Stranger in a Train

29 January 2011

Trivial Pursuit, Weekender, The Star

For the full text, please read here

Though some truly amazing things have happened to me by virtue of this column, I would have laughed till I was blue in the face if you had told me a year ago, that the it-could-only-happen-in-movies events in "Stranger in a train" would take place one day.

But happen it did. And things are still happening. And as I reel from the extraordinary strangeness of reality that we live in, I find myself wondering: what lies ahead for the rest of 2011?

To all my readers, thank you for a brilliant start to the year. I've always suspected that I've gotten more out of the column than I've given it, and the avalanche of encouraging letters, emails, facebook messages and smses just proves it.

Mere words will never suffice to convey my feelings when I read your heartfelt responses to my article.

Maybe emoticons will do the job?

:):):)

Or, a photo maybe?

Love you all!

The Ipoh of Yore

25 December 2010
Scratching Post, Weekender, The Star
Link to Star article

I'd like to thank Ian Anderson from Ipohworld for kindly contributing the two evocative photos used in this article.

Ipohworld, an education-based, not-for-profit organization, has done some truly remarkable work in promoting awareness and appreciation of Perak, with particular focus on Ipoh. It has become the leading information archive on Ipoh's heritage, as well as the liveliest online community for Perakeans.

Give them a shout at www.ipohworld.org

No beef

Weekender, The Star, Scratching Post

For the full text, please click here.

No, I didn't write this headline but it was worth a chuckle anyway.

Wonderful friends ...

...and wonderful pizza :)

... Sepuluh ringgit sahaja! (Obviously I like eating here very much, and not just because it's eminently affordable)

Though the question was at the back of my mind the WHOLE time when I called Frank on Sat night, I waited till the end of our phone conversation before asking timidly, "Where did you go for dinner?"

"AJ. Ta pau."

"Were there anybody who came because of the article?" Gulp. Nervous. Sweat.

"Got."

Phew.

He continued grimly, "A LOT of people. Some cancelled their orders. What to do? He said philosophically. They all came at one shot."

This is one of the reasons I didn't want to write a full-length feature about AJ's Pizza and Pasta. Having tasted the consequences second-hand at Vary Pasta (the writer was so traumatized that he ate his pork knuckle dinner in quiet terror, while the waiters dashed about in a tizzy attending to the avalanche of customers), I knew the consequences of a review in a major national newspaper: pandemonium.

A two-man show like AJ's wouldn't be able to handle a crowd of such mob-like proportions.

All said and done, I was ecstatic when Khan sent me this message: "God bless you. You care for us."

Ah, food for my stomach, heart and soul :)

The Neophyte Writer - Oct-Dec 2009 Quill

Pei Ling oh Pei Ling,

Beloved friend/much adored little sister/exceptional writer, thanks for reminding me about this article.

That's The Way the Cookie Crumbles, my now-defunct story-driven column in Quill (replaced with the more pragmatic Survival Tricks for the Freelance Writer) chronicled valuable lessons that may not be that obvious to wet-behind-the-ears freelance writers like myself.

Like this one dispensed by a Malaysian icon at an MPH event in 2006.

While purists ("What, how dare you equate writing to selling?") may balk, it still ranks as the best piece of advice (i.e. practical as opposed to hopelessly idealistic and not applicable to real life) I've ever received about freelance writing.

Reading this again, I detect decidedly Cinderella-esque overtones hehe.

Would you believe it - until now, I have not plucked up the nerve to tell him about this article?

To Eric Forbes and May Lee, thanks a million for the opportunity to write for Quill!

I'm in heaven

To read the full text, please click here.

I thought this was a rather strange title - no, I didn't supply it - until a friend pointed out it could have been extracted from an old pop song:

Pity the picture didn't come out too well in print.

Here's the haul for the rest of the day:

The institutional yong tau fu stall in Madras Lane

The out-of-this-world linguine carbonara I was salivating over a few hours later at Carmen's. Thanks for the tip, Samantha Fong!

All in all, a great day that kind of paid off for itself, although I DID haul myself out of bed at 7.30am and only got back home at nearly midnight after squeezing in 7 appointments in a single day.

Who says freelance shake legs only?

Spunky Madam

To read the full text, please click here

In all honesty, I was never a huge fan of duck until I ate at Madam Heng's. Restaurant Hong Kong was merely another name in my litany of must-visit restaurants for the Perak Good Food Guide, which I was commissioned to write in 2008.

It was lust at first bite - the juicy-fleshed, crispy-skinned duck was simply otherworldly.

Since then, I've been a regular visitor, if not to eat, then just to drop by and shoot the breeze with the amiable auntie who runs the shop.

This story took a while to crystallize. It really is a tapestry of numerous events that seemed random and unconnected and unimportant save for their entertainment value, until the final piece - that dinner that I didn't want to happen but happened anyway - fell into place.

Unanticipated. That's how they all happen right - whether it's the right moment, the right story or the right person? :)

...

To give you an inkling just how good her roast duck is ...

By the way, credits to Wang Shao Ming for the "I am fine, you are fine, we are fine" photo. My bad for forgetting to submit your name, no fault of The Star. Roast duck on me, ya? ;)

Point me to Pekan

Article is here

Taken at Chief's Rest House.

Of course I didn't make it all up :P

I used to go off on off-the-beaten-track jaunts like this ALL the time, before age and its attendant paranoia kicked in .... well, no more!!!

I've resolved to hit the less-trodden road at least once a month (ok lah make that two. Have to cari makan mah. How can I go off charging to obscure little towns so often?)

But I WILL make it a fixture in my schedule. I was lugubrious before I hit the road, and after I came back from Pekan, I was like a new woman!

And if there's anything that Pekan proved, there's nothing like the promise of adventure to put a spring in my step and rekindle the fire in my belly :)

*a thousand anguished editors scream CORNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY*

Excuse me while I go eat a cup of Nelson's buttered kernels :P

Toodles,

The Flouncy Bouncy Bunny

In case anyone is wondering, I'm working on the sequel to Point me to Pekan right now, hold your horses ya. Not sure if it is going to end up on Navel Gazer or as a travel piece. Will see where the stars lead me.

*And a thousand editors shudder in horror at this shameless use of cliche*

A child's wisdom

Scratching Post, Weekender, The Star

For the full text, please click here.

There are some articles I keep out of my folks' radar.

Sexually charged ones (my column may focus on fluffy feelgood stuff but rabbits are not conventionally associated with Lily White ok :P), and articles like these.

It'd only worry them silly, and then they'd worry me sick with questions I have no answers to like: "Girl, are you making enough? Don't worry about mum and dad. We have more than enough to spend from our pension."

... the point is, I come from a very traditional family, with a firm set of values that includes the automatic expectation that after your folks have raised you and put you through university, it's now your turn to give back.

I miss that part of my corporate life. BAD. I miss sending them on holidays, giving them healthy doses of pocket money, surprising them with an expensive meal or two.

Right. Time to actually actualize that best-seller novel huh?

Bitch as I might about the sucky customers and ridiculous demands, I would never go back to my desk job. Still, it's only normal, I suppose, to have the odd dark moment of doubt ...

This article sprung from one of those dark moments. I had another more chipper piece already drafted but somehow, it felt disengenuous to send off a piece that didn't mirror my mood of the moment. As my deadline drew nearer, I started to panic. How? I don't have anything else that reflected the conflict that was percolating inside. And I didn't want Navel Gazer to deviate from my original vision of what it was: an honest, unvarnished reflection of my feelings of the moment.

Luckily, my meeting with Fenny came along and saved the day, phew!

On unrelated matters, may I have your indulgence, ladies and gentleman:

I just started a new fashion diary blog at http://frockout.blogspot.com

I originally intended it to be an online blogshop to sell off my pre-loved baju but I'm having so much fun recording my sartorial musings so, as the wise sages say, que sera sera!

My pretty new sandals :)

It was an experiment for both of us.

Me: I'd never known there were such things called painted shoes.

Her: she'd done this on canvas, and glass, and ceramic ... but never rubber. And cheap rubber at that (psst...these pasar malam sandals cost a fiver shhhhh)

Neither of us had any idea how they would turn out - whether the paint would last, or the patterns would turn out pretty, but I needn't have worried. In the sure hands of Carmen Hah, a grimy pair of sandals was given a fresh new lease of life.

Pretty and delicate enough to satisfy my feminine wiles, yet free-spirited enough to appease my hippie sensibilities :)

This, ladies and gentlemen, is just the tip of the iceberg. To see more of what Carmen can do, hop over to carmenbrushtech.blogspot.com/

And to Denis, thanks for providing the link. Truly, your cosy diner is Ipoh's answer to Cheers, where everybody knows your name. Can't wait to sink my teeth into your delectable smoked duck and spaghetti carbonara *drools*

Gosh. It's amazing how one simple story can set off such a long chain in motion ;)

Dreams from a hot wok

Scratching Post, Weekender, The Star

To read the full article, please click here

Anyone can dream. You don't need balls to do that.

But to actualize that dream takes plenty of guts - and grit. Stuff which Tam has truckloads of.

I've eaten at and known Tam for years. Enjoyed his food, and then later his company, and went on to develop an abiding admiration for his quiet, unassuming ways.

That's the man! :)

There are many reasons why I like going to Tam.

He's just downstairs (i.e. opposite Super Tanker, opens from 6-ish in the evening to 2am)

He's always ready with a smile for me (yes, even through those Sars-struck days)

... and of course, when inspired, his food is Tam's up (sorry, couldn't resist! :D)

Sometimes our conversations resemble chicken-and-duck talk - he speaks in a thick loghat that my bunny ears have occasional trouble unscrambling. Nevertheless their musical quaintness never fail to charm, even his smses:

Like today, "Saya x pandai BI tapi fahamla sikit nanti ptg sy suroh kwn terjemah dkt sy."

"Suroh?" So quaint! So old-school!

Or the other day, "Awak cakap buat saya ketawa hingga berguling. Apapun TQ. BZ ni pelanggan ramai nak masak dlu"

Is it just me, or is it a lot more fun to sms in BM? :)

One of my earliest food pieces, published in 2005 or 6

Papa the storyteller

Navel Gazer, The Weekender, 29th August 2009

To read the full article, please click here

"Wah. Now I know why your mother fell for him. Your father looks so handsome and smart."

Chang's probably just joshing me, but isn't that what all starry-eyed little girls feel about their father? And woe betide any unfortunate suitor who falls short of her daddy's lofty standards, ahem :)

Dad is one of those rare beings the Chinese call hoe sin sang. In Chinese, being an onomatopeic language, the phrase could mean one of two things: 1) Good man 2) Good teacher. As if all the forces of fate conspire to converge, my dad fits both the bills :)

He is legendary among my good friends for storytelling skills. On the eve of my gall bladder operation, he pinned my two besties Chang and Wendy to the hospital canteen chairs with horrific high-drama (his painful encounters with kidney stones) and feelgood fables (more Chinese fairy tales with an uplifting moral). Even I, who'd heard it all before, couldn't help grimacing when he recalled, with a relish he could afford on hindsight, the gruesome pain of kidney stones.

We were sitting in the hospital canteen when a faraway look entered Dad's eyes. He recalled, "The worst kind of pain is kidney stone pain."

I looked at mum. "How did Dad get it?"

"He grew up in Pangkalan, where there were a lot of tin mines. I guess it could be the minerals in the water they drank..."

"The stone is passing through your urethra, a tube so slender.." he shuddered. "It was so painful that my entire body broke out in sweat."

Mum nodded gravely. "He was bellowing like a cow. I drove him to the clinic and he couldn't even climb out of the car. The doctor had to come to the car and administer the jab..."

Suffice to say, Dad wasn't the only one who shuddered.

"I used to think, gallstones, kidney failure, back pain, all these things only happen to old people like our parents..." I said ruefully. "Guess what, we got old too. Or at least, are getting older.

"Yeah look in the mirror woman, face the facts staring right at you," Chang chipped in.

Indeed. Like it or not, I've got to deal with the fact that my body isn't an invincible machine anymore, able to withstand the vagaries of an unhealthy lifefstyle with no wear and tear.

"Can't sing that song by Corrs anymore...how does the refrain go, "We are so young, so young, so young now," Chang continued.

"No more fatty food. OMG." I facepalmed melodramatically.

"Look on the bright side," Chang quipped, "at least you save on liposuction."

What was that again ... Sai Ung Sat Ma? :)

The Iron Horse Driver & Ipoh's Mother-lode of Liew

Food, Weekender, The Star

For the full story, please click here

On lucky occasions, writers stumble upon stories they feel an instant affinity for: stories they enjoy exploring, reliving, and in some cases, eating.

These were two such stories :)

Above is my ode to an all-time Ipoh favourite - liew! Be still my wagging tongue :D

On the same day, this came out:

Scratching post, Weekender, The Star

For the full story, please click here

By now, I already know that these kind of low-wattage pieces about everyman don't register nearly as many hits, but my ode to Abang Azmi of KTM surely ranks as my favourite of all time for now, next to the jungle rain piece I did for Going Places in March 2009.

I must have met Azmi in January or so. After getting down from the train, I jotted down my experience in one breathless rush as soon as I could get my hands on a pc, and filed it away with the dozens (maybe hundreds?) of other drafts I've written and tucked away in my computer.

While I knew his story was too compelling to reserve for my own enjoyment, I just couldn't hit the perfect final note. Even after dozens of drafts, I felt none of them were good enough to do justice to him, nor stand up to public scrunity. At one point, I despaired of it ever seeing the light of day.

The day it came out, I duly sent Azmi an sms in the morning, citing page, section etc.

One of his replies was: "I dah war-war kan artikel you pada kawan-kawan I."

Wow. Don't you think that single sms captured the zeitgeist of his personality, far more eloquently than my 1K whopper?

That man sure has a way with words ;)

(Not quite a ) Weary Writer

Scratching Post, Weekender, The Star

For the full story, please click here

To be perfectly honest, I hesitated at the Send button. This was such an awfully personal piece after all. 

In the end I decided to go ahead anyway, becauseI had a feeling that it would strike a chord with many people. I've just seen it happen so many times. Not just to me, but to my friends and loved ones - people working themselves (and their health by default) to the ground because they didn't know how to get off the rogue locomotive. 

Like me, they forgot that they were controlling the steering wheel. 

I wrote this about 2 months ago. Since then, other things have happened. Not necessarily bad things, just things that made me reevaluate life from a different slant. I've come to the conclusion that nothing is really over until YOU decide it's over. 

To those who asked, yes, I am better now. Much, much better. 

Thanks for caring. I am a blessed girl :)

XOXO

Bunny

The tomato queen

Scratching Post, Weekender, The Star
For the full story, please click here

How can I not be proud of this woman?

Her gung-ho, her resourcefulness, her never-say-die attitude: these are but the tip of the iceberg. Damn. Should I have suggested "My mum the wonderwoman" as the headline? Oklah, I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to get away with it :P

As I write this, she's outside, pottering in the garden and humming to herself. I guess she's, umm, pleased? :)

You might be surprised to know that I've never been really close to my mum until recent years, after I quit my job and had more time to spend with her, and learn from her, and enjoy her. Every day, I'm peeling off new layers and finding out that she's got so much more in her bag of tricks and ideas.

Friends who read the article would probably be nodding in agreement all the way. I may be her daughter and proud as hell about her, but I'm not exaggerating one whit.

Because my mum, incredible as it may seem when you lay eyes on her perky, petite frame for the first time, really is larger than life.

An angel in Chow Kit

Scratching Post, Weekender, 28 March 2009

For the full text, please click here

Cartoon credits: a certain Ms Charmaine Hon, brilliant writer and artist friend :)

A friend summed it up best: "There are Alberts in many parts of the world whose work go unnoticed and unrecognized all the time."

How does this sound (as a book title): "To all the Angels I've met before"

or

"To all the unsung Alberts in the world..."

Okok, no more cheese for the benefit of the lactose intolerant :)

This morning, I called Albert to apprise him of his 15 minutes of fairly anonymous fame. He didn't know I was going to do it of course.

I didn't either, up until last week, when I felt the story had matured sufficiently. A lot of encounters reside and percolate indefinitely - sometimes for too long - in my mind as half-baked stories, before they're eventually fleshed out and published. Anymore dithering and this one would probably gotten buried under other abandoned because yours truly got her knickers in a bunch over yet another fresh encounter ...

Albert, on the off chance that you're reading this, I hope this made your day.

Of trains and making friends

Out and About, Weekender, The Star
For the full article, please click here
For the background of this article, please click here

Hug those you love

Scratching Post, Weekender, The Star
For the full article, please click on this link
To read some readers' responses, please click here

This was such a difficult article to write: could you tell?

I still keep Pakcik Norhuda's last sms to me.

Nostalgic over Nosh

Scratching Post, Weekender, The Star
To read the full article, please click here
To read some readers' responses, please click here

Working at Perfection

Scratching Post, Weekender, The Star
To read the full article, please click here

This was originally meant to be a veiled tribute to perfectionism, but for some reason, everybody latched on to the "Greek God" phrase.

For days, Andrew had to walk around with a plastic bag over his head, to avoid the (real or imagined) stares of sniggering strangers.

And for days, every time the phone beeped, he would shudder, as more often than not, it was inevitably an sms that began with "Hi Greek God..."

The last message I got from him? "I want to strangle you!!!"

Paying it forward

Scratching Post, Star Weekender, 5 July 2008
Click here to read the full article
To read a reader's response, please click here