mostly earnest

Tag: malaysia

  • Leaving MY

    The question I get asked a lot lately is how do I feel about leaving Malaysia. The problem with the question is that it assumes I have an equal choice in the matter.

    In the day to day, the reasons for leaving are not obvious. We are a dual-income household living in a bougie part of town, we can afford food deliveries, buy nice things and go on holidays. We have good jobs and derive great fulfilment from the work we do. We have a tight group of friends — people we really enjoy spending time with — and also a strong sense of community. We are considered by all accounts, quite comfortable.

    Yet what people don’t see is the heightened anxiety of continuously living in a country that is run by a fascist, bigoted, police-state government. The fear that I am only one police roadblock away from harassment. The fear that the medical privilege I depend on to survive would suddenly be clamped down. The fear that at any moment we could be separated because her freedom of movement is tied to her employment. The fear that we will be denied ‘next of kin’ privileges because our union is unrecognised. The fear that any liberties we might enjoy now is short-lived and highly dependant on who is in power.

    If there is any chance for us to live a more dignified life not dictated by the whims and fancies of people in uniform, should we not take it? If it means I get to live my truth and have the state recognise my existence and our love, shouldn’t we go? Can I really say I don’t want to leave if my survival, our happiness, and our lives depended on it?

    The truth is I want to leave but I wish I didn’t have to.

  • Entrepreneurship

    In the span of 6 years in barbering, I’ve ended two business partnerships.

    Not from failing or falling out but for reasons outside of my control.

    My first setup, The Burrow, was a tiny space I rented from a lifestyle-cafe that wanted a barbershop to be part of their brand.

    Everything was already straighten out – the fixtures, the chairs, the decor – all I had to do was show up. Plug and play.

    I was impressed by the quality of the interior even though I myself wouldn’t have gone with a classic design. It felt like an imitation of decade old barbershops that continue to exist bringing nothing fresh to the scene.

    The design they’ve chosen resembled a posh British barbershop with wooden fittings, honeycomb floor tiles, shiny leather chairs, and a sink in front of the mirror for the ease of hair washing.

    Despite my misgivings about the design, it was a good deal.

    Managing a new shop on my own in a completely new postcode was not without its challenges especially after moving out of a township I was based in for a year prior.

    New clients were hard to come by because nobody knew that there we were on the first floor of the building we were in let alone a barbershop inside the cafe.

    Eventually with the help of social media, a timeout article, and good ol reliable word of mouth, the business took off.

    Unfortunately for the cafe, there wasn’t enough foot traffic to trickle to them. Most of my clientele were regulars and the way I operated my business was to serve one client at a time.

    After a while, the cafe business was struggling to cover their losses and eventually decided to call it quits.

    I had no choice but to also leave as it was impossible to take over such a huge space alone while paying rent at 3x what I was paying for a two-chair setup.

    The choice then was to either start from scratch in a neighbourhood nearby or to go and join my ex-colleague in another township.

    It was in mid-2019 when I chose the latter because at the time Nine and I were planning to leave Malaysia the very next year so it wouldn’t make sense to pour more money into setting up a new premise.

    But I didn’t want to just join Others TA without some form of ownership so I bought some shares and I ran it together with my ex-colleague.

    We had a tremendous run. Made enough in two years to enjoy some dividends.

    Even with the pandemic and all its lockdown iterations, we managed to come out alive.

    There was talk of dissolving but it never came to that.

    And now after 3 years, Nine and I are ready to leave Malaysia so once again I have to close the doors on another business venture.

    Most people close from the financial burden that comes with operating a brick and mortar business so I feel really lucky to be doing so by choice – unrelated to the health of the business.

    I’m not much of a business person as in I don’t think I necessarily have the eye for it. And it’s not like I am raking it in either with the barber business but I’m really proud of what I’ve achieved.

    The fact that I am not crippled with debt or lost my investments is a lot more than most people can say for an entrepreneur.

  • Infestation

    I saw more rats in the span of half an hour than I had my entire life.

    Big ones. Tiny ones. Mama, papa and all their next of kin.

    Grandma had been co-living with rodents for the past couple of months before her daughters came home to deal with it.

    One night she woke up to something moving on her chest.

    She couldn’t see what it was because it was dark but she flicked whatever it was with the back of her hand and heard a splat on the floor.

    She turned on the light and saw that it was a baby rat.

    My aunt said the rats had been chewing the gas pipes and that it was a miracle the house had not explode especially because grandma uses matches to light the stove.

    We’ve been trying to convince her into a care home but she is steadfast in her decision that it is still not time yet.

    She argues that she is still able to walk but what good are feet if your lungs are constantly breathing in fumes of rat faecal matter.

  • Act Of Resistance

    There was cake, dancing and a lot of alcohol. I had a splitting headache by the end of it (no more tequila for me) but it was truly one of the best nights I’ve had. To be celebrated, accepted, and loved by some of the kindest most giving people I’ve had the pleasure of calling friends is to feel incredibly seen. And what is being seen if not to feel like there is also a place in this world for people like us.

  • Progress

    It’s only been three months.

    But today, for the first time since I started hiking, I trusted the ground where my feet landed.


  • Snide Salad

    As she stretched out to retrieve my plate, the server noticed untouched food in the corner and asked “Why didn’t you finish your vegetables?”

    Caught off guard, I fumbled and said, “I don’t like them,” which was not entirely true. I didn’t like these particular ones but I was too embarrassed to admit it for fear I might offend her.  

    “But you ordered the vegetarian meal,” she replied, feigning horror.

    I’ve never known meat eaters to have the same standards imposed on them. Someone who enjoys chicken may not necessarily be open to pork. It’s hardly news that vegetarians don’t enjoy all vegetables equally. But of course I didn’t say that. Instead I said, “I ordered this dish for the main event, not the sides.” 

    Still unsatisfied, she replied, “Do you know how many people are starving in this world?”

    I felt a synchrony of raised eyebrows around the table, the moment she finished the question. 

    I am aware that millions go to bed hungry. But I am equally aware that the main causes of world hunger are primarily poverty, inequity, and institutional failures. In fact, thanks to centuries of food innovation and agricultural science, the world we live in today is actually capable of feeding every person that lives on the planet. Whether an individual chooses to finish their side salad has no bearing on these facts. 

    If an establishment is concerned about wastage (which is valid) then maybe it would serve to make better, more thoughtful, innovative side salads. Otherwise, it just feels like an excuse to fill the plate. 

    But again, I did not say this. Someone interrupted before I got a chance to respond and I was honestly relieved I didn’t have to deliver Sunday sermon. 

  • Test, Test, One Two Live

    We’ve been looking to move out ever since our housemate got himself a girlfriend. I thought it best we give them some privacy even though it never seemed like they needed it on account of how frequent we HEAR them.

    We decided to test-live at a friend’s place to see if this is where we want to move to next. She doesn’t intend to live in KL anymore and is willing to give up her apartment if we so wanted.

    On the drive in, I passed huge bungalows, some of which looked to me like spaceships. The roads leading to the apartment were narrow and windy. Often times I would be caught off-guard by the dog-walkers and joggers that suddenly appear on my path. Catching their eye, I felt a little like an imposter as if they could tell I didn’t have the social cachet to be in these parts of town.

    But whatever I was feeling before quickly vanished as soon as we arrived. Something about the apartment preexisting the unsavoury luxury around felt like we had historical street cred to be there.

    Our parking spot was narrow but sheltered and close to the building we’re staying at. I climbed three flights of stairs before we reached our friend’s unit. The first thing I noticed was the bright crimson paint on the door. Coloured doors were something I’ve seen only in Europe. When I first arrived in London, I was so enamoured by them, I took photos of these doors and came home with nothing to show for about my trip except a bunch of random stranger’s doors.

    I was immediately taken by the time-stuck of this place. The owner kept most of the original fittings so it felt as if we’ve been transported to a Spanish holiday resort in the 90s. The sink looked out — something you no longer find in modern houses — into a lush, green scape with the city skyline in the distance. I loved the way the light poured in from the kitchen windows illuminating the counters. For a one-bedroom apartment, it felt spacious.

    I took a quick stroll around the rest of the apartment and announced that I was never leaving here.

    It’s my last day here and I am not ready to leave. It’s only been three days but I’ve grown attached. I still haven’t had the opportunity to sit at the balcony to enjoy the morning breeze or take the shortcut to get to the mall next to the building or run around the neighbourhood.

    All I had time for was the pool and even though a bird shat on my head while I was getting ready to go into the water, Nine said it was good luck and probably a sign that something incredible will happen soon. Fingers crossed that it’s calling this place home.