Sense of Humor

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What makes us laugh really? The easy answer would be; something funny. Although one could also questions what defines which are funny and which ones are not. The definition differs between each person with time and place as a variable.

A psychopath like Joker might laugh at the scary sight portrayed in the face of his victims, something that most normal people wouldn’t find funny in the slightest. Racist people may lol at some racist jokes which a lot of decent people would be offended by. An atheist would rofl at something considerably slanderous to some and vice versa.

Moreover, something that is funny usually comes surprisingly. The laughing meter might drop the next time it appears second time around. Public farting loudly in a college dorm obviously would be funnier than at some point in a family funeral.

It is tricky to learn when and where one should do or show anything funny.

Humor is different though. It’s a noun, which simply means an ability to provoke laughter and provide amusement. That means ‘sense of humor’ is a capacity to appreciate and experience humor.

Muslim’s sense of humor has been a topic of discourse in many places. So much so that Hollywood deemed it worthy of a dedicated film. The title is “Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World”. It’s not a totally bad attempt, several low key sarcasm, interesting dead-pan delivery, and explains bits and pieces about what is considered funny for some Muslims especially in India and Pakistan.

Albert Brooks plays as himself and lightheartedly insult not only at himself and his non-famous career but also at world’s inability to understand why some Muslims have trouble to laugh at the jokes from the western world.

Fascinatingly, Mr. Brooks, the leading actor in the movie, is of Jewish descent. They’re renowned for their self-deprecating high sense of humor. I don’t mean to stereotype (but I already did so might as well continue) yet since this is a good stereotype I hope no body would mind.

One of their strength is in the knack of finding humor even in the most adverse moments. For thousands of years they amass a wide range of jokes laughing at their oppressors, problems they’re having, themselves, even their relationship with Their God.

The ability to laugh at one self is probably something us Muslims might want to learn. It really pains me to see the over reaction by some of us in the events of an attempt of humor by some party in the west mocking the ‘barbaric and stupid’ Muslims.
Question: How many Muslims does it take to change a light bulb?
Answer: None. Muslims just sit in the dark and blame it on the Jews.
We should just laugh at these harmless or even the more offensive jokes and use it as impetus for self improvement. The extreme responses were probably just what they needed to bait. We have to learn that humor is not just about playful confrontation; it is also an amusing way in which people can recognize the tragedies of life without getting too depressed.

Although on flipside of the coin, sensitivity for ‘laughing at’ us probably required at the other side of the fence. I’m not talking specific about laughter and jokes aimed to ridicule Muslims, but to all group of people, especially sensitive issues such as religion, race, and sickness.

At least personally I hope they won’t do it too often. We might want to remember that for some of these easy targets, life is depressing enough without having certain high brow artists or some random party making a mockery of something they hold dear.

Certainly we haven’t been too deprived of other avenue of humors and entertainments to the point that we have to laugh at other people’s expense most of the time. It would be totally discouraging if people started to make fun of down-syndrome for example.

I myself laugh a lot. I laugh at children’s antics and smile at their cuteness. Banters between friends made me spill my tea to the keyboard, so probably am guilty of too easily amused. That’s why aged PC jokes still work well for me. Mr. Bean, Donald Ducks, Tom and Jerry continue to make me rolling on the floor laughing, so do other conventional comedy like Seinfeld and The Office.

Although I understand completely that: to each their own.

PS: Selamat menjalankan ibadah puasa Ramadhan bagi umat Islam.

Of College Graduates

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In some alumni gathering by my university, there’s several sessions of seminar by older members. Usually they’re business owners or directors of some ‘big’ national company. Their grief was most of the same concerning the younger generation; that is the lack of ‘ready made’ graduates from our educational system in general.

They claim that most of the new intakes are awkward and not necessarily skilled to perform even the entry level in their organization. It is arguable whether this is a hyperbole or not, considering most of these so called ‘big names’ were once awkward new graduates struggling to impress their bosses too back in the day.

Perhaps it’s a valid criticism. With them able to step into the highest ladder of their own respective company means that they have proved themselves, therefore they have earned the right to pass judgments.

In reality though, state owned schools and universities in Indonesia very rarely teach practical and technical skills to their students. They are usually aiming their curriculum to produce individual capable of future learning and develop their own internal ability to perform non specific tasks, broad in general yet merely scratching the surface.

We can’t really fault the institution. In the understanding that ‘society’ is a massive and complex system with complicated interconnections between many subjects, consequently it’s not academic to direct the teachings to exceedingly specific channels. Unfortunately not many of their students realize this dilemma.

An easy example in the computer science education is regarding the many programming languages within the industry. Universities usually have classes that teach the basics and logical foundation of the entire programming languages popular in that period. They can’t be specific teaching in depth PHP and MySQL to all of their students. Who would know for sure that PHP will still be used in three or four years ahead?

The other factor would be that their professors are not well resourced to master all those different programming languages and following the ever-changing trends in the business. They probably feel they were not paid enough to do all that. Hence they simply teach the basics, the ones that will not change much overtime.

Back in the seminar, case in point they were using was of ITB and Binus. In recent years the growing trend absorption level of employment proved that Binus’ graduates were relatively more ‘ready’ than their competitors from ITB on computer science and informatics. For information in Binus they were taught that specific proficiency right from the bat.

The same thing happened in Architecture. ITB graduates, compared to Parahyangan University, in entry-level job would have more difficulties adapting to mundane drafting tasks. This is due to different approach in their curriculum. In my days of studying, we focused a lot on design methodology, history of architecture, rule of reporting, and evolution of style, instead of ‘how to actually draw’ using pen or CAD.

In fairness the professors may argue that they’re not preparing us to become mere coders or drafters, nevertheless in actual fact the industry requires graduates to pass three or even five years struggling with coding and drafting works before they can apply the bulk of knowledge they learned in the university. In the long run it may prove otherwise, yet that is still depending on plenty of other factors. It is a conundrum really.

Here we are talking about one of the better state university in Indonesia. I cannot speak too much about other leading institutions such as UI, UGM, and ITS. I figure they are just about the same.

Students who are motivated and ambitious enough would learn that specific extra curricular skill set themselves in their own time. Even though this may hamper their effort to attain good marks but in the long term it will help them greatly in the working arena.

So it’s no strange that one new graduate with perfect marks in his/her diploma would struggle to perform real entry level jobs in a company. They study all the time and forget to mingle with their friends in student’s organizations. In working place, teamwork and social soft skills would definitely help them a lot to find their feet.

There’s an unhealthy difference of paradigm between the educational society and business world in relation to the term ‘ready made’ and ‘qualified’. This shows a wide gap between those two planes, how detached they are one to another. Some institutions have acknowledged this and bridging the two worlds early by involving relevant business professionals in their organizations.

Conceivably that is also one of the reason more than one million of university graduates in Indonesia currently unemployed. This staggering statistic was the headline in national newspapers last week. They are probably smart full of knowledge yet very few able to translate it to practical level.

I think it’s high time the Education Department to worry more about this phenomenon instead of spending too much time choosing sound card brand of their department’s high end lap top that they’re going to ‘pinch’ by the end of this year’s budget.

My last trip back to Bandung showed that my alma mater have changed some of their education model. There's some buzz about the place and the word ‘techno-preneur’ is bandied around a lot, whatever that means.

Many Kinds of People

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For the past six months, we’ve been tremendously helped by our maid. Bu Sri is her name. She is around forty years old and obviously quite an educated widow. She dressed up well, wears glasses, and her mannerism is different from conventional domestic helper that we know of.

In fact, one of our neighbors thought that she’s the owner of our house and we actually rent the room from her. We told them she's an aunt. It feels like she is.

In a nutshell, we like her, so much that we’ve raised her salary twice in this short period.

Alas, just like every good story, there’s a complication. Apparently, Bu Sri, has an ogre of a brother. He is forty something brute of a man, a corporal in the army, and built like a bulldozer. Since the first time we meet him a while ago, we’re not that impressed with his behaviors. Always with sleazy innuendos, kinky stories, and often comes up unannounced when we were not at home.

It gets more intriguing for the fact that Bu Sri has quite a sum of savings from the pension of her late husband. She has earmarked that savings to build a house for her daughter, who’s married, and currently living with her in laws.

It seems that the big brother, being a twat person that he is, wants a piece of that stash. He asked her to buy him a Scorpio motorcycle and when she rejected that absurd request, he pushed Bu Sri to the floor so hard; she got bruises all over her arm and knee. He then stormed into her room and stole her hand phone (the one that we gave her) and important letters including savings book and pension papers.

We knew all this when we saw the giant tosser fled out of our house and we found her crying in her room. She told us all of the stories and we were just so incensed. According to Bu Sri, the man has been a bully all his life. She was beaten to pulp at least twice already, yet there’s nothing she could do about it. My wife consoled her that night. She’s asking permission the next day to leave for her hometown Magelang, taking care of the stolen documents.

Several days later, the lovely brother came to our house. I didn’t let him in, so he asked to speak from outside of the fence. The huge bastard told me that Bu Sri is no angel herself. He said that she’s been stealing from us a couple of times, some money, little stuffs like belt and bags and gave it to him. He came over to our house to return the stuffs, not the money mind you.

This however confirmed our mild suspicion. Some weeks ago, I found out that my wallet has been changing places and I was short fifty thousand rupiahs. Ira also lost an envelope with some money in it. Since those were isolated incidents and concerning small amount of money, we didn’t think much of it. On the other hand, we do think that because the thick plonker was asking for money all the time, she had to do what she did.

Back to the dastardly brother in front of the porch, the sodding man gave me an ‘ultimatum’, we have to fire Bu Sri, otherwise he’ll come back with his police friends and we’ll be in the world of trouble.

In the name of jumping elephant, what an unbelievable nerve! I was having none of that and asked him to leave immediately. He scurried away with his bike, and gave me a nasty look that would scare little children before he vanished around the corner. Clearly, by his minuscule dimwitted logic, if he has to suffer not to get a bike, his sister should also suffer.

When we confronted this with Bu Sri, she cried and plead to us not to let her go, she has no other place to stay. She said that she hopes to stay with us even if we don’t pay her. Of course, we won’t be doing that.

A few moments later, the charming brother called my wife and said that he’s not afraid to die, he’s an army trained for confrontation, and he is ready to be fired because he’s been working as a bodyguard to a famous artist. We were just laughing to hear all that. This is shaping to be reminiscent of a soap we get to watch on the telly.

I guess that is what you get when you gave a shallow immoral person a gun, train him to kill without giving proper education and value to live in a civilized society. The man is a remnant of a barbaric time and we were surprised that those creatures exist in our midst.

Not on an entirely different theme, we went to Bandung last week. I’ll write some journal about the trip later. I’d like to talk about something else for now.

We stayed in a hotel near our old campus and enjoyed a memory lane roaming around Dago area. Just like any other visitors from Jakarta, we were shopping like there’s no tomorrow in the plethora of factory outlets scrambled around Bandung. The prices are just so good, we ended up with dozens of paper bags by the time we’re finished.

We checked out of our hotels. Given that there’s still some time before the travel bus arrived, we decided to have a meal at Suis Butcher, one of our favorite places when we’re in college. With hands full of goodies, I accidentally left my hand phone in the hotel lobby desk.

After a good one hour then I realize that something was missing. I was totally stunned with the thought of losing that phone. Ira immediately called my number and some woman answered. She’s the receptionist from the hotel. The lady ensured us that the phone was safe in their hands after one of the bellboy found it. We were so relieved and slightly surprised at the same time.

I rushed to the hotel with a taxi. I received my cellular with glee and thanked the person who found it several times. I gave the man some money as a reward, yet he refused to take it. I did force it in his hand though eventually. Rahmat is his name and I’ll never forget him. In this day and age, there are some honest people left around us still. If the bellhop were bent, he’d have a cool three to four million cash in his hand straight away.

I shared this story with some friends in the office, and all of them shared almost similar experiences. One left her phone in Breadtalk’s table and was returned intact. A friend left an ATM card inside an ATM machine, yet losing no money and got his card back. This truly made me feel good. It brought back my faith that there’s hope in this place. Not all of us are twisted. Not all of us are corrupt.

These contrasting stories however were a lesson for me. Not to be too trustful yet not to be too bitter and cynics towards others. I remember the movie Crash, which we like so much. There is wide spectrum of antics people could do to one and another depicted brilliantly in the movie. Even the most crooked can have an angelic moment in their life, and the noblest person can have a bit of evil in their heart. After all, we’re only people.

Selamat Ulang Tahun Indonesia

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Kami cinta dan bangga padamu. Semoga di hari-hari ke depan bisa menjadi lebih baik lagi.

Of Public Squeaking

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Continuing a tag from Mbak Anita, with a theme of “Age That I Wish to Get Back to and Why?” I insist on returning to the year of 1994. That year saw a mixed blessing for me indeed. There were so many things that I would just love to do differently. The following story is one of them.

Indonesians around my age bracket must be familiar with the term Penataran P4. It is basically a short one week course during Suharto era, which is a requirement in every formal institution, such as university and government offices. The upgrading course revolved around guidance to better understanding and ways to implement Pancasila, our national foundation.

For years, it was mostly lip service and used as formality, yet it came with certificate and all, so some circles deemed it was prerequisite to continue entering the institution. I am not going to talk about the sheer comedic value of the whole process. That has been done to death since reformation in 1998.

To make things short, one of the fundamentals about P4 was that every participant must write and explain an essay about the thirty-six formulaic precepts of Pancasila. The early phase of the sessions was held in a class of around thirty people. Therefore, it was not exceptionally daunting for me.

In fact the professors was rather impressed with my essay and speech, they appointed me to become one of two keynote speakers on the latter phase of the course, which will involve hundreds of participants in a huge hall. Later on, I suspect that perhaps they had something sinister going on behind the appointment.

OK, so there I was, on the podium feeling all handsome and important, in front of many new and smart graduates from all over the country, completely oblivious of the impending disaster that will soon follow.

My essay was about the dual role of Indonesian Army in preserving Pancasila as the sole foundation of Nation principles (yes, please don’t laugh too loud). Little did I know, there’s no love lost between the military and the students ever since 1966. As I went deeper into the topic, restless faces and rumblings began to color the proceedings.

It all erupted during the questions and answers session. I was like a standing duck at the center of the hall with students taking turn sniping loaded questions one after another. I returned some of the flak with interest, some insult and name-calling began to fly towards me. Not a very wise move on my part, I must say. At this point in life, I was a hotheaded inexperienced brat.

Sometime during the barrage, I glanced haplessly to the row of professors, begging them to wrap this nightmare. However, they seem to enjoy the occasion and chattering among themselves. How cruel!

After a good one hour, finally the moderator stopped the seemingly endless session and let me limp down the podium to my hot seat, amidst condescending and piercing stare from the participants. As if it was not humiliating enough, the next speaker, a girl (whom I became good friend months after), got a standing applause from the audience. I buried my head beneath the books.

Now you can understand why I am just itching to go back to the year of 1994. Ever since that infamous incident which lives long in the folklore of my class, I shun public speaking like a plague. I also had to endure some time under scrutiny of some seniors who thought I was an Intel for the military.

I am sure that the esteemed professors knew full well about the animosity between campuses and the army. If they were asking me now to be the keynote speaker, I’d probably tell them to shove it where the sun don’t shine.

Of Children in The Streets

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Several times I’ve observed some children who sing in the bus mixing some Christian and Muslim songs in their play list. I wonder if this is a street smart trick to broaden their target market or somebody teaches those poor kids random songs with them oblivious about the true meaning of the lyrics.

Anyway, I have a mixed feeling to see children wandering around dangerous places at night and hop from bus to bus earning cool cash instead of studying for school. Obviously, earning some fifty thousands a day is far more attractive than reciting names of national heroes or counting obscure algebra formulas. However these children probably do not realize that they are losing their golden period in life.

After watching some documentaries and observing around all these years I can conclude that most of the kids are not doing it for food or books. Instead, they spend their money for glue to sniff, cigarettes, and some kop a feel from cash strapped hookers on the street. It broke our hearts to see two underage girls squatting and smoking under the Casablanca fly-over the other night.

The documentaries also show that almost always there’s an adult behind these kids activities, a Fagin-like character from Oliver Twist, who end up with larger portion of income from these innocent lads. There have been accounts of child kidnapping, and later on exploited as beggars and performers in the street. And I figure it’s not too hard to sway some of the other youngsters from low income family to go and work for them. Such is the lure of green and the unattractiveness of school curriculums

On the other hand, we’ve got our National Education Department incapable of providing cheap and affordable education despite having been allocated around twenty percent of our national budget. Where were all that money spent is a different issue altogether. 1,200,000 students all over Indonesia stopped their education because they could no longer afford it.

The question now is; what can we do as an average Joe? I realize it could be hard to resist reaching for our pocket when some doe eyed little children staring at you asking for some spare change. However, I would suggest there are other and probably more effective ways to help without encouraging them to be on the street.

I guess it’s supply and demand, when fewer people handing them easy money, there won’t be as many Fagins roaming about the place. They’d probably be back hoodwinking adults in no time, but that’s relatively better than abusing naive little children.

Becoming foster parents is one of the better ways to contribute. People can do it directly by adopting child from a poor family, or, indirectly by donating some amount regularly to several noted organizations specialized in helping educations for unfortunate children. Alternatively, we can also look at our surroundings, the janitors and the office helpers. We usually help them when the holiday is near, such as Lebaran or Christmas, but I’m guessing they also need us most when the new school year begins.

So instead of me overburdening my waist with carbohydrates, I reckon once a week reducing two intakes of those tasty J.Co plus Breadtalk and assign them to better causes. Once every semester we’d take a look at their school results and with regular talks to their father we’d know the progress they’ve been doing over the years.

In Indonesia there are several organizations working to bridge the donators and the families in need of education fund. Some are focusing on children in the streets of Jakarta, providing community schools and temporary home stay, such as Dilts Foundation. The others are stressing their effort in poorer and under-developed provinces of the country, like GN-OTA for one, while YCAB mainly deals with adolescents struggling against drugs and narcotics. I have several friends who can find more lucrative jobs anywhere else but dedicate their skills for YCAB promoting drug free culture amongst teenagers.

There are various other groups with similar noble deeds, nevertheless it’s always better to pick one with better track records, accountability in audits, and complete information. Here are some of the recommended organizations out there:
  • GN-OTA (Gerakan Nasional Orang Tua Asuh)
    Bimantara Lama Building 5th Floor.
    Jl. Kebon Sirih No. 17-19
    Jakarta 10340
    Phone: +62 21 390 0900
  • Dilts Foundation
    Jl. Swadaya I No. 11, Pejaten Timur
    Pasar Minggu
    Jakarta 12510
    Phone: +62 21 780 5134
  • YCAB (Yayasan Cinta Anak Bangsa)
    Jl. Surya Mandala I No. 8D
    Jakarta 11520
    Phone: +62 21 5835 5000
  • Annisa Indonesia
    Jl. Cigalontang No. 10
    Singaparna, Tasikmalaya
    Phone: +62 265 546 240
  • Sampoerna Foundation
    (Although please note that Sampoerna is a Tobacco Company, which presumably could have ulterior motives, this is entirely up to your judgment call)
    Sampoerna Strategic Square
    Tower A 27th Floor.
    Jl. Jend. Sudirman Kav.45
    Jakarta 12930
    Phone: +62 21 577 2340
  • Update courtesy of Mbak Katadia:
    Mandalawangi

Of Recap and Roundup

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A dear friend asked me last week about the apparent lack of update in my blog. I jest and said that, apparently, my life is not ‘that’ interesting. We both laughed.

Come to think of it, my life is indeed so ordinary. There is not much going on, which is something that I’m always thankful for. Changes usually throw me out of balance and I’ve always been slow in adapting to any major transformation. If my life is a movie, it will be one without sub plot, action and twist. Mind you, I’d welcome any sub plot if it happens to be a rendezvous with Jessica Alba, or something of that sort.

Speaking of changes, several colleagues in the office will be leaving to pastures new, looking for different challenges. I applaud and am happy for them all. I may have been here for far too long. It’s been four years to be exact. The fact that the people are extra nice and there’s no malicious office politics is something that will be difficult to replicate anywhere else.

Feeling curious, I recap things that have been happening around in these past weeks.

First, the company announced that I’m one of two people in Jakarta branch with the 'best performance' for this quarter. I got an iPod for it with my name engraved in behind (that means I could not sell it). Twice already, they have been handing out iPods for the winner. However, I feel there are other people deserve this more for their hard work and dedication. I certainly hope that someday everybody will be getting one.

Maybe this was some sort of reward for my ‘loyalty’. Actually, I’m the second oldest person in this branch, which is an alarming fact in itself. There was a photo of my wide grinning mug circulating in Petrolink International email. It was mildly embarrassing because I look so much fatter than my boss who was handing out the prize.

Second, I was so happy to reclaim back the domain name Rishardana.com. I had it from 2000 to 2004, but due to being out of town, I was late to transfer the extension fee. Some domain trawler held it until recently. Now it’s back in my hand and I’m psyched! I will put some of my portfolios in there.

For some bonus, the hosting company also included a free domain name, and I chose Negeriku-Indonesia.com. This will be a website of all things Indonesia, from travel accounts, places to go, articles about art and culture of Nusantara, and some other touristy stuffs. Finger crossed it will be useful for people who wants to visit this country.

Third, last week, we went to Senen flea market to buy some second hand books. We ended up with four large plastics full of books, mostly architecture and visual art stuffs. The place evidently has been in huge decline, plenty of stalls are closing. There’s not many people enjoy reading second hand book these days. Admittedly, it is far more pleasurable to buy books from large luxurious shopping malls where there's no danger of pickpockets and harsh store keepers.

Fourth was food wise. We ate at Ta Wan Restaurant twice these two weeks. Once at MM Bekasi branch and the other week in Setiabudi Building one. The porridge was divine and at good price too. Eleven thousands rupiah for a large delicious extra yummy three-flavored porridge bowl is definitely a bargain.

Fifth was about the movie. Three weeks ago, we went to watch The Dark Knight with colleagues and their family from the office. My wife had just arrived from Malang by train when we rushed to the theater; with large suitcases and bags full of crispy crackers, we struggled to find our seat. We missed a good thirty minutes from the opening sequences, so we decided to watch it again the following week.

This time in Bekasi’s very own XXI. Alas it was choc'a'bloc full of children and families, which was surprising because TDK is a very dark, violent, and disturbing production. Perhaps people misinterpreted the image of comical Batman from previous sequels.

It was good fun, very much different compared to watching movies in Jakarta. They closed the XXI lobby so hundreds of people trapped in between the gate and the escalator. When they did open the door, people were kicking and screaming towards the ticket box. It reminds me much of my days in Bandung. Lot of babies crying midway through the movie, teenagers taking pictures and chatting about, and twice the studio stopped to change reels. Splendid!

Well, there it is folks, round up events for the last two weeks. Have a nice weekend to you all.

Of Mosquitoes

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Rewind back six months ago, we were living in this small rent studio in Pejompongan. For around seven years there’s hardly any mosquito manage to sip our blood.

Almost every night we could sleep soundly bar isolated events where the neighboring couple was fighting and throwing some dishes or some teenagers decided to play guitar loudly in the hallway.

Those were some simpler times.

A couple of months after moving to the current home, it was actually not bad. We managed to suppress the little suckers and hold the fort with some anti-mosquito sprays. These skeeters were just a mild nuisance easily thwarted with simple claps and flick of hands.

We did not know who made the order but some guy from the county then fog the area, we presume this was to prevent the dengue fever that has been spreading around lately. However, apparently, this measure barely drove those pesky insects away for a while, and then somehow back with a vengeance while inviting their families with them.

Conspiracy theorists would claim that this scenario was set in motion by those huge insect repellent industries. Spreading the baby insect all over the place. Alternatively, it could be that the dry season has arrived and it is in fact a mating season for these annoying bloodsuckers.

My wife is the one who suffers the most. She could hardly get any sleep in recent weeks fighting a losing battle against the sneaky invaders. Small drop of blood spattered all over the walls and floor are proves of how fierce the skirmish went.

I, on the other hand, could sleep anywhere as long as there is a pillow around. However, with a sense of camaraderie I also woke up sometimes to spray pesticide around the house. This in turn would make me all drowsy and lethargic at the office during the day.

If malaria or dengue fever did not kill us, I reckon these poisonous fumes from the many brands of pesticides would do the job later down the years. Besides, all these sprays in the end would create mutant and super breed of mosquitoes running amok impervious against all insect killers in the market. What a scary thought.

So we scourge around the shopping centers to find better and safer ways to deal with the pest.

We inspect some ultraviolet light specially designed to attract and electrocute mosquitoes. We also bought some high frequency emitting apparatus that claimed it could repel bugs away in a 25 m square area. There is that racket thingie, which some friends assure us it could be deadly to any flying insects.

We tried them all at once.

Now things are getting better, we are back to our normal resting cycle and snoozing peacefully at night.