Abbas Kiarostami, Islam, Suicide.

I was doing a research paper on Taste of Cherry by Abbas Kiarostami. Kiarostami is a prominent filmmaker in Iran, who worked within the limits of censorship to produce several great films that has escaped censors’ snips. In the conservative Islamic country, he has proven himself to be a master who uses symbolism and other indirect manners to convey messages that are so pertinent in our lives, tackling sensitive issues such as women rights in Iran and in Taste of Cherry – suicide.

The film Taste of Cherry is about a middle class guy who drives around finding someone to help bury him when he dies after taking sleeping pills because of certain reasons not explained in the film. He meets several acquaintances to try to convince them to help him do the job, after which that person will get a huge sum of money left behind by him. But in Islam, suicide is strictly forbidden. These acquaintances attempt to persuade him against committing suicide in the name of Allah.

And very coincidentally, I’ve been speaking to some of my friends about religion these days. People may know that I’m not a staunch Christian, but I am a firm believer of the presence of The Great Architect, looking after us everyday and in every aspect of our life.

Whenever we down, we must look up to the sky and remind ourselves that God is there looking after us, guiding us to our correct paths, bringing us back on track when we’re stuck, telling us to do the right things if we are doing the wrong ones.

The Qur’ân says:

Everyone is going to taste death, and We shall make a trial of you with evil and with good, and to Us you will be returned. (Al-Anbiyâ 21: 35)

“………Nor kill (or destroy) yourselves: for verily Allah hath been to you Most Merciful! ” (An-Nisa 4:29)

“……if anyone killed a person not in retaliation of murder, or (and) to spread mischief in the land – it would be as if he killed all mankind, and if anyone saved a life, it would be as if he saved the life of all mankind ….” (Sûrah Al Ma’idah 5:32)

For all the blessings that one enjoys in the life of this world, he/she is expected to be grateful to his/her Creator and to rejoice and proclaim His beneficence and providence. While during all the hard times that come his/her way, he/she is expected to remain steadfast in Allah’s obedience, never losing faith in His wisdom and mercy.

The beginning (i.e. the birth) and the end (i.e. the death) of this test for an individual is controlled by the Almighty Himself. He gives life and death to an individual according to His own absolute knowledge and wisdom.

Keeping the above explanation in mind, it should be easy to understand that Islam holds suicide to be harâm (i.e. prohibited). Suicide implies lack of trust in God and a lack of faith in His benevolence, mercy, love, wisdom and knowledge. In effect, suicide implies lack of faith in God Himself.

When a person commits suicide, he/she practically declares that he/she does not believe that God knows about his/her sufferings, and if God has knowledge of his/her sufferings, he does not care enough to relieve him/her of these sufferings.

A person practically declares that God has unjustly inflicted pain upon him/her, which he/she is not willing to bear.

A person practically declares that he/she does not have faith, confidence and trust in the mercy and wisdom of God, as he/she does not have confidence that God will end his pain in time, and therefore he/she has to end his/her sufferings himself/herself (by taking his/her own life).

Thus, in effect, suicide – in most of the cases – is a clear sign of negation of the faith of a person in his Merciful, Omniscient and Wise Creator and is therefore prohibited in Islam.

(http://www.crescentlife.com/psychissues/suicide_what_does_islam_say.htm)

In life, you can have anything you want, but you cannot have everything. And you certainly CANNOT be good at everything.

Old Sinalco (Waltzing Matilda)

One of our more challenging assignments which we saw us reshooting stuff and dub the audio for the dialogue. Old Sinalco is our take on Italian Neorealism, set in Singapore.

(To view in HD quality, click on “HD” on top right hand corner of the box. Then click on the blue text “watch this video in High Definition” which opens a new window and you can view in HD quality)

Old Sinalclo explores the friendship between two buddies of different demographics, one of which is due to leave for Australia to study, the other can only watch in envy. The now abandoned Sinalco soft drink factory holds memories for many Singaporeans who remember it by the familiar sound of machinery and cheap soft drinks.

Decline to Return Used Crockery & Trays – by Dharmendra Yadav

(DEDICATED TO JAYA DEVI STANLEY)

Since the Prime Minister’s National Day Rally this year, there has been a concerted effort to get people to clean up after they finish eating at our coffee-shops. This usually involves returning the used crockery and trays you use to designated areas. I am not in support of this initiative.

Returning used crockery and trays is not difficult for my generation of Singaporeans, who had to do the same when we were in school or in national service. In fact, I used to do so judiciously until some 5 years ago.

Then, I had recently returned from England to take up a job in Singapore with a cooperative of the National Trades Union Congress. A new colleague invited me out to lunch.

After lunch, I cleaned up the table and was about to return the tray I had used.

My colleague yelled, “No, don’t do that!”

I asked her, “Why? What’s wrong?”

She then pointed to an elderly lady who was going round the eatery clearing the tables. She suggested, “If you do this, old people like her will lose their jobs. There’ll be less for them to do and therefore less incentive for owners of such eateries to keep them employed.”

I questioned my colleague, “Am I not help helping her by doing this?”

She said, “If you really want to help her, clean up the table and place all the things that you need to return or throw away on the tray. But let her take the tray from the table to where it should go. She will be more grateful to you as a person for helping her to do that.”

Since that incident, I have followed my colleague’s advice. The smile I get from elderly cleaners when I do as advised is an experience to be cherished.

The National Environment Agency, with food court owners and cleaning agencies, has now come out to argue that returning the crockery and cutlery one uses to designated areas will not affect the jobs of such elderly, since they will have other things do do.

Like many other diners and cleaners, I do not buy the NEA’s argument.

A table that has not been cleared away leaves the greatest impact on the consumer. Many owners of eateries know this. They therefore undertake great efforts to ensure tables remain clear. It is not unusual for them to employ more than the usual number of cleaners during peak periods so that more consumers will patronise their eateries.

I agree that cleaners have other things to do but these other things can be done by employing more cleaners or getting the same cleaners to do the same during non-peak periods.

It is important here to also note how The Straits Times reported NEA’s position on 7 October 2008: “The NEA, foodcourt owners and cleaning agencies have come out to assure cleaners – some of whom are elderly – that they will not lose their sources of livelihoods. The NEA, for example, says hawker centres will always require cleaners, so they will be redeployed to wherever they are needed, if necessary.” (emphasis added)

Firstly, I noted, in particular, the absence of any indication of NTUC involvement or support to this initiative. Secondly, the key words in the above paragraph are “if necessary”. Need I say more?

If you really wish to help a cleaner, do clean up the table you use and place all the things that you need to return or throw away on a tray. Let the cleaner clear the tray. When the cleaner comes to get your tray, thank the cleaner for doing so and watch out for that appreciative smile from him or her.

By doing so, you will not only be helping eateries to remain clean but also helping cleaners to retain their jobs. This way, we build not just a gracious society but a society that looks out for its needy.

Dharmendra Yadav is a former corporate counsel, presently training to be a trial lawyer.

the new economic dictionary

CEO – Chief Embezzlement Officer.

CFO – Corporate Fraud Officer.

BULL MARKET – A random market movement causing an investor to mistake himself for a financial genius.

BEAR MARKET – A 6 to 18 month period when the kids get no allowance, the wife gets no jewelry, and the husband gets no sex.

VALUE INVESTING – The art of buying low and selling lower.

P/E RATIO – The percentage of investors wetting their pants as the market keeps crashing.

BROKER – What my broker has made me.

STANDARD & POOR – Your life in a nutshell.

STOCK ANALYST – Bastard who just downgraded your stock.

STOCK SPLIT – When your ex-wife and her lawyer split your assets equally between themselves.

MARKET CORRECTION – The day after you buy stocks.

CASH FLOW – The movement your money makes as it disappears down the toilet.

INSTITUTIONAL INVESTOR – Past year investor who’s now locked up in a nuthouse.

MOMENTUM INVESTING – The fine art of buying high and selling low.

‘BUY, BUY’ – A flight attendant making market recommendations as you step off the plane.

FINANCIAL PLANNER – A guy who actually remembers his wallet when he runs to the 7-11 for toilet paper and cigarettes.

CALL OPTION – Something people used to do with a telephone in ancient times before e-mail.

YAHOO – What you yell after selling all you owned to some poor bastard for $240 per share.

WINDOWS – What you jump out of when you’re the asshole that bought Yahoo for $240 per share.

PROFIT – Religious person who talks to God.

Source: Somewhere on the internet.

The magic of My Magic.

(Picture from zhaowei.com – no spoilers ahead)

We caught the late night show at 2:25 am at GV Plaza.

The film that garnered a 15-minute standing ovation in Cannes film festival but saw a dismal $7,000 in box office receipts over its opening weekend in Singapore had us being the only people in the cinema. GV staff even came in a few times to see if we were still around and if we weren’t there was simply no point in screening it to an empty cinema.

How funny when already in more earthly hours, the film is already attracting little attention. Other than those in the media circuit, the average Singaporean would probably just be exposed to publicity material mainly on the newspaper and theatrical posters. And the funny thing was that some I spoke to didn’t even know it was a local movie and thought it was a Bollywood offering instead. There was little or no mention of it on television.

However, we patiently waited for the flick to come on, albeit at a delayed 2:45 am, and boy, we were taken for an emotional rollercoaster ride.

We got back our tickets’ worth with the stunning magic tricks put together in the act. Grappling with the uncertainty if they were manipulated by editing, we were “shocked and awed” by the magnitude of tricks Bosco Francis pulled off in the flick. Unfortunately, they turned into disgust and became heart-wrenching when the tricks became more than just a display of magic tricks. Those stuff you wouldn’t expect in mainstream cinema got us very emotional even without dramatic music, slow motion or more deliberate editing. It was purely our empathy to the sorry plight these characters have gone into that totally got us into tear-jerking mode when we struggled to come to terms that such horrifying acts of exploitation would be played out to such extent in the cinema.

Nevertheless, we couldn’t deny that this personal story was a close look into more private lives of this small family of two, and in reality, things like these do happen but they are rarely played out in such stark realism on big or small screen, mostly only draped out in vivid descriptions in text on papers, or being simply just, underreported.

Eric Khoo maintains his style in his latest offering, with the close examination of neglected characters in our society that is progressing sometimes too rapidly for its own good, capturing shots of the dirty cityscape, extreme close ups of food and with heavily colour adjusted footage with a yellow tint, giving the film a slight dirty look.

Despite Straits Times’ Ong Sor Fern giving it only two stars out of five, I reckoned that there must be a reason why other five-star films don’t make it to Cannes and why this “two-star” one did. I went, I saw, I was convinced – by how the entire film turned out despite being produced with a shoestring budget of less than $200,000 with unprofessional actors, but with a touching story that had all the magic it needed to tug the strings of the human heart.

“If you’re still curious about Eric Khoo films but are apprehensive about the art house essence, My Magic will surprise you at how simple and accessible it is, yet retaining its quality to resonate and move. You don’t need big action or big drama, all you need is plenty of heart, and this film has loads of it” – Dick Steel from IMDB.com

Go watch it if you haven’t.

I met Isabella in a restaurant where we usually go because it’s always empty, even though the food is excellent. She tells me that, during her trip to Nepal, she spent some weeks in a monastary. One afternoon, she was walking near the monastry with one of the monks, when he opened the bag he was carrying and stood for along time studying its contents. Then he said to Isabella:

“Did you know that bananas can teach you the meaning of life?”

He took out a rotten banana from the bag and threw it away.

“That is life that has been gone and which was not used to the full and for which is now too late.”

Then he drew out another banana which was still green. He showed it to her and put it back in the bag.

“This is life that has yet to happen, and for which we need to wait until the moment is right.”

Finally, he took out a ripe banana, peeled it, and shared it with Isabella.

“This is the present moment. Learn how to gobble it up without fear or guilt.”

- Paulo Coelho, Like The Flowing River.