Our last cab ride
was ten minutes long
Wah my facebook note got damn a lot of shares :’) /happy
So woohoo Bersih 3.0 was a family affair. All of us were tear-gassed. I am writing this three days after the day of and my sinuses are still clear. Mashaallah. I know what to do next time I get a flu.
So everyone has written about how Bersih 3.0 was a life-changing experience lah. Uncles and aunties writing about how they wanted to redeem themselves for their inaction over the last few decades lah. This lah that lah. Everybody is an activist now lah.
My article will be different for two reasons:
- I blame everybody in this article! /wink (everyone was being so nice and courteous in their articles so I have to be an asshole lah).
- I write specifically about the lack of communication at Bersih 3.0 — which I think had a large part in explaining why the crowd seemed to join in at the breaking of the barricades. Basically there are lots of references on Twitter and Facebook to some of the things I will talk about, but I think this will be the first attempt at stringing these elements together as a narrative ish.
*Most photos stolen
ash-sha’ab yurid isqat an-nizam
picture stolen from here
irhal! irhal! irhal! irhal!
yasqut yasqut hosni mubarak!
huwa yamshi! mushna amshi!
audhu billah min al-ghabi
audhu billah min al-aghbiya’
*all pictures stolen
A few days ago I received a dose of happy: I was greeted by the smiles of little kids being picked up by their parents. I must not have realized on my almost daily walks to the subway that the route passed by a school. Children’s smiles are the best: they are natural and sincere. Kids! What do they do but embody the moment? Unperturbed by grown-up vices: do I look hot? why can’t I be rich? I need a job dammit. Such authenticity; such charm; such life. I would go in a heartbeat to Neverland — take me away from this calculating, dastardly adult world. Kids seem to smile whenever I see them — on the way back from the store with Daddy, kicking a football in the lobby of the Hotel Pennsylvania, at the neighbourhood basketball court. It is a nice feeling, because whenever you smile, I smile, whoa whoa whoa whoa.
(L-R) apartment, moscato d’asti, warmth provider