Bye Bye Tanjung Pagar Railway Station...

I am not really a history buff but when I discovered that there was a piece of Singapore that was still owned by Malaysia, (and I am not talking about Pulau Batu Putih now know as Pedra Branca), I was baffled.

I was like... what in the world is a part of Malaysia doing in Singapore?

Confused? So was I. But then I looked on the interned and discovered this...

TANJUNG PAGAR RAILWAY STATION...

It's rather weird that Tanjung Pagar used to be owned by Malayan Railways or Kereta Api Tanah Melayu (KTMB), which though privatized is still fully owned by the Malaysian government. So, strangely the land on which the tracks and the station stands used to be owned by us - Malaysia!

Here is where it gets more complicated. You go through Malaysian customs when you enter the platform at the railway station. But then, you have to go through Singapore customs when you physically leave Singapore around half an hour later.

The station is now relocated to the Woodlands Train Checkpoint, which is closer to the actual Malaysian-Singapore border. This may seem more sensible, but it would have been an iconic mark had there been a tiny part of Malaysia still existing within the heart of Singapore even after decades of separation. Malaysia will also relocate its customs and immigration facilities to Woodlands.

The interior hall is opened to the public. 

Just like in Taiping railway station!

The station is supposedly popular for its very Malaysian hawker stalls. 

Ticket counter...

Another beautiful ticket counter...

An immaculate clock at the departure platform...

I'm not sure if all Singaporeans understand Malay, but most Malaysians think they just pretend not to to make themselves look posh... but a sign in English would have helped more...

Very artistic Art Deco design indeed...

The old Malay spelling is still maintained. In Malaysia, 'bilek' (room) is now spelled 'bilik'. Seems like a deliberate attempt to give the whole station a very nostalgic, pre-separation, pre-independence touch.

Four marble statues by Italian sculptor Rudolfo Nolli can be seen at the station's exterior. They represent the four pillar of the Malaysian economy at that time - agriculture, commerce, transport and industry.  The initials F, M, S, R; one above each statue mean Federated Malay States Railways, which was probably KTMB's English name before it was privatized.

Meet Mr. Industry!

Seeing 'Tanjung (cape) spelled as 'Tanjong' , which is in old Malay, it explains why 'bilik' is spelled as 'bilek'. Maybe Singaporean Malay still follows the older spelling manner. Maybe. I don't really know...

One might assume that the Malaysian Royal Police Force actually has jurisdiction in the heart of Singapore. Quite funny actually when you think about it. Maybe they might not even have changed the sign ever!

Typical Malaysian style. Can't even invest on proper erasing. Had to crudely cancel off 'Hotel' from the sign board instead of replacing it or covering up the words properly. No wonder our southern neighbours can easily make fun of us - we rub our weaknesses right up in their 'kiasu' faces!

Enchanting mosaic panels in the station's main lobby. They all portray Peninsular Malaysia's core activities at the time the station was built. Among them are tin-mining, rice-planting, rubber tapping, coconut-planting, maritime trade and many more agricultural based sectors. Singapore Rubber Works (which I highly doubt still exist since I am quite sure there are no longer any rubber plantations in the city-state) made these mosaic panel tiles out of coloured rubber through a patented process.

The stars with eight points which can be found on the ceiling near the entrance represents harmony and balance. Eight is an auspicious number to represent balance since the architecture of the station is a balanced blend of East and West.

The 72-feet barrel vault... makes it look even more like a railway station in Europe...

Even the back of the building is very European. 

This sign, which was removed years ago, was supposedly to show Malaysia's ownership over the station and the land surrounding it. 

There was once a famous hotel on the second floor of the station that gave the prestigious Raffles Hotel a run for its money. But in typical Malaysian fashion, the hotel had been closed down and is not badly maintained. A suicide also took place there once, sparking another sensational Singaporean Ghost Story. 

It is sad to see another piece of our Malaysian heritage lost to the hands of our southern neighbour. There have been calls, from withing Singapore itself, to maintain this historical icon as it is. But I suppose the Prime Ministers of both nations have a good reason for wanting to continue with this. The station will not be demolished, instead it would be preserved by some Singaporean historical board. 

There is also another railway station in Bukit Timah, Singapore which is still owned by KTMB. Though less popular and less esthetical, lets just hope this one still remains Malaysia since it is situated slightly up north in Singapore. Unlike this one and Tanjong Pagar's at one point, Woodlands is co-owned by both countries.

What I don't understand is why Malaysia could not have removed and relocated the entire station brick by brick to our country. Is it because it might be too expensive? But think about tourism! Wouldn't it be a good investment. Now it will all be too late. The building belongs to Singapore now, and they will definitely do wonders with it. 

I would definitely want to visit this place some day. 

Madam Clara's Visit!

My birthday month was not kind on me... with the passing on of someone very dear to me and all... But not all was bad. My beloved tutor from Gaya came down to Plymouth on an official visit. It was so good to finally meet Madam Clara after almost one whole year!

This was when we had a barbecue somewhere during the end of May last year to celebrate our last few days in Sabah before we all returned home and got ready to leave for UK. Don't really have a picture with Madam Clara. But trust me, she was there with her cute granddaughter and we had lots of fun!

Earlier that year, our class threw her a surprise birthday party. To me, it was one of our most heart-rendering moments together. Her sister had past away earlier that month and she was too sad to remember her own special day. It was our surprise that brought a smile to her face after so many days. She was pleased and it was a truly meaningful day for all of us.

As part of her visit, a few friends and I took her around Plymouth's city center. We shopped at the all the famous places - Drake Circus, Royal Parade... you name it. Madam had a few things she needed to buy back for her family at home.

Thank God we had Pijan and Syafiq with us, who are football fans. They knew which jersey to buy for which football team with the right colour coding at the right price. Qis and the girls helped Madam out with the English tablecloths and baby wear.

And of course, there was me. Always taking pictures all the time! Hehe... For lunch, we had a nice big meal at Nawrooz. Madam was naturally surprised to see the size of the chicken piece they served there. But she definitely enjoyed her meal, especially the soup they serve for starters.

A few days later, we had a little gathering at the guest house where Madam stayed. Dinner that evening was potluck style. I prepared chocolate cake for dessert. There was much dispute on whether I baked it myself or bought if from Asda... and I don't plan to reveal it here.

We definitely had a great time together. It is not always we get to meet like this. We missed Madam and we surely missed each other. It was just like old times...

Since we had agreed that we would take turns to prepare dinner for Madam, it was my turn to cook on her last day in Plymouth. Faiz, Eunice and I cooked her some nice sweet and sour chicken with some Papadoms. They both don't go together, but they surely made a decent meal. Tan and our senior David made some mixed veggie with some light snacks.

Madam surely enjoyed her meal, though I knew she's not the type who goes for second rounds. But it was a pleasant evening though.

Madam also told me about her plans while she was still here in Europe. She had Qis help her plan a trip to Paris and a few other places. After all, she herself was not very sure when she would get this similar opportunity again. She might as well use this chance to travel around.

I did not wake up in time the next morning to send her off as I overslept like a pig. I would surely miss Madam. She is the type of lecturer, or teacher as I would say, who never keeps any ill feelings towards others. She is forever forgiving and kind in her words, not to mention soft-spoken and completely humble despite her position as a college lecturer.

I miss you, Madam............

Balding: A Curse

Alright... so it's not something totally surprising to me. My hair started falling rapidly all the way back when I was  studying for my SPM, when I was seventeen. The floor of my bedroom was white marbled. I would sweep the floor in the afternoon, and by night, the amount of hair that had fallen from my head would be crystal-clear obvious on the floor. Mum was first to notice.

Then there was once when I came home from college for mid-term break. At the airport, Dad swept my hair to the back, revealing a HUGE forehead! And I thought that only happened when I cut my hair short in a crew cut! Once back in National Service camp, my coach played a prank on those in my platoon by putting black ink on everyone's forehead... except mine. He said it would be too obvious in my case since my forehead was HUGE!

Now, it has been a few years. I've tried everything. Growing my hair as long as I can too cover my forehead in a shaggy, Bieber-ish kind of way, but my hair at the front just refused to grow any longer. Right now, I think the hair at the back and the side of my head are 80 to 90 percent longer than the one at the front. They say that if the father of your mother had a receding hairline, there is almost a big possibility that you might inherit that. Late Grandpa had serious balding problems. Not good news. Most of his sons inherited this. Dad used to poke fun at them that they all had airport landing grounds on their heads. Great. Give it a few years time, or at this rate, maybe even months, and your son will have one on his head too. Great job,
Dad.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! I don't wanna be botak!

What a shame. Its funny that I inherited the amount of melanin in my skin from Dad, but not his amazing Will Schuester hair! He has the most curled and healthy fro. But I din't get that from him. Oh, God... maybe He knew I would be such a complain pot that he did this to me. Who's to say I don't deserve it.

So, I've been looking through the internet for options on how to hide my balding head. Most websites suggest that a short hairstyle best suit a huge forehead since it distracts the attention from the balding area to other parts of the face. Short hairstyle? Hmmm... nope... I think I will pass that. I can't possibly rock the mean, macho look ever. Crew cuts, close shaves... not me.

Bangs? Errr... I'd love that. Keeps the youthfulness in any look. But not so sure if I can carry that. It has come to a level where my hairline is forming a sort of M shape. So the only hair that I can afford to pull down to my forehead are the few strands in the middle. Awful... and not to mention pathetic. So that one's out.

I did consider some layering. I mean, there are all types of layered haircuts, at least one must fit me right? But then, most of these styles fit those with long, proper hair. Mine case would be a big risk.

A parting, whether at the side or at the the middle might not be a good idea. The parting might go all the way to the back of my head the way my hair looks these days! That won't do much good in hiding the forehead.

A taper cut might be nice. But I don't really know. I mean, the hair at the front of my head seems to be growing at a much slower rate than any part of my head. The barber would have to be smart to taper the hair at the sides and the back and leave the ones at the top and the front. Might consider that...

A bawl cut seems rebellious, but I could work that out.

A brush cut does not seem much different from a taper or bawl cut.

A pompadour? I have to admit that does look very glamorous... almost too glamorous to maintain on a daily basis. And I really don't know how a barber would help me with this look since my hair at the front is thinner than at the mid and back sections of my head.

At this point, I really don't know what to do with my hair. I really might want to consider a taper cut. But I'm not really sure if my barber can help me do that. I mean... my hair needs to be longer than it is now for it to happen. But then, it is not that short anyway... only at the front of the M shape it has formed!

Fine, let's be honest. Coming to the UK, it is time to get rebellious. The main idea was to grow long hair, maybe perm it and put tonnes of product on it. Go blonde perhaps, not that it fits my skin tone, just for the fun of it.

And how about the idea of going bald completely? Scary, I have to admit it. But it worked wonders with Chris Daughtry. When the guy noticed he was going bald, he completely shaved off his head, to give himself a more aesthetically pleasing look. But one needs the confidence and manliness to pull off a stunt like that, something I believe I lack of. I also don't want to regret it soon and then end up wearing a wig all the time like what Britney did. Gosh...

Or maybe I can just leave my hair as it is. You know, just let nature take its toll on it while I just sit back and watch. But I'm no Prince William. The guys is such a prince charming to the ladies that they don't care about the his balding. He still looks just as charming to them as he ever was.

Now, some have flipped when I told them this. But a shaggy hairstyle, though might inappropriate for some occasions, but works magic at hiding balding. And it definitely works better than bangs. Adrian Grenier, for instance, has a quite large forehead, but he does a neat job at hiding it with his wavy natural hair. I have wavy hair... and though it never falls below my forehead, it does sound like a rock-on idea.

They say that a guy's hair is his crown. It gives you your look. It distracts attention away from your already unattractive face... something that I really use to justify my need for a better hairdo. Anyway, thanks for reading all my grumbling. Bye!

Black Birthday

This year's birthday is most definitely the most mundane of them all. Grandpa was not well and was lying sick in bed. Despite receiving a few offers to hang out together on my special day from a few friends, I had to turn them all down and go out to the city all alone.

I thought that maybe having lunch alone and perhaps watching a movie all by myself might take away all the pain I was feeling. I should have been at home with my family, sharing their grief. But what could I do? God has sent me all the way here for a purpose. That sacrifice had to be made. Still, I so wanted to be my family's side then.

Early in the morning, I had a call from mum. I didn't answer it, because I was temperamental with her for quite some time. Typical attention seeker, I am.  But also, I was still sleepy. So, I didn't bother enquiring why she had called. But as I got ready to leave for the city center, I had this bugging feeling that I should call home and see if everything was alright.

I called dad. The tone of his voice was not casual. But he promised me everything was alright. I was a little offended that he didn't even wish me happy birthday, as the wishes from my family is always most important to me. Call me selfish, but yes - despite everything going on back home, I was still thinking of me, me and me.

Then at the city, after I had treated myself to a nice, sumptuous lunch to get over everything that has been stressing me out, I headed for the cinema. Just as I bought my ticket and was hanging around as I waited for the movie to start, dad called. He told me something that just made my heart stop beating for a second or two.

Grandpa had passed away earlier that day.

I talked to mum. Oh, gosh! How I wish I was there by her side. She could hardly talk. All she could say was to pray for Grandpa. I don't know why. But my heart and mind just blanked out - like a book full of writing being erased thoroughly, word by word. Only, I was not sure if I was consciously holding the eraser or not. My feet just carried me into the cinema, where I watched the movie for an hour and a half.

As I got to the bus to return to campus, the truth just hit me. Grandpa was no more. I would miss his jokes, his laughter, his sarcasm... everything about him. Since coming here, I had hardly spoken to him. Stupid me. Stupid, effed up me. If only I had realized much earlier what was truly important....

I was never Grandpa's closest grandson. I use to get mad at him all the time as I was always the victim of his sarcastic comments. But towards the end of his life, he lived mostly as a different man then when I knew him as a child. His right hand became paralyzed, preventing him for doing most of the work he liked - like traveling on his motorcycle and tending to his farm.

The image of the strong, energetic and youthful Grandpa was almost completely wiped out from  my mind. Instead, there was the somber, sarong-wearing, bearded, lifeless old man that had replaced that. He could hardly walk from one place to another after an accident he encountered when I was seven. I remember walking him around the temple, holding his hand half-heartedly as  he often walked slowly and all I wanted to do was get away and do something esle. But despite noticing my insincerity in helping him walk, Grandpa would still hold on to me with all his might and simply smile it off, also showing his thankfullness by telling me how grateful he was that I'd take him around, and that he was sorry I was such a nunsance to him. Back then, in my heart -  my cold, black, devilish heart, I would just say to myself, "Whatever..."

Back in my room, I just let go. Sobbed all day... thinking of all those times when I could have told Grandpa that I loved him... and that I was sorry I was such a dick to him, while his love for me was genuine and unconditional.

I did not tell anyone about this. I did not need anyone's sympathy. After what I did, I deserve none. I decided to fast for a week. I told friends that a close buddy from my childhood had died, when in reality it was someone more than that.

Later that week, mum got better and she had made peace with Granpa's death. She told me my youngest aunt, who had just gotten married was on her way to Taiping from KL, but did not make it to see Grandpa. But there was that satisfaction in her that he was there for her wedding day. Another uncle from Ipoh also did not make it to see Grandpa as he could not leave his business before letting his partner know. He too, was too late. Mum also mentioned that Grandpa always spoke highly of me to his friends. I was the first of his children and grandchildren to go study abroad. He was very proud of me, and even Grandma often had to remind him that he always told the same story over and over again to the same friend.

Oh... tata...

But then, life goes on. Despite knowing a 'childhood friend' who is very close to my heart had died, a friend of mine had the audacity to tell me to choose between her and another friend of ours whom she had a big fight with. When I told her that I would never take sides as I love both of them equally, she became mad and avoided me for the next few days. Only today, I saw her sobbing dramatically over her phone. I feared the worst, that a similar tragedy had fallen upon her or something. When I text messaged her about it, all she complained  about was me not taking her side and that I had to choose from either one of us. When I said I was not taking sides, she got pissed off and did the most awful and insensitive thing a friend could do... something too horrible that I cannot even mention. Thank God I did not tell her it was my grandfather and not some friend who died, or the pain of her insensitiveness would have been even more unbearable.

But, see? I'm making it all about myself again. I should be mourning for Grandpa, not talking about some insignificant, PMS-stricken self-centered turkey. Whatever... I just wish I could have been there with mum that day.

Today, a close friend lost her grandma and she posted in on Facebook. In the spur of the moment, I told her to stay calm and that since my grandpa had recently left me too, I could relate to her situation. Perhaps some might see it as attention-seeking, but it was a mere accident.

I suppose that's life. You value someone only when  they have left you. But now I know, that I should always respect and love my loved ones while I still have the time, because they might not be around forever.

Aum... Lord please take care of Tata... and place him alongside you and the ones You love... Aum...

PMS? Or Pee Am A**?

How to Know If you have PMS:

The 10 Definitive Signs of PMS are:

1. Everyone around you has an attitude problem.
2. You're adding chocolate chips to your cheese omelet.
3. The dryer has shrunk every last pair of your jeans.
4. Everyone is suddenly agreeing to everything you say.
5. You're using your cellular phone to dial up every bumper sticker that says, 'How's my driving? Call 1 800 ****"**.'
6. Everyone's head looks like an invitation to batting practice.
7. You're convinced there's a God and he's male.
8. You're counting down the days until menopause.
9. You're sure that everyone is scheming to drive you crazy.
10. The ibuprofen bottle is empty and you bought it yesterday.

What PMS REALLY stands for:

TOP 10 THINGS PMS (Really) STANDS FOR

1. Psychotic Mood Shift
2. Permanent Menstrual Syndrome
3. Perpetual Munching Spree
4. People Make Me Sick
5. Provide Me with Sweets
6. Pardon My Sobbing
7. Pimples May Surface
8. Pissy Mood Syndrome
9. Plainly Men Suck
10. Who Cares? I'm not in the mood to play this anymore!

Birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you very much to my buddies here at campus for making my birthday week so special.

What made is most special were the very special gifts I received from my friends...

This one came from my good friend Mira. Poor her... said she doesn't know how to cook so she gave me the cutest Sicilian lemon and ricotta cheesecake. They look tasty I have to admit. I'm yet to eat them as I'm being vegetarian for a week or so. But having something as tempting as this in the fridge surely can menggoda iman  even though I'm so pious. Oops! Joke, people! Joke! Don't go all moral police on me...

Along with the cake came a really special note, that forced me to grin right up to my ears. Naughty naughty Cik Mira...

At first look, it may seem like a sweet, cute note. But there is a subtle message of sarcasm there. Hehe... You see, back in our foundation year in Sabah, I held the record of being one of the few who frequently flew home to Peninsular Malaysia whenever there was a one week break. Thus, the sentence: "Good luck surviving here this summer!" as I would be here while most of us would be flying home.

Naughty little Cik Mira. Hahaha... But thanks for the lovely cake!

Then, there was a note for me at the porter's lodge on campus that I had a parcel from Malaysia that required my signature. Wow! Must have been something back. And I was not wrong.

My dad always addresses whatever letter or parcel to me with 'Mr' before my name. Pa! Over here I'm Mr. Manogaran! That's what my Student Ambassador payslip and bank statements refer to me as!

And the fairly large parcel was full of... wait for it... FOOD!!!!!!!!! There was my favourite 3 in 1 Milo sachets. Also some Adabi and Maggi fried rice flavour mix packets. These kind of stuff is essential for people like me who stink at cooking. Also there were some ready-made papadam packets and other instant cooking essentials that I really need to survive among other things.

Most important, there was a pack of holy ashes for me to put on after prayer -  a gentle reminder from my folks to never forget my responsibility to the Almighty. Hehehe... another subtle sarcastic statement there - but for my own good. Forgivable.

And along with the papa bear sized parcel was a papa bear sized birthday card:

Looks small here, I know. But its quite big.

This one must be from my little brother Devendran. He is the fatty of the family. But his handwriting sure has changed. Or it could be a deliberate attempt to look posh with the italic handwriting. ;P

This one is from my little sister, Deeviya. She's the skinny one of the three of us! Clearly she tried to replicate the handwriting of her small anneh (or aney, whichever spelling... see! They can't even agree on that!) =P

Anney means big bro, by the way.

This one's from mum, who I must admit I have been pretty mean with by not talking to for some time in order for attention. Yes, I know. I'm mostly shy and quiet (don't say weekkk!!!!) but I am an attention seeker too!

This one's from dad... and everyone has signed it. Awwwwwwww.... miss you guys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now I'm so touched I don't have the heart to be temperamental anymore... at least for now! Hehehehe...

Mr. Paddington insisted he posed with the card.

Oh! And I got this lovely notebook from Cik Hana, another good friend of mine. But it was the note inside that really made my day:

It's so beautiful to have a friend of a different faith pray for your well-being here and hereafter. It proves that despite belonging to different beliefs, we can still pray to the same Lord for the happiness of our friends. Makes me feel proud to be a Malaysian. Love you, Hana! Fine, enough of the nerdy, patriotic talk. 

Now this next card is... I don't know. Indescribable. The moment I took it out of its strikingly yellow envelope, I immediately burst into laughter. I mean... just look at it! 

It's from my BFF Cik Nadiah Sahum, or recently more glamorously known as Naddy. What was she thinking when she bought it? It really made my day. Could not stop laughing! I mean... she is always up to something naughty. But this time, she has completely outdone herself. Big time! Girl, you rock!

And if you thought the front was outrageously childish, check out the back! So bluntly stated! And yet she got it for me! What the... "Nad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I literally yelled out her name in laughter when I saw this...

Then of course, there was the thank you message for being her friend, wishing me happy birthday, hoping I would grow more macho and matured (as if that will ever happen ;P)... and notice she signed as 'Nad yang comel'.

Had it not be signed that way, I seriously would have doubted that it came from her. Typical Naddy...

This one, also from a good buddy AND granny, interestingly with a frog, has a deep metaphorical meaning to it. We had discussed earlier about a frog jumping out of a well, and that having some deeper meaning to it, well the Granny has compared me to that. How sweet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And on the same day, I got this from another good friend, Cik Aisyah Afifah. It was as if she was yelling to me: "You're 21!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Means can vote, can do this, do that... tanda matang as she says...

And also it came with a cute card...

And honestly, I'm quite sure this drawing has some metaphorical meaning to it. But I don't quite get it. Is it... Kangga like balloons, balls, smileys, candies, stars... and all that? Hmmm.... maybe....

And yes Cik Aisyah... we will always be around for each other...God bless...