A Muted Global Pandemonium

Internet luring is common, since perhaps, 10 years ago. And any child can become the victim of an internet predator. A sexual predator, to be exact. And these predators are open to anything. They don’t discriminate gender, ethnicity, education, socioeconomic status, even religion.

Nowadays, there are many stories of young children being groomed online and raped. Rescued? Less than half of that.

However, even at home, one is not safe. One does not have the fear of being left alone for no reason. Or being left alone with a certain person.

I don’t personally know any rape victims, but I do know a number of those who were sexually abused – as a child, even adults. And there are a few that I know who were sexually assaulted by their own next of kin – the victims of incest.

While they nervously shared with me about the routine event of molestation, whether or not they experienced the sadistic crime of rape, I don’t really know.

When I was 18, a friend in high school once shared a very disturbing story with me. A story of incest that took place in the 1970s between his uncle and his aunt. Every now and then, whenever the topic comes into discussions, I would have flashbacks of the narration that makes me sick. The narration was so graphic. It was more than just molestation. And I questioned the incident, though – was it rape, or accidentally a consensual sex?

It was a tale of incest that first took place in a cornfield. His uncle who was drunk when he shared the story with him was in his late teen when one day he realised how fully developed his younger sister was. Puberty did her right. She was curvy and voluptuous. She still is today, even in her late 50s.

The siblings were close when they were kids. They were innocent. He admitted, however, that he has always been sexually active and developed wild imaginations when he was a young boy. As he gets older, masturbating was getting boring for him.

He has had his eyes on his sister for quite some time before the cornfield incident. He shared that he would have sexual dreams of her. Her shadows and silhouettes at night drove him crazy that he would masturbate to the images he has of her whenever he had the chance.

The sister who had no idea what was going on in her brother’s head, of course, didn’t have any suspicions and was okay being left alone with him. He was her trusted babysitter. Or at least, seemed less predatory.

The story as told by my friend:

So one day, in the cornfield, and happened to be far from everyone else, just the two of them, he couldn’t control himself. Watching his sister walking from behind, somehow physically exposed, he could feel himself having a hard-on.

He couldn’t stand the torture anymore and told her to stop walking. She ran to him and coincidentally brushed her breast against his face as he lifted his head and moved closer to her.

He took a step back and looked at her from top to toe. Obviously, he was undressing her. But still, she didn’t suspect anything. Until he got even closer to her and started violating her body. She was stunned, I’m sure but, couldn’t say anything. He pinned her down in the dirt in the cornfield.

He started touching her firm breasts. He took off her shirt. And then her bra. He groped and massaged her breasts. He pinched her nipples between his fingers. Her nipples both go rock hard at that. She whimpered. It turned him on and then continued rubbing and pinching her nipples for a while. He was having a time of his life with no guilt at all. And she moaned a little as if she liked it.

He then started kissing her breast, and slowly went down and started sucking them. While at it, he pulled down her pants, sliding it down her hips. He spread her legs and started caressing her thighs. He could feel her body shaking. And slowly pulled down her pants and panties to her feet. She was breathing heavily and moaning as he became more aggressive with her breast. When he rubbed her pussy, she whimpered. She was so wet!

Dude, I am a guy and I know for sure, why he couldn’t help himself!

Her body language was so inviting, she whimpered and moaned! She was so wet that she allowed his finger slid up her snatch then forced its way inside her pussy! She was a virgin and her pussy was tight.

It’s so wrong that I was so into his story. They are my uncle and aunt for fuck sake!

And of course, naturally, she spread her legs even wider. He didn’t need any more encouragement to go on. He took off her pants and panties, shoved his head down, started kissing and licking her pussy. She was moaning like crazy as his tongue plunged in and out of her. He fingered her and ate her out. And later, his hard dick slid into her wet pussy. As he was fucking her, she was moaning, gasping and panting, craving more.

Doesn’t she know that she was being raped? Did she want it to happen? I had so many questions in my head.

And I asked my friend, “Didn’t he feel guilty at all?”

“He said he enjoyed it, and he could tell that she enjoyed it too. She sort of didn’t say stop,” said my friend.

“Did it happen again after that?” I asked.

“No idea, I didn’t ask. But I can’t look at them the same way anymore,” he said.

Well, I don’t think I can even see them as siblings, hugging each other without thinking it’s sort of in a comforting yet sexual embrace.

But they seem to be cordial with each other. They are both married. Not to each other, of course. And in fact, they are grandparents now.

Let bygones be bygones, I guess. But I am pretty sure, if it was rape, she must be traumatised by the incident. And if she was, perhaps at that time, nobody reacted to her traumatic reactions. Perhaps even she herself would not have realised that she has checked out for a while and was not being herself. And she must have had an endless amount of sleepless nights. And perhaps, dealt with it by never telling anyone, and eventually forgetting it herself.

No two rape victims will react in the exact same way. Some would want to be positive and live their lives. While some would think, what is the point of living anymore? And they would engage in substance abuse of drugs or alcohol to help cope with the overwhelming feelings.

There are many short- and long-term effects of sexual assault and rape. There are the physical, mental and spiritual effects. Mental illness and depression can lead to self-injurious behaviours. Victims of sexual abuse become abusers themselves.

According to Penang Women Development Corporation (PWDC) chairman Yap Soo Huey in 2015, there are 3,000 rape cases reported every year on average in Malaysia, with only two out of 10 cases going to court.

Rape is a crime that revolves around power, hostility, and violence. Rapists don’t discriminate. And they can be anyone – strangers and family members with an insatiable thirst.

Rape happens every day. Yet, it’s one of the most under-reported crimes in Malaysia and around the world. A lot of evidence point out that Malaysians’ attitude towards rape is very poor. And victim-blaming seems to be the culture.

I’m not a professional but I’m glad that people trust me enough to talk about their experiences with me. I believe by doing so, they feel more relieved and liberated. And that they stop blaming themselves for what had happened to them.

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. For some of us, it’s a day of love and romancing. Some, it’s a day to be a complete couch potato. While for the rest, it’s probably a day of reliving their worst nightmare.

Everyone wanted their first time to be a loving and positive experience. Unfortunately, not everyone gets what they want and eventually make themselves believe they had a wonderful night.

On a separate (yet related) note, one of the biggest forces in the Universe is puberty. It has the highest potential for transforming one’s life from zero to hero. Don’t forget, good genes play a part too.

While we can say that puberty kicked in at the right moment and did the right job with some of us, it did not for the rest, with additional fat tissue and funny patches where they are not needed.

But when it did the right job, and you are in the wrong place at the wrong time, it gives rise to certain evocative tales – sexual assault and rape. Perhaps, let’s include child sexual abuse as well.



Free Love And How We Conversate

Meaningful interactions we have today with others are subtly being destroyed by the Internet and mobile technologies. We are being disconnected from the world around us, and subconsciously are leading to an inescapable sense of isolation we call our private space.

10 years ago, the only social media platform I was on was Blogger for the most obvious reason. And my only form of communication besides face-to-face communication was the Short Message Service (SMS). I rarely make phone calls and the only phone calls I would receive would be from my then boyfriend. When we were in a long-distance relationship, there was Yahoo Messenger.

Today, I start my day by checking messages on WhatsApp and Skype, email, skimming the latest headlines on Huffington Post or Buzzfeed, posting random photos with a kickass caption on Instagram, posting something ambiguous on Facebook and once in a while, swiping left and right on Tinder. And for some people, for the rest of the day, they are constantly on their mobile devices for both personal or professional use.


With the internet and mobile devices, we have the ability to connect with people instantly at our fingertips regardless of our whereabouts. Yet, ironically, by being connected, we’re also disconnected. Our social behaviours have changed since we decided to place a screen in the middle of our interactions.

Thank you, inventors, for your brilliance and inventions. But to be honest, I’m really tired of it – of the sense of disconnection – though I do agree that at the same time, it makes life a lot easier. Yes, we benefit from it. I mean through a social networking site like Facebook, for instance, it is amazing how we can find a long-lost friend, enabling us to reconnect.

But that as it may, although we conveniently turn to mobile devices for our social needs, we primally yearn for physical interaction. I know I do – not so much lust, but warmth. But the problem is, like our devices, we now expect our relationships to be just as fast and brief. And this diminishes the quality of human interaction.

A hook-up application like Tinder makes it easier for those who wants just that – a brief and fast, no string attached sexual relationship. Although many of us are trying to break the stigma of it being just a hook-up application, we are secretly glad that it exist for what it is. The main reason being – there is no need for emotional obligations and expectations. We love the ‘free love’ so much that we just don’t value or cherish actual relationships anymore.

However, this technological detachment affects not only social relationships but family ties as well.

Often when I’m out at a restaurant by myself or with my friends, I get emotional looking at a mother and child laughing and bonding together, father and son discussing yesterday’s football match and grandchildren listening to grandparents talking about their past. It would remind me of my family back home and the time that I missed spending with them, being away on the other side of the country.

But today, we don’t often see all these anymore. Half the people at the restaurant would either be so engrossed in an online conversation on their mobile phones or play games on other devices.

We are now spending more time with technology than we are with our loved ones. Even when having our breakfast or dinner at home, most of us would hunch over our phones or tablets as we take one bite after another of our food. I myself am guilty of this crime sometimes, but I avoid doing it at home.


It is very common nowadays to see parents using these mobile devices to keep their children occupied before they become distracted or loud. Once at Sushi Zanmai, while the parents were enjoying each sushi after another, the son – age between 4 to 7 – was so engrossed watching cartoons on YouTube.

By doing this rather than bonding with them, many of these children grow up not even bothering to hang out with the family even on their free time. They think it’s okay to not bond with their family members anymore. In fact, even special family occasions are now infiltrated by mobile technologies.

We are overusing the technology and it is declining our face-to-face communication and family time. What will happen 10 years down the road?

We were once invaded by human with weaponry who killed millions, we should not be invaded by hazardous humanoids. Before they invade us and takes over our human duties and human rights, we should not place too much importance on technology.

Uninstall Outlook on your mobile phone for a start. Nobody will fire you for not checking your emails at 12 midnight on a Saturday. And if you do get fired, shove a broom up that sender’s ass.

And even if you still have it on your phone, you have a choice not to check your emails at hours where you should be spooning your loved one, if not having sex or dozing off.

The Servant’s Heart

_20160817_201045“Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful.”
— The Buddha

We’ve all been stuck between a hot burning flame and a black hole when it comes to making decisions. At some point, after all that struggle, we’d just look to our instincts.

I would have this compunction or fixed attitude of thinking about my values when I make my decisions and choices. Sometimes, I feel like I constantly need my moral compass to guide my decision-making. This got me question if morals are flexible.

For example, English is my second language. As I’m not a native speaker nor have I ever taken any special English language class, I never take a word lightly. I grew up understanding that is important to have my own opinions. But it is also important to properly use a word so people are not offended when I speak.

Sometimes I still filter myself and make sure that I know the meaning of the words I tend to somewhat exploit in my speech. After all, today, we live in a world where sometimes we don’t realise how hurtful our words can be.

Just a few days ago, I was doing some personal self-evaluation. I’ve always known my flaws, my weaknesses, and my strengths in terms of work. As a person, a daughter, a sister, a friend and a girlfriend.

My mom is 52 this year. All her life, she had to overcome impossible obstacles, but she has astonishing exciting and success stories. One of our recent conversations got me thinking a lot about her willpower. I wish I could disclose and share it here but that’s too personal.

At the same time, I couldn’t help but think how I’m so much like her. And that I have to be stronger than her for her.

It’s beyond doubt that it’s because of her, I became the first person in my family to go to a university and complete my degree with honours. She had to mortgage her jewelry. That was one decision she didn’t hesitate making.

From an early age, I knew my family was different than most. At the age of 2, when we were still staying at kampung with my paternal grandparents, I could feel that our household was hostile and unhappy. This made me realised I had the ability to absorb people’s emotions very easily – probably the moment I was born. And I had my first near-death experience when I was barely 1 year old. My eyes turned white. It scared my mom to death.

At 3, we moved out. We moved to Kuching and my mom was so much happier. That hostel room we stayed in was her happy space. Although at that time, she was a young adult juggling her problems, work and being there for my dad and me at all times. Even though she’s tired, she still managed to go about the day with a smile on her face.

My mom never sugar-coated life, and she never makes promises. She had me when she was 23. Since I was born, she had no choice but always to have faith and believe in me.

Just watching her, observing her, feeling helpless that I couldn’t help her when I was younger, in some such way instilled practical life and surviving skills within me (I was also driven by anger and disappointment).

I owe all of my accomplishments to my mom. Of course, she had a dream for me. I didn’t turn out the way she planned but she’s cool with whatever now. I turned out decent – very ambitious, but not greedy. I mean, no matter what we do, what mistakes we make, what we say, or how much we upset our moms, their love for us will never peter out. It will always be pure and unconditional.

Watching my mom taught me how to work for what I want, rather than expect it for free. I learned that considering the long-term outcome over the short-term is important in decision-making.

At times I feel like she would unknowingly set unrealistic expectations for my sisters. But I know where she’s coming from and all she want is the best for everyone. She would push everyone to do their best. But she does it her way, which may not be in favour of some people. Moms, huh. Let’s face it, they put up with our crap.

My mom is a very simple person. Pride, arrogance, greed and selfishness are rampant today. She doesn’t practice all that. It’s not organic to her. And they are definitely not the right ingredients for happiness.

Every day, there are terrific opportunities to be appreciative and thankful. To humble ourselves which we may overlook. Of course, when shit happens, we can choose to be bitter and resentful. But that’s just really tiring. The best decision is to let it go or start shooting ammo.

My mom is appreciative and grateful. That’s how she go about her day and that’s what makes her different. She is truly an inspiration. At least for me. That one conversation somewhat opened her eyes to look at things from a different perspective.

My mom will never know this blog exist. She pays no heed to technology and I pay very little. But I know she knows that I’m here, there, anywhere and everywhere. And right now, I’m about to make a decision that she would probably not like in the beginning but will be fine with later.

PS: Some people are born appreciative, thankful and humble, while the rest just luxuriate in flattering themselves. I don’t have a servant’s heart. I care for people and I’d put them first. But at the end of the day, I’d die only for my family and friends who truly matters.


If The Father Of My Children Stays

My relationship with my dad is very complicated. It’s different from what my sisters have with him. There is so much to say but I don’t know where to start. I’d like to just remember a few interesting conversations and great times we had. When I was a little girl though, I was very close to him.

I’m not a parent yet but I have four younger sisters. They are all very dear to me. I’d kill for them. I almost did when I was 20. Most of my peers are married with kids and more are moving towards that stage of life.

There is this term very commonly used here in Malaysia – “Kurang Ajar”. It is used to describe rebellious and ill-mannered kids and youth [even adults]. I think the term is a bit too strong and hurtful. It would also, unfortunately, reflect poorly on those who uses it – especially parents.

Children, I noticed, learn more from watching their parents than from listening to them. They observe their parents and one is lucky if they pick up one’s positive values and qualities. This really puts great weight on how we conduct our lives. Some may have to change 360 degrees!

If I ever get married, have kids and if the father of my children stays, I, of course, want to hear them say good, positive things about him. Things that I never really get to say about my dad.

I’d at least like to hear my kids – when they’re older and begin to understand the world better – say “he was a good friend, he was always good to mom, he was wise and he had our best in mind.”

And I certainly don’t want people to describe them as “kurang ajar” if they say bad things about their dad.