Mathematics of Religious-ism

Mathematics of religious-ism
Disclaimer: If you’re a narrow minded, who expects everyone to convert to your religion because you think it’s the best solution to all world problems, kindly leave this page.Today, I’m calling out people who have been the culprits of inter-faith arguments over the years. Please read on and help me identify anyone you may know.

1)        I read a ridiculous article online yesterday. A so-called “Muslim” preacher trying to ridicule Hinduism through slides and presentation of our pantheon. I quote, “ The reason I’m doing this is not to ridicule other religion but to help people realize the beauty of Islam”. Help me make sense. How does ridiculing other religion help enhance one’s belief in a different religion? Even if does, how could anyone compare two completely different religions and arrive at a conclusion? I call these people, “Skewed-boxplots”.  “Skewed” because they are prejudiced, biased and refuse to understand other religions in their own terms. “Boxplots” only because they live in their own rectangular world with perfect edges, pushing other religions to the furthest point possible. Now, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against Muslim preachers. I went to a 99.9% Muslim populated boarding school, and I had a great time learning about Islam. In fact, my close friends are Muslims who earned my respect.  What I’m against here is ridiculing other religions regardless of your affiliations.

2)        Next up is my personal favorite. I call them, “lower-rangers”.  They are people who are who scout the Internet for articles relating to their religions and constantly share it in an attempt to spread awareness or think themselves as “rangers” of their religion. Now, again don’t get me wrong. Sharing it is perfectly fine; in fact, I like to read different articles about different religion. Problem here is when you share without researching. Thousand of people these days, self-proclaim themselves to be religious masters. Some who actually spend time researching and analyzing claims, while the others who “lower” their researching habits and merely share and like articles that might not even be from the right source. In the end, everyone loses out. A foreign reader might assume what you share is right, while a believer might think you are spreading the wrong information, causing further conflict.

3)        Meet the complete opposite, “higher-rangers”. These people often appear to be completely well read and knowledgeable people who have obtained multiplied degrees from various institutions around the world. Yet, they have a habit of sharing their “high” collection of knowledge and expect people to embrace them as the ultimate fact. Even better, they often use their intelligence or credentials as an advantage to allure crowds to belief their “facts”. Often times, the “lower-rangers” fall prey for these people, accepting blindly everything that comes under the label religion.

4)        Finally, let me introduce the “medians”. These are people who choose to remain neutral throughout their life. People who know real facts, or experiences that can help educate other people, but choose to remain silent. I guess, it’s true what people say, silent people are indeed the people who gets the most out of everything. I have to admit, I often fall under this category. Not because of my “knowledge” but because I choose to remain silent. I’ve always thought educating people might not bring any difference. Especially if they have not been exposed to diverse cultures as I did. The thing is, I’m beginning to realize that all these years of silence has only helped two things; ignorance and religious-ism.  I feel the guilt when close friends do not understand religious differences. More than that, I feel burdened by the thought that these people will be parents and pass down their mentality to children.

Thousand of people live in fear to practice their religions or even to admit they do not believe in any religion. I often question myself, what is the purpose of religion? To me, religion is an individual process, which provides a guide to our spiritual journey. In the end, it doesn’t matter what religion you are, but how far have you advanced spiritually. You know you are in the right track, if you could detach yourself from your routines and see the world as a beautiful picture it is, and thank the “painter” behind it.

So, the solution for religious-ism is simple.  “Skewed-Boxplots” needs to be eliminated. How? “Lower-ranger” need to step up their game by researching and be careful about what they share. “Higher-rangers” need to stop acting superior and respect others as also being able to contribute. Most importantly, medians need to break their silence and start explaining when you need to. Increase your “lower rangers” and decrease your “higher rangers”, and take away “medians” and close the gaps between the “skewed boxplots”. All you get is a straight line. Everyone perfectly aligned in a single line pointing upwards towards a better humanity.

Can You Hear Me?

I often hear people complain about the liberal education system in the United States. Some say it's completely unnecessary, while some people (like me) prefer the privilege to explore and "hunt" for new areas that might be of interest. Perhaps it's cultural thing, growing up in a strict Asian culture which emphasizes on Math and memorizing, I have to admit that my education background has only given me the extraordinary ability to regurgitate large facts accurately. Maybe, that's why I applied to Oxford in the first place. I consider Oxford's special "Masala"(spice) of Inquiry Courses as the only education that is able to satiate my thirst to understand why I am even in college in the first place. For once, I wanted to know what and why am I learning something.




Last fall, I took sociology as a random class to fit my HAP requirement. I had no idea what sociology was about. To be honest, Google was my only reference to it's real meaning. It took me a while to get use to the reading load assigned by Professor Gordon. Nevertheless, it was never a problem. I enjoyed reading those reading assignments. They seemed realistic and practical. While my higher level math classes made no sense to me, sociology not only made sense but also challenged it. Of course, everyone thinks differently.


It was in this class that I watched a video titled "Brown Eye Blue Eye" by Jane Elliot. A teacher trying to educate her third-graders a lesson on racial discrimination. A simple but powerful video. ( Watch it )


Jane Elliot's extraordinary desire to make a difference was more than a classroom lesson. It was a reminder that each person can make a change if they wanted to. Since then, I've always been a big fan of small differences that goes a long way rather than big differences that make huge headlines. I had a vision to conduct the same classroom lesson in a Malaysian classroom setting, and with the support of my teacher (Mr Oo), Professor Gordon, Leadershape family and Jane Elliot herself, I had my first class lesson today.


I had to admit the road for this project was really rough. Being a picky big time dreamer, I had big plans for this idea. I wanted to target every secondary school in my state to be my specimen. Unfortunately, time did not permit and many school authority dismissed the idea saying it may be too provocative or unnecessary. Finally, I shrunk my target to a single class of 20 students. 


The full detailed observation, methodology and discussion is here

I realized two important things today. How universal the theme discrimination really is. 30 years ago, the only famous discrimination was racial segregation. Today, we have gender, socioeconomic status and even sexuality discrimination prevalent among us. Makes you wonder, as we "progress", is discrimination really being eradicated or perhaps increasing with the materialistic differences we observe? Perhaps discrimination has always been part and parcel of the society and only now it's gaining the much deserved attention. 


Funny thing is, we are all defined by discrimination. In fact, the term "discrimination" itself is different to each and every one of us. I noticed in class today how my theme of racial discrimination evolved to include sexism and bumiputera status (Malaysian racial debate). Let me ask you this, what is the first thing that hits you when I tell you the word "discrimination", is it fair me to assume that your first thought has to one extent shaped your memory and personality today. If it's true, then we have a long way to go in making a difference to eliminate discrimination. If no, then I stand corrected. 


All my life, I've lived as a minority. From the the only Indian in my high school to the only current Malaysian at Oxford. Things has been both amazing and ugly for me. What keeps me going the thought that I represent something big. At Oxford, I consider myself the spokesperson for entire 29 million Malaysian population. It's no surprise I never fail to talk about Malaysia. The feeling of being a part of something bigger than you is a unlimited mana (energy source) that keeps you going no matter what. My advice, find your energy source and hold on to it. Believe it or not, this source is going to make you do things you never thought you would have done.


You know what else is a growing energy source of the future?


Change

Wanted: Time Machine?

After a long time. Long enough, that I barely remember.Finally, I registered for a First Aid and CPR Course.

It took me a completely empty summer schedule and a subtle unintended reminder from a close friend who is an EMT to remind me of this hankering. I know it seems very petty for me to heigthen the dramatic usage of words only to arrive at my first aid course experience. Well, if you know me at all, you would understand that my decisions are usually ushered by a reason.

I’ve never really told many people about this. But, I was one of those cursed people who watched their family members die right next to them. I was twelve when my grandmother had a cardiac arrest while sleeping. Completely hopeless, I just called for help. No one told me about CPR or prepared me for such circumstances. All I could do was sit there and watch my parents take over.

Funny how that incident has been buried under other memories over the decade. Today in class, Dr.Rashid somehow pointed at me and asked what would I do if I saw someone having a cardiac arrest and not breathing. By now, the answer was already programmed, CPR.

Two things happened throughout my course. I learned a lot about the Malaysian mentality when it came to learning about First Aid, and I was reminded why I wanted to be a doctor in the first place. My close friends would know that, I really wanted to be doctor at one point of time. (I promise I paid full attention during class!)

The Malaysian mentality:

There is a lack of awareness when it comes to these skills among Malaysians. I was enlightened today during class that the typical mentality is call 999 (Malaysia’s version of 911) and everything will be alright. Truth is, time is so limited that waiting for an ambulance to arrive is not going to make any difference. Humans’can only surivive 4 minutes without oxygen and a typical ambulance arrival time is far beyond that four minutes. Same thing goes to choking, rushing to your nearest hospital is not going to be helpful if your friend is literally suffocating in the back seat.

Some of my lucky friends who has been a member of Red Cross or St John Ambulance is often exposed to these circumstances. What happens if you’ve been living the rock and not knowing what to do. The worst part is no one understance the importance of these knowledge until you are in a time of need.

Doctor once:

Following SPM (Malaysia’s most importance public examination), I wanted to be a doctor. For some unknown reason, I’ve always had a strong urge to be a doctor. I myself never knew why. Perhaps I was a victim of the typical “Indian Holy Trinity of education” mentality (Doctor, Engineer and Lawyer). Do anything else from these courses and you’d be considered a failure by some Indians. Perhaps it was my subtle upbringing, watching my dad work in a hospital has somehow rubbed on me. Or maybe, it was the countless number of House, Sanjeevni or ER that I watched growing up.

Took me two years to realize that I wanted to be a doctor because of the practical knowledge it brings. Think about it, as a doctor you have the knowledge to save a life. You would never have to watch helplessly when someone is in danger. To some extent, I understood that a being a doctor is indeed a gift because you have the largest ability to help. Would you not sleep in peace everyday knowing you made a difference?

Of course, that’s the bright side of it. In reality, the classes are painful, the experience of loosing a patient could be haunting, and the burden of “knowing” can sometimes be too much. Today, I consider myself lucky that I did not end up pursuing a medical profession.  I have friends who often complain about the superfluous workload and expectations on them. More than that, I realized that I do not need to be a doctor to make a difference in a person’s life.

Please forgive my deep reflection. I am laughing at how I started from first aid and then pivoted to a completely different topic. Even now, as I am typing this, I’m undecided whether to share this piece. To some of my friends, the first aid course is literally no big deal. But, I hope that someone reading this would be inspired to learn it and that in turn might come in handy one day in making a difference.

For all of my friends intending to attend medical school or those who are already there, please take time to reflect on your reason for this life. I hope I affirmed some of your thoughts or at least made you think again. Please feel free to drop some comments on the shoutbox on the right column.

Regards,

YOLO.

A reflection: Nasi Lemak and Grits

Nasi Lemak: An iconic Malaysian food, served with creamed rice, spice, anchovies, cucumber and eggs. One of my most favourite (favorite) breakfast dishes in the country.

Grits: A Southern cuisine, made up of coarsely grinded corn and seasoned with some salt or sugar. Oftentimes served in Lils together with eggs priding the perfect Southern breakfast.

Funny how as you read this, there is going to be three kinds of people. One who knows what Nasi Lemak (Creamed Rice) is all about and question the meaning of the word ‘Grits’. The other, completely opposite, understanding what grits is all about but probably has the faintest idea what an foreign two-lettered word is doing in the title. Finally, the third kind who is either completely exposed to both cultures, well-read, or has been my victim of continuous presentation on Malaysian food and how they beat everything American.

I hope by this time, you are completely appalled by my assiduous attempt to paint the “victim” picture on international students. If that’s the case, then I consider myself an amazing ambassador and spokesperson for my fellow international community. However, the aim of this post is not to explain the cultural differences I face being the only Malaysian at Oxford (since Deisi is now a graduate), instead a personal reflection on how much I’ve changed ever since my arrival at Oxford last fall. As I do this, I invite all of you reading this to take a minute or two, to walk down memory lane and ask yourselves the same question.

August 2011:

I hated the way I left Malaysia. Everything was completely rushed. I had to miss important send-offs and most importantly, I hated leaving my family behind. I still remember the feeling sitting on the bench at Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KLIA) while counting minutes till my departure. I’m sure all of us felt the same way leaving our family behind for college nothing special there. But what was heavy is the thought of leaving your family and having literally no plans to return back home anytime soon. While I survived on the thought that my best friends were in the same boat, I was engulfed on the fear of what to expect. It was backpacking to some extent. A completely crazy one. For that, I learned how to accept complete ambiguities in life and have faith.

Fall Break 2011

By this time, I’ve almost learned the art of getting around Oxford, Emory and a bit of Atlanta. Everyone was busy returning home this time; I dread the sound of bags being strolled across the quad. Somehow, that sound is classically conditioned to remind me of home. My break was humble. I met up with random Malaysian friends, Hue and Roshan at Georgia Tech. My remedy for ‘nationality-sickness’. I never really gave Hue much credit for being an amazing host. Well, thank you Hue for being an amazing host. Roshan, thanks for the Starbucks mate. Walking around Atlanta and taking my first Marta ride was exciting for some weird reason. It wasn’t because that was my first time in a city; it was because I couldn’t help comparing Atlanta to Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia’s capital). It was that phase; where I compared stuffs I am comfortable with; with stuff I now had to get used to. For that, I learned to get out of your comfort zone and accept new environment. A skills that came in handy when breaking social barriers and talking to people you’ve never met before. That explains my non-stop chatter to everyone, sometimes crossing the boundaries of professionalism and privacy. My close friends would agree with this statement the most

Winter break 2011

To sum everything in one paragraph is being unjust. Refer to my previous entry titled “Living of a Suitcase”.

January 2012

New year! I had the liberty to experience the finest hospitality at New York, thanks to Omar. Once again, I would like to express a huge gratitude for Omar’s generous offer to bunk at his place. While I was clueless where to stay for a week, my sociology buddy gladfully extended his invitation. I never really told him how much his family reminded me of mine. A family of four, working parents with two sons. Everyone in complete balance with each other. Not to mention a loving grandmother who prepares good food.

After that, was my Leadershape experience. I have to admit, one main reason why I applied for Leadershape was the one-week accommodation that I needed and the low participation fees that came along with it. Once again, funny how underestimating something never goes well. I ended up having one of the best college experiences at Emory and Oxford. Alien Invasion for the win! For that, I learned how to put aside my ego (which is huge) and accept favours (favors) and ask for help when you need it. Something that came really hard for me.

Spring Break 2012

Read my post “ASB 2012”.

January and February went by really fast. Exams, quizzes, tests and presentations obscured my memory about time! It was in March that Resident Assistant (RA) results were announced. Something I was looking forward to. If not for the perks but for the company and the opportunity to work with amazing people. Funny how I also met good friends during this period. Friends that I know would be real friends (I hope) making Oxford’s middle-of-no-where tolerable. Friends that I know would not drive me to N***** Medical Center (Centre) in case something happened.  For that, I learned how to appreciate people better. Something that not many people might know, layered by my sarcasm and remarks, nevertheless true. Its this time that I realized why people chose to remain at Oxford. It wasn’t the fancy place (if it’s fancy at all), it’s the company and the ability to be close to people that happens behind those walls. It wasn’t about how many students that went to a school that mattered, it was always about how many do you really know. For that, I learned indeed quality matters than quantity.

Summer 2012

Long awaited time of the year. Also my “Energon” (Transformers), getting through finals and the stress that came along with it. It was during finals I realized an important nature of human beings, especially Oxford students. We get closer to people when they are about to leave. My Hindu Student Association (HSA) sophomore board was an amazing group of people, epitome of Brown people as I would call it (it’s up to you to define Brown). I remember the night before my departure to Malaysia, how we literally changed the lobby into our bedroom, talking about our college experiences. I remembered how best friends sacrificed time and energy to spend one last night with each other despite their busy schedules. I know, it is too much to ask for the same group of people to be freshman and sophomores, but I guess that is what makes you grow up. More importantly, that reminds you that a change has occurred in your life. For that, I learned to appreciate people as you see them, not bottle your feelings up for the right time.

While enjoying my favourite (favorite) dish of Nasi Lemak after a year. I was reminded how much I’ve changed, physically and mentally. My taste buds are at war adapting to the spice and rich taste of Malaysian foods, but my mind often flashes grits whenever I see rice. A dramatic-honesty. My friends make fun of my 24 hours availability on Facebook at times. The truth is it’s my way to telling myself that I am connected to both worlds despite location. It’s hard to explain the need of being connected. Funny how as I type this I realize that I do find a need to be connected to my American friends, the same way I felt the need to be connected to my Malaysian friends while I was away. Perhaps, it’s high time I realize that I have two homes now. One, hometown glory as Adele puts it, Malaysia and the other a completely isolated place and squirrel-land, Oxford. #fml

On Being Circle or Square

Inspired by my current experiences, I question: Would you want to be a circle or a square?

Square, an elegant shape with equal sides no matter what angle you see it from. More than that, it represents firmness and oftentimes remind me of a fort, protecting my ideals and beliefs inside . I wonder, to what extend I have been a "square" in my life.

Growing up, I've have always been thought to never compromise my values. Respect, obey, and follow was always the key elements that were constantly fed to my mind. Funny how these values often gained me recognition among my teachers. I was always to some extent (some might disagree) been an exemplar to my other peers. I remember how I would be appointed

class monitor or prefect or even tutor by my teachers every year. In fact, there has not been a year pass, that I have failed to secure such "status".

As I transitioned to my high school, my values brought me even further than I thought. I made good grades, led various clubs and was often time placed under the spotlight (that explains my craze for fame). In fact, I went a step further and often time criticized my peers who do not share the same values as me. Especially those who are deviant and often time are trouble makers. In essence, I was the guy that everyone trusted to keep everything in order.

In other words, I was a "square", trying to keep the edges perfect.

Truth is, I am bored being a square. My years of trying to be "quintessential" (Yes, that's an SAT word) did bestow me with many gifts as I mentioned. Nevertheless, it did cost me a great deal. I got attached to my endeavors. I forgot there is more to life than a perfect track record. I forgot how it felt to be a be different. Most importantly, I forgot how to let loose and don't worry too much. Simply put, I never knew how it meant to be a "circle" with no edges and sharp boundaries. An empty space where you are free to define anything; enclosed only by your greatest values and perhaps faith for some people. The great thing about being a circle it is YOUR own values and not what people expect from you.

I guess to some extent, we are all circles and squares. The only question is which one encloses the other?

I understand if it makes no sense. LOL.

ASB: A Random Act of Kindness

Every time the residence halls close, I never fail to acknowledge my homesickness. Watching people strolling their bags across the quad, I have to admit that I am often jealous of my American friends. To most of them, a break meant family time. For me, it meant evacuation.

When I received an email from Kim asserting my acceptance into the Alternative Spring Break (ASB) program, I was happy. I wouldn't end up homeless after all. My friends tell me I am lucky to be a part of the group, looking at the limited spaces available.

Now looking back at every thing I have learned, I realize I am indeed lucky. Times like this, I appreciate my name Yugen, which means luck in Sanskrit.

For our first project, Kim gave us each $5. The rule was simple, spend the money on a random stranger. After our epic failure of searching for homeless people and accidentally judging pedestrians along the way, my friends and I decided to get some beach toys and donate it to kids at the beach.

Funny how the kids were expressing their doubts over our gifts. Some even questioned when should they return the gifts back. I never realized how even at a young age, kids are taught never to expect anything from anyone. What more, from a bunch of strangers with sketchy accents like us. Makes me wonder, how commercialized is our world today that even kids no longer have hopes of receiving anything for free.

Our second project was Poverty Stimulation Meal Plan. Each cabin was assigned a time slot where they would have to cook either dinner or breakfast with a limited budget for 36 people. My cabin was the first one to face the challenge. I remembered the majestic plans we had that included chocolate fudge and desserts. As we started shopping we realized that we had to improvise and often time had to return some items back to their shelfs. What we went through was nothing compared to some families who live in poverty. For us, it was a matter of choosing what to eat. To them, having a meal itself its a luxury. Something that I often overlook.

When we were served our Cabin Eviction Notice, all my cabin members were extremely angry. We had to evacuate our cabin and stay with our other friends for the night, in hopes of helping us to understand the lives of homeless people across the country. I feel indebted to my friends for accepting me into their cabin. What more providing their bed and blanket for the night. Some even slept on the floor so that I could sleep in comfort. Although I did this only for one night, the sense of guilt for troubling my friends extended beyond that. I could never imagine how do some people who lose their home feel when they have to stay with their friends or family. The thought of living on someone else's courtesy itself is a huge burden. I don't know what is worse, living on the street or surviving on someone else's sympathy.

One week was all it took to remind me how lucky I am. I know, someone out there would do anything to trade places with me. Although I may not be able to help every homeless person or orphan in the world, at least now, I can appreciate better my life. More than that, I remember the fight to make a difference is never over.

Restoring Hinduism : One step at a time

My Facebook notification was filled with Thaipusam wishes from friends back home. To be honest, that was my reminder of this celebration.

For those of you wondering what Thaipusam is, kindly Google it.

This year’s Thaipusam celebration was different for me. It was not the fact that I am in America, but how I celebrated it that made a difference. Unlike many of my friends, I was not able to visit a temple. I celebrated it by researching and reading articles about Thaipusam itself.

Of course, it could never replace the original feeling of visiting a temple. However, it brought a sense of proximity between me and God in one way. Thousands of miles away from home but I found peace in reading.

I have a question for all of you reading this, when was the last time you actually questioned or understood the reason behind your practices? I never did.

This post is dedicated to restore the correct perception on the celebration of Thaipusam.

Many years ago, a devotee named Idumban brought milk to perform abishegam (milk bath) for Lord Muruga. Every day without fail, he would carry a pot of milk up the hill to perform this ceremony. One fine day, on the month of Thai, Lord Muruga grant Idumban mukti (release from the death cycle). Seeing this, other villagers too started to bring milk and other fruits as offerings in hopes to receive mukthi.

Centuries later, this perfectly simple and harmless act has transformed to include mortification of flesh and other completely unnecessary feat like the one below:

Not the real Hinduism tradition & it hurts

Before any of you proceed to judge this, let me assure you we all do it in our own way. When is the last time we have been a victim of someone else’s interpretation. Have we blindly follow certain arguments and statements just because it came from someone older? Worse than that, when was our last time of self discovery through your own spiritual religiosity?

As time passes, I realized that we all perpetuate ideas that seem rational to us. These ideas then become a hearsay often misleading other people. Admit it, we have all been victim of this. The reason is simple, we never care to find an answer for ourselves.

I've done my part. I challenge you all to learn and correct what you think is wrong.

As long we remain ignorant, religious fanatics will always take advantage of us.

If you really hate fanatics, face them.

Special credits to: Miss Leela and Mr Gajen for their input and resources.