A Good Man: Tribute to Prof Tan Tai Yong

Prof Tan Tai Yong, Vice Provost (Student Life) used to be the dean of Faculty of Arts and Social Science, National University of Singapore.  I spoke to him even before I got admitted to NUS. That time, I was slightly critical, wondering if local universities are for me. So I asked him what his thoughts are on local universities. He smiled and told me very politely that for undergrad, NUS is very good. If I really want to venture out, do that after my Bachelors. He made good sense. More importantly, his very cheery and polite manners made me think twice about NUS. Ah, if the Dean is not an airy-fairy man, then NUS is probably quite grounded.

And it is. The leadership sitting in the Provost's Office are fortunately people with a heart for students, who could empathise what financial difficulty means, what academic stress means, what undergrad emotional turmoil means.NUS has, alas, provided a very safe environment for students to grow. The Provost, like Prof Tan Tai Yong, is also a good man.

Prof Tan also happens to be teaching history. Life took a strange turn in university. I who studied Biology, Chemistry, Mathematics and Geography (only) in Junior College ended up reading History, something which I thought I hated. (Of course, to my amazement, it was the best thing that happened to me!) The second time I saw Prof Tan was in a BBC documentary on Singapore. And I read his books as readings for my classes.

Prof Tan goes out of his way to help students cope with NUS life. I wrote a sensational article in a student newspaper, and got slammed for it. Prof Tan, alongside Prof JR and Prof KHC agreed to meet me to talk about the issue. JR and KHC said they cannot accept a student as residential assistant to help with financial difficulty, but Prof Tan told me to go see him at his office. He hired me as an intern so that I could move into the hostel, that I could better concentrate on my studies.

Prof Tan also made sure I settled in well, and he actually met and called the admin people from Office of Accommodation, the Cinnamon College, and possibly a number of other people, just so that I could get my room soon, and settle in. And then he got people to follow up with me to make sure I could move on from that incident. Strangely, no other staff really cared, or remembered. Many promised to follow up with me, but did not. Of course I moved on, but I thought it's quite spectacular to know that the Vice-Provost of NUS actually cares about a small fry like me who's just trying to survive. Quite glad that NUS has such high calibre management who are not only competent but cares.

Then Prof Tan happened to ask what I'm interested to work on for my thesis. My research interest, business history, Singapore, and India, happens to be quite obscure - very few work on India in the history department, and very few work on business history in the world. He helped me link up Ngee Ann Kongsi, and Singapore Indian Chamber of Commerce, to explore if I could help them write their history. That took a lot of Prof's time, I imagined. Those options didn't work out very well for me, so they were dropped.

One more chance. How about, write a company history, on a port-logistics company? Honestly, it sounded a bit daunting, partly because of the people I was expected to meet, and partly because I have no clue what CFS (container freight stations) and ICD (inland container depot) mean. Maybe I might disappoint Prof Tan, or embarrass him, or if I mess up, he may have to explain on my behalf. Just try. I met the chairman of the company, and it was an interesting project, and with all the faith people had, I felt that I should at least give it a shot.

At this juncture, I would like to say that Prof Tan would probably do the same for just any other student. There was really nothing I could offer him - no prestige, no salary boost, whatsoever. I still remember once I asked him why he troubled himself for an unimportant person like me and all he did was smile and said he likes working with students.

I really went to India to do research for my undergrad thesis! It was a steep learning curve (more so talking to high net-worth people, interviewing people with a different culture). Thesis is probably one of the best things that happened to me in NUS because it's (still!) fascinating, though not easy. I still hope things would turn out fine, but whatever - I'd put in my best effort, and that's the most I can give.

Thank you prof.

The Kettle and Vicks Vaporub

Mr Gurcharan Das was the trigger that made me write again. He mentioned in "Local Memoirs of a Global Manager" that an Indian lady in the local bazaar had actually taught him how to use Vaporub in this manner - put a spoon of it into the kettle, and inhale the vapour. Incredible!

Mr Gurcharan Das is former CEO of Proctor and Gamble. He has had many years of industrial experience worldwide, and eventually quit his job to become a writer. Initially I was skeptical when my professor recommended that book. Can a businessman write something moderate, something value-adding to academia? You'll be surprised. I was, at least.

"India Unbound" records a very fascinating perspective of India's progress since its independence from the viewpoint of not only of a businessman, but in many ways, an Indian local, a traveller, a semi-political figure (he's not a politician but he has lots of clout in India, at least, post-Independence). His habit of keeping a diary (I inferred) might have contributed to his colourful writing of how in the past, Indian judges ruled 10 out of 10 times in workers favour and not in businesses' favour and how things has changed. He also doesn't do it overboard and claim that India is the most amazing place to work in after liberalization in 1991, and went through the nitty-gritties that academics from outside might have otherwise missed, e.g. why Narasimha Rao lost the election despite being the person who brought so much good to India.

Another day I was chatting with an Indian friend, who warned me about the "perils of Delhi" after December 2013 protests over a lady who was gangraped on a public bus. I'm not sure whether things became worse, but I think the imaginations of India seem to be more "backward and looming-dark" rather than its possibilities.

I also spoke to lots of business directors during my recent trip to India, and they all agreed that India is full of possibilities, but also agreed that India is associated with everything backward (like Slumdog Millionaire) and dangerous (like the Delhi 2012 incident). I think it's more than that - it's just that international media prefer reporting on the sensational things vis-a-vis the glam and glorious contra-stereotypical India.

The kettle and vicks vaporub. 

Foucault and Ideas

"If you say something often enough, it becomes the reality."
No, Foucault didn't say this, though Foucault really meant this.

I was admitted to USP as a Science student. Had I not been talking to people, I wouldn't have known of this programme's existence from that part of the world that I came from. In class, I was presented "Power/Knowledge" as my first reading. I learnt about the Panopticon and Foucault's "Power of the Gaze". I read that paper more than ten times, and felt demoralised that I still couldn't really understand everything.

Now that I'm in my Fourth Year, I was presented, yet again, Foucault. Such a brilliant man, I assumed. I heard much about him. Into Foucault's work I jumped, "The History of Madness".

Can "Madness" have a history? Isn't it a condition, a mental/psychological condition? Isn't it a sickness of sorts? How can a person write a History of Madness (or Happiness, or Loneliness)? 

His way of writing history is, to say the least, weird. Brilliantly weird. As a deconstructionist, he attempts to move away from "chronology". There isn't any teleology, no past, no future, lots of present looking into the past, and bits and pieces of the past that are haphazardly stitched together. But nonetheless, brilliant.

Madness, to my understanding of him (because no one can truly understand him, I think), is a form of the powerful subjugating those who are too liberal, those who do not follow norms. What do we call madness? Why is madness a medical condition? Why confine mad men and alienate them so much, to the extent one keeps thinking "the mad man may hurt me!"? Why confine them like a prisoner? If they can't restrain themselves like how criminals can't, do we lump the two together? They seem to be punished in the same manner (at least in the beginning of that history).

He mentioned, that physical sickness suddenly became a private affair and madness a public affair. It is true. Leprosy was a disease that was "deserving" of confinement for as long as Christiandom was hegemonic.

He writes in power/knowledge that power creates knowledge, which is a notch above "knowledge is power".

I then went back to the Discipline/Punish ( where the Benthamite Panopticon was situated). Discipline doesn't make one conform, he says. Discipline separates, distinguishes, and sieves out. Punish those who are different from others.

forgone conclusion?! but...

what do you do when faced with a forgone conclusion?
This is inspired by an academic interest, as well as a personal interest.

I'm reading Military History: The Battle of Hong Kong. It is generally understood that Hong Kong, being such a small island with little resources (military or other supplies like water) can never defeat the Japanese in face of an invasion. It occurred, in 8 Dec 1941. General Christopher Maltby however was confident that he could hold Hong Kong, for a few months at least. But he did not; it was lost, with extremely heavy casualties, in about 17 days. Why fight, and to what end was the garrison supposed to fight? Till the last man? Why send 2 untrained Canadian battalions who thought that they were not going to fight to Hong Kong, and why was it not communicated to them that Hong Kong was an outpost, and had little chance, if any, of survival? Some scholars have argued: "There's no difference if one were to send them into a meat grinder."

Alas, Maltby, and Brooke-Popham, (Air Marshal? C-in-C of Far East Asian Command?) believed that the enemy was weak.
Murfett's law: "Never underestimate your opponents."

Knowing your enemy is deadly, how do you make preparations to fight it?

Knowing that I might fare reasonably badly for this module, how do I try to save myself? Or do I suffer from inferiority complex? Am I panicky and reactionary, such that I can't think of the "best solution"?

==fight or die==
That was what the Japanese were faced with. Either you die gloriously, or you die pathetically. Either way, you die. But with a little bit of luck, you might survive.

To what extent is a "back door" a hindrance? Do people divorce because that is their back door? If there wasn't any divorce possible, could people love more, or try harder?

Surprisingly, what I learnt from this module is how willpower can triumph over dire circumstances. Amazing leadership, according to my Prof, does wonders. It can resurrect the dead even (no, it can't, i'm kidding), turn the tides, and make all things possible.

Could it be well-calibrated, cautious confidence, that leads one to victory? well-calibrated here means knowing your own strengths and weaknesses, and knowing the demands of your task ahead. Cautious is self-explanatory; always be prepared, for the worst scenarios. And whatever the case, have faith in victory - otherwise, "the battle is half lost."

And it all seems so paradoxical. How can one be cautious yet confident? How can one be confident in being well-calibrated enough? Having done all, resign to fate? >.<

Murfett's law: Luck. Machiavelli's favourite word: Fortuna. She only sticks to the bold, those who afford to take a calculated risk.
(And of course, what is a calculated risk? Does it factor in how dire the situation is?)

Actually, there's something I haven't spoken about.

First, I noticed that humans admire those who recognise and are not afraid to admit they have weaknesses.

Second, sometimes the conclusion isn't so much in winning or losing. George Osborne, a soldier, threw himself on a grenade and saved 6 lives. He lost his life. But he won in many ways. He won my respect, the respect of the soldiers around him, and he won a Victorian Cross, the highest ranking medal.

Thirdly, while victories are often clear-cut, defeats aren't. Because there are many levels to being defeated.

Hmm...

The history and evolution of written communications

This post is dedicated to ranting, ranting about the need to sound professional almost all the time.

1. Letter in a bottle
We all want things to be in order, in a certain format/style, wherever, whenever. Does growing up really mean that one has to give up style in expressing oneself? This was during Newton's times.

2. The Telegraph
One may argue that the concept of a standard universe was destroyed along with Napoleon Bonaparte. It did, however, come back with Otto von Bismarck, as he gloriously led Prussia into victory in 1871. That to me dawned the glorification of machines. A British would argue otherwise, that the Industrial Revolution that happened in Britain made use of sophisticated machines since the start of the 19th century, and even spread technology of steam and rail to Europe and India.

3. The rise of the Speed-post
Speed-post (the snail mail in its fastest form) travel by air. In my primary and secondary school, which really wasn't so long ago, I had learnt how to write a formal and informal letter. That was how speed-post worked. You either write a formal letter, or an informal one.

4. The rise of pager
Message in the shortest form. You can page a person by dialling the receiver's pager number (which is like a mobile number). What the person does is to find a public phone to return your call. Occasionally, "happy birthday" or codes can be sent.

5. The rise of the email
Email started to get popular in the late 1980s. It was so new, nobody really used it. When someone did use it, it was for leisure purposes, for the novelty of it. It was the new cool, I remembered. I also remembered typing my friend's name in the "To:" field. Amazing. Even a three-year-old knows how to email now, I kid you not, without making the mistakes I made when I was 11.

6. MSN: The rise of instant chat
It was in the 1990s, when it became such a big thing. I was in primary school, and dating a boy in class, through MSN chats. All sorts of crap language we used. lol. nvm la, stil gt tmr 2 solv e prb.

7. Ding-dong! Sms!
In case you're wondering, that's a famous ringtone for SMS in Singapore. SMS got really popular in the late 1990s. They were used for informal purposes. Texting became a big thing only after Starhub started its 700-free-sms-per-month scheme for $10, in 2003. SMS language was very popular for a period of time.

8. Friendster - the prehistoric Facebook
That was a platform where one could add as many friends as one could find, to show off to the world how popular one was. The profile page could be decorated, and description could be made. It was in the beginning years of the millennium.

9. Blog!
Gone were the days when one had only one audience. A blog offers incredible viewership. Initially started as an online diary, it quickly deviated towards pro-blogging - making money, and sharing expertise online.

10. What's App/BBM
If you don't know what BBM and what's app are, you're quite outdated. BBM stands for Blackberry Messenger, which allows one to instantly write to a Blackberry user overseas for free (similar to email, but friendlier). What's app is an application for groups of people from anywhere in the world to "msn" and sms at the same time. One can share pictures, weblinks and whatnot, and one sends it to another person's phone number instead of email address. Currently, it's still very new, and considered cool to be part of.

Alas. I'm still cool. But I really dislike the fact that there are so many rules in writing that has evolved with non-verbal, written communications. I think creativity and personality are really important, and I'm not prepared to give them up in my letter formats and styles.

Giving in India

I'm writing on giving/gifting in India, on how, and why, it is done, amongst merchants, towards both religious and secular institutions. I'm going mad because there isn't enough sources for me to write on. Yet, there are more than what I require, for me to consolidate, gather, and make sense of. Big terms like Social capital by Pierre Bordieau, Sanskritization by M.N. Srinivas, Credit by C.A. Bayly, and vicarious ritualization by Milton Singer, got my brain overheating. And off I go in search to make sense of these vague terms. Other than my secret glee of knowing the names and works of these scholars (anthropologists, sociologists, ethnologists, historian), all these seem transient. So transient, the next semester I would be looking at a bunch of different names.

"I'm your biggest fan I'll follow you until you love me, papa-, paparazzi" - Lady Gaga

I somehow feel that I'm a paparazzi following the works of these scholars. I dream them, read them, memorize them, recite them, apply them. Gosh.

As if I would need any of these when I graduate. The unfortunate thing is that I take a long time to remember what they say, and eternity thereafter to forget what they say. The education system about force-feeding, vormitting, and carrying on, isn't really what I'm apt at.

Significance: It is understood that Indian merchants spend a lot of money on giving, through the ages, much more than their Western counterparts. It is also noted that generally, they give to religious causes, education/public works and infrastructure, and political causes.

Irony of explaining how they give: They have given to various causes through the ages. However, Rudner argues that the Chettiars stated giving to secular causes only because of the British, and calls it religious endowments (Palsetia also uses the term in Parsis), which connotes an extremely capitalistic slant. Similarly, Douglas Haynes argues that there is a shift from offering tribute to giving philanthropy, because of the British, arguing that it is clever politics at work. Milton Singer proposes that it has to do with Hinduism, that it is the effect of Sanskritization, as opposed to the Weberian thesis on Hinduism being incompatible with capitalism.

Is there a dichotomy between religious giving and secular giving, or is it an extension of giving in general? If so, is it linked to Hinduism?
Why they give:
1.Religious – Hinduism, want to get to heaven
2.Economic – advertising par excellence, networking, creditworthiness
3.Social – altruism might bring forth fruits that might be valuable
4.Reputation – part of the “vicarious ritualization”, increasing one’s social capital
5.Political – want their names to be kept forever, either in names of buildings, or knighthood, or political titles

*Note: motives can never be generic and they are very often guesswork. Avoid postulating the exact reasons they start out with. Rather, look at a list of reasons for giving.

Is there a pattern to the giving across India? Could the pattern be extended to Asia in general (NAKS)? Why or why not? Is this form of giving similar to the Western concept of philanthropy? Why or why not?

On military history

As Admiral Alfred Thayer Mahan noted, “… defeat cries aloud for explanation; whereas success, like charity, covers a multitude of sins." That was the Battle of Hong Kong, a battle in which it was an almost clear victory for the Japanese, and a bloody loss for the British, but how ironic. They went ahead with the fighting.

And many battles are fought despite it being an obvious defeat on one side. In ancient times, war was fought with sticks and stones. Those were the times where giants (2.4m, maybe) were useful as military possessions. Samson and Goliath were such extraordinary giants.

Sticks and stones. When Albert Einstein was interviewed on how the Third World War would look like, he replied, "I don't know, but I know what the Fourth World War would look like. It would be fought with sticks and stones." [For people who are still blur, it means that the Third World War would have wiped out civilization.]

In military history, we learn about big guns, tanks, strategies, tactics, and while some evaluate the "how" (how did the defeat/battle happen), others examine the why. I came across a quote which says that morale is the most important thing in war. Some like Thayer Mahan of course prefer big guns and big ships (Mahan propagated the big surface fleet theory: humongous battleships as necessary to win naval wars). Some prefer strategies, like the Jeune Ecole (aka the Young School), which prefers submarines (cheap, stealthy and strategic, with aim to destroy shipment and cut supply). Of course, the Bushido spirit is what some scholars would suggest of the Japanese in the Pacific War. To date, I haven't confirmed if the bushido spirit is an imagined creation of an academic, or if it really exists. But yes, like a samurai, nobody surrenders. Fight to the last drop of blood.

Military history is also something where I closely examined black swan events (M.H. Murfett) and the imponderables. In the past, torpedoes failed to fire at the crux of the moment, or they bounced off the hull and u-turn! {oh my god!} Secrets leak out despite being encrypted in the best technology. Double spies, even triple spies, exist - people who help all sides and get paid by all, but has a higher risk of never living to a ripe old age, or always being on the run. Even alcohol and dinner parties made soldiers divulge TOP-SEC (top secret). Scharnhorst and Gneisenau (battleships) escaped right under their enemies' nose, and Prince of Wales and Repulse (that's right, the two battleships that were supposed to have safeguarded Singapore from its fall to Japan) sank. It therefore isn't too much to say that planning isn't all helpful.

If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.

This is right though. However, there were cases in military history which planned to fail. Yamato (battleship) was one such instance. Fight a fleet of battleships in the Battle of Okinawa. It was designed to be unsinkable! And yes, the Japanese had not enough fuel to fight the enemy, so to be prudent, the fuel was only enough for a one-way trip. The question was why the best battleship which had existed wasn't used to defend. Its guns were really huge (72,800 tonnes at full load and armed with nine 46 cm (18.1 inch) main guns) and powerful, able to punch holes in other battleships. Of course, in many instances, the failure to plan results in failure. But planning isn't ever enough. Coming back to the Battle of Hong Kong. Did the Canadians and British plan properly before sending troops to Hong Kong? If they didn't, that's lamb to the slaughter. But it wasn't. But neither was it well-planned. Administrators were lousy, British did not warn the Canadians adequately, the Canadians thought the United States would enter the war and Japan would be defeated in no time. Best still, the sending of C-force could perhaps make the Japanese wet their pants and run away. Obviously they didn't. The battle lasted only from 8th to 25th December, and yes, while today is Christmas, let's take time to think about the surrender on Christmas Day.

Christmas. Island. When I googled Christmas Island, touring sites popped up. But no! What I had in mind was the testing of nuclear bombs at Christmas Island; how could there be humans, let alone tourists?! It was also a place where Britain had to make concessions to the United States because the latter was the superpower, and Britain, which owned the island and promised to ban nuclear tests, had to concede to the USA and allow nuclear tests.

To those who taught me military history, a big thank you. You know I haven't an idea what a breachloader was, or how a fleet carrier differs from an aircraft carrier, what T-34s were.

A/P Malcolm H. Murfett

He is one of the finest professors I could ever imagine. He's my History professor, hailing from UK, and has been and is currently teaching in NUS.

He brings History to life, right before your eyes. When I attend class, it is almost as if I'm seeing the events right before my eyes. He ejects his opinions and feelings into characters and events after going through the facts, and analyses. It is as emotive and real as it gets. I sense the grandeur of Napoleon I, the shrewdness and brilliance of Otto von Bismarck, the dedication of Clement Attlee, the incredulity of Scharnhorst and Geisennau escaping right before the Allies' eyes without getting bombed. I sense the disgust yet maligned persona of Louis Napoleon, the devastation of London after bombing, the sternness of Stalin, the happiness from the 1980s revolution behind the Iron Curtain, the agony of DDR sportsmen having to consume vast amount of drugs to compete in sports... One of my classmates comments: "I don't know what I am supposed to write in class. He teaches so well it feels like I'm listening to a story, totally drawn. At the end of the day, I don't write enough notes."

He writes an essay for every single lecture he gives. Which lecturer, exactly which, would give their own write-ups/essays as readings?! I have seen umpteenth lecturers pointing you to the library, Reserve Book Room, to train you up by photocopying the relevant materials. I have seen lecturers requesting one to buy textbooks, some written by themselves (this is fantastic), most written by others. Is that sufficient? Oh no, as a History student, you are required to read widely. He gives you a list of books and does not tell you which pages are relevant. As a History student, you need to develop the research skills.

And we know about his debates which costs 20%, intending to train us to be defenders of our own thoughts and opinions. His MCQs, Murfett's Killer MCQs, are there to tease your ignorance and sloth. And we know there is no "warm body component", his favourite term, which suggests that students have to speak up in class or they get no marks for attendance. And students have to write on Forums.

Sounds ludicrous? I feel that all these make so much more sense than those endless tests and papers. So what if we write. It is not as if Murfett gets a new revelation of something new in those research papers. If university requires me to learn research skills, there are plenty of opportunities in all classes. His class is Oxbridge standard.

He's very fair. You put in the effort, you get the marks. He's not out to fail students. Despite hints, some students still don't do well (because they are inconsistently hardworking, or consistently lazy). He's a good Roman Catholic who has strong moral values. The most remarkable thing is that he doesn't teach History just for academia's sake. Of course, students learn. But students learn moral values from these History lessons.

"Do not dehumanize History." That sounds wrong to many academics, but that is highly relevant to students of History. Characters deal with events yes, but Luck provides events. The weather, illness, natural disasters all play a significant role in History, sometimes in an imponderable manner. "Imponderable but not Inevitable", one of his books, is a fantastic read.

He believes in students. He comes from a humble background, and he inspires me because I come from a less-privileged background (as compared to my peers in NUS). He treat students as humans, as learners, not as subjects, or numbers. He remembers names (so don't skip his classes, cuz they are fantastic to begin with).

He inspired me to continue reading History. Grandmaster Shawn Seah said he is a good man. And he is.

The most important thing I have learned: We all assume others are always in top-form. Truth is, humans are never always in top-form, for all kinds of reasons. These figures you are reading are still humans. Who cares they are from the 18th century? They face the same problems like we do. Who can make sound decisions when they are ill or in pain? Who can predict events that follow?

Here's to an orator like Churchill, a leader like Attlee, a figure of inspiration like Napoleon I.

-He ran into my boyfriend and I at the lift, and he introduced himself to my boy, asked for his name, and shook his hand!
-He didn't see me for a good three months during summer holidays, but greeted me at the door of his class.
-I'm often in a daze in classes because of troubling stuff. He would always catch me. "Are you okay?" He smiles. Oops.
-He knew I messed up one of his exams in a terrible manner (because I wanted so badly to do well) but instead of thinking I'm darn useless, he didn't look down on me, and instead reminded all his classes to "choose your question carefully!" And I have missed his extra classes before (shrugs). It was a relief he wasn't angry or I would have been very stressed.

Mughal Paintings

What has History got to do with Peacocks? Lots. As I search for the significance behind Peacocks to justify why the removal of the Peacock Throne was significant to the Burmese. It represents Krishna. It means wisdom. IT IS THE MUGHAL THRONE.

And Peacock Throne showed up, in Wikipedia. Remarkable.

Mughal paintings used to be my forte. Amongst them, this is one of my favourite - the Peafowl. I wrote a 8,000 word research paper on these paintings. The peafowl shown here is no larger than A5 (half an A4). The brush strokes are remarkable. Gentle, compared to the stiff brush strokes during Akbari reign. The golden colours are made by grinding gold into powder. The brush tip is no thicker than one strand of horses' hair. And only well-fed horses, specially bred for the brushes, are used. The blue is extracted from sapphires and sometimes deep-sea organisms ground or blended with chemicals. Of course you can't see it from here. Go to Cleveland Museum, you might see some. Most mughal paintings are spam-cheats. Look closely. Every strand of the peacock's feather's fuzz CAN BE SEEN. It sounds ridiculous but it's true. Painful effort.

The painters are brought to where the Mughal king hunts for leisure. He would then ask the painters to paint either the scenery or himself. If any does an unsatisfactory job, he's dismissed. Jahangiri paintings are the finest, in my opinion. They are easily distinguished by their beautiful borders. Not stiff, like Akbari. Not repetitive, like Shah Jahani. Just nicely done. The best of mughal miniatures.


Is it Ustad Mansur? He paints the most brilliant of naturalism.

Burma

"Hey girl! Come here!" My teacher signalled to me. "Are you from Myanmar?" He asked. That was in 2008 January. I was running a camp, running along the track rushing to somewhere.

Writing on Burma brings me lots of memories. As if I've been in Burma. As if I've always been living next to Burma. I've watched the Burmese Harp, a war film produced from the Japanese point of view of the Pacific War. I've heard the term, Shwae Daung. Is it Sanskrit? I don't know. I've even seen the script written in either Sanskrit or Tibetan. I live through those battles Burma had fought with Assam, Manipur and Nagaland. I've seen the Burmese monks clad in maroon robes. I've seen General Aung San fighting for independence, for the Anti-Fascist People's Freedom League (AFPFL).

I have, alas, studied at the school his daughter, Aung San Suu Kyi, studied in. Lady Shri Ram College.

I know of the Burmese Constitution in 1937 which finally separates Burma and India after a forced union by the British in 1885. They have always been apart. I know very well why Winston Churchill, the War Cabinet Prime Minister of Britain, produced that White Paper. I also know why Clement Attlee signed the pact with Aung San promising independence. The former's so aggressive and conservative, the latter reasonable and leftist. It feels like I've lived through World War II with Churchill putting up a front all day having to fight the Germans and win.

The Burmese temples. Have I seen them somewhere? Don't they look alike to the Hindu tower entrance, the circum-ambulation belt of each temple, the stones that last forever? The Burmese drinks tea, and make a big affair out of it. Of course, they are so near to Assam; they need to prove that their tea is better! The North Indians drink their tea in a small 60ml cup, the Southeast Asians drink tea in a very large mug 150ml. And the Burmese - just in between. A medium, 100ml. And I know how it tastes just by looking at it.

And I haven't forgotten the Karen, the Chin, Kachin, and Shan people. Neither have I forgotten the Arakanese.

The Peacock Throne seized in 1885 by the British rings a bell to me. I feel infuriated; why did they take away that blessed throne? Why did they trample through the Shwedagon Pagoda with their boots? Why did they disregard the monks? U Ottama fought peacefully for independence, got imprisoned, and continued fighting. YMBA fought too.

Yesterday, I picked up a book I couldn't believe. "Secret Histories: Finding George Orwell in a Burmese Tea Shop." George Orwell was their prophet. His three books - Burmese Days, Animal Farm, and Nineteen Eighty-Four - was scripted into reality in Burma. For a splitting second, I recounted him. Somehow, I want to go to where he had been. He was one of those fighting like we are fighting. His heart beats like one of us. He died immersed in love for Burma.

I'm there in my dreams, I forget I'm a visitor, dressing, talking, eating like them, worshiping in the temple like them. I remember passing by that Stupa. I remember eating the thukpa with them. I remember their faces so vividly. I've seen the women in the fields planting rice, the buffaloes ploughing, the children playing.

Free Burma. Free Nagaland. Free Tibet.