Do I look dumb in maroon?

(From Personal Archives)
I was walking down the street, thinking how cool I was, in the Bank’s white-and-maroon “Formula-1” shirt when I stumbled upon a fellow staff of the Bank on the bridge linking Jalan Melayu and PUTRA’s Masjid Jamek station. He gave me that look, you know, the deep yet puzzling what-in-the-name-of-God-is-this-guy-doing look. I thought it was nothing, so like always, I said hi and gave him a sincere have-a-nice-day smile. Then he said something. The words came rushing into my ears, pushing their ways into my bloodlines and before you know it, my brain was drained. I felt like I was run over by a huge fully loaded 16-wheeler truck.

“You look really dumb in that shirt.” he said. I could feel my brain froze for moments but I managed to push out a simple innocent answer,”Oh, this shirt? Almost everyone in my department wear this shirt today”. Then came the reply, “Oh, I don’t know that there are other dumb people in the bank?” I didn’t say anything but I gave him a smile and walked away.

I could not sleep peacefully a few days after that incident. The incident kept on playing in my mind like the old Peyton Place reruns that I hated most as a kid. Have I sinned to wear the shirt? Have I committed a crime for just trying to show that I belong somewhere? If it was, why it felt so good to wear the shirt knowing I have actually advertised to the whole world that I actually work for the Bank?

I realised that the importance of sense of belonging to a human being when I saw a bunch of Malay Neo-Nazis or Skinheads as they preferred to be called, walking tall in their Swastika T-shirts, leather jackets and high-cut boots. Irrespective of who you are, a human needs to belong to his or her peers. Even the young Skinheads who barely know what Nazi is all about, let alone to fully understand the principles and ideology behind the movement.

I spent almost 400 ringgit on my son’s Manchester United’s replica jersey complete with his favourite player’s number and his name just to give him a sense of belonging. That is more than my helper’s monthly payroll. Just for him to proudly say that he belongs to one of the greatest football clubs the world has ever seen. You could see the manifestation of confidence and pride with the glow in his eyes, and I could honestly verify that it was not me who lifted his spirits. It was that red jersey that did the job.

And, if we are willing to spent our money and proudly wear the jersey to support the team that never knew we existed, why not the free white-and-maroon shirt to identify the team we already belong to.

I saw that guy again, on the afternoon of 22nd February, proudly holding his maroon card in the middle of a long queue at the ATM. And, even with all the colours of money he took out from the machine that day, maroon seemed to be the colour of the day.

Deep in my heart, I know I look good in any colour, knowing that I belong somewhere.

Chazz - Jalan Melaka

Of Pets and Furballs

I am getting a pet. I am sure about it more than ever. I am still thinking about what to get, though. Maybe I’ll get myself a Persian cat or maybe a pair of rabbits or hamsters? Or if I were adventurous enough, maybe I would get a ferret or even an iguana? That’s a big maybe.
And then again, there’s a big why too. Maybe I am coming of age? Maybe I am in a midst of midlife crisis? Yeah, midlife crisis or what I always term it as menopause for men. I kinda like the term. It has the right ring to it. It has a commercial value, perhaps in a sick kinda way. Imagine a TV ad for the newest cologne in the market, specially made for men above 40. “Here’s to the values that stay on forever. Here’s to eternal youth. Menopause for Men, from Calvin Klien”. (Haha…)
Deep down, I have always loved animals. As a boy scout, it was my pledge. A boy scout loves animals. To some extent, I do. But I have never wanted to have pets, not in recent years at least. I didn’t know why until 2 years back. It took a closed-eye reflection exercise in AW’s Basic Training to make me realize what has long been forgotten.
The five rabbits I had when I was a kid came to me with tales from my past. Well, my dad didn’t give them to me. Not officially, at least and they were not mine, exclusively. They were family pets. But, my dad, he put me in charge of taking care of them and that was as close as I could get to calling them ‘mine’.
I remember we had collections of animals at our house. I don’t know where they came from but we used to have turkeys, pigeons and some exotic and rare birds. We even had Ayam Serama, long before they became a hit in late 90s. They were just chickens to us back then. Long before the craze came into play and the price of the tiny little thing went up to thousands of ringgit.
Did I tell you what happened to the poor rabbits? Well, they all died. All five of them died because of me, the irresponsible kid that I was. I was 9 years old at the time and I was too caught up with my life as a kid, sport practices and football games after school and all, and I neglected the most important part of living, food. The cute and cuddly little fur balls died because I forgot to feed them. And I realized during the session that the event had great effects on me. Because of the event, I never forgave myself for letting them to die. Because of the event, I never trusted myself enough to take up any responsibility to care for pets. I realized that it was the guilt that has actually prevented me from having pets and successful at keeping them, although I have tried.
Back in college days, in good'ol St. Louis, I remember we had cats in our apartment. They came in a package when my housemates and I responded to an ad at a supermarket’s bulletin board. It was not me who suggested but I went along with the decision. We went to a house within a few blocks from the supermarket and the nice lady presented with 3 lovable little kittens. That was when One Spot, Everest and Butterscotch came aboard to become our housemates. We decided to keep their birth names, the names that were given to them by the lady. One Spot was all white except for a little black spot on his head. The most active one, Everest was all black and liked to climb. Butterscotch was what else, butterscotch. There was nothing special about Butterscotch except for the fact that he was mine and officially mine.
We were okay with the arrangement for a few months until we decided not to keep them. That was when we realized that it was not easy to keep them in a small, one-bedroom apartment on 11th floor. And, we had to spare not a small fraction of our skimpy allowance for food and care for them. And they gobbled nothing else but Friskies and Whiskas, which cost more than a box of spaghetti. So, we gave them away. Ok, we technically did that. If you consider leaving the poor cats on the doorstep of the cat lady is the same as giving them away. It was for the good of the lovely creatures. It was done out of love. If it was all that, why did I feel so guilty about it?
I never had other pet after that. Nor have I wanted any. Even after I realized the real reason why I didn’t want any pet. Not until now. Not until today. And I know it is not due to my coming of age or having midlife crisis. It is because I am ready to bury the ghosts from my past. I am ready to forgive myself and I am ready to take up the responsibility.
Now, the most difficult part is to decide on which animal…

Chazz

Loyalty: The Cokeman Story

(From Personal Archives)
Unlike policies, guidelines and procedures, loyalty is something that you cannot enforce. It has to come voluntarily and from within our hearts. To an organisation, loyalty of the employees means higher commitment and increased productivity, which translate to higher generation of revenues and profit.

But, does it exist these days? Are we too self-centred to be loyal to anything? In the era when people are willing to step on other people’s toes to reach the top, does it pay to be loyal? Is it worth it to stay and slave yourself in an organisation when the rest of the world hop from one job to another and while doing that, securing higher pays and climbing up the corporate ladder faster than you are? Are our lives driven only by dollars and cents that we are only loyal to an organisation that rewards us with promotion, hefty performance bonuses and exponential salary adjustments?

I didn’t have the answers to those questions until I met a forty-something Executive from one of the most successful MNCs, Coca Cola Corporation. He has been working with the company for 10 years, now heading the Asia Pacific Regional Headquarters in Indonesia, which covers 9 countries including Australia, New Zealand, Thailand, Papua New Guinea and Indonesia.

He was wearing a collared Coca Cola polo shirt, a Coke-labelled denim and a blue sport wristwatch with Coca Cola logo when we met.

“This is what I always wear. I seldom wear clothing that does not have Coke labels. Even at parties, I would wear shirts that have Coke logo on them and my Coke dress watches presented by the President of Coca Cola Corporation, USA when he visited our Indonesian office.”

As if that did not give me enough shock, with a huge grin, he added, “I don’t eat at restaurants that serve Pepsi or those under Pepsi account. If my kids want to go to KFC, I would order a take-out and we would eat at home.”

“At our house, I have all the Coca Cola souvenirs on display and that includes all the merchandise and collectives dated from as early as the 50s. I even have the tiles for swimming pool, which make up a big Coke bottle on the bottom of the pool.”

When we teased him about his being a fanatic, he replied, ”Come on, Coca Cola pays for everything I took home to the family. The least I could do is to support the Company.”

And, guess what he gave me as a souvenir? A black round-collared Coke t-shirt!