Suarakami: crazy chick who plays the bass

Suarakami is where we feature you, young Malaysians, and let you answer silly questions. This week, staff writer Syarifah Hadli talks to Pana from Universiti Putra Malaysia. Check her out!

1. What’s the weirdest thing you find about Malaysians?

I don’t know… I’m also a Malaysian…and I’m not weird… Hehe

Sex and the people of the city

By Syarifah Hadli

It was one of those normal nights where I happily surfing the net and at the same time busy managing my personal blog when all of the sudden an uncivilized person, a man, I believe, left me a very disturbing and petty sexist slur. I was taken aback by it. It’s not as if I am not used to dirty words or whatsoever. But the fact that I have left this childish name-calling game years ago about the same time I left my pre-puberty days, made me feel like soo old fashioned when an incredibly anonymous man came in and posted a sexist slur that includes the female private part. Anyways, you are not really anonymous lah Mr Babisayang (as he named himself and no I didn’t make this up). I know you’re from some ceruk in Puchong, Selangor. 60.48.186.# is your IP address and (smirk) guna dial-up ke bang? Pathethic. Thank you technology. Anyways, I gotta thank him for being childish because if he didn’t, I will still be scratching my head right now, wondering what else to write for kasikampus.

When a columnist becomes a paranoid

By Syarifah Hadli

While reading a column published in a daily Malay newspaper last Thursday, my mind marveled for quite some time before I was able to finish reading up the whole column. I don’t know who the *fish* wrote that column and one word that best describes that specific column is: shallow.

The column is mainly about the remarks or the observation that the columnist had based on this year’s Chinese New Year advertisement. If I get to be invisible for a day, I would really like to go to this columnist’s house, mess with her coffee maker, throw away her entire wardrobe and pee on her laptop or PC, whichever she use to write, just so that she won’t write anymore. Oh, plus, I would really love to smack her on her head.

The oily man

By Syarifah Hadli

After writing a piece that provoked much attention from various people, I have decided to write about more simple things in life. Well, most of my writings are based on that. Right? Now, how many of us have heard the orang minyak story? I don’t know about it until a good friend of mine, Yee Wen sent me a message yesterday that pretty much serve as a warning to us girls about the rape cases that have been lingering around campus for the past week, without anybody knowing the validity of the story itself.

I mean, orang minyak? I am not being arrogant, but I am skeptical. I mean, if there’s anyone to be blame for the so-called rape cases that is said happening around the campus, orang minyak shouldn’t be blame.

Ignorance is bliss?

By Syarifah Hadli

 

Is it true that youth today are being neglectful towards their surroundings? The current situation that revolves around them, the issues brought up by either the public or the government, the rights that has been violated, the struggle of certain class of the society—all of these important occurring. Do they even give a damn?

Rocking our closet

By Syarifah Hadli

Independent scene is encompassing an evolution. A new breed of fashion conscious tee makers is making the headlines in the independent scene, predominantly in KL. Although we in Penang might not feel the impact that these young, talented and promising batch of people have towards the youth in KL, but soon, you too will be wearing their hand-painted or stenciled shirt in no time. KL has witnessed the growth of a bunch of creative heads that are determined to change the way Malaysian youth dress. This blooming phenomenon has taken KL by storm and the most apparent fact that can be seen by this particular phenomenon is the healthy involvement of youth.

Through my observation for the past 6 months, I knew that this new T-Shirt craze is not dying anytime sooner. The fact that the designs are different and more Malaysianized contributes to the highly accepted stencil rage. Also, through my small-scaled research, I found out that this rage started when a bunch of kids gets tired of wearing the same, overpriced shirt that they bought at the same place and end up wearing the same shirt as their friend does. So what do they do? They create their own shirt of course. They came out with the designs, and voila! A t-shirt that represents what they think is produced. So they wear it everyday, and people noticed. And when there’s a demand, there will be a supply. This is a simple economic theory. So, long story cut short, some kids finds it (T-shirt designing) as an alluring and profitable rabbit hole to jump into. So that’s how they get into the business.

Oh, holiday!

By Syarifah Hadli

Yes. It’s the season to be jolly, again. The sales are back. The frantic Hari Raya songs is in the air, in every mall you stepped in. I bet you are reading this from your home. You lucky, lucky people. I am still here in USM. Typing this silly posting, for your pleasure. Well, actually, not really. It’s only if you find reading through my writing is pure bliss, which I doubt.

Lifestyle of the not-so-rich-and-famous

By Syarifah Hadli

“Broooooooooooke!!!” I screamed as I opened my wallet, which is filled with receipts in the first place anyways. The only Ringgit bills that were left in my wallet were the bills with number 1 stamped on it. RM1 times 4. And that makes RM4. At this point, my not-so-beautiful-moment in my life, I look back and tried to track back where the heck does my Ringgits flow into.

Opening of the new semester: Cool. Everyone seems gleaming with happiness. I can see people dancing once the ATM machine heaved out their PTPTN money. Lining up for an hour ahead of what it appear as, hundreds of other PTPTN monger, seems like nothing because they know what’s in store for them. Because once they have their hands on the sweet smelling bills, they high up above the sky, dancing with the birds, stomping on clouds. Okay, I’m exaggerating. But don’t you just feel like dancing once your bank account is loaded with taxpayers’ money? I don’t know about you but it sounds excellent to me!

History can be so cool

By Syarifah Hadli

I was late again. At times like this, I wish I can operate TB 2828 and stop relying on others to bring me around in their car. I hate waiting and this is what I’ve been doing for the past one month. Waiting. And waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting. So, I was walking faster than everyone else. I knew I missed it, I missed the opening of the Freedom Film Fest. Darn. I can’t blame out chauffeur for the day, can I? Anyways it’s not my car, so I can’t bitch. Period.

I arrived with a wide grin but my Julia-Roberts-smile is greeted with cold stares from some of the fest organisers. One of them even eye-f***ed me. I was like, whatever maaan! Shouldn’t these people be welcoming us instead of making us feel like we were so, err, unwelcomed. F*** ‘em. Still grinning widely, I went to the counter and to our surprise (duh), it was full house. What did we expect being 40 minutes late?

Reasoning the reason

By Syarifah Hadli

To know that your writing will be the first to be published here is nerve-wracking. And that is exactly how I felt throughout the course of writing this up. I was supposed to write about our campus or anything that our campus can relate to. Gosh. There are so many things to write about, but I cannot, for some reason, seem to find one.

Screw it! I’m going to write anything that I want to. So here goes nothing.

How many people are in university for the right reasons? I know I’m not. The sole reason I’m here in Universiti Sains Malaysia is because I hated to be asked about my status of education every time my relatives came for a Hari Raya visit. I will shy away from them because they are so annoying, flashing their sons and daughters’ status of education to every single person in the room. I mean, who cares if their daughter is reading law in Universiti Malaya? I know I don’t. I used to be a diploma student in a small, insignificant college in Bangi doing the most underrated subject (Business) of all and for the longest three years in my life, I had to face my relatives, and answer their silly questions, which they tend to repeat every single year.