Worst heat wave ever

This has got to be the worst heat wave ever in Malaysia. The other night I almost dropped my hot night dress in surprise. It didn’t make sense as I had yanked it off the clothes rack in my bedroom, not a sizzling kitchen grill.

I could feel the heat radiating off the walls upstairs. Perhaps it was because I had been away for a couple of hours after having turned off my tired old fans and bolted the windows tight against those damned burglars.

The heat was an unpleasant surprise for just a month ago I’d wake up to lovely cool air in the in the depths of Subang (I kid you not, it’s way cooler here than in PJ). Anyway, now I just start my day sweating like a very unladylike oink oink at the break of dawn.

You see, there are no air-conditioning units in my home (I’m a truly rare species…. okay, okay I’ve got fears of ending up with certain ailments but that’s another story) so there’s no room to seek shelter within the house.

So what do I do? Other than watering my plants who have it worse than me, twice a day, I have taken to drinking cumin water for its cooling effects. It is strange the things I get up to these days.

I have memories of my father gulping this down from the time I was a toddler until I was a working adult. I thot it was just another Kerala habit, never bothering to investigate the many benefits that lay behind this innocuous little brown spice.

Cumin, jerakum or jintan manis is something that can be easily bought at all stores in Malaysia. My mother used to fling half a teaspoon of it into a pot of water (about 3 glasses), boiling it until it turned a light yellow colour wihtin about 20 minutes. My friend (I’ve got to credit Mr Ramamurthy’s daughter for this) suggested I roast it for a few seconds before adding the water. It’s a lot more pungent, sending a sweet aromatic smell through my house. the process of making it is ridiculously simple.

Does it work? Yup, it certainly does as I feel cooler after downing a hot glass of it. Plus, it is said to help the digestive system which may be why I don’t feel so lethargic after meals these days.

It’s surprising how years later you find out that all those things the old folks used to eat, drink and grow in the garden had myriad health values. Take for instance the yoghurt mixed in with diced cucumber, giving it a really cooling effect, the yellow turmeric splattered into vegetables and curries which has cancer fighting properties and that much hated bitter gourd turns out to be an excellent preventive measure for diabetics.

Let’s not forget tulsi or holy basil, the revered plant found in most Hindu homes. You could pluck some of the leaves to rub onto your skin to cure certain skin diseases, swallow it whole to gain from its medicinal properties (but I believe you are not supposed to bite into it as it may have adverse effects), or even boil it. If consuming it does not appeal to you, just grow it in your garden as the old folks say it keeps negative energy away.

Coincidentally, one article that was circulating on the net says tulsi emits a remarkably strong positive aura. No matter what, it just makes me happy to see it sprouting all over my little garden. Passersby may think that I’m a Hari Krishna devotee but that doesn’t bother me. On days when I feel down, ten minutes near my lovely tulsi plants lifts my spirits high.


When I did my research on my cumin drink, I found a whole lot of other kitchen spices with medicinal properties. There’s coriander that can be boiled for my asthma, ginger to be thrown into dishes to reduce the “wind”, and the list goes on.


By the way, seems that you can do some “oil pulling” (sloshing the oil about for 20 minutes in your mouth) with that vegetable oil sitting pretty in your cabinet to rid of every ailment under the sun. Wanna give it a go?

Susan Boyle, the 47 year old lass

Susan Boyle, Susan Boyle. The world is agog with this Scottish “lass”. I use the term “lass” rather liberally.

Whilst the world marvels at her voice and debates on how soon her hairstyle, frocks and eyebrows are going to undergo a glitzy Hollywood style makeover, I wonder why no one has commented on the one thing that had caught my attention on that episode of Britain’s Got Talent.

Susan Boyle had no hang-ups about telling the world that she’s 47.

Didn’t that strike anyone else? I have a friend (who shall remain nameless, for I do value my life & she knows where I live), who has been 39+ for the past XXXXXX years.

Though, I’ve got to hand it to her; she’s done a good job of looking young, without the help of plastic surgery and layers of western make-up plastered on her face. Yet, some of us know that we (to be honest, that’s more me than anyone else) can make her life a living hell but just threatening to hand out a few obscure clues about her age.

She’s not the only one. There are women who would rather be shot than even give a clue to their age. Oh, sure, they will spew forth statements like, “I’ve been working in this industry for 10 years,” but God only knows if they started working in other industries during World War II.

Then you have American movies which really makes you think on the subject of age. The stories normally go something like this.


Gorgeous mature woman meets cash rich man. Woman claims to be 30. Asinine man is over the moon, marries her.

Ten years passes. She’s supposed to be 40. Then, surprise, surprise, he finds out she’s actually 60 (hmmm … what gave it away?). Oh, oh!

You’ll just have to imagine the man staggering with shock at this point and me left wondering how the hell anyone could pull that off. After all, over here, even the bank teller whom you’ve never laid eyes on before knows your age from your MyKad (Identification Card) number.

Why is it so difficult for people to accept their age? Of course there are times when my age bothers me. As an Indian female in Malaysia, some people may use different terms to address me in informal settings. This could be, “younger sister”, “sister”, “elder sister”, “mother”, “auntie” and for the really old – “grandma”.

That transition that I had to make from “younger sister” to “elder sister” was a little unsettling. From unsettling, it turned into a feeling somewhat like a mild electric shock when ten years later, I was addressed as “auntie”. Sigh!

Sigh, sigh, sigh!

On that first occasion, I just froze. My mind screamed, ““HUH? Who you calling aunite? Moron!”

Then as I stared with narrowed eyes at the person who had addressed me, it made sense. These young working adults were the same age as my college going nieces who called me Aunty non-stop. Time to wake up and smell the old roses!

So, Susan Boyle, you have my utmost respect. For going where no woman would venture. For standing in front of caustic Simon Cowell, whilst the world watched (and later more than 85 million views on the Internet) and declaring your age without apologizing or being even a tiny bit embarrassed about it.

I only hope Susan Boyle, that you’re for real and not some publicity stunt that was pulled to boost ratings.