T'was a chain of art!

An event waited with anticipation that ended with another anticipation for the next one.

Simply said, RANtai was the main reason why I happened to be parking at KLCC for five consecutive days, and of course, forcefully visiting the mall itself repetitively for hours at different times of the day from as early in the morning to the late night.

Considering that I don't work there and my house is obviously not a breeze away, it immediately became one of the dumbest thing I've done this year. It was so frequent, I always ended up guessing the parking rates right at the end of the day - and it was always disastrously overpriced.

I was talking about the KLCC part, of course. For those who came and witnessed the event, they would immediately know how the MIA Arthouse - the red bungalow behind Pelita - would be just a walk away from KLCC. Last year RANtai was held at a place relatively unknown, so basically this year the organisers scored quickly in choosing the right venue.

RANtai makes every ends in the local art scene meet. The effort was vibrant and enthusiasm was visible everywhere. These also came along with simplicity - the venue itself was by right not the fanciest. It either shows humility over materialism, or simply the guys don't have that much of money to stage the stuff at anywhere 'proper' to some eyes. Seriously though, I don't give a damn. The event knocked our hearts out of the planet.

Mainly indie in content, RANtai at its core did a good job in highlighting many shining talents in the local art scene, and we're talking about music, photography, fashion, films and many other form of art. At its peak, crowds hurled to the many fashion booths outside catering many independent clothing lines while the various performers made their scene at the nearby moderate stage. Inside the two-story red bungalow, lively forms of artworks were being displayed much to the awe of the viewers, and the nights are filled with acoustic performances, poem recitals, and movie screenings.

Basically RANtai was not solely a gig or one of those events that posers would flock and escape alive. RANtai was to be shared, of course, but it also has to be appreciated. Troublemakers that came for nothing just left a scar that I believe the organisers themselves would not even dreamed of.

But then again it's free, so yeah, everybody likes something that is free.

My personal favourite would be Supernab's and 84cube's display. Sue Anna Joe's was pretty much an open display of vanity. I liked Safuraa Razak's travel shots, and of course, Udey Ismail's. There is a lot to be highlighted, really, but I lost count the names. And heck, this is not a magazine. However none of the displays seem to fail. Art booths were definitely a success - names like Bangkit, Kurasaraksasa, I Heart KL, Jiwakosongart and other clothing lines are a must-catch the next time they are selling out their products.

Because Topshop T-shirts are so a thing of yesterday. God knows how overrated the T-shirts are becoming - everybody seems to be wearing one. You don't want to get caught up with somebody else wearing the same T's, do you? Unless of course if it's a uniform of some type. But that's about the printed T-shirts lah, other stuffs are still OK lah kot, kan? Wait, I think that sweater is familiar!

Heh, newbies.

Well RANtai was an event worth coming everyday, but next time, I would rather allow some gap in between, if you know what I mean. It's an effort worth the pain, if there is any pain. So before anybody would start a countdown to the next year's, I better start to buckle up and brush up my already wacky art and photo skills. Like who knows, right? Orang dalam pun dah ada, haha. RANtai was a success and missing it would be missing a part of the year. I'm glad I didn't.

For more pictures (yet not so many), go Flickr!

PICTURE View of the crowd from the top floor of the bungalow MORE at Myspace.com/Rantai and Rantai at Blogspot. SEE ALSO Click a Child, an initiative program to help children in need and 10 Tahun Sebelum Merdeka, an excellent, no-nonsense documentary that was shown at RANtai, by Fahmi Reza.

Happy Holidays, folks!

Hey, it is the season to be jolly after all.











and for everything else, check them out at my Flickr.

Pictures from December 18 until 20.

Why don't we give love that one more chance?

Notes of an adolescent observer.

It's the holiday season and I believe you and I would want to feel safe and sound while enjoying ourselves in company of good friends and families along the way. Especially in a country so unique, the whole thing about actually living in it is just exceptionally eccentric.

I believe you and I want our people to progress and the nation to be prosperous, if not for the next fifty years, forever. It is the best country in the world. I have been to places, and no matter how special they claim they are, Malaysia remains unbeatable and this land and the people crown my heart in many ways.

And all this, from an 18-year old spoiled brat's perspective - a typical teenager raised with Malaysian education, mixed secular and religious pedagogy, listens to a mishmash of indie and jazz music, loves art, and likes onde-onde, putu mayam, Paddle-pop as much as he loves sushi and weird unpronounceable gourmet.

So I am a happy guy who likes to hang out and basically being outside most of the time nowadays. And while I'm at it I would appreciate it if I will lose neither of my body parts or hurt anything or anybody, so I drive safe and abide by the rules. I don't want Ayah to get mad at me either, so I always try to spend accordingly. Sounds heavenly and real, eh? I mean, bottom line, everything goes that way. Therefore, no lies.

Lies came into the picture when there are rumors spreading saying that there will be another rally going to be staged in KL. By using 'another', I'm indicating that there were many messages involving this. For those who sent them out of concern, I thank you. However, I am getting sick out of it. Malaysians of all ages, please, we don't need this. We don't have to be paranoid. We don't have to be scared. We're not dumb, you and I are absolutely not dumb. Or would you want to be one?

I accidentally went to downtown KL on December 11. If you don't know of anything as such, now you know there are people crazy enough that goes to KL by accidental causes. It would be just another day at KL, if not for some alterations to the plan. I was slinging my camera along with my initial, decent reason was to browse for a new lens, or speed light down at Bukit Bintang. I parked at Pavilion, and I was with my bodyguard wannabe, Syafiq J. It is important to know that I went out only for a minum-minum session at Seksyen 3's Restoran Gembira. Accidental? I think yes!

After the browsing part, I was done and bored. The weather was blissful and I had my camera (that sometimes can be turned to a light dumbbell, read: heavy) at my shoulders. So I thought, a traditional light stroll wouldn't hurt. The next thing we know is we were in Brickfields, Masjid Jamek, Jalan Masjid India, Central Market, Petaling Street and Puduraya before we were finally back at Bukit Bintang again. Unsurprisingly, my parking cost me RM17, and we had our dinner at KLCC before we headed home.

It is always good to keep in your head that walking is always the best way to see KL. Driving only reflects the ignorant part of it. The thing is, on that very day it was another typical day with normal people doing perfectly orderly things. Pickpockets, pirated DVD dealers, immigrant workers, tourists, crazy drivers, crazier taxi drivers, unpunctual trains, smelly toilets, friendly people, the disabled, faggots - everything - not a strange thing in sight.

I encountered temple-keepers, bunga malai makers, auntie making bak kut teh, cheap clothing salesgirl, tok kiai, tourist booth receptionist who looks like he doesn't want to work there, practically a lot of people. None of them the same. I entered temples and mosques, and at every spot, I was treated the way I wanted - respected and given privacy. So I was.

No hatred at hall. At least not visibly. It is the KL I wanted to know. It's a city so cosmopolitan, New Yorkers would end up eating socks when they see us.

At the other side of the city, a group is marching up to the Parliament to give a memorandum. They expect it to be perfectly smooth as they are confident things will stay calm. But it didn't went smooth, because some people or maybe the authorities are so afraid, they staged roadblocks and intentionally caused havoc, deterring unnecessarily over paranoia and insecurities. And another scar is left out.

Four days later I went to KLCC for the third day of RANtai, and for the Midnight Sale. Things went out perfectly with no hassle. RANtai intriguingly gave out free condoms in conjunction with a particular AIDS campaign. The screening that night was satisfying, with 10 Tahun Sebelum Merdeka being such a standout, and the puzzling Kisah Tiga Lelaki. Midnight Sale was a total bummer, we were back from RANtai to KLCC at 11.30pm only to find the place 3/4 dead.

Haziq and I went back after that, only to find the Federal Highway jammed at 12 am. It was the weirdest thing in the world that time, so we decided to have our supper at PJ's State. The traffic jam, expectedly, has happened to be caused by a tragic accident near the Sunway interchange.

No rallies, none. Incidentally, a dumb message started by maybe some paranoid racist circulated that a rally will be staged by a hot hot heat organisation near Jalan Ampang. For the less-informed, RANtai was at Jalan Ampang. I felt utterlessly disappointed. The stupid message left some people being unnecessarily scared.

Sunday, December 16. After accompanying Yat to send his brother's camera in Cheras, we were to go to KLCC, and eventually the last day of RANtai to meet up with our other course mates. It was still early and the guys were still at KL Sentral, so I thought a nasi lemak down at Kg. Baru would not hurt even a tiniest bit. Yat was all out to treat me with one, so we randomly searched for a stall, and I didn't want Nasi Lemak Antarabangsa at that time.

So we found a stall, and the nasi lemak was OK. The rice was very good, however the sambal was the ones that will have you the slightly dizzy effect after eating. I bought some newspapers afterwards. There were even tourists around, and the locals were behaving normally. It has been awhile since I last been to Kg. Baru, heck, do I even had a last time?

The thing is, it is a lovely idea to have the first class view of the towers at your backyard. Imagine opening your windows to such a panorama, before doing some light gardening and grabbing your motorcycle to lepak at the nearest warung. The lavish apartment owners around the KLCC area would really have to feel sorry for themselves when they know this.

After the whole day was over, literally, I dropped by at PJ at my Atuk's house as Mama said the whole family was there. It was a feast of fruits, say, durians, and Wan's pulut durian was tempting to the core. While I was eating, Acu told us that another rally was supposed to be staged down at Kg. Baru earlier that day, by another yeah yeah yeah organization.

I was equally shocked and disgusted.

I know I would not want to believe that. For those who don't know and maybe are confused, they will group these 'rallies' altogether as a whole bad thing. While some of it are proven bad, some are organized to be staged out peacefully and they did, but later were misinterpreted and given a bad image haphazardly, totally fooling those who don't know or would not want to know the truth.

In short, we're perfectly fooled and confused.

Which sends some people to be paranoid. It roots back to a common sense, anyhow. If we really trust each other in the first place, why afraid? If everything is in a perfect order, why be insecure? If we believe in a peaceful Malaysia, why be threatened?

Because if we are already a strong society as whole, we will not be shaken. Yet stupid rumors are spread. Racism should not exist here in a land where her people is diverse. Racists should be tormented by eating tempoyak, cincaluk, budu and sago worms simultaneously with belacan being stuffed up in his or her nostrils. The video of that should be posted on YouTube.

I mean, how could things like this appear in a mainstream national newspaper?

Kita boleh menyaman kerajaan Belanda, Inggeris, Jepun serta keluarga Brooke kerana negara dan keluarga ini juga pernah menjajah keseluruhan atau sebahagian daripada bumi Malaysia.

Negara berkenaan bukan saja perlu disaman kerana menjajah negara secara kolektif selama 446 tahun, tetapi juga kerana merompak hasil mahsyul negara, membawa agama dan budaya asing, melanggar hak asasi manusia peribumi, merencatkan proses pembangunan negara dan dosa yang paling besar mengubah karekter bumi Malaysia daripada bersifat satu kaum kepada pelbagai kaum.

Basically this is what you get when you sleep in history classes. Dumb ass.

What the hell is wrong? Quite simply, no religion is native to this land, not even Islam. There is no such thing as 'agama tidak asing', as the writer is suggesting. Hinduism and Buddhism came first long before Alfonso de Albuquerque ran amok at the great harbour of Malacca, and before the traders came, we are perfectly pagan. Islam came into our forefather's hearts from many sources, and then Christianity came together with the colonialists.

Changing a land's demographical patterns is not a big sin. Fighting God's fate of humanity is. First of all it's not the colonialists who have made our land home to many happy people who simply have different ways of seeing life. People from all over the Malay Realms - the Nusantara - the big archipelago crossing from Sumatra to Papua have long migrated to the land that was once known as Tanah Besar. They were not all Malay - these people are made up of many more diverse ethnicities - Javanese, Achenese, Bugis, Banjar, Minang and others.

People from Southern India have long visited Southeast Asia, being frequent visitors at the land's many ports. Quite notably, the Chin Empire of modern day China loved Malacca, and has sent several fleets, one of them being led by the legendary Cheng Ho to meet the Sultan. And what made you so sure that the Thais, Arabs and Persians are being isolated from all these social fiesta going on that time?

Malacca exclusively and the Peninsula in general, back then should be something of a cosmopolitan like KL these days. Surely the world's greatest port at that era is not expected to be boring. So much curiosity should have been stirred, and everybody should have like to know each other. Our people must have been very lovely at that time, or if some people beg to differ, lovelier.

Fast forward, after hundreds of years (or 446 years later, thanks for making the calculations dude), something is wrong. In fact, forget hundreds of years. Something should have gone correct sometime during the last fifty years, yet we're missing it.

It is best to think that racism is always a problem, and ignorance will only lead to hatred.

Our society needs more than propaganda and deceptions. We need to fight child rapists, corrupted politicians, criminals and people who think they are otai enough to become criminals. We need better roads and better public transportation, all over from Tawau to Arau. And if you don't know where the hell are these places, add better educational system to the list.

Well.

It is at this time of the year when the most rationale guy I have ever known, Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) has made a great speech that mankind should hold on to forever. As half of humanity is gathering before God today at the fields of Arafah, let us not forget what the great man told us thousands of years ago,

All mankind is from Adam and Eve, an Arab has no superiority over a non-Arab nor a non-Arab has any superiority over an Arab; also a white has no superiority over black nor a black has any superiority over white except by piety and good action. Learn that every Muslim is a brother to every Muslim and that the Muslims constitute one brotherhood. Nothing shall be legitimate to a Muslim which belongs to a fellow Muslim unless it was given freely and willingly. Do not, therefore, do injustice to yourselves.

After 1375 years, he still got that right. God created us different for us to understand and learn from each other, not to tear us apart. Other nations have got over that and moved on.

Reality; puppet media and selfish SMSes are spread, while we got some irrational politicians cursing at the table democracy. At the same time, another person is waiting for a late train again at the station, or maybe he's just too early.

For everybody else who loves this country, Happy Holidays. Maybe this Eid and Christmas will put off the pressure out of our hearts and make some changes.

Spread the joy. Give love that one more chance, will ya?

Listening to David Bowie & Queen - Under Pressure
PICTURES from top 1. At Kg. Baru, sophistication stands in stark contrast with old-fashioned lives. 2. Shoppers browse through footwear at Jalan Melayu near Jalan Masjid India area 3. Despite warnings, people still doze off in the vicinity of Masjid Jamek 4. It's a rainy day outside while the LRT passes by the graffiti made at the walls of the Klang river, National Mosque visible at the back. 5. Traffic light at Bukit Bintang, fences and the Sultan Abdul Samad Building clocktower, signage at KL Sentral Monorail Station. All pictures copyright Syukrishairi 2007.

Mid-december ramblings

Actually there are a lot to be shared, from RANtai to some itchy issues. It's been a week or so since an actual update, I'm quite sure none of you guys would think all I did was lay back at home and watch TV. Hell, I don't even know where they put the remote anymore.

Basically only two weeks of relative freedom are left for me to savour. At times I regret the exhaustive hang outs, especially the ones that would drive me mentally sick. Think traffic jams and damaged brain cells. It's within the city borders for me right now, I really want to keep in touch with simple things I always do before I actually want to go outside again. Continuous hang outs are bearable, but at the same place all over again?

Shah Alam Mall can pull that kind of trigger off. KLCC, however, doesn't. Unless if you live at Kg. Baru or anywhere nearer.

I barely remember what I was doing for the past couple of days.

So I am currently resuming the simpler lepak rites; borak outside the rumah gate chomping on the nearest makcik's goreng pisang, lunch at Mall, having lepak sessions and eventually coming back before 12, and stuffs like that. Maybe after this the D.E breakfasts that actually involves walking there, those photo sessions at the padang or tasik, and the usual masjid-and-Syed sessions.

It would be as decent as breaking a piggy bank to buy your first copy of FHM.

Like what the hell, why encounter those traffic jams that those people at Klang, PJ and KL are having while the only thing we whine about is how some people are so slow at roundabouts?

Some people criticise Shah Alam as being a city only for people to live in, while for work and stuffs, they go elsewhere. Well thank you for such glorious remark, that's a good thing. Because surprisingly people live a life, not work for one.

Got to think things the simpler way. Got to.

PICTURE RANtai Exhibition by Bangkit

Orang dan lain-lain

Suara-suara dengki
boleh buat hati rasa sunyi,
Kisah tak kisah,
sikit, banyak
pun boleh rasa benci.

Peliklah sikit,
kalau orang suka terang
tak suka gelap
tapi suka buruk orang
tak suka yang baik bergilap

Tapi betul.

Sebab dah takdir
menjadi seorang Orang, maka, biasa.
Tak perlu pelik.
Tapi mungkin dalam pelik
ada terbuat soal,

Tapi jangan harap tiap-tiap soal
ada jawab yang ada, sedia.

Lagi-lagi dalam gila
dan otak-otak lupa.

Remeh mungkin berat,
Tak payah mungkin payah,
Jumpa tak semestinya takkan hilang lagi.

Kalau pernah hilang.

Macam hati-hati orang sekarang,
Hilang, mungkin. Ada yang terjumpa,
ada yang sorok. Ada yang mencari lagi.

Hati kau lah. Aku pun.
Semua sekali.

Mungkin ada sinis lagi dalam pesimis.
Penipu bukannya tak boleh ditipu.
Dan Orang yang dengki bukan semuanya betul.
Peloyar buruk pun bukan selalu bagus.

Sebab benda yang terlampau selalu
adalah repetisi yang mungkin ada orang tak suka.
Benda yang terlampau semua
adalah cubaan stereotaip
yang mungkin bodoh lagi kolot.

Bosan betul logik,
Soalan, sebab dan tidak ada yang menyusul.
Mati.

Kalau mati, boleh ke hidup?
dan Orang pun mengikut takdir,
dengki, tamak, rugi,
nafas hilang jadi mati.

Orang. Subjektif. Gila.
tapi mungkin boleh jadi terlalu mudah.
Sebab semuanya ada satu konklusi.
Mati.

Scream out!

The year is coming to an end and with coming events and celebrations spell excitement, stress has no ticket to turn our brains off. Nevertheless, events that went by left warm traces to be kept intact, and here are some.

Celebration of Arts

Hujan and Komplot brightened the night's open performance which was part of a charity art event. Organised by Unithree Productions, sales from the event consisting of food, independent clothing products and art stuffs are to be contributed to the Agathians Shelter. Charity it was and the performances rocked everybody's heart out! Little publicity was made, so a relatively few but lively crowd turned up at Plaza Mont Kiara. Hujan never fails, and during the event Noh publicly detests the negative remarks made at Hujan fans and themselves, over the internet in the middle of the band's performance. '***** diorang,' he went, before continuing with 'Empayar', 'Ludah Amerika' and 'Pagi Yang Gelap'. Komplot was featured at Fly-fm's Campur Chart at the Laundry Bar in August, but they are still new to my ears. Check out 'Nora Zain' and 'Disko tanpa Risiko', and for those who are eager to catch their next act, rush to the third day of We've Lost Our Beauty Fest at MCPA Hall, KL on December 25.

Live & Loud KL '07: Acoustic

Don't hate me, but this guy is cool. He's listed in my 'guilty pleasure' list and James Morrison performs greater live, but do not bring your girlfriend along. Girls were nuts at an event that is so 'neat', I nearly fell asleep. Dayang Nurfaizah made an opening, she was good but of course people wanted something else (duh, who else) that night. The audience seemed to recognise only 'Heaven Knows' by Australia's Rick Price, who may have suited perfectly of the event's theme of being acoustic. Funny how he is relatively unpublicised, I mean, Whitney Houston and Elliot Yamin has their portions of fans here of course, but hey, I thought many people listened to James Morrison too. Audience sang along to the familiar 'Wonderful World', 'You Give Me Something' and other singles from 'Undiscovered'. He gave an encore by singing 'The Last Goodbye'. He gave us more than an encore, though. The audience became 'one of the first in the world' to listen to his brand new single from his next album. Mistaken for the sound guy and his stuttered 'terima kasih', James Morrison left his Malaysian (read: girl) fans more than satisfied.

Fly. fm's Second Flyniversarry

Mawar Berduri from Ahli Fiqir got pissed off a bit when the crowd down at Central Park Avenue demanded more Hujan than their plagiarised hip-hop act. Featured at the euphoric Fly.fm's Second Flyniversarry were the most anticipated Hujan and Meet Uncle Hussain, alongside the enthusiastic Dina together with Deja Voodoo Spells and they've made our usual avenue by One Utama plunged into a hysterical sweaty fiesta. It was my first time seeing Meet Uncle Hussain live and they've perfected by their appearance with 'La La Kerjalah', 'Pari Pari Bawah Angin' and of course, 'Lagu Untukmu'. And what more the crowd wanted than Hujan? Before their show ended with grand curtain closing (not really literally, there would be club hits afterwards much to the shufflers' delight), Noh and gang sent the crowd mad with their hit singles (need no mentioning, right?). And yeah, kudos to my favourite radio station that accompanied me during the driving part of the day (read: traffic-jammed). I love you, Jules!

P. Ramlee - The Musical

Siti Nurhaliza acting! Something of a must-see, so I did last October. Istana Budaya hosted of what could be second-best to last year's Puteri Gunung Ledang: The Musical (sorry, Zahim Albakri), but still a feast to the eyes, and might be the best one of its kind this year. P. Ramlee - The Musical... The Live, the Loves and the Inspiration heated up the chilly Panggung Sari with lively acts from Sean Ghazi, Liza Hanim, Melissa Saila, Siti Nurhaliza and newcomer Atilia. It was important to not to focus on Siti Nurhaliza as Azizah alone. Her acting part, however, needs some brushing up, but her singing really don't need any damn brushes. She played as who could be P. Ramlee's first ever love, before he went on to settle things up with his three wives. Liza Hanim became my personal favourite, and maybe everyone's when she gave the audience first class performance as the legendary Saloma. Hell, she was Saloma!

But of course, the show was all about P. Ramlee, and after the show I wondered about how Malaysia once had a very great, all-out, versatile entertainer. And by versatile, P. Ramlee deserved that adjective without any further doubt. Nevertheless I'm expecting something fresher from Enfiniti Productions, something that goes beyond any known persona (i.e, Puteri Gunung Ledang and P. Ramlee). I believe the guys there are well-prepared to serve us more with stories of life, and I'm ready to book a seat for their next show if there will be one.

My Chemical Romance makes a great band, they bring pop to rock altogether, but things are just OK with them on the mainstream side. Well, it seems to me not only our friends down in Stadium Merdeka are snapping pictures of Gerard Way and his fellas.

Either way, these guys have two things in common: they're cool!

The days of hip-hop and bling-bling are suffering a slow death, and indie rock certainly is raising up to the top of the ladder in the local music scene. Alternative really is good at times (no puns intended). Support Malaysian art scene, folks, and buy original (accordingly, of course. If can't, we all know what to do).

Events in line: 1. Have a Happy M.U.N.D.A.E Acoustic gig down at No Black Tie on December 10, 9.30pm. Reza Salleh is lined up alongside Warren Chan, Sara Lo, Paulo Delfino, Broken Scar and Najwa. 2. RANtai Art Fest Anticipation is rising on what could be the most-awaited event of the month. Art enthusiasts, buckle up! December 12 till 16, Art House Gallery, Jalan Ampang. I'm thinking of catching every single day of it. 3. Figure Eight Music and fashion will unify (as if they haven't) greatly under one roof at Central Market Annexe. Be there on December 16 to catch Meet Uncle Hussain, One Buck Short and Couple among others.

Pictures from top 1. Lead singer of Komplot, Zac, rocking the scene 2. James Morrison during his encore performance 3. Hujan lebat! 4. Gerard Way and Ayah on the way to KL, from Auckland, New Zealand. My Chemical Romance has just finished their part of the tour at Auckland Arena on December 6, is currently in KL and will be heading for their next performance down in Singapore. More events JunkOnline, KakiSeni.com

I hope 2008 will see The Fray coming to town. Or should we wait more?

All pictures are subject to copyright of Syukrishairi, 2007.

'Budak Part 1, ya?'

I was swayed by the thought of not failing my first (and last) Economics paper. Swayed? I felt like jumping all over the place! But I didn't, as I would've looked perfectly retarded. Yes, results are out! I am content with mine - after considering and measuring the interrogative effort that I have been putting through the last semester - and I'm equally glad that my friends are doing absolutely well. A warm congratulations to go with that, and what a semester it has been!

It may initially sounds decent, but being a Part 1 student in UiTM Perak is, seriously, challenging. Yes, Part 1 student of Bachelor Science in Architecture programme - hell, what would be the challenge in that? Simply, it can be put in this way - it's painful, yet underneath the scars it's enjoyable. Ironies aside, the situation can be really seen that way. When seen from a different perspective, one could wonder what hardship would a Part 1 student suffer? Maybe the only answer to this is to be one of the Part 1 students.

So I was one. For up to three months, I was suffering an invisible hardship that brings more headache than being a PLKN trainee. You thought it would be simple and easy. Don't fret yet, it will be. Not until the seniors barge in. This is where the glorious word comes into the glossary. Sensitive, yet bears different meanings to many - induction.

No architecture student in both UiTM - Shah Alam and Perak - would escape this. While for other courses and programmes 'induction' would totally mean a session that may lasts for a couple of hours involving light teasing from the seniors to their newly-endorsed freshmen, for many budak archi, the word simply means a lot. There is mental torture, then comes friendship. Steep words would slice feelings before teamwork and mutual respect make bonds.

It is the way things roll, and whether it is detested or supported, it still runs within the walls of the studios.

Induction fundamentals and fanatics backed the idea of nurturing the culture on a basis of the very strong friendship - to a certain extent, brotherhood - it would develop later in between the architecture members itself. Some of you are maybe thinking of fraternity, well, the thing goes along the idea too.

Lecturers enviably support induction, albeit transparently, though basically only the main objective of the whole idea - the effects - is attested. Throughout the recent years, induction has been weakened by reports made to the higher authorities by the extreme 'preys' - mostly those with connection and position - mainly succumbed to the negative part of induction.

The department was lambasted hard many times, resulting in where induction was leveled down to a position that is nearly close to covered. Silenced down, 'informal induction' that would be held within dormitories was limited only to the male students, while the female ones should not be touched within their rooms under any circumstances. At the same time, 'formal induction', the one that the whole part would face with the whole batch of any respective seniors, are still running on a lower key. Physical assaults were strictly off limits, though verbal assaults may occur.

At this point you may have been suggested of how the earlier inductions were conducted. According to some stories, it was nearly barbaric. Some went on to say it was unbearably insane. People would dismiss themselves for that. But that was the Dark Ages.

In the beginning, we take the whole thing as a distressing phenomenon. Though some may have expected it, induction will left you with puzzles that may wind traps along the way. Hell yes, it's that complicated. Induction could come in series, that may be held at any time within the period of one semester. The prominent goal is to have the whole new batch of Part 1 to be 'recognized' by all other Parts residing in the department. The imminent goal is to instill friendship - we're talking the strong ones.

Some would argue at this point, is there no other way? Hell, I've argued a lot. Having so much tolerance, I would totally banish induction in the near future. But my future juniors would sigh if they heard about my friends' already planned schemes for their part of the induction. 'Mana boleh dia orang tak kena kalau kita dah kena? Mana adil macam tu?' And so things go that way. One would wonder when will this thing stop.

On the lighter side. I have another 80 course mates, with male and female divided equally. I happen to be knowing all of them - especially the guys. Why? Wait. There is something different in anybody.

Azri, or Bulala, a much conservative Kelantanese or what we could call another 'alim' boy would know much about Ijat, a 20-year old indie dude who hailed from Subang Jaya. Our room is a mixed case too, with Syith, a much sophisticated guy, a former PJ-ite schooling in BB who currently lives in BJ, shares the same bed with Ijai, a quite distorted guy who calls Seksyen 7 home but has been in boarding school eversince Form One. He said he would looked more of somebody from Kelantan than a KL-ite. But Moshi and Pusek would prove that wrong.

I would go crazy over Comet's laughter, burst off over Afiat, your favourite Jawa guy who happens to listen to metal songs a lot but cracks tender jokes that sends you out of your sane minds. Rahman would annoy you a lot with his constant uninvited reminders about assignments and warts, but his skimpy voice seemed to keep me alerted. Kamil would happen to be a humble guy whose lecturers loved the most due to his position as 'an architect's son', living in Bukit Damansara who could get along well with the naive, but kind Amir from Sekinchan. (that's near Sabak Bernam).

That's just a little bit of everything! While Adi and Mat Jek would make the weirdest pair (each speaks a different dialect, but seems to understand each other in every sense), Pre't would knock you out with his funny face expressions. Kepang would again fall asleep at his favourite pillow, Uncle's tummy. And you don't want to know about Uncle.

We have unique characters stored under one roof. Everybody is willing to except everybody. We know each other, thus there are respect for everyone. Everybody is getting their piece of the cake. Damn it, we love each other!

In the end people are not afraid to express themselves as what they truly are, what they are supposed to be. And it reads architecture in a no nonsense way. Induction, per se, contributed a lot towards this. We know each other through the questions the seniors asked to anyone of us, and the growing curiosity towards each other that followed us out of the smoky rooms. Slowly, we're understanding each other in a wacky way but effective. It is stupid to say this, but induction is one of those beneficial things that you always want to avoid in your life.

While for other courses and programmes 'induction' would totally mean a session that may lasts for a couple of hours involving light teasing from the seniors to their newly-endorsed freshmen, for many budak archi, the word simply means a lot.

But hey, even though I've known the effects, I am still not fond of the idea of to be called up to a senior's room in the middle of the night, with an assignment due to be passed up tomorrow, making me all anxious and messed up.

Either way, I'm glad that I have made friends with these fabulous people. We share the same interests and we are happy to let each other improve. The competition is highly sharp. Everybody is struggling to make ends meet, to make themselves stand out of the talented crowd. And we're talking what, Part 1? There is still a long way to be paved, babe! Are we even beginning?

Induction translates bitterness in many ways. It even put me to a position that is breakable during the last few months. In a way, I was uncertain of how things are going around me at that time. Assignments to be completed, classes to attend, works to be finished, then seniors?! Lecturers advised us to tell which one is to be prioritized. And we did. Albeit so, induction is never something that a Part 1 could escape without the often painful consequences. Trying to run away is a crime, and criticizing it would be highly heretical.

I am realising that the mainstream budak archi would never tarnish induction, at least not entirely. There are good reasons to go with the continuing flow of induction, and they are quite strong. The decelerating act of induction, especially in between girls, merely have shown effects such as altercation and disunity, which even leads to a cold situation in between batches.

Though nobody could be sure whether the situations are the direct effects of induction slowdown, thoughts of having induction to be vanished altogether from the scene would be deemed incorrect. It should be carried on wisely, and with control as emotions are often stirred during induction sessions. Every Part 1 had their piece of it, and induction experiences are often confined into privacy. It is very important to see induction not as an problem, but just another piece of the department that a Part 1 must face.

We do hope that the dreaded moments are supposed to be over. It's the holidays, and I'm more than happy to continue spending it with light thoughts, question of results are now able to be set aside. My Part 1 was a though one, but in the end it was sweet with the jovial people who share the same trust I have in my old friends.

Friends grow again in number. Nevertheless, old ones are always cherished. Then again,with the year going to lower its curtains, we can begin to expect something excitingly different and more challenges to go with the second semester.

How well will another budak archi do in 2008?

Seri Iskandar has a lot to offer, for a desert town. Do hop by if you're on the way to Lumut from Ipoh and vice-versa, you would find interesting things such as the Cendol Pulut at the mamak stall at Taman Maju. Wait, that's the only thing interesting. I'm not being sarcastic though. REMINDER It is wise to always take note that induction is something case-sensitive and not to be fondly discussed, at least publicly. No recordings should ever be done of any. PICTURES, 1. Yat and I. 2. Budak archi, arranging pictures to be displayed for the final review. 3. Ijat

Sinan - Where art thou?

Le Corbusier and Frank Lloyd Wright aside, this guy from the age of empires had everything in his head. The firmans of the sultans are maybe long gone, but Mimar Sinan's touches simply were left untouched, standing still relevantly to what we call the modern days. Though only 196 out of his 476 buildings remain, his known legacy is simply can't be translated into numbers. Dubbed as Islam's greatest architect, Sinan's name was even honored for a crater in Mercury. Today, now - will there ever be the next Sinan?

I was left all alone in Istanbul during the last trip for one extra night. AB's family flew with Emirates, whose flight is a day earlier from mine. I remembered clearly how straight-forwardly uncomfortable the feeling was. Straightaway, I knew how exactly Ayah always feels when he is away alone in the overseas. My hotel isn't exactly located at the hip side of Istanbul, so basically I was (and currently am) surrounded with old bazaars, old mosques, old tombs, and a very old university. Altogether, I felt old.

The upscale and high-end areas of Taksim, Nişantaşı and Beşiktaş are quite far-away. I am not so fond of the idea of traveling perfectly alone across the Golden Horn to the Beyoglu side at that time. So I thought that I might as well stay in Eminönü - the peninsula area, area that spells Old Istanbul - and do some sight-seeing. It was as decent as a dry-cleaned underwear.

First voyage to Süleymaniye

There is actually a mosque bigger than the Blue Mosque and more important than Hagia Sophia. The whole mosque complex or kulliye, is by far the most complete. The hamam is still functional and the shops outside, arasta, the rents from which supports the mosque are still operational. Back in the heydays, a soup kitchen for the poor - imaret, and a medrese or school would function. The Süleymaniye Mosque, just like any other mosques in the empire thus catered to the central idea of a mosque - the center of the community.

It is Sinan's biggest feat, though he favoured for himself the Selimiye Mosque in Edirne. The mosque was commissioned by the greatest of Ottoman sultans, Suleiman the Magnificent, whose 46 year-rule saw the Ottoman empire grew vastly rapid, and he himself was very powerful and rich. He was Sinan's most prominent patron, and it is largely under his rule that Sinan was able to practice his architectural ideas. Parallel to his outstanding rule the Sultan ordered a grand mosque to be built in one of Istanbul's seven hills.

Simply, he is inspirational. He was born Christian, absorbed into an Ottoman program called devşirme to be recruited into the Janissary corps. He converted to Islam, of course, been into many campaigns and lead many battles, specifically handling military engineering. He learnt mathematics and carpentry in the beginning, but soon assisted many leading architects, where he learnt to be a top architect himself.

Look, I cut the story short. God knows how I don't want my blog to be another Sejarah textbook. Sinan is placed at the footnote side of our textbooks anyhow, kindly by our textbook writers-cum-historians. Some would think of Cikgu Hakim by now. But simply that was how Sinan thrived. The true thing surely is not a fairy tale. Go Google.

I walked alone into the mosque complex on a funnily creepy and windy summer afternoon. I walked pass tombs guarded by grim walls with the Ottoman tombstones tall and huge. The cemetery was well looked-after, lovely yet spooky, with tombs shaded by huge trees. At the middle of the cemetery rose an established form of tomb belonging to the great Sultan. His wife, Roxelana, lies in another structured tomb besides his. Both were already closed.

I kindly gave a salam to an elderly man going out of the cemetery area with his walking stick at one hand, tasbih another. I pointed towards the tombs, and uttered 'Sinan?', awkwardly trying to be clear. My Turkish was limited. (and hey, neither does he knows any Malay).

The old man gestured.
'No,' he seemed interrupted,
'....Süleyman Kanuni..! ...Sinan....yok, yok'
Without actually looking at my face, he waved at the other side of the mosque. I got my direction.

Mimar Sinan is actually buried outside the mosque's walled garden. I didn't aware of that, so my first attempt to visit his tomb perfectly failed. I didn't managed to find his tomb. After having my Asar prayer at a mosque that seemed to be unremarkable gloomy and deserted compared to its other counterparts, I took a light stroll at its faint gardens. The sky was unpleasantly cloudy, and wind was blowing strangely strong. Clouds were over the Golden Horn, the pleasant view promised from the mosque's location was not pleasant at all.

Frustratingly, I went back to the hotel with some McDonald's. After watching DVDs AB had left for me, I fell asleep. I flew back to Kuala Lumpur the next day, having no idea that my next time would be so soon.

In July, I started my life as an architecture student. My life as one is a completely a different story, but Sinan, Istanbul and Ottoman architecture simply had their touch in my early assignments. My final project was of the Blue Mosque, my personal favourite, before it was stolen. I was as if struck by an overused electric socket initially, but as lecturers had given me marks, I got over it. Well, almost.

Second attempt: with success

Night falls and the Maghrib azan echoed through our ears. Massive restoration works are being conducted for the mosque which costs around 7 million YTL. The works stopped to allow worshippers to go in. There was only one saf, AB and I managed to catch the undesirably fast imam at the third rakaat. After the prayers, people dispersed, and the mosque was deserted with some tourists flocking in. There was a faint air, and the sight was dull.

Sinan, for all his life, did what he think was the best to challenge the miraculous achievement of Hagia Sophia's dome. Süleymaniye's Mosque's dome, though not the largest was at one time the highest of all Ottoman mosques. The mosque simply translates many of his engineering and at the same time architectural accomplishments, ironically, it is left to decline and its popularity simply is disappearing.

Efforts by the authorities that commenced on October 10 this year are seen as a light at the end of a toll-free tunnel, so I really hope that the place will be all restored to its glory the next time I come again.

We circled the mosque's garden walls, entering a nearly empty street, walked pass a building that once housed the public kitchen which today is turned to a restaurant. Making a turn into a junction, I took a glance on what could be another public fountain, before I started to take an extra notice. It was Sinan's tomb.

Silently, I was happy. On the other hand, AB was cursing silently, that's what I know. The area around the mosque, while it is supposed to be lively, is very quite and deserted. The lamps around the tomb was out. It was dark and it was potentially dangerous.

Sinan is humbly buried near what he could say as his another favourite masterpiece. It was upon his request. Today it is tacked at a junction. His carved name appears behind the darkness. His tombstone was shrouded in the dark. He might not even guessed that his final resting place would turned out to be dwelling in that way, but for a great man who may had chosen humility instead of excessive reverence, he certainly had paved his own way to the next life undisturbed by others.

Conclusion, but not the end

His death marked the decline of Classical Ottoman designs. And I think I've read too much Dan Brown. Anyway, I.M. Pei, Zaha Hadid and Mies van der Rohe among others are of course great, many of my course sidekicks look up much to these contemporary architects. While not imposing myself as exclusively backward, lining up Sinan with my other high-profile favourite architects- Minimalists, Neo-Conservatives, Modernists - could strike a point of unaligned originality.

Sinan thought me to be creative and at the same time, being sensitive to the environment at the present and in the future. Not adhering to this is the problem of our very Malaysian architecture, so basically it's back to my roots. It's as simple as to not build an igloo in the middle of the desert or anything of that sort. But we've turned our asses on it and ignorantly build inefficient buildings that is disastrous for our climate.

Nobody will be sure who is going to be the next Sinan. But to learn from what he has done and everything he has contributed is always a thing possible. He has done much for his part, and I thank him much for the inspiration he kicked me in the groins. It's cool to actually relate myself to his creations. While I'm waiting for Süleymaniye to be radiant again, it's just time to learn more.

Al-Fatihah, to Ḳoca Mi‘mār Sinān Āġā.

Sources are retained from Wikipedia and Lonely Planet: Istanbul, acquainted with other personal readings.

Pictures, from top

1. Interior of Süleymaniye Mosque
2. Süleymaniye Mosque, from the shores of the Golden Horn
3. Inside and outside, the mosque is undergoing a new look
3. Sinan's tomb with Süleymaniye Mosque looms at the back

Ah, that city - Again!

Repetition, sometimes, can suggest a whole lot of a good idea. Déjà vu, while at many times annoying and eerie, could stroke familiarity to a certain extent. Doing something twice, when applied to some traits could illustrate something negative, though re-doing a particular chore might produce something better.

No, I'm not talking about any assignment over here - it's just the expression of being at a place so lovely for the second mind lulls me to calmness up to bits. The mists of the Bosphorus swiftly tamed the busyness of the ships docking at the city's eternally busy harbour whilst the Asar call to prayer breaks the noise of the hectic bazaars. The chilly winter stops none of its proud people to go out. The city is as good as it is during the summer months.

It took me the whole flight to actually believe that I am going to be here again - the place where the heaven and earth meet, where powers saw and conquered, where East literally meets West - in Istanbul.

Dramatic as it sounds, Istanbul offers its visitors numerous good reasons of why to return or to a radical point, stay. Of course I'm not getting anywhere close to that point, though AB's parents are showing signs that they may do so in the near future. Auntie Pie and Uncle Rosli are of course more than hospitable, and their well-acquainted knowledge with the city's zig-zags do help me a lot in both trips. AB, of course, has mastered the city he has visited every year without fail since 1996, though I might want to rely on his brother (whom I've got to know long before I knew AB), Izzat, if I want to get good photos of myself.

I enjoy their good company, it simply adds the colour. The guys will fart around, quite literally while Auntie Pie is busy plundering for bargains at the shops. Wealthy, yet humble, AB's parents treat me well. They like to make things easier by including me as one of their sons, adding to the original four, when asked by the friendly locals. Each time that happens, I just can't find any reason to argue. However AB and I, sometimes Izzat, would break from the main joint to do more of the city exploring. After all for me it's only my second visit. On the other hand, for them, well what the hell, it is becoming uncountable!

I got myself a copy of Turkish Rolling Stone and Istanbul's TimeOut at the much upscale shopping area of Levent, before AB and I split up with his family at Taksim to head where I really want to head in the first place, the Ortaköy Camii.

Yeah that doesn't suggest much about the building. So here's the stitch.

Basically its perfectly beautiful, and it served as the imperial mosque of Sultan Abdülmecid. We took the bus to what could be a superbly charming place, passing by the detailed five million Ottoman gold pounds Dolmabahçe Palace - the seat of the Sultans after Topkapı - before disembarking at Ortaköy.

Alleyways lead you curiously to a public square full of people, reminding me of the similar case of Fontana de Trevi and the Pantheon back in Rome. The mosque stood at its shoreline position, reflected by the waters of the dividing strait while the mammoth Bosphorus Bridge - one of the two bridges that connects the European side of Istanbul with the Asian - looms dramatically in contrast beyond it. Flocks of pigeon flew and conquer the square alongside arranged cafes and eateries thronged with people around it. I passed through the many stalls selling various items, jeweleries and accessories being the most distinctive to the mosque's gate.

And so it was an architectural orgasm. I assume it was an experimental attempt by the architects - Armenian father and son Garabet Amira Balyan and Nigoğayos Balyan - who designed it in a Neo-Baroque style, departing exclusively from the Classical Ottoman designs though retaining the very basic prototypes. Whatever they was thinking, they definitely scored. Inside and outside the mosque is evolutionarily lovely.

It was the location that perfects the mosque's small yet cunning physique. Around the mosque ships and boats docked, locals fishing and hanging out, smells of good food and the ocean breeze spruced up the air. The desirable chaos outside contrasts with the mosque's interior silence, with occasional hums of zikr and at times, the boatmen shouting disrupted the stagnant air of piety. Beyond the fine grilled windows the minarets of the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia adorned the shining sea waters, the radiance dotted by ships large and small with seagulls flying at the sky. The much open windows of the mosque gave illuminated the interior naturally, highlighting the colourful dome and the glitzy crystal chandeliers.

Ortaköy was fast becoming the top one on my A-list must-visit site in Istanbul. It's kind of off the beaten track, it is as indie as it is not mainstream, and it is captivating. We left the place to the much more crowded Istiklal Caddesi, strolled down the packed shopping avenue with kebabs in our hands before having Starbucks at the end of the street thereafter.

It was getting dark as we strolled down the sharp slopes of Galata down to the shores of the Golden Horn. Faint lights of the city illuminated the buildings and the people, giving much of the psychological heat to the already dropping temperature of a winter night. Cars swerved, ships sailed, and our tram arrived, taking us swiftly to Beyazıt where I finally had my all-time favourite firin sütlaç, the Turkish rice pudding that puts your taste buds down to their knees - if they have knees, that is, before getting back to the hotel.

The city has been a visual feast even for two days of my stay here. It is worth it to come twice in what could be Napoleon Bonaparte's 'capital of the world'. The Romans liked it, the Ottoman perfected it and today the Turks cherish it. It is very European, yet has some Asia in heart. It is where people would really appreciate their diverse cultures and unique differences, prejudices and discrimination aside. Fundamentally religious or upright secular, Istanbullus are friendly and pleasant in every sense.

So far, so good. Twice of being impressive. Let's see what we have tomorrow.

I have yet to find toilets in any Malaysian Starbucks outlet. It is sinful however to have such American product when you're here in this part of the world. When in Turkey, specifically Istanbul, always go for Turkish çay or kahve. For the more extreme, try ayran. My visit is until December 6.

Tossing little things to look big.

Jottings, just jottings.

Turning many parts of my MySpace into private right now, temporarily. MySpace can be quite stressful, with so much peer pressure and social circles, it sickens me how some people are sickly showing that they are fitting in as if others are not. So much, it's bullshit.

On the other side quite related, I feel horrible just to think that most of my photos nowadays are of bad quality and are well-fit to be ashamed of. The lack of new pictures posted here at the blog explains quite much of the feeling. I need fresh ideas instead of duplicating the old ones, if you know what I mean. The days of 'point-and-shoot' are supposedly to be over to make way for the photos that are captured after much thinking and well-cropped ideas.

I was given my first (and maybe only) DSLR a year ago, sometime around June. It is a Nikon D50. DSLRs were an alien thing among my friends at that time and the coolest thing about having a camera at that time is by having a slim one with the highest megapixels around. 'Big cameras' are some kind of an old thing, and it doesn't escape from the image that these 'big cameras' still use film for storage. Things surely have changed today.

I asked for a DSLR upon the reason of 'fulfilling a task'. And I did, so the first bunch of pictures that were captured using the brand new D50 was for my class school-leavers' page. The photos were cool enough. The camera didn't stop clicking ever since then.

In a period of only one year, nearly everybody has, and those who don't, wants one. Be it Nikon, Olympus, or Canon; slinging 'big cameras' to your shoulders is not weird, it's another cool thing. DSLRs are quickly becoming of what handphones were in the early 2000s. As the competition is getting vital, having a DSLR alone is not enough - it's what your 'add-ons' that matter. And so people go to the biggest of lenses, and the best of flashes to go with their cameras. All of this, because we're getting crazier over gorgeous pictures.

The thought of having a DSLR and not having good pictures in my albums recently makes me as unsatisfied as having a full bladder with no toilets around. Something really is missing, and it puzzles me a lot. It would do a lot with me and my photography skills anyway, so this writing basically, messes around with a lot of whining, come to think of it. So I thank you for reading!

Upgraded my Flickr account to Pro. The blog will be refurbished too, making ways to 'publicly' linking it, if you know what I mean.

Privacy, privacy. Well in a world I know, that is today, such word when uttered doesn't carry the real meaning at most times.

Happy belated birthday to Mama.

To be added into your calendar

Certainly not for those who are boring! Datanglah berkelompok-kelompok!

"Oh, you have a blog?"

I think I'll never have the correct answer if my atuk asks me what blogging truly is. And neither will I have the answer if my not-so-tech-savvy friends ask me the same question. Crap, as if I'd have the answer if my close friends who don't blog ask about it. I mean, what is it, this blog thing?

Sometimes I tend to take the liberty of thinking that I'm the only male blogger around. And before somebody points out that blogging is an effeminate trait, I do realise and I want you to be aware of the fact that most bloggers are girls; i.e, girls seemed to be loving to blog more than their male counterparts. I mean, that's about it. Move your lazy mouse and scroll through my links, and you'd see more female than dudes, and if you click on any names that you think are of guy's, you'd find the pages are either rarely updated, or definitely defunct.

Then what left me, sort of alone, here? Well there are other male bloggers around, but they're on another circle that is quite far, far away. It would be ultimately ridiculous if I say there is none, but among my peers, of course, blogging is not a past time. I like to write and that's what seems to keep this blog pulsing. I like to take pictures, and because I am just damn lazy to cope with the much practical Flickr or Fotopages, I just put (some of) the photos here. Very little personal stuffs are posted. It's the deal between me and my blog, I stick with it, and so far the blog is still alive.

The case is, I'm an 18 year old dude who blogs. I'm not your ideal jock, but seriously, I hate fancy stuffs to be lingering around in my posts either. The more rational my posts are to the readers, the better. To say this is quite a repetition for me, and of course the issue of what is rational and what is dumb to some people is definitely subjective. I'd love to talk about people and what I do everyday, but I like it more when I have the chance to talk about stuffs that cracks your mind, pushes your head, kicks your ass, whatever instead of publishing an open online diary.

But I have nothing against open online diaries - keep 'em open, keep 'em online, and keep making it a diary! We all love 'em don't you think?

There are many cool blogs in the Malaysian blogger sphere and you should check it out. By that, I mean find it yourself. The beloved diaries make parts of personal blogs, and when it's personal, hell yeah they are personal. So don't bother them, shall we?

And then there's a bunch of bloggers who, write for the sake of letting the world to take notice of their ideas. In other words, they're contributing. And with them flow the great flood of thoughts - the fresh thoughts of the new generation - and damn yes, thoughts are very vulnerable to the opposable and agreeable. Some are catchy and cool, some are deemed dangerous by the authorities, some are just crazy creative. They talk about issues, and so vast and diverse the issues are: arts, politics, sports, entertainment, lifestyle, all sorts of. By talk, here, we mean discuss. And these pseudo-think tanks have started to attract quite large amount of people to their spaces. Everyone seems to have their own point of view nowadays, so there is really nothing strange.

However, don't get me wrong. Bloggers don't fall to any specific categories. Damn yes we are so hard to be classified! Why, and what for do we type this stuff and that stuff over the net anyway? Some branded us for attention-seeking. Others, self-indulging. Then there is selfishness, then there's ignorance. Or maybe because we're so damned bored. Again, I'm not so sure. Do you?

Anyway, why blog when there is Counter Strike around? (and maybe some other things?). In the end it lefts us with the matter of personal interests. Girls blog more than guys, guys watch YouTube more than girls, girls find DSLRs a freaking big turn off - who cares? It's a part of the lifestyle nowadays. You know, it's like how one out of five teenagers will turn out to be a mat rempit, that sort of thing, or how people would adore those Supersavers' nights, or new gargantuan shopping malls.

Malaysian bloggers, male or female, certainly have lots of stuffs to be talked about. From celebrities to politicians, university graduates to school kids, we type like keyboards will vanish tomorrow. Some know the limits, though, some don't. I know my limits. And boy, we do have our own readers, visible or not. We have copycats too, sometimes, but as long as they know how to meow accordingly, it's acceptable. (I can tolerate about, as far as I know it).

I'm quite occupied nowadays, so I don't blog that often. I try not to write rubbish too when I do. (Should you think this is rubbish then leave a comment. I'll see what I can do next). What I can say is and what I think you should know is, blog-owners, male or female should really, really know what you want to be displayed in your blog pages. Whether it will be downright boring or interesting, honestly, is another thing.

Then again it's yours, of course, you can turn it into a private one but if you don't, consider listening to those reading. And before some outraged feminist and gay activist sue me or threatening me to treat them ice creams due to the sort of excessive gender references in this post, I rest my case.

I definitely have nothing against feminists, gay activists, and open diaries. However I don't like the favor of treating ice creams without reasons. I'm not a sexist either. Copycats are really annoying at times, on a second thought.

further your questions to Ameer & Dira, classmates! :)

are we social notworking?

Comments, testimonials, stalkers, fake pictures and now newbies.

Well, let's face it. MySpace has been flooded with so many 'weird' users, polluting every space they know and stalking people as if there are no borders. In fact, no 'borders' exist, and even when profiles are set to private we still receive 'ugly' friend requests - you know what I mean. Rempits, girlfriends of rempits, confused kampung profiles and others similar to it are threatening the fore users of MySpace - whose many profiles dated back to its pioneer year of 2003.

P30pLe wh0 tYpE liKe tHiS and those whose grammar is at critical level (I hates my life? You sucks? I loves my fwens? Dunt b like a fucking person? U make me annoying? What are the fuck?!) are multiplying in the MySpace squatter zones. Users like these grow in numbers day by day, conquering our once favourite website, making it overrated as ever.

Who, or in this case, what is going to save us? (No, not Friendster)

And Mark Zuckerberg created Facebook. Of course, it is not new - it was created February 4, 2004 - almost as the same time Friendster and MySpace were born. Though existed for a relatively long time it knocked the popular culture (that is, ours) just up until recently; and it is certainly not a hybrid of Hi5 or, God forbid, Kawanster.

That's about Facebook; check it out for yourself if you don't have one as I'm seriously not writing this to promote the site (and I'm not very good at recommendations either). It's about this wicked phenomenon, critical as it is slimy, that is hitting 'Malaysian' MySpace severely, up to its notches. It's becoming a burden to approve and deny requests; my requests are beginning to pile up due to my indecisive habits of approving. And up to a level of annoyance, those with weird names, fake pictures, and private profiles (with dumb locations like sTrawbEwWy lAnD - though it may be Cameron Highlands of some sort) will be denied straight away.

Nevertheless, if he or she is a friend in a real life, there will be some sort of exception. Like Haziq in his old days loved to put Naruto-oriented display pictures. And how some of us have certain fetishes for Garfield and Initial D. And Barbie, but that was a long time ago - and now we certainly not supposed to be acting like newbies. Even VGA images taken from certain angles (imagine pout lips with phones raised at extreme vertical level) are deemed treacherous, though still acceptable.

(Again, there are double standards for this - if you're hot than it's OK, but if you're not, don't over do it alright, kids? 'Angles' are just a big no-no.)

Despite all this we all still tend to waste half of our lives browsing through pages and putting up comments - and for some cases and for those who still do - decorate their pages with HTML fancy codes, and by that, I mean over-decorating their pages. Glitzy flakes pouring half way down through your monitor are surely damn cute, and yeah, we really appreciate your large variety of music tastes that coincides with multiple video clips here and there. But lo and behold, if one mistook the codes from a wrong site (especially HTML rookies), spams sprout. And if you happened to befriending one of this users (usually newbies or old users who just don't learn), you'll get those really unwanted Macy offers of handbags, and other things more exotic than handbags.

However we all may have understood that, when there are people, there will be problems. And in a case involving 200 million accounts worldwide (and counting), surely some problems would occur. Strangely and ironically, for a country with a large MySpace population (face it, everybody seems to have MySpace nowadays) there is no allocations nor offers for MySpace Malaysia to be set up. Friendster seemed to have been realising this, though, but Tom just like to see us being stacked up in the Global website instead of having a regional (read: Malaysian) MySpace site for us.

Again, strange. And ironic.

Quite a large number of people have started to realise the increasing MySpace drawbacks. Typical (read: old) MySpace users are beginning to rage sinister outcries of the non-beneficial and ugly side of the site. During the recent months Tom and Co. surely have worked hard to fight spam and ensure everyone had their portion of personal space while the deal of privacy seemed to have deteriorated.

But hey, sunshine is still around. As long as there is people that we love and loath in our forever beloved friend list, who cares? They are the reasons to stay, besides those hotties and cool people residing at the highest class of MySpace hierarchy. Sure we'll keep denying rempits and grammatically-challenged people (here's a hint: there's another language called BM that you can use, even we're using it) and not replying ignorant messages, because as long as there are friends, MySpace is forever relevant.

Now, drop some comments at my page will ya?!

MySpace.com/Syukri has been existing since 2004, and from the ages of Sony Cybershots to the advent of DSLRs, the page is still breathing. Add up if you don't! And yeah, try Facebook. I have nothing against newbies using MySpace, of course, go on! Spread! I can use the 'block user' button anytime, anyhow.