Wednesday, May 30, 2007

More than meets the eye

The disadvantage of enjoying a long weekend or any break is the fact that you get holiday-withdrawal symptoms when you're back at work. It is just that much more difficult to get up and face the day, knowing that you will be greeted by the tedium of an endless array of activities that make you wonder if slapping someone silly will be deemed ethically acceptable.

Last weekend was good. Started off with a magnificient dinner at Apartment, courtesy of Reem. Had actually gone back to Newcastle a little earlier than usual so that I'd be able to meet her man. It was a fun and comfortable evening (with us catching up with Jo, Paul and Laura as well), and it was nice to be able to get along well with Mr Banker.

Spent the next evening with Reem as well. This time, we caught World's End, the 3rd installment of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. There have been lots of negative reviews about it, especially with regards to the length of the movie (almost 3 hours), but methinks it was a enjoyable movie and like the ride that the movie is based on, one should just not think and enjoy the experience. The monkey was awfully cute. And I know Sweetie will be drooling over Ollie. It's a pity the female lead isn't someone that'd make me drool as well.

Oh, and one of the best bits of the night was the Transformers trailer!

Other than that, it was a weekend of attempting to help my buddies with their final preparations, tasting one of the blandest tom yams ever, wondering what would've happened if the monkey threw poo at Sweetie instead of her friend, and arranging (and catelogueing) my comic collection into organised piles of boxes. Sad, but necessary.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Thoughts

There are 3 things that made me go What-the-fuck? over the past week.

Firstly, our beloved PM and the Singaporean PM decided to go on a little getaway in Langkawi, which according to official sources was just an eye-to-eye to discuss issues that are of bilateral importance. One weekend later, a joint ministerial committee from both countries is established to oversee the development of the Iskandar economic region that is being developed in Johor.

Question 1 : If it was just an eye-to-eye between ministers, shouldn't more longstanding issues between the country e.g. the cost of water and issues regarding land ownership be solved first?

Question 2 : If nothing was planned, why the hell did they come up with the decision to establish a committee that will, in essence, control the policies of the region without first digging deeper into the practicalities and consequences of such an action?

Question 3 : Why on earth have they given Singapore a controlling stake in a region of our own when the tenders for development etc. were meant to be offered internationally? Do we need a foreign country to handle our development plans? No conflict of interest ah?

Question 4 : Why have they slowly dismantled the preparations laid earlier by Tun M to develop Johor as a competitor to Singapore, only to see new projects being introduced that are not only less potent to Singapore, but seem to be dictated by the island-state as well.

Secondly, the media circus around , the little girl who went missing recently. Her face has been all over the newspapers and now her parents are being flown in a private jet by Sir Philip Green to meet the pope.

My heart goes out to the parents and the little kid, but a little perspective please? There are so many other children and worthy causes that could do with similar media attention and support from billionaires and the powers-that-be. Millions of kids are either dying or go missing around the world everyday and what is being done about that? Placing flowers and wreaths all around might make you feel good about yourself, but it doesn't do anything to make the world a better place.

Thirdly, the Parti Keadilan Rakyat elections. Where good old Anwar played the crowd as usual to probably find out who his allies are, before pulling out in the last minute. And now he's appointed 'de facto leader' whilst his wife is the president. What's the point of appointing a president then? Whilst there might be arguments re. the circumstances surrouding his original court sentence that has made it impossible for him to run for a political post, one cannot pick and choose the bit of law that suits him/her the most. All or nothing.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Bahasa

I speak funny.

In school, I'd have a weird accent whenever I got into public-speaking mode. It was something that came on naturally, and it wasn't a put-on gwailo accent or anything like that. I don't quite know where it came from; probably a mixture of the english spoken at home along with the telly shows that influenced my speech (the X-Files maybe?). Or maybe it was just me talking clearly for once without mumbling away my words.

It has continued 'till today; some folks can't place my accent. And combined with my rojak looks, I get the oddest guesses from folks; the latest is that of me being an Israeli.

So you can only imagine how 'wonderfully'-sounding my Malay is.

When I enrolled into primary school, I had only learnt a very rudimentary level of Malay. As in I was hardly able to hold a conversation in it. By the end of high school, I was on the Malay debate team and was routinely scoring the necessary marks to ensure that my Malay teachers didn't doubt that I was still Melayu.

My spoken Malay was still an oddity though. Despite being able to think in Malay, the words that came out appeared hessitant at times, and too formal. Which is not surprising when one thinks about it as my entire education on the language was from classes in school. No bahasa pasar for me. Naturally, that (unfortunately) made me stand out among the Malays in school - I was different and never quite fitted in. Indeed, my best friends were those who conversed primarily in English. Attempts to mingle with the Malay-speaking crowd ended (more often than not) in my Malay being laughed at.

Things didn't change much in college. In fact, they got worse. I had purposely stopped myself from getting enrolled into a Malay-dominated boarding school, and there I was in a Malay-dominated pre-university college. And as expected, I never felt that I belonged to the group that I was with. And they never really accepted me either; I was too different in a variety of ways (of course there are exceptions to the rule, this does not include Sweetie and the number of best friends that I became close with in college).

It used to hurt when the words that spouted out of your mouth were subject to ridicule, even when they were impeccable in grammar and syntax. I used to be furious whenever someone made some comment about my malay and the same thought raced through my mind again and again - you're butchering your language and yet you laugh at me? You can't string a proper sentence in English and you mock me? Didn't say those things out loud though - some people are able to say things about others, but are unable to accept deeper scrutiny of themselves. They would've been horrified and thought me as an arrogant bastard if I had said those words.

And one day, I realised I didn't care anymore.

I don't mind laughing at myself and I don't mind my friends laughing at me (as we did a couple of weeks back when I was the chairperson for a meeting that was supposed to be in Malay - disastrous!). It's different when it's said by someone who doesn't know you though, or means it with malice. And it is this sort of individuals that I have learnt to ignore. They have no bearing on my life, and as for their comments, I can only quote from Gone With The Wind - frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.

That probably explains my habit of not having that many friends, but a few really close ones. People that I consider friends are those that I'd be willing to do almost anything for (even stuff I wouldn't normally do like chairing a political meeting held in Malay!), and people that actually mean something to me. I can do superficial, but I tire of it at times.

And the reason I tell this little story is because a friend of mine is having trouble settling in with some people for similar reasons, and she's naturally upset that a barrier has appeared when there were none before. Language is such a tricky subject isn't it? You just need to read a few of Chomsky's works to find out just ingrained it is within our psyche when using it to go about our daily lives.

But I digress - this is just a show of support to her, that things will get better and for her to not get too upset and distressed with herself. You're different - so what? Embrace yourself and if the people around refuses to look beyond the superficial and would rather be judgemental without getting to know you, then it's their loss.

Celebrate.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Penat

The last time I sat for a written examination (not including the MCQs and stuff that one has to sit in courses such as the ATLS) was the data interpretation paper of my finals. I remember coming out in a daze, and being uncharacteristically quiet afterwards. So much so that poor Reem and Joanne had to spend the entire lunch consoling me and telling me that all's not lost.

I ended up scoring higher marks in that paper than I did in my practicals, which is nothing short of a minor miracle. Naturally, I had to withstand Reem and Jo's good-natured ribbing but I wasn't complaining. Far from it! (which reminds me, congrats again Reem!).

Part 1 of the MRCP was different though. I actually felt nauseous towards the end of the first paper. Names of cell receptors and the likes of which I had never heard of before, crammed my little cranium. I was almost disgusted with myself by the end of it and if it wasn't for the fact that paper 2 was more clinical-based (which is my stronger field), I'd have given up halfway. I don't expect to pass; but I only have myself to blame. 2 weeks of proper studying (and not even PROPER proper studying) as compared to the recommended 3 months is no way to prepare for a specialty exam.

I must admit to being rather tired and jaded by the time I sat for the exam. The whole mixture of having to work for the ATLS and the MRCP, starting a new job and getting fucked up the arse by MTAS is turning me into a tired old young man. One can't help but want to kick back and relax, instead of worrying about the future and all that entails for Sweetie and myself. After all, the whole point of sitting the exams in May instead of January was so that job applications wouldn't interfere with preparation. As fate would have it, the powers that be have been blessed with remarkable gifts of incompetence which they use freely for the glorious benefit of all.

CT & Yus had to listen to me whine about these things for a good hour over some lovely Haagen-Dasz, and they were even kind enough to hold a mock interview for me the night before my interview. The interview itself was ok, bordering on good. But I don't think I stood out as being particularly outstanding, and in a crowded field of applicants where thousands are applying for hundreds of jobs, I don't think they'd jump to pick a non-EU citizen as one of their first choices.

Ended up spending about fifty quid buying novels and comics to read. On-call today has been busy at times, but my free time has been spent devouring new reading materials that have no pretense of academia. I tried watching the Man Utd-Chealsea FA Cup Final, but the game would go down in history as one that made cricket look exciting.

Things should be more relaxing over the next few days though. The big obstacles have been hurdled, and I know I did well in at least one. There's a bank holiday weekend coming up and fantasy worlds to get lost in. Oh, and bday present hunting for the special one.

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Hat off

Read this.

Congrats to the couple - whilst many women might mourn the end of Malaysia's most eligible bachelor's days of being a single man, I hope his wife-to-be not only brings him happiness, but helps him continue fighting the good fight.

Friday, May 11, 2007

Apostasy

Mr P Marimuthu and his 7 children were recently separated from his wife by the Islamic Department of Selangor. The rationale behind this move was that the life she was living was a lie – she’s officially registered as a Muslim, but has been a practising Hindu for as long as she remembers. This is a big no-no for the religious authorities, as any move to leave (or be seen to leave) Islam is tantamount to insulting the religion and is illegal in Malaysia. Thus, she has been removed for ‘rehab’, and in a move made by herself to ensure that her husband and children do not get tangled up in a legal web, she has agreed to cut all contacts with them while she ‘re-embraces’ Islam.

My heart goes out for the poor lady and her family.

One of the basic fundamentals of human rights is the ability to choose the God that you worship (or to choose not to believe in anything if that is your leaning), and I stand firm in the believe that no coercion should ever be put in place with regards to this matter. After all, if you force someone to practice a particular religion, how is that any different from being a communist (the one enemy that all religions seem to agree upon, when they are not targeting each other), albeit a right-wing communist (yes, I know that statement almost doesn’t make sense)?

In primary school, I was taught that apostasy is punishable by death in Islam. As with most other topics of the day, we just nodded our heads and didn’t think too much about it. After all, life was a heck of a lot simpler then. Fast forward a few years, and I come across situations that just don’t sit right with my conscience, and of course, I find out that there are modern-day ulamaks who question the validity of capital punishment for apostasy, as nothing is mentioned about it in the Quran and the belief is based mostly on the Hadith.

Many staunch Muslims (and Christians for that matter) that I speak to are concerned about 2 things – getting to heaven and ensuring that their religion survives the ‘onslaught’ of other religions (occasionally they also try their darnest to be decent human beings). Therefore, berdakwah or missionary work is taken seriously, along with close monitoring of any moves to leave the religion – better to nip things in the bud before the exodus begins en masse. It’s interesting to watch the way the 2 big religions respond to the crisis that is modernity – the Christians are reforming themselves and becoming too liberal, and the Muslims are taking the other road and becoming more fundamentalistic (speaking in general terms, of course).

Being in Malaysia, you always hear stories about how this group or another is out to convert Muslims. And there is always that fear that the Malays will lose out in the end so everything must be done to protect the status quo. And that pretty much sums up the 2 main problems of Islam in Malaysia (in my humble opinion).

Firstly, that they’re reactionary as opposed to being proactive – would it not be more prudent to investigate the reason behind someone wanting to convert for example and seek to implement counselling sessions or provide psychosocial support at that stage? Why wasn't his/her faith strong in the first place? Nobody converts for fun, especially in a Muslim-dominated society.

And secondly, Islam is politicised and frequently mixed up with Malay ethnic supremacy. Case in point – the recent controversy over the government not allowing a Chinese mosque to be built when you have mosques of Malay and Indian heritage. And if everyone is truly so keen on implementing Islamic changes, then shouldn’t we be looking at the bigger picture? For example, corruption or breaking the trust placed upon you are big-time-punishable-by-the-fires-of-hell kinda sins; perhaps life would be better if more time and effort was spent on placing corrupted politicians behind bars instead of that 18-year-old kid who just happened to have been holding his gf’s hand at the wrong place and at the wrong time.

But when the religious department comes across someone like Mrs Marimuthu, they probably wet themselves. An elderly lady of the lowest socio-economic status who barely makes enough to keep her family hungry. Do they offer to help the family and ease their burden? Do they provide an education for the children or at least ensure that their healthcare is seen to thoroughly? After all, acts of kindness might help convince them about the greatness of Islam (as the Christian missionaries are doing so successfully in Africa). Of course not. In a move that says a big ‘fuck you’ to all previous incidences of Muslim kindness and generosity, they move and break the family up without so much as a salam.

And this lady is supposed to repent and embrace Islam and live the life of a pious, reformed lady? What’s the point of making her face the Kaabah five times a day if her heart and soul is not into it and for all intents and purposes, she’ll be having thoughts of her family during every single waking hour? Why on earth would anyone want to be a Muslim if this is the way they treat their fellow human beings? This is the exact opposite of dakwah.

The Islam that I know and gradually fell in love with has nothing to do with such instances. It does not advocate suicide bombing. It does not teach you to break a family up at the expanse of all else . It does not judge you by colour or creed. It preaches tolerance. It encourages the pursuit of knowledge, the development of logical thought. It provides freedom of choice and above all it celebrates the love of/for humanity.

Is this what we’re seeing in this day and age?

For a good read on apostasy in Islam, read this entry.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

doom da da di da di

The first time I came across Mika's Grace Kelly, I wasn't too impressed. Here's just another guy with a falsetto who's bound to appeal to the fairer sex with a can't-go-wrong mixture of cheesy pop tunes and curly hair (or so I've been told).

Next thing I knew, I was humming the doom-da-da-di-da-di bit from his next release. So I decided to take a closer look at his music and must admit that I'm suitably impressed with some of his songs. I especially like the way he (or his producers) mixes the vocals to slowly build up his songs to an almost symphony-like finish. The one song I'd recommend listening to is Happy Ending. Brilliant stuff.

Another song that's been on continuous play in the recesses of my mind is Manic Street's Your Love is Not Enough, featuring the lovely voice of Nina Persson (of The Cardigans fame). Provides a good break whenever I sit back and decide that there's no way on earth that I'll be able to memorise all the side-effects of what seems like all the drugs that've been discovered since some bright chap decided to use the bark of the willow tree to cure headaches.

I'm actually considering buying tickets for one of the legends of pop, Mr Falsetto himself - Prince. Guess I'll see how I feel in the morning. The only bands that I'd definitely join the proverbial overnight queueing for are System of a Down and The Smashing Pumpkins. It's ironic that the latter broke up when I arrived into the UK and have regrouped as I'm about to ?leave it. Figures.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Dah malas dah

The 5 stages of grief can be used to describe my various reactions to the disaster that is MTAS.

Denial (They can't be THAT stupid, can they?)
Anger (They did WHAT? Those stupid, stupid motherfuckers...)
Bargaining (Ok, ok...if they only sort this one last thing out, I will keep quiet and stop cursing their existence and the fact that their IQ is slightly higher than their age)
Depression (What's the point? The stupid idiots don't care about us anyway)
Acceptance (Yes, they really can be THAT stupid)

In Nirvana's Rape Me, Kurt Cobain writes in support of women and against the violence toward them. In the song, a guy rapes a girl. Guy ends up in jail and is raped himself. Poetic justice, if you will. There is also the story that the song was 'dedicated' to the media; venting his personal feelings toward them. It is in this vein that I dedicate the song to MTAS.

Rape me
Rape me, my friend
Rape me
Rape me again
I'm not the only one, Ah [4x]
Hate me
Do it and do it again
Waste me
Rape me, my friend
I'm not the only one, Ah [4x]
My favorite inside source
I'll kiss your open sores
I appreciate your concern
You're gonna stink and burn
Rape me
Rape me, my friend
Rape me
Rape me, again
I'm not the only one, Ah [4x]

Friday, May 04, 2007

An Ode

I have always been a fan of fairy tales.

I'm not sure why, but it must be the little kid in me who doesn't want to grow up and thinks that there is a parallel universe where wishes can be made to come true and you can conjure things up with the muttering of a few spells. But then again my favourite tales are those with a healthy dose of realism in them - the original tales had elements of violence and sex before they were numbed down for the appetite of children.

Some of my earliest childhood memories consist of my parents reading such tales to me. And as a child, my interests ranged from the Slavic Baba Yaga to Enid Blyton’s adventures of Jo, Bessie & Fanny in the Enchanted Wood to Aesop’s Greek tales of morality.

I can’t say things changed much during my teenage years, especially with the blurring of the boundaries between fairy tales and the genre of fantasy. This included comics, the Lone Wolf gamebooks (in which I worked so hard to gain the level of Kai Supreme Master), to more obscure stories of Odin and Loki and other fantastical tales that kept me going during those boring lessons in school (which coincided with my period of Clancy, Ludlum, Grisham and le Carre among others). Even the extended essay for my International Baccalaureate was about fairy tales in modern literature.

Yes, I am quite the geek at times.

It comes as no surprise then that some of my favourite works have elements of fairy tales ingrained within it – Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman, Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Bill Willingham’s Fables, Guillermo del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth and Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite. It was to a performance of the Russian master’s work that I dragged Omar & Karin (Shanti didn’t need to be dragged) a couple of weeks ago at The Sage, and methinks it was a performance worth being dragged to.

I absolutely adore 19th-century Russian classical pieces (my ring tone is a tune of Prokofiev's) but of all of them, my favourite composer has to be Tchaikovsky. He didn't really like the Suite himself and considered it inferior to his other ballets. The tunes in this ballet are easy to listen to and they do not reach the complexity of his 6th Symphony (The Pathetique) for example, which has to be one of the precursors for the bands today that thrive on music-to-slit-your-wrist-to.

Nevertheless, this is one of his works that I admire the most and could spend all day listening to. Perhaps its beauty is in the very fact that it so accurately reflects the ballet in its rather simplistic and innocent theme. One needs to bear in mind that he lived and embodied the Romantic period of classical composition, where modern ideas like atonal keys were the order of the day and his suppressed homosexuality was frowned upon by society, leading to not only other great works of music but also a severe case of depression.

Anyhow, this reminds me that I should get back to my revision of psychiatric disorders. Yawn...

Politikus

How to become a successful politician in Malaysia

  1. Get yourself attached to an established politician, one who has a foreseeably bright future
  2. Use said attachment to propagate your own networks and business deals
  3. Do the necessaries to gain a Dato-ship
  4. Attach yourself to a particular constituency and pump money into it via business deals above
  5. Make the appropriate noise about defending your race against the onslaught of the Chinese/ Zionists/any Western country/ infidels
  6. Recite the Quran every now and then in public. Quoting the Prophet is recommended as well
  7. Assume a face of piety
  8. Smile for the camera
  9. Slowly gain a public face, but be wary of not saying too much to overshadow your ‘mentor’ until you’ve reached a stage where you can shrug him off
  10. Likewise, build up a group of supporters who will swear blind that you’re the second coming of Christ
  11. Discredit any politician that is even thinking of crossing paths with you. Failing which, get him to switch sides.
  12. Master the art of answering ‘yes or no’ questions in mind-numbingly long sentences that may or may not have anything to do with the question

* note that intelligence and altruism are not compulsory

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Time management

Sorry? What did you say? Milan totally outclassed Man Utd & beat them 3-0 at the San Siro to book a place in the finals? Where they’ll avenge their defeat to Liverpool a couple of years back in Istanbul?

Hell yeah…

In case I haven’t said this before, one of the things I HATE is when someone is not punctual & doesn’t bother to inform you. And not just that, I hate it when you have a meeting and it is unnecessarily delayed for reasons that can easily be avoided. It’s just disrespectful to others; it shows that you don’t really give a toss if someone else has a whole different life planned out that does not involve sitting around awaiting your eventual presence.

Case in point – handover starts at 0830. Not 0832, not 0840, not 0845. Half past eight if you’re locally bred and don’t tell time in numbers. And frankly, I don’t care if you have to travel all the way from Newcastle to get to work – nobody forced you to live a good 70 minutes drive away from work, so you should make every damn effort to get in on time. If that means waking up in the wee hours of the morning, then that’s too bad. Can’t take it? Move closer. I don’t live in Carlisle because it’s the most happening place on Earth.

And once you start a meeting, there’re always gonna be a few characters to deal with
  1. the chairperson who doesn’t do anything to rein in the other characters and god forbid, actually looks sleepier than you feel
  2. the person who delays the meeting by regaling you with little details about her life or some juicy gossip about the nurse who got banged by another (male) nurse. By the time we find out that yes, she had a wonderful time walking her dog in the sun thank you very much, another 10 minutes is wasted
  3. the guy/girl who is always late. At which point the chairperson decides to repeat everything that has gone by so that mr/ms latecomer will be up-to-date. Instead of chastising him/her and promising that person that the next time s/he is late, s/he’ll be on duty to pick placenta off the floor. With his/her bare hands
  4. mr know-it-all, who just HAS to comment on every freaking thing that is said or mentioned. Comments that everyone else probably knows but can’t be bothered to articulate because everyone knows that everyone knows
  5. the ass-kisser, who is sometimes so up the consultant’s arse that his shoulders are dripping with faeces. Quite often he’s the same person as no.4

All you need is to stick to the agenda, start on time and voila! You get a short, concise meeting and everyone is happy dappy. Socialising can be done before or after the meeting. There is, after all, a reason for having meetings at work and not discussing patients over a cuppa at Starbucks.

No wonder Elly thinks I’m garang at work.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Hmm...

Your World View

You are a happy, well-balanced person who likes people and is liked by others.
You question whether many conventional views on morality are valid under all circumstances.
You are essentially a content person.

Sometimes, you consider yourself a little superior.
You are moral by your own standards.
You believe that morality is what best suits the occasion.

Daulat Tuanku

This week marks the ascension of a new Yang di-Pertuan Agong; in a uniquely Malaysian system the monarchy is changed every 5 years, a practice established back during Independence in 1957 to placate the various royal families in Malaya that were claiming ascendancy to the throne.

The Agong is meant to be the supreme commander of the armed forces and head of Islam for the states that don’t have Sultans (who act as head of Islam for their ‘realms’). He also appoints various officials (e.g. judges) on the advice of the PM and he (along with the other hereditary rulers) are meant to be symbols of malay supremacy, a rallying cry around which us malays are meant to congregate to in our grand goal of establishing a global presence.

Personally, I think Malaysia should consider being a republic.

The only royalty that I can name and think of with deepest admiration is the current Sultan of Perak and his son (both for their intelligence and their efforts in fostering a peaceful society). And I think Ku Li will make an excellent PM. And while we shouldn’t generalise and remember that there are always exceptions to the rule… the others… well, let’s just say that to name some of them as keepers of Islam is tantamount to insulting the religion.

Can anyone tell me of what use are the Sultans of today (besides taking a large chunk of the taxpayers’ money, giving Dato’-ships to ever more dodgy characters, getting preferential treatment in business dealings and avoiding taxes)?

It is sad that the feudalistic mindset is still prevalent among many malays who refuse to question the validity of spending billions of ringgit (that is NOT kept in check by the Parliament or any other bodies) on the upkeep of individuals who need to do a heck of a lot more to prove that their role is not merely ceremonial. Just imagine for example, the amount of good that can come by with the half a billion ringgit that will be used to build the new palace. And why do we need a new palace for the Agong? Because the old one wasn’t big enough! Sigh…

Things used to be even worse until Tun M curbed their privileges back in the early 1990s, limiting their immunity from prosecution. As a pseudo-Johorean, that news was accepted with delight but then again, who is going to want to go against any of the sultans? I will probably be labelled as a ‘traitor’ by some for uttering these views but I stand by them – the onus is on them to prove that they deserve the respect and love of the people. And it doesn’t hurt to question the status quo every once in a while.

One can also ask if it is fair that this ancient malay relic is funded by the 45% of Malaysians whose rights are not even looked into by them? As HRH Raja Nazrin said, "Only when each citizen believes that he or she has a common home and is working towards a common destiny will he or she make the sacrifices needed for the long haul".

Otherwise, it’s just another case of being ambiguous about the line between Islamic beliefs and ethnic superiority. One cannot claim to follow the teachings of Islam in one breath and then fanatically support an individual reasons of Malay supremacy. These individuals should remember that in Islam, you are held accountable in Jannah for the leader that you choose.