-i-think.html' title='The Campaign against Nescafe... Or Why I think Nestle is evil.'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-1433400318779038876</id><published>2008-03-05T01:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T01:27:24.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Comfort of Conformity</title><content type='html'>Now for anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m painfully idealistic (some people say naïve, I prefer idealistic). Just imagine what I was like 10 years ago. And damn impressionable, to boot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is when I first watched the movie Dead Poets Society for English literature in Taylors College. So we didn’t just watch the movie, we studied it. And boy, did it affect me- especially the conformity part of it- Captain (Mr Keating) had all the schoolboys marching in the schoolyard and told three of them to all walk in their own individual ways, and eventually they all start marching in the same rhythm. The rest of the boys start clapping in time. When they discover they are marching in rhythm, they exalt in it. He stops them, and he says he has tried to illustrate the point of conformity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He describes “The difficulty in maintaining your own beliefs in the face of others.” And he says to them “Now, those of you -- I see the look in your eyes like, "I would've walked differently." Well, ask yourselves why you were clapping. Now, we all have a great need for acceptance. But you must trust that your beliefs are unique, your own, even though others may think them odd or unpopular”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now lets bring it back to now, 2008, 12th general elections- I see a mobilized, excited society, in particular the youth. I see a change from as early as two years ago. I remember when I first started reading and becoming interested in politics not that long ago, the crowd I would be speaking to, regardless of age, were people who simply did not know or care, or cared but were too cynical about things to even engage in conversation about it. Now, what a change! What a breath of fresh air! How heartening to read the responses to the blogs, to the alternative news websites. How exhilarating to see people standing in the bludgeoning rain sharing umbrellas with their neighbours to hear what the opposition has to say. How exciting for us, Malaysians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am as thrilled as can be imagined that the change in mentality that people previously flippantly and callously brushed off as ‘never gonna happen’ is happening right in front of our eyes. But I worry, because are we suddenly just blindly following what the ‘in’ thing right now is? Since I have come back from Australia, I have noticed a massive change in the air - it is suddenly ‘cool to care’. And that is phenomenal. And very, very rare. But its similar to the anti American bandwagon traveling all over the world, what we have here in Malaysia is an anti-BN bandwagon. Now, don’t get me wrong, I would drive the anti BN bandwagon, or the anti American bandwagon if given the chance. There are so many reasons to be angry at these institutions/empires for the wrong they have done. But I want the people jumping on to jump on because they are angry, and they know why they are angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they don’t, then suddenly it becomes a crowd mentality, where no one person is responsible for anything, and we are just a mass of people, not individuals. Initially full of different voices, saying different things. Different, interesting, colorful things, and then slowly becoming one voice chanting out a slogan. That sounds kind of beautiful doesn’t it. One Malaysia, one voice. What the hell!? How can we be one voice, each one of us is different. We care about different things. I care about leprosy and TB in rural Malaysia, the person next to me cares about roadworks, someone else cares about racism, others care about corruption and inequality. We are not one voice. We are a united people fighting for issues that affect the Malaysian rakyat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only reason I have started thinking about these things is because I am guilty of it myself. For the last two or so years, I have begun reading the work of Farish Noor- from his books, to the Other Malaysia (which is great, make sure you go have a look &lt;a href="http://www.othermalaysia.org/"&gt;www.othermalaysia.org&lt;/a&gt;), to Off the Edge to his Facebook notes. At a time when I was so confused and disappointed with a whole range of things from Islam to Malaysian politics, his writing lifted my spirits and helped me understand. Now, all of a sudden, I feel I have idolised him, and by doing so, I stop thinking about what he says and just blindly believe. That’s ridiculous, I mean the man is intelligent, witty, knowledgeable and lets face it, seriously smoking hot. But if I suddenly decide he is the shit and think that everything he says is gold, I will just be repeating history. Worse still, I will be rejecting the advice of advocates of free thinking like Farish himself. Its weirdly ironic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im not saying I should not admire him and another like-minded activists, I should, and I really, really do. Without them, I truly believe the world would be significantly poorer. I just, for myself, at least, believe that I have the intelligence to constantly think carefully of every idea, every protest, every complaint put forward. To always think about both sides, sit in the middle and look at both the left and right wing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To come back to the quote from Dead Poets Society, I think sometimes it is not so much the difficulty in maintaining your own beliefs that is the problem, but the ease in assent to others beliefs and ideas. The ease of not fighting, not opposing. The comfort of it. It takes a toll on the mind, to constantly question, to constantly oppose and challenge, people you dislike, like, admire. But it is essential because as Malik Imtiaz says in his blog 'It is only in the clash of ideas and opinions that we see the synthesis of true democratic value.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-1433400318779038876?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/1433400318779038876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=1433400318779038876' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/1433400318779038876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/1433400318779038876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2008/03/comfort-of-conformity_05.html' title='The Comfort of Conformity'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-640917558244188165.post-5313491348737609252</id><published>2008-03-05T01:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T22:44:10.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'>About Me....and this blog</title><content type='html'>You know, Ive been wanting to write in my blog for MONTHS now. And I have so many things to say, hence creating a blog in the first place. Finally, I decided, hey its one week before elections. My emotions are riding as high as they are ever going to be in terms of Malaysia. Its now or never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am. How does this work- Ive learnt the beauty of the Blog is that its like a piece of art. I made it, and I can call it good if I damn well please. Now that’s fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am 26, Malaysian, a doctor (extremely junior) have just returned from 9 years in Australia. I struggle with my identity, only because people constantly argue it. When Im in Australia- “what?! you’re Malaysian, but you don’t look Chinese, you look Indian” Which is the oddest thing ive heard, but Ive heard it time and time again. When Im in Malaysia- its more, “Why you think you so action, ah” because I have a god awful aust/uk/odd accent that makes people sound like im putting it on. And then people imply that I am westernized because of it, so go back where I belong lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These things used to bother me, but Ive recently realized I am Malaysian, whether I like it or not, and whether you like it or not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A caesura is a pause in a work of art. Whether it is a poem, song, movie. I feel like am in the midst of a piece of art- that is that I am surrounded by inspiring people like my family, friends, activists like Farish Noor and Arundhati Roy, heroes and legends like Aung San Suu Kyii, Nelson Mandela, Gandhi. Its exciting, thrilling, exhilarating. Its overwhelming. To fully absorb it all, I need to stop and think. This is what this is – this is me, pausing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/640917558244188165-5313491348737609252?l=veenascaesura.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/feeds/5313491348737609252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=640917558244188165&amp;postID=5313491348737609252' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/5313491348737609252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/640917558244188165/posts/default/5313491348737609252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://veenascaesura.blogspot.com/2008/03/about-meand-this-blog.html' title='About Me....and this blog'/><author><name>Veena Pillai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11946556314225159642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
