- Degree is not the only way
- Emphasis on other routes, such as the polytechnic or ITE route
- Initiatives for diploma holders to advance through other ways besides furthering studies
- Janice Teng from the Straits Times pointed out that at the same time, we should "celebrate all workers regardless of how far they go", mentions that it is "...just as important...for our society to respect those who cannot or do not want to climb high and are content with the jobs they have"

My thoughts:

The first news of such a shift in mindset came during this year's National Day Rally. I was initially heartened by such news and promptly screenshot the NDR tweets that mentioned this part of PM's speech. After I posted the screenshot on FB, hoping to spread the 'good' news, the reaction I received was either cautious optimism, skepticism or downright outrage.

One commenter simply said "Bual World" which loosely translates to "talking big" (without action). The use of these hybrid Malay/English slang shows the skepticism rife in any initiative that seeks to promote alternative ways of seeking further education, or even career paths. Another commenter felt that this was all bullsh*t.

It should've been unsurprising to see such reactions. Considering that the commenters were themselves in the midst of getting a degree (begrudgingly), about to embark on a degree course, or had just finished completing a degree that wasn't necessarily their dream interest but necessary nonetheless. Put it simply, we were all jaded. Hence, even though such news, that getting a degree is not the end-all or be-all, we can't help but feel like all of this is a little too late.

Where was such a paradigm shift when we were at the cusp of idealistic adolescence? When in our hearts we knew what we really wanted but were torn between doing what we had to do? Is it a little too late?

Hipster sounds like a fancy name for 'belt'

I finally had that the time to watch AlJazeera's Stream programme "Beyond the #Mipsterz Debate" on Youtube.

I have a few things to say on the issue. But first, the context.

Controversy was stirred up when a Youtube video was posted, depicting young women wearing the hijab (Muslim headscarf), prancing around to the music of Jay-Z. If a viewer were to watch it for the first time, with no knowledge of the discussion or the controversy, he or she will basically see a bunch of ladies, wearing fashionable clothes, walking or jumping or skateboarding or basically chillin' out. Like the movie montage we'd like to picture ourselves in as we go about our daily lives, especially on a good hair (or hijab) day.

So that's the video. What's the controversy? Basically, some were upset that the girls were not being modest and how it was un-Islamic. Others applauding the effort to disrupt the monolithic image of Islam and its followers, particularly women, and showcase the diversity that there is.

The intention behind the video was probably to break the stereotypes of Muslim women. One speaker asked when will Muslim women be free from the burden of having to break stereotypes and instead be allowed to just live their lives? To this I also ask, why does it always seem like the onus is on Muslim women to break stereotypes?

Muslim women can't seem to escape heavy scrutiny by both non-Muslims and Muslims. The non-Muslim public evaluates how "modern" Muslim women are and whether they are able to integrate with society at large. The Muslim community observes their women folk to see if they adhere to the teachings of Islam and are quick to chastise them under the guise of protecting them. In both cases, the Muslim woman is policed by outsiders and when she so much as expresses a minute amount of individuality, all hell breaks loose.

When are we allowed to live our lives?

My first reaction(s) upon watching the video:

1. Ok, so that's how they do it in America.
2. Technically, they're not being modest. If I am being particularly anal about it.
3. I'm no better. It is between them and God.
4. Wonder how other Muslim women are like in other countries?

My reactions reflect this oscillation between the expectations of a female follower of Islam and the desire & ability to express one's unique individuality as a human being.

What immediately comes to mind is a hadith I've read:

Abu Moosa al-Ash'ari said that he heard Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) say:

"Allah created Adam from a handful which He gathered from throughout the earth, so the sons of Adam vary as the earth varies; some are red, some are white, some are black, and some are of colours in between, some are easy-going, some are difficult, some are evil and some are good."

Quoted from Ahmad, Tirmidhi and Abu Dawood (Mishkaat al-Masaabeeh, 1/36, hadith no. 100)

Now, I am no scholar but just from a quick reading of this, I can tell that Islam perpetuates fraternity, equality, and freedom way better than the French constitution.

We are equal before God as believers, regardless of our gender or colour of our skin or whatever. We are a fraternity precisely because of our shared belief and faith in worshipping one God. We are individuals, each created uniquely by God. Neither of these contradicts one another.

Therefore, I agree that cultural diversity should be celebrated as long as it is within the permissible limits of Islam. One speaker spoke of wanting to promote fashion in a way that you can tell apart a Nigerian Muslim woman from a Malaysian Muslim woman. Both can be equally modest, if they adhere strictly to Islamic guidelines, but cultural uniqueness need not be sacrificed. There are different fabrics, styles and colours that can be displayed.

At the same time, I still hold firmly to the belief that Muslim women should not physically expose themselves too much on social media, just to "break the stereotype". Be like one of the speakers, that is, by going out and participating in society, be it through civic movements or for a political cause. That is how a Muslim woman can break stereotypes. Not just by dressing "uniquely" but being involved in a smart and modest way.

I feel that the Mipster (Muslim hipster) debate is much more uproarious in this case owing to competing parties entering the debate from different points of departure. In other words, one party is coming from a purely religious and jurisprudential perspective while another is coming from a societal and cultural viewpoint. Both have valid arguments but it is hard to reconcile them because of the lack of common ground. Superficially, yes, the common ground would be Islam and Muslim women. But when the lenses used to analyze these two facets differ, then inevitably, discussions will continue to diverge instead of converge.

However, watching AJ's programme, I could sense that it is possible to move BEYOND the Mipsterz debate as described by the title. The host had challenged one of the speaker guests on how there can be a better conversation on this issue that isn't just centered around Muslim women, fashion, stereotypes and religious law. The speaker responded by providing not an answer, but a question that may help to reframe the issue. The question was: What are we doing as a Muslim community [to change monolithism in Islam]?

The phenomenon of Mipsterz shouldn't be viewed as the only movement as it is simply one in a multi-fold Muslim community. Not everyone can be a scholar, not everyone can be doctor, not everyone can be the same thing. It is precisely because of this that Islam is not a monolithic religion. Its believers are testament to that.

I just finished reading Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451. For a self-proclaimed bibliophile slash "avid reader", I am surprised it took me so long to read this gem. Books + Dystopian society = AWESOME.

Anyway, it was barely an hour since I had finished this book when I was overcome with insight. Deep rumination often occurs when I am in the shower/on the toilet bowl so I wasn't surprised when it happened while I was taking a shower.

Though there is undoubtedly much to say about Fahrenheit 451, especially when one continues to ponder over it and analyze it, the immediate "epiphany" that I received was how transformative books can be. I look at Beatty, the captain of the firemen, and juxtaposed him with Montag and Faber and even Granger. Beatty had read the books that he burns, yet he still chooses to do what he does. For Montag, something snaps in him and the books begin transforming him and waking him up. Likewise, for Faber and Granger, who have always been champions of the written word, books and what is inside of them remained sacred and inspirational to them despite the circumstances they were in.

Books are transformative as illustrated by Montag's personal struggle to make sense of his new situation. However, as happy as I was when I came up with this so-called philosophical conclusion, I realized that yeah, I was falling into the trap of easy endings.

Because let's look at Beatty. He's read the books. He even manages to muddle with Montag's mind when he swiftly quotes various works here and there, showing that he even remembers parts of the books that he's read. If books were suppose to make people more empathic, more humane I suppose, then why Beatty? How can we explain Beatty?

He remains committed to the cause of burning books. He fervently believes that books are deceiving and books are merely sources of unhappiness and uncertainty. He does not want to live in a world like that and does what he can to preserve the current way of life. He is unmoved by books. Here now, we've come to the long-standing myth: Books are good.

Of course, such a statement immediately calls for close scrutiny. Any general, or absolute, statement should incite a reflex of Waitaminutethere. In Fahrenheit 451, we see a dichotomy. On one side, books are bad thus they are burnt. On the other, books are good and are secretly kept or memorized. The funny thing is we don't see how books can be good or bad. Indeed, books play a central role and we see how its existence affects the lives around it. Yet, at the end of the day, it's an inanimate object. It neither lives nor dies. It's just there.

There is nothing inherently good nor bad in books. It is the hands that hold a book that determine whether the knowledge reaped will be for the good or for the bad. One can read Mein Kampf but not be a fascist Nazi. One can read a science book on chemical reactions and then move on to make a homemade bomb to cause horrific destruction. Books do possess knowledge that only becomes nefarious at the hands of Man.

Beatty makes a legitimate point that books may poison our minds with undesirable ideas. From Beatty's end, books will upend the society he is serving, causing mayhem and leaving people in a state of cynicism and inner unease. In the case of Montag, he embraces and wishes for that chaos, for the books to lift people out of their stupor.

Books are transformative. How they transform people is, unpredictable. Some, want that transformation, while others prefer things to just be the way they are. In the end, books are merely tools serving the agenda of the biggest enemy, Man.

The irony of death

To wake up in the morning, to wake up with full control over our mental and physical faculties, is a blessing that we take for granted. Waking up in itself is a blessing and a miracle. One does not need to be religious to appreciate this. In Islam, sleep is considered a minor death. That is why when we wake up, Muslims are encouraged to recite a short prayer as a form of gratefulness for another day, another chance.

It is ironic that it is in death that I seem to be more acutely aware of the daily miracles that occur in life. My senses are heightened to the smell of the fresh soil of the grave, the sound of irrepressible sobs and murmured prayers, the sight of white and black and the shape of a body (a body, no longer a person), the touch of an uncharacteristic embrace shared between a niece and her mournful yet stoic aunt. Though grief surrounds me, the very fact that I can feel reminds me that I am alive and well and present. For that, I am grateful.

We mourn and we move on. Til the next death.

My OldMan emphasized that he wished for a quick and fuss-free funeral when his time comes. My brother thanks him in advance for the opportunity to take compassionate leave. My OldMan claps in joy for my brother.

Such a casual conversation may sound morbid to others. But for us, we believe that death isn't the final end. We rejoice in having made the best out of our lives together, and we hope for a joyous reunion in the Hereafter.

Death is not a destination. At least to me, it isn't.

The soul of a writer

I recently received a text from my former University project supervisor, Mr. N. The text was an exclamation of how I had the "soul of a writer waiting to burst out". I was indignantly asked why I was suffocating her. The text brought a huge smile to my face as it was unexpected. Mr. N was seeking permission to publish something I wrote for him like a month before. I had forgotten all about it by then.

I went home to retrieve what I had written and sent to Mr. N. I guess it wasn't too bad. I could see why Mr. N was pleasantly surprised and excited. I could imagine the stark contrast he saw between the style I employed in report writing and in reflections writing. Upon unearthing my so-called inner writer, Mr. N encouraged me to keep a blog to further hone and polish my "raw" style. I told him that I wasn't new to blogging and that I sometimes post insightful(or so I'd like to think) notes on Facebook. Furthermore, I used to journal when I was younger and have recently begun again, though keeping consistent has been problematic.

Because the problem with me is:

1. Journaling means handwriting my thoughts. My handwriting is ugly and when I see the ugly scribbles on my notebook, I get put off. I start to opt for shorter, simpler words to finish writing quickly or simply end the entry abruptly, disheartened at my lack of elegant handwriting. (Cos who'd want to read a journal with ugly handwriting, I'd moan to myself)

2. I think too fast. The words in my head stream in and out too quickly that my hands can barely keep up to capture the words on paper, thereby also ending my entries abruptly. Which is precisely why I toggle between physical and digital journaling. Typing words seem to be able to keep up with my barrage of thoughts.

3. I start off with a clear objective/subject in mind before veering off course and falling into an incoherent rant.

4. I have difficulty in expressing myself, specifically in choosing the right words to accurately convey what exactly I am feeling or what I want to say.


These problems almost always bog me down even before I make an attempt to write. It is a tremendous triumph to jot down even one complete, concise and coherent sentence. These problems come together to form the foundation of my fear and lack of confidence in writing. Plus also the fear that I have not a single original thought in my being.

And yet, when I put my mind to it, when I 'force' myself to reflect and ponder in order to squeeze out a piece of writing, I find that I am able, no matter how laborious the process was. When I muster the guts to share the piece with someone, I receive a proverbial "thumbs up" as on Facebook or in the case of Mr. N, a commendation. Perhaps I am capable of sparks of brilliance, judging by old entries scattered in my old journals, various blogging websites and social media posts. 

In the end, I write not to be a writer nor do I seek praise. I write purely for myself, to be able to see my thoughts manifest in words, and not as mere wisps, fleeting and uncontainable. I write to capture that single noteworthy moment in my life that will certainly fade from my mind's memory. I write to return to myself when life gets out of control and I become momentarily adrift. 

Now seems to be a good time to write. Especially this moment in time where I am experiencing a mid-twenties (though I'm considered early twenties) breakdown of finding purpose and direction. 

A mid-twenties breakdown, as defined by Douglas Coupland's Generation X book:

A period of mental collapse occurring in one's twenties, often caused by an inability to function outside of school or structured environments, coupled with a realisation of one's essential aloneness in the world. Often marks induction into the ritual of pharmaceutical usage.

Ok, so I'm not exactly experiencing that, especially the drug abuse. But I do identify with the inability to function and aloneness. I guess this is part of growing up. That is, being unceremoniously hurled into new territory and left to determine one's path, armed with an education that seems paltry against the ever-changing world.

As such, I must write.