Poke at social norms from a leftist!

Sila Nerangalil Sila Manithargal (Sometimes Some people, Tamil;1975)

Director Bhimsingh

I have heard of this film, its rave reviews and how it catapulted actress Lakshmi into superstardom, unlike her contemporaries who stayed afloat because of their willingness to shed more to reveal more skin than they ought to rather than flash the acting prowess. Of course, there were the demure actress Vanishree who stayed away from the Tamil movie scene as she only wanted to show off her acting talent, that is all.

SNSM is a movie based on a controversial journalist/writer from Tamil Nadu named Jayakanthan. He is a self-professed leftist and communist accused of being arrogant for his crossing path with most known leaders of his era, including EV Ramaswamy and DMK and D.K. leaders.

The story starts on a wet rainy evening when the evening is eager to return home. At a bus station waits a Brahmin college girl, Ganga (Lakshmi)- (it had to be Brahmin to incur the wrath of the Brahmins as this move did) for her bus. Her bus never arrives. A car stops in front of her and the door. The audience is not shown the occupant or driver as the camera shoots from the inside of the vehicle. Also waiting nearby is a part-time writer and school librarian, RKV (Nagesh), who is watching the whole fiasco. He secretly hopes she does not enter the car, but Ganga enters it anyway to escape the unrelenting rain.

As predictable, rainy weather and a drenched young girl is a recipe for rape in a Tamil movie, and so it was. Ganga returns home to relate the incident to her mother, who strongly admonishes her predicament. Living in an extended family and a small house, her brother overhears it. She is banished from the home and is sent off to stay at her uncle's (mother's brother) house to continue her studies. All the bashing made her think that she indeed thinks she is 'damaged good', so she does not flinch at her uncle's inappropriate conduct.

Ganga graduates and assumes an excellent managerial post.
She leads a simple boring life worried about her future after being drilled down her psyche that she cannot be a wife but only a concubine.

Her meeting with RKV, who wrote a novel with his own imagination on the possible outcome of the incident on the rainy day, gives her a chance to meet her rapist, Prabhu (Srikanth)- who is a Brahmin too!
The rest of the story is about how they become friends to become the talk of the neighbourhood for becoming a mistress. Prabhu was actually married at the time of the rape. He is in an unhappy marriage with 3 kids. He is a changed man who has left his philandering ways and buries himself in alcohol.
Their relationship matures into love. Conforming to social norms, Prabhu proposes Ganga to get married to someone else. After her failed attempts in changing Prabhu's heart, Ganga decides to stay celibate. She sits alone in a white saree without a vermillion on her forehead like a widow as though keeping her 'chastity' for her rapist!

Jayakanthan

Jayakanthan, the thinker, questions some of the accepted norms in society. He ridicules how the fault always falls on the girl when she is raped or becomes a mistress, and society expects her to be chaste for her man even though it takes two to tango.
To sort of mock at society for its social norms, he quotes instances in the Indian mythologies where
an example can be found of exception to the social rules and is acceptable by all!

Memorable dialogue: Ganga reading a book by Gandhi, "At time of the rape, one should not practise ahimsa (satyagraha) but on the contrary be violent with all the God-given defence like nail and hand!"

P.S. I remember my Brahmin friend related how his community was up in arms with the writer and the film for choosing a Brahmin rapist and victim.

Whoever said that life is a beach...

¶♫♫♪There is a house in New Orleans..They call the Rising Sun...And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy...And God I know I'm one....  ¶♫♫♪
(House of the rising sun, The Animals,1964)

It is called the Beach but no sea around... They say it is this is the holy month but it is business as always. Another day another crowd whose thirst need to be quenched. Thirst of being on holiday and letting their hair down and needing to have a memorable time of their life. Exciting memories eased with the aura of being a millionaire in a third world country where goods and services are dirt cheap and are your disposal at a whistle or a snap of the finger. Thirst of desire to savour all pleasures before the final call, octogenarians flock here.

Like a scene from the opening scene of 'Manchurian Candidate (1962)' or 'Good Morning Vietnam', the club was a shangri-la with flowing golden intoxicating juices, music to soothe the ears and to reenact the lost years with retro music and a smorgasbord of pretty maids (who are everything but maiden) all in a row to dance to your tunes and fancies as long as they are handsomely greased with moolah. In fact there were more pretty maids that the patrons themselves. It was like a display of participants of the Third World Olympics where the poor were sufficiently represented - Philippines, Indonesia, Cambodia, Vietnam, Myanmar, and the crumbs of the now defunct Soviet Union! The providers all had a sad story to tell to justify their sadly demanding profession - money thirsty shark agents breathing down their neck for daily payments, the sob story of family in some kind of calamity, useless lazy husbands who fathered their children at a young and impressionable age, the relatives near and far who are always in some kind of financial difficulty and coincidentally the head of the family feels compelled that she should help and the list goes on and on. Devoutly religious back home, they justify their actions by proclaiming that they were drawn into the profession by sheer desperation and they purify their actions by carrying a rosary at all times.
The bosses of the premises are putting up a happy face. (Hey, people come here to have a good time. they do not want to hear my sob story). Boy, they must have a few especially when everyone in the club missed a heart beat when a patrol car with a its revolving blue light passed by. It must have been a subtle reminder by the men in blue that the regular dues are due! - further adding their blues...
Then the bartenders in midst of making thier clients happy must have their own tale to tell, just like in Billy Joel's hit 'Piano man'. Trying to stay sober and sane in midst of all the intoxicated incoherent regulars, there is another place he rather be but then it pays the bills in this trying times.
In midst of all these negativities, the joint helps to line the pockets of the little men. Scores of cabs are patiently awaiting potential picks who are probably too tipsy to drive or yearn for for a more private environment for private activities. And the row of stalls nearby are ever ready to cook up a sizzling meal to feed those ethanol induced hunger panks.

The club has put the capital on the world map and Discovery channel - a fine example of congregation of citizens of the world, the third world playing dance monkey to the affluent first world due to lack of financial prowess and lack of distribution of national resources.

First lady of the Olympics

Friday August 10, 2012
WHY NOT
By D. RAJ
The Star

As the Olympics wind to an end, it’s time for some nostalgia, and to remember the first Malaysian woman to take part in the Olympics and those Olympians who never made it there.
THE condo unit is a dedication to sports. On the shelf, there is a photo of the legendary Jesse Owens with a young girl, there are medals hanging on the wall and trophies on the cabinet. The coffee table is inlaid with sports pages.
“That’s me in the march past,” says the sprightly lady of the house, pointing to the table. Her name is Annie Choong.

Meeting a legend: Choong with Owens when he came to Malaysia.

Never heard of her? Well, long before shooter Suriyani Mohd Taibi had the whole world excited by going to the Olympics while being heavily pregnant, there was Choong. You could call her Malaysia’s first lady of the Olympics.
She was, after all, the first Malaysian woman to take part in the Games.
Choong was the only female member of the 30-something contingent to the 1956 Melbourne Games.
Meeting a legend: Choong with Owens when he came to Malaysia.
And she was one competitive girl. She ran the 100 yards, 200 yards and did the long jump as well!
Choong is still around. Now in her 70s, the lady, still slim, sprightly, active and looking much younger than her age, talks fondly of those days.
“There were seven of us in the athletics team then,” she recalls. “And we didn’t have the kind of dedicated training and coaching that athletes these days get.”
She said she would get up in the morning, go to work and then cycle from Kampung Baru to Cheras where the training was done. And exhausted after the training, she would cycle back home, only to get up and go to work again the following day.
“I had two coaches, Lim Thye Hee for the sprints and Lee Fun for the long jump. Both had been to the Olympics.”
And it wasn’t just the Olympics. She took part in the 1954 Asian Games in Manila and the 1958 Asiad in Tokyo, also qualifying on merit for the Games.
She retired from athletics in 1960 but the need for speed stayed.
Choong then switched to motor-racing. All togged up in leather suit and helmet, she took part in the Kenny Hill climb on a 50cc bike and won the race, beating five rivals – all males! Now, that’s competitive spirit for you.
But there’s a tinge of regret. She donated many of her trophies and the blazer she wore in the Melbourne Games to the National Museum. They were on display for a while but have been mothballed now.
“I wish I could have them back,” she says.
There are many others with regrets, too. Those would be the Olympians who never got to be there.
The first Malaysian to have qualified for the Olympics was a certain Eu Eng Hock, later to become Datuk Eddie Eu. It was 1932 – the times of the Federated and Unfederated Malay states.
Eu must have been something special. He was the 120-yard hurdles champion of this country and China came calling, asking him to represent that nation in the Los Angeles Olympics.
“It would have been very costly and involved travelling by ship for weeks to the United States,” says his son Leslie Eu.
So, the clerk with Boustead did not go. And our nation lost a chance of having its first Olympian then.
Little is known of the senior Eu now. World War II came soon after and a bomb flattened their home in Port Swettenham, now Port Klang. All his medals and memories of his achievements were gone.
The whole family, including a seven-year-old Leslie walked (yes, walked) along the rail tracks from Klang to Kuala Lumpur to move in with relatives.
After the war, Eu returned to the tracks (the racing one) and remained Malaysian champion until 1948.
The Olympics is every athlete’s dream. It must have been hard to miss out on the Games.
Many more missed out, too, when Malaysia decided to boycott the Olympic Games in Moscow in 1980.
Among them was Datuk Ow Soon Kooi, who was to have captained the national hockey team.
“It was one of the most frustrating things in my life,” he said in a recent interview. “We had worked so hard to get into the Olympics. And then, we were not going.”
The national football team also qualified for the Moscow Games and they, too, had to miss out.
Abdullah Ali was among those who would have played in Moscow. “Of course, we were frustrated not to be at the Olympic Games, then. We had to abide by the decision of the Government to boycott the Games. The FAM did compensate the team by sending us on a month-long tour of Europe – London, United States, Germany and Brazil,” he said.
“But nothing beats the chance of a lifetime to compete with the world best teams at the Olympics. The South Koreans (whom Malaysia defeated in the qualifiers) got to play instead.”
For Datuk Santokh Singh, it’s an agony every four years. “We can only watch it on television now,” he said. “Yes, we qualified on merit and to miss the biggest stage is indeed a bitter blow. And we cannot call ourselves Olympians. It is sad that we should mix politics and sports.”
Sad, indeed.
> The writer believes that the country needs a sports museum where all athletes who have made us proud can be honoured. A Hall of Fame alone is not good enough.

http://www.sports-reference.com/olympics/athletes/ch/annie-choong-1.html

Adele...

Adele Live at the Royal Albert Hall (September 22, 2011)
Just to subtly tell or drive in the point that nice things also dwell in the present time, not only in the yesteryears, my children decide to present me an audio CD and DVD of Adele Adkins Live at the Royal Albert Hall in London, of course. The same place many legends have performed, including the Beatles when they performed to the royal Windsor entourage. Remember the cheeky remark by John Lennon requesting the audience in the cheaper seats to clap their while the rest of them to just rattle their jewelry!
At a time when a pretty face, tender young age and an appealing physical attributes are major prerequisites for a successful musical carrier, Adele has managed to show her mantle and talent in weathering the fake fickle music world. Did you notice how songwriters write their songs first and record companies congregate singers to fit to the song rather than the other way around. Singing groups are formed by forcing pretty young singing 'divas' from different nooks and crannies of the world to form a group to sing to meet certain marketing strategies.
From my limited knowledge in appreciating music, I find that Adele has a rich mature sophisticated voice of a soul singer in the same league as Aretha Franklin, Ella Fitzgerald and Chaka Khan. A good change from the usual collection of pretty young things squealing at some forgettable pop bubble-gum teenage targeted songs. Adele blossomed from the ashes of the working class of the British society. Let us see how far fame and fortune can take this young lass who grew up with her single mother, idolizing 'The Spice Girls'.

I caught criminals in a cheongsam

http://www.nst.com.my/nation/general/i-caught-criminals-in-a-cheongsam-1.120548

05 August 2012
New Straits Times
By Arman Ahmad


INTERNET SENSATION: Sultry police officer Blossom Wong was a real-life version of a 1960s spy. An old photograph of her escorting American politician Robert F. Kennedy and his wife, Ethel, when they were in Malaysia, went viral on Facebook recently with many on the social networking site bedazzled by her glamorous looks. Arman Ahmad managed to track down Wong, now 74, to talk about her time in the force. Starting her career in the Special Branch, she retired as a superintendent of police after 36 years of service

YOU may wonder where I got the name Blossom from. My real name is Wong Kooi Fong.

I have always loved plants and gardening. When I was still a child living in Sungei Besi, Kuala Lumpur, I used to plant flowers. My father reared chickens, so I had a lot of chicken droppings for the plants. They grew very well.

There was a Caucasian district officer who lived near my house. His wife called me Blossom because I loved flowers and everything I planted grew well. That nickname stuck. In fact, in my police retirement card, the name is Blossom. It became almost like an official name.

When I finished my Senior Cambridge in the 1950s, I honestly didn't know what I wanted to do.

In those days, there were only two options available for girls. I could become a teacher or a secretary. Both were not my cup of tea. I was a tomboy in school and played hockey and badminton, and was in the debating and geographical societies. To me, teaching is boring, and to become a secretary, well you have to please your boss, and you cannot go out of the office. I'm an outdoor person.

After school, I worked with my dad in his poultry farm in Sungai Buloh. One day, there was a recruitment advertisement for the police force. They wanted people who were active and played games, and I thought why not give it a try.

I applied quietly without telling my father, who wanted me to be a teacher. I'd rather not because I was quite naughty in school and was afraid of getting balasan (retribution) from my students for all my misdeeds in school.

One day, I was walking in town (near the current Pavilion shopping mall) and saw a police patrol car. In the front seat was a lady officer and she had a cap on. She looked so smart. She looked at me and smiled and from that moment, I was sold. I would be a policewoman.

In my heart, I knew I wasn't prepared to be a teacher. Besides, if I became a police officer, I would get to ronda around Kuala Lumpur in a police car every day.

As fate would have it, I got a letter asking me to report for training on Aug 1, 1957. I went for six months of basic training. I learned all sorts of interesting things, including marching, musketry and the law. I remember we had a good law instructor. His name was Barcharan Singh.

Marching three times a week in boots under the hot sun was the hardest part. All the orders were given in Bahasa Malaysia and at that time, my Bahasa was not up to par.

We woke up before 6am every day. By 6.10am, we were already marching from the barracks to the administration block. There were 15 women and an equal number of men in my batch. After graduation, we became probationary inspectors. I was chosen to join the Special Branch and given a posting in Penang. In those days, Sungai Besi was one of the communist hot spots and I wanted to be as far from my family as possible lest someone learned that I was a police officer. I had never been to Penang. Unfortunately, when I joined the Special Branch, I didn't get to wear the uniform, which had been my intention all along.

I would travel incognito all over Penang as a decoy or undercover. Working with the Special Branch took a toll on my social life. I was very unhappy socially. I was not supposed to mix with the other uniformed girls. When I met one of them on the street, I had to ignore them because it might give my position away. Despite this, I found it all very exciting. After four years, I requested for a transfer to Ipoh to become the assistant area inspector. I was the second in command, and there were five police stations to take care of.

In 1962, I was transferred to Kuala Lumpur after I got married. I was posted to the courts there. I became a prosecuting officer in the magistrate's and juvenile courts.

In January 1964, Robert F. Kennedy and his wife Ethel came to Malaysia. I was assigned to escort his wife and I was asked by my superior officer to guard Ethel with my life.

Wherever they went, I followed. I even followed them swimming in Selangor Club. I couldn't swim so I just sat and watched them. They stayed at a penthouse in Merlin. That was the only swanky hotel at the time.

When Ethel was in the penthouse, I stayed in the outer section. She was warm and friendly and I remember her inviting me to have tea with her. We had conversations about her children.

At that time, she already had a big family. When she went back home, she wrote to me in jest: "The TV had more pictures of you than me. If you ever come over, we would need a contingent to protect you."

During my career in the police force, I escorted numerous public figures, including Madam Park, wife of South Korean president Park Chung-hee, and Japanese prime minister Eisaku Sato and his wife, as well as the governer-general of New Zealand, among others. The Japanese prime minister gave me a Seiko watch that I wear until today.

In 1966, Albert Mah, an OCPD at the time, told me that we were setting up an anti-vice unit and I would be in it. He said: "Your fellow officers will show you the black cats."

I wondered what he meant. Then we went to Jalan Ampang, near Federal Bakery. On top of a Chinese coffee shop were numerous rooms. One of the men and I went up undercover and peeked into the rooms. Some of the girls were sitting on beds. I used this visit to plan my operation. It was the first anti-vice operation and we caught a van full of girls. Some of them were underaged. One of them was pregnant. In those days, they were all local girls. There were no foreigners. After the first operation, it dawned on me how widespread it was. From Jalan Walter Grenier to Jalan Khoo Teik Ee to Jalan Hicks and Jalan Alor, there were many of them. The mama-sans became afraid of me. Later in my career, I would be called up to head another unit. This time, inspector-general of police Tun Hanif Omar asked me to set up the rape investigation section. We received training and a kit from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. We pioneered the use of DNA as evidence.

I retired in 1993. Now, besides spending time with my daughter and helping with her veterinary practice, I also do some gardening. I'm still quite good at planting flowers. I was with the police force for 36 1/2 years. I never regretted it. If I could do it all again, I would.

Wong escorting Robert F. Kennedy during his visit to Malaysia

Wong walking alongside Robert F. Kennedy during his visit to Malaysia. This photo went viral on Facebook recently.

Wong (left) with the wife of South Korean president Park Chung-hee

Wong still leads an active life

Old Pix - Kuala Lumpur

Reference:  http://www.carigold.com/portal/forums/showthread.php?t=178401

Kuala Lumpur 1880

Kuala Lumpur 1880

 

Kuala Lumpur World War 2

Kuala Lumpur 

KL 1960

Broken windows syndrome

William D. Eggers and John O'Leary
Policy Review
Fall 1995, Number 74

Excerpt:

'In a 1982 Atlantic Monthly article titled "Broken Windows," James Q. Wilson and George Kelling argued that disorder in a community, if left uncorrected, undercuts residents' own efforts to maintain their homes and neighborhoods and control unruly behavior. "If a window in a building is broken and left unrepaired," they wrote, "all the rest of the windows will soon be broken. . . . One unrepaired window is a signal that no one cares, so breaking more windows costs nothing. . . . Untended property becomes fair game for people out for fun or plunder."

'If disorder goes unchecked, a vicious cycle begins. First, it kindles a fear of crime among residents, who respond by staying behind locked doors. Their involvement in the neighborhood declines; people begin to ignore rowdy and threatening behavior in public. They cease to exercise social regulation over little things like litter on the street, loitering strangers, or truant schoolchildren. When law-abiding eyes stop watching the streets, the social order breaks down and criminals move in.

'"Stable neighborhoods can change in a few months to jungles," declare Wilson and Kelling. Disorder also can have dire economic consequences. Shoppers will shun an area they perceive as being "out of control." One study analyzing crime in 30 different areas found that the level of disorder of a neighborhood -- more than such factors as income level, resident turnover, or racial makeup -- was the best indicator of an area's lack of safety.'

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 St. Joe Valley Greens, South Bend, IN