Customer Service? What Customer Service?

Ever wondered how much patience you have?

A few recent events have convinced me that having survived growing up in KL, I sure have hell a lot of patience. Rude folks jumping queues, rude drivers jumping lanes, rude bus drivers hollering curses at rude drivers jumping lanes. Then you also have rude mamats (and sometimes dirty old men) who wolfwhistle, catcall and put simply, kacau, female passer-bys. I used to give the middle finger to these folks but later realized that scums are better ignored.

Nevertheless, when it comes to testing your patience, nothing beats taking a trip to the mall (KLites favourite pastime). Not only do you have to be prepared to spend at least half an hour hunting for a parking space (the experience beats even the most nauseating funfair ride) but you must also be prepared to deal with the ‘excellent’ customer service that most sales assistants in KL exhibit.

Be prepared to be greeted with faces that look ‘sour’ enough to pickle mangoes and make jeruk mangga. Be prepared to be ignored when you enter a store (posh outlets, el-cheapo hubs at Chee Cheong Kai - all the same). Be prepared to wait for sales assistants to finish their conversations on the mobile phone before asking "Do you have this in size 9?". And also be prepared communicate using only body language or hand gestures with cashiers (with long faces) who seem to have gone mute (saving saliva?).

I was at Sogo on Friday afternoon (Dec 30), looking for a pair of three-quarter pants at DIESEL. There were some piles of jeans on sale and not wanting to unfold and make a mess of each pile, I politely asked the sales assistant "Miss, three-quarter pants ada ka?”. She heard me and went to the back of the counter. I thought that she was going to show me a pair of three-quarter pants but to my horror, she actually went to get her mobile phone and started a rather animated conversation.

More than anything, I was just shocked and surprised at her audacity to ignore a customer's request and attended to a personal call during working hours. And even when she put her phone down, she continued to chat with another staff instead of getting me a pair of three-quarters!

$%*&^%.

Sad to say, this is not the first time that I've come across rude sales assistants. There are those who completely disregard you when you enter a shop, those who silently tail you and quickly refold everything you touch (like hello, are you chasing me out?). Having shopped overseas, I cannot help but feeling very much embarrassed by the poor customer service most shops in KL (cant speak for other states because I have lived in KL pretty much all my life) offer.

Managers, is it THAT difficult to train your staff to say ”Hello, how may I help you today?” and "Thank you for coming” ?

Sales assistants, is it THAT difficult to be courteous to customers and serve as how you would like to be served?

the Shining Examples:

Giordano (esp Giordano One Utama – Old Wing)

The Body Shop (genuine smiles, customer well-greeted)

Sogo Somerset Bay (friendly kakak cleared the staff store room to be used as additional fitting room)

TGI Fridays One Utama (esp this waiter Eugene who was working there on Christmas Day)

Tangoo One-Utama (excellent PR)

the Boo-Boos

Sogo DIESEL counter (case above)

Guardian Pharmacy KL Sentral (it was not a busy day AT ALL but cashier ordered customer to letak balik empty baskets to front of the shop. L.A.Z.Y.)

MNG allstores (grouchy and sulky sales assistants esp those guarding the fitting rooms)

GUESS Lot10 (you ignored me when I was bloody serious about buying that bag)

Intrakota and Metrobus drivers and operators (made passengers change buses halfway through journey)

'Four Million Yet To Register' (and one of them is me)

Hold your attention folks. Apparently, some four million Malaysians who have blown, cut and eaten their 21st birthday cakes have yet to register as voters. Procrastination, not knowing where and how to register and general indifference towards who runs the country are some of the reasons cited for not having registered.


Having turned 21 this year, I of course jumped on my defenses when hearing the news; the next Pilihanraya is a freaking three years away, why make a big fuss about people not registering now? Malaysians would wait till the last days of 2005 to apply for MyKad (after being nagged about it since 2003) so what makes you think that things would be different when it comes to registering as voters?


Nevertheless, the report does reveal some important facts that could help all political parties devise a strategic campaign for the next election. One was that these four million eligible voters (assuming all possess the civic consciousness to go out and pangkah) actually hold the capacity to shift the country’s ruling powers. Two was that about a third of the four million is plopped in the age group of thirty and below.


(Gasp. That’s you and me!)


Why are we not feeling all excited about registering as voters? I always see Pilihanraya as a fun-filled national event. Don’t you find them all fancy; the meet-and-greet sessions (wakil rakyat, not AF idols), the poster war (when you can see a rocket flying higher than the moon), the poison letters that stuff our mailbox when voting day draws nearer?


But like I mentioned earlier, there is little sense of urgency here and us being Malaysians, we do not usually feel the urgency to do anything more than 72 hours before the deadline. Plus, registering would be less of a hassle when the election fever hits its highest temperature and you see BN trucks transporting SPR officials even to the rural-most areas to make registering as easy as possible.


Back to the report of the missing four million. I wonder why some of us refuse to vote? Having the eligibility to vote is one of the most important privileges of being a citizen of a country. So why not have your say? Perhaps those who do not see the significance of their individual votes have the impression that their vote will not make a difference. A single voice drowns in the majority. But what if everyone begins to think that way? What if the people who bother to go mengundi are just politicians and their party members (because they ALWAYS believe that they could make a difference)?


Holding a Malaysian passport and a Malaysian ID, I hold on dearly to my rights as a legitimate citizen of this country and that includes my right to vote. I may not have registered but I know that when Pilihanraya comes to town, I damn sure want to be part of it.


And I've already started polishing my pangkah-memangkah skills. Hehe.

Jazz It With Double Take

While many of us think that the local entertainment industry has long gone frozen, once in a while somebody/something comes along and melts a fraction of that ice. Jac Victor, Adibah Noor, Bernard Chauly, The Actor's Studio (and the who's-who behind it e.g Jit Murad, Jo Kukathas), Sepet, reruns of P.Ramlee movies on Astro Ria and heck, even Siti Nurhaliza (I HEARD that).

And on the list I would add Mia Palencia, the pretty lass from KK who has been jazzing around KL for several years now. I have been listening to Mia since my IPBA days - was introduced to her by my KK friends - but only fell in love with her deep satin voice when I bunked in at Nette's place (a big fan and an ex-school mate of Mia herself) in Auckland recently. So when I heard of her Double Take concert, I knew I had to be there.

And am I glad I did. Together with local guitarist Roger Wang, who is also from KK (apparently Sabah is a rich pool of local talents - remember Linda from AF2?), Mia Palencia sang out a memorable night for local jazz fans. The stadium was barely filled (jazz has yet to reach the KL masses I guess) but for those who were there, we were pretty sure that her next concert is one that is not to be missed.

But judging from the increasing number of jazz clubs and bars in KL, I suppose the genre is slowly making its way here. The Oasis opens recently at Bangsar, (near Bangsar Village) and so does The Cotton Club at Maju Junction. Both plays live jazz on the weekends. A few other places like Alexis Bistro and La Bodega have been supporting local jazz acts for years, providing a platform for homegrown jazz musicians to share their talents with others.

Though not a mainstream genre, jazz would probably continue to grow in Msia. It has always been associated with the high culture and spoken about with a degree of sophistication (which is an irony, considering that jazz actually started among slave workers). This itself has drawn the attention of the young urban crowd - especially those who had recieved overseas education - who are constantly on the lookout for everything cool and cultured. And for club retirees like me (and I'm only 21!), jazz bars certainly provide a more attractive alternative to the overrated Zouk.

"So...got boyfriend already ah?"

Things cannot be any more hilarious. Three weeks of being back home and I have had not one, not two, but a string of people asking me, "So, got boyfriend already ah?". If I had satu ringgit for each time someone makes an enquiry about my relationship status, I would be hogging so so many pairs of new shoes by now.

The pressure continues to mount as I met up with old friends, most of whom are already in serious relationships. "All of your cousins have partners sudah," Mae remarked recently, in a post-balik kampung gossip session. There was a slight hint of "I-wonder-what's-wrong-my-children" there, which I perfectly understand as both of my bros and I have yet to invite anyone to meet our parents. As I went on reassuring Mae of my preference to have relationships with dresses and shoes, I could not help pondering, for women in our supposedly open society today, does settling down still matter more than anything?

Government service in Malaysia? Adoi...!

Oops they did it again. This time, it was almost like a case of harapkan pagar, pagar makan padi. The Malaysian police department, already notorious for indulging in bribery, lack of discipline, failure to respond timely to emergencies and a string of other criticisms again came under attack recently, thanks to a Peeping Tom who captured a video of a naked female Chinese nationale being forced to do the ketuk ketampi (note: suddenly I am reminded of a certain Cikgu Saadan...) by a policewoman.

The news have been served in generous proportions by local TV stations so I might as well just save you the details. Suffice for me to say that it is a case of pagar makan padi because the police force is supposed to provide help for those in need. When you have a foreigner without proper travelling documents, you either help them get one or you help send them back home. All in dignity.

You do not however, have the power to punish, except against your own kids. My father was a tax payer until he retired last August and now that my elder brother has started working, he too, has started to chip in towards the smart schools, the never-ending road works, the government DeepaRaya open houses and certainly, the police force. But like all other tax payers, we never bestowed anyone donning the blue uniform to treat other human beings in such a humiliating manner.

As usual, the big shots all echoed "We will get to the bottom of this" when probed by the media. Slightly overused, dont you think? The thing with us Malaysians is that the bottom is always too deep that we never get to the bottom of anything. Give this issue another few weeks and it will likely to just fade off. Kes ditutup.

Criticisms are difficult to swallow and the government sector in Malaysia (the police and armed forces included) has come under so much criticism that it is a wonder no one has choked to death. Poor customer service, lackadaisical work attitude and the tendency to ping-pong visitors from one department to another are just some of the public's most common grouses. Mind you, the same complaints have been around for ages; from the time Samyvellu looked like a movie star until now, when he looks like, err, something else.

The point is, rather than the criticisms being taken constructively, they get sucked into the vacuum (with more Malaysian children being asthmatic, vacuuming has replaced sweeping) and preserved for the years to come. Then when the complaints reach Pak Lah and he coughs out a comment or two, a nationwide campaign is suddenly launched (another hole where your tax money is poured into). Little badges bearing Saya Anti Rasuah are passed around and Mawi of AF2 will probably get invited to sing the theme song, which RTM will probably play over and over again until a new campaign is lauched.

Having signed a contract with MOE three years ago, my distant future lies within the Government service as well. It does not worry me as much, the fact that the slim pay will probably force me to still live with my parents till I am thirty-five, as the fact that the quality of the services provided by Government servants are limping below expectations. I wonder what kind of environment will I be working in later? The industrious champions... or the tidak apa laidbacks?

Making Room for Changes

It is the Friday night that you have been waiting for. Your girlfriends have made plans for a wicked night in town and everyone was looking forward to catch up with one another. You come home early from work to give yourself ample time to prep up; the last time you met your girlfriends everyone looked a million bucks. You certainly need to look equally, if not more, fabulous this time around.

But you peel your wardrobe door open and a sudden panic rush attacks. Hung carelessly on the wooden hangers are dresses from last decade, off-season tops you grabbed at a warehouse clearance,skirts and jeans which have gone past their expiry date and ridiculously dangerous pieces like leather minis and skin tight pants which may actually look good if you were thirty pounds lighter. Stacked on the top shelf are boxes of even more ridiculously dangerous heels and boots, each having seen daylight on an average of twice. By the time you finish assessing your accessories and handbags, you have speed-dialled your best girlfriend, screaming "Help!I've got absolutely nothing to wear!"

This is a classic, all-too familiar scenario for many women. We may have hundreds of dresses taking up too much space in our already bulging wardrobe, yet putting together an outfit is often an agonizing experience. The problem stems not from lack of choice, but rather, from a mismatched collection of bad choices. What we need then, is not an emergency shopping trip but rather, a weekend of a major wardrobe overhaul.

The secret to a successful wardrobe makeover lies in knowing what to horde and what to part with. Have you already got too many white shirts? Have you got twenty three pieces of similarly-designed logo tees? When was the last time you wore that pink dress with the plunging neckline? (In the first place, have you actually worn it?)
Sort the items into two sections; those which you are willing to part with and those which you would rather tear your hair off than to give away. The rule is simple; anything that you have not worn in the last twelve months (okay, maybe six, if you have THAT many clothes) should go into the "Give Away" bin. Same goes for items which, how should I put it, have "miraculously shrunk", (therefore seem a little tight around the waist and a little small around the bottom). Remember, even if you lose those inces in the future, you are more likely to buy new clothes than to go back to that old Levi's you bought when you were eighteen.

Sienna Miller may have elevated the status of vintage dressing, but we all know that very few of us can pull off the vintage queen look without being mistaken for a fashion victim lost in time. Think that floral dress would be a sought-after vintage piece in another twenty years? Think again. Most vintage-inspired pieces have a modern twist to it, designers do not merely recreate trends of yesteryears but combine them with the trends of the present day.

Designer goods, however, are worth keeping. A Channel suit bought in the early 80s hold as much value, if not more, as a Channel suit bought last winter. Unlike average labels, the value of authentic designer creations tend to increase with time, especially when you have people like Ms Miller donning vintage oversized sunnies and carrying vintage LV purses. In the trend-conscious and trend-competitive world of Hollywood where everyone HAS to get that Birkin bag by hook or by crook, many are more than willing to pay big money for a vintage designer item that has been certified as a 'must have' by Vogue. It is important however, to have a proper storage plan for these items. Unless you want to risk smelling of mothballs, keep your designer dresses in individual bags and send them for dry cleaning at least once in a year. Needless to say, collecting designer goods is not exactly the hobby for those who cannot even bring themselves to doing their laundry on a weekly basis.

Having cleared your wardrobe clean of past retail mistakes and wrong impulse purchases, you are now ready to move on to the next step; the more fun and more challenging side of wardrobe makeover: shopping. But bear in mind that a fabulous wardrobe (think Carrie Bradshaw and her sorority sisters) is seldom created overnight. Slowly and carefully sift through magazines to find the style that you would want to create. Try to stay away from impulse purchases. Invest instead in pieces that would go well with what you already have in your wardrobe. The whole process should some take time so have plenty of patience handy!

Looking back ... With a Smile =)

It's all done. My second semester is all wrapped up and I am mere hours away from returning to the familiarity that is home. My stay in Brisbane has been absolutely fabulous - the places I have visited, the people I have met and the lessons I have picked up along the way all melt together to create one beautiful memory that is likely to stay in my mind for a long time.

To all my girlfriends/buddies/kakis in Brisbane; have a splendid summer ahead.

To those graduating and NOT returning to Brisbane next sem; go rock the 'real' world (hehe).

To everyone else; happy hols

Window Shopping: No Pain No Gain

Having submitted my last assignment for the semester, my days have suddenly began to feel longer. I have done everything possible to kill time; cleaning the fridge, dusting my window blinds, writing postcards to myself. Yet, I still feel like another eight hours have been added to the usual twenty-four. In the event of such boredom, I do what every fashion lover on tight budget does best; I window shop. I would visit my favourite stores, checking out what is latest, staring longingly at the mannequins on display. I could spend hours scrutinizing the different materials, the different cuts and the ways different pieces are put together to create a brilliant ensemble. It is through such experience that I slowly build my fashion resources.


But the frustration of window shopping could sometimes be overwhelming. How many times have we found that perfect dress, in that perfect shade and that even more perfect size (an added bonus would be when it fits snuggly around the bust and seems to accentuate our assets) only to flick on the price tag and boo hoo hoo, the triple digit tag simply screams 'not affordable, unless you are willing to starve for two weeks'.

For someone who wishes to have a decent university life (read: clean accomodation, 'real' regular meals), I know that even the paypackets from my two part-time jobs are only thick enough to allow for the occasional rich indulgences. I do allow myself small purchases but with the dream of touring the Europe keep on looming above my head even as I roll the kebabs and do the take-away orders, designer and branded items have to be reserved as semesterly treats.



Pic: The ultimate Louis Vuitton Manhattan PM that could almost buy me a return ticket to London

Unlike the Hilton, Olsen and other sisters with similarly ever-expanding income, the majority of us could barely invest in a Louis Vuitton without having to save up six months in prior (or for the bolder chicks, skimp six months after). And unlike Them The Privileged Ones too, the majority of us have rent and bills inconveniently standing in between us and the seen-it-on-SATC-Manolo Blahniks. The temptation to fish out the Mastercard and make one happy swipe is difficult to resist but the thought of my father even more happily snipping the plastic into two is often enough to bring me to my senses.

So with such traumatizing pain, why still window shop? I know of a handful of people who find window shopping completely time-wasting. It is the middle of the month and your purse is drier than the damns in Kuala Selangor during the draught season. Why further torment yourself with more retail cravings? While people like me make enough visits to the mall to know which floor has the best washroom, there are those whose number of shopping trip in a year could be counted by the fingers. "I dont shop often, but when I do, I just grab whatever I like, regardless of the price," confessed one non-believer of window shopping.

As thrilling as it may sound (imagine, walking into AX and not having to put your inner-shopaholic self in restraining order), somehow the idea of squeezing my weekly store visits into a seasonal event does not seem so appealing. Yes, it is difficult having to walk out of my favourite store sans a purchase but at least the frequent trips help to inform me of what is in, what is current, what looks good and what looks trash. It helps to ensure that I do not blow a week's pay on a supposedly-very-Sienna ensemble only to go home and realize that the boho maiden look is not exactly me. Regular window-shopping sessions also mean that I have the most current and updated information on fashion bargains at my fingertip. Believe me, when you have swiped on a pair of very sexy, very expensive heels, you would not want to walk into the store next door to see a very similar pair priced at very much less.

With the growing number of shopping malls in the relatively small city of Kuala Lumpur, one seldom has to wonder how much us KL-ites love window shopping. It has become almost a culture; to head down to giga-sized shopping malls on the weekends and to hold our breath as we stop in front of Tiffany & Co, joyous that the quest for the perfect wedding ring is over (so now we just have to search for the perfect groom).

And as for me, I am convinced that window-shopping shall continue to help fill the daily extra eight hours that I have until summer vacation is over. The need for retail indulgences is strong yet there is a strict budget I have disciplined myself to live on, so what better way to feed the retail hunger without placing a hazard on my financial situation?

Free ride to the mall? Anytime babes.

Auckland

Things/places to do/see/visit in Auckland~

(A soul-searching, independent trip which hopefully, would make me a better traveller - great prep for my grand tour next year =P . KJ take note!)

Auckland Musuem - Howick Historical Village - Mission Bay - Sheepworld (?) - One Tree Hill - New Market - Victoria Market - Mt Eden - SkyCity - Harbour Bridge - Waiheke Island...

~One travels far to find peace to return home to find it~Anonymous

Two days down. Only another twelve to go. Would I have enough time/energy/money to see everything that needs to be seen?

Go Trish. Great travellers of all time have faith in their map-reading powers. Take the plunge and snap enough memories to last a lifetime.

But dang, I miss YOUR gelak tawa so very much. Hope you get to read this.(Whomever you might be.)

Confessions Part 1: OverIndulgence

Thursday, Oct 13, Iced chocolate at Gloria Jeans with KJ

Friday, Oct 14, Dark fruit cake at home (with my sinful self)

Sunday, Oct 16, White+Dark Choc Mousse at Freestyle with Ralph

Monday, Oct 17, Strawberry swiss roll (again, with my sinful self)

Tuesday, Oct 18, Strawberry shake at CoffeeClub with Feroz

Wednesday, Oct 19, Caramell shake at Royal Albert's (or what was it again?) with Body

Aiyo ma...

Ini macam...bila mau dapat itu washboard abs...

Love (not) Within Reach?

I first experienced the feeling of being in love when I was about eight years old. He was in the class next to mine and he was the kind of boy that steals girls’ hearts only to break them later. He had spiky hair, tanned skin, bad ass attitude and the most dazzling smile. I started having a crush on him the first day I saw him fighting over a swing at the school playground but fate finally brought us together when we were chosen to be part of this year-end mini drama, in which I was chosen to play a mother and him, my son. I wanted so badly to protest to this unromantic role (why could not I play a distressed princess trapped under the claws of an evil stepmother instead?) but decided not to as chances are, my teachers would never rewrite the script. They would rewrite me and I may end up sitting among the audience. Our relationship bloomed during the many practices and I remember vaguely sitting down waiting for the school bus after practice, chocolate and strawberry ice-cream melting in our hands.

He never confessed his love to me and I never did mine but deep down inside, I knew that we had something. Unfortunately, the greatest love of all time was abruptly cut short when we both got transferred to another school. My dad bought a house in a different neighbourhood and him, well, I don’t exactly know what happened to him. All I knew was that the last time I saw him was when my Dad and I went to the school office to get the transfer form and he was there as well, with his mother. We looked at each other and smiled, never saying a word but only ‘goodbye’.

Saying goodbye is never easy, especially so when the person you are saying goodbye to is someone you love. When your partner has to move out of town, go to university, get a job in a different state or simply “has to go”, your heart so much wants to believe that the physical separation should not end the relationship. I once believed so as well. It puzzled me why people made a big fuss about being separated with a loved one. I thought that when you are in love, your hearts connect in a way that not even distance could break it.

Well, I suppose I thought wrong. When two people are in love, their hearts do connect but this connection is so fragile that when it is faced with distance and separation, it could just easily bend and break. Someone once said absence makes the hearts fonder but everyone so easily forgets the fact that absence hurts. It hurts when you are left alone with phone calls being the only form of communication between you and your partner and it hurts when you wake up in the next three months realizing how lonely life has gotten to be…

I am not sure if I have turned into a complete skeptic when it comes to long-distance romance. Is it still possible to keep the passion alive when you are separated by continents?


….to be continued.

Things You've Said

There are things you’ve said to me
That sound like Church bells on Sundays
That taste like unflavored fresh milk
That smells like medicine
That feels like Grandma’s warm jacket

There are things you’ve said to me
That are preachy
But are right
That are stale
But are right
That are rotten
But are right
That are embarrassing
But are right
In the end, you are right

Again, like always
There are things you’ve said to me
That are always right.

You Are Beautiful (not to be confused with James Blunt's)

(something that was squeezed out during Writing Workshop today...)

You are beautiful

And especially so when you're drunken mad

The way you bang on my door

They way you sway your hips and lift your arms

And smash the crystal vase on the floor

The way you scream and yell at me

And did not even care if the neighbours hear

The way you throw up on my white-tiled bathroom

And trip and knock yourself out

And as you lie there calling my name

And you say that you love me

I know that you are beautiful, at least to me...

Supergirl In Action

I have been living on a supergirl mode for quite a few weeks now. There has never been a day since the beginning of the semester that I had had a DND (Doing Nothing Day). Between moving classes, researching on assignments, preparing for presentations, wrapping kebabs, waitressing and attending not-to-be-missed social affairs, I barely even have the time to do my nails.

I finally had some time off last weekend and boy, did it feel good watching a whole season of Sex and The City at one go. Still, being the multitasking elf I am, I spring-cleaned my room, sorted my laundry and got rid of all things unsightly from the fridge while listening to Carrie whining away about her sex life.

But I’m not complaining though. Having my diary filled with Uni and work and other obligations means that my days are pretty much occupied – which means I am faced with less of those ‘lonely moments’ when images of home and loved ones back home seem to repeat themselves in my mind. And time does pass more quickly when you have plenty of things in your hands.

Getting a job has not only kept my days filled, but it has also changed my spending habits. Ironically, I am spending less on The Unecessaries – a positive sign of compulsive shopping habit in treatment. My European tour le’grande has become my strongest motivation and it makes me feel good seeing those digits growing =)

But then again, no girl should deny herself those small, harmless pleasures. Especially SuperGirls like me hehe. Like the fabulous ala’ Carrie Bradshaw purple clutch I found at a bargain today. It would have been a crime to my wardrobe to have refused it. Anyway, I always believe that all money-saving efforts necessitate the occasional ‘fuel-injection’ purchases…

So there, I am a happy lark today. Me, a Supergirl and my purple Carrie Bradshaw clutch

Life's Little Pleasures

I had a rather interesting conversation recently with a friend of mine. We were talking about life and its little (and inexpensive) pleasures. The conversation made me think; it's true what people say after all, that the best things in life are actually free.

Sawi's/Trish's (pick which ever u like) List of Life's Simple Pleasures

- sunshine in april

- smell of freshly cut grass

- a smile from a stranger

- sounds of the ocean

- black and white photographs

- dating under the moonlite (hopeless romantic, i know but it really is a pleasure)

- family reunion dinners

- sand beneath the feet

- children

- goss session with Mom in the kitchen

- long walks in spring

- dancing to old school jazz

- loyal girlfriends

- fond memories of the past.

and

- everything else that makes you smile.

proud to be potter free

Proud to be Potter-free
Before anyone starts asking me the question again, let me just save you the inconvenience and tell you right away that no, I am not a Harry Potter fan, I have read only two of the series (one by choice, the other by force) and therefore no, I do not know anything about the latest shit that the Hogwarts brats have gotten themselves into. And no, I do not know anything about the death of an important character in this sixth extension of the Potter series.

What I do know is that JK Rowling now tops the list of the richest people in the UK.

I once actually thought of Harry Potter as a good read. I remember getting hold of the book for the first time when I was fourteen and thought that the book offered something fresh and innovative. Many authors have tried writing along the fantasy/magical genre but few managed to break through the critical market of children's and young adult’s. In fact, JK Rowling was turned down many times before getting Harry Potter published. So I had great faith in the book. Along with a small group of other people who was aware of the existence of Harry Potter & Co. at that time, I actually enjoyed reading the first book.

Then the movie came out. Big mistake. Potter mania hit the country and the kids at the child development centre where I was working at were suddenly adding Harry Potter to their list of “favourite superheroes”. All of a sudden, Superman and Spiderman and Batman and other heroes in spandex were reduced to being “childhood heroes”; their popularity limited to the very young ones who would eventually grow up and shift their admiration towards the hippier, cooler and more age-appropriate Harry Potter.

Potterism soon flooded the world. There were the movies, the video games, the CDRoms, the PS2 games, the websites, the apparel, the household items and a whole collection of Potter paraphernalia. It was also not until then that there was a sudden overflow of readers proclaiming to be ardent fans of Harry Potter. Bookstores began stocking up on Potter books and later, recognizing the immense popularity the series have gained, even organized special launching sessions and other Potter-promoting activities. Rowling was indeed happily counting the cash all the way to the bank.

I then stopped reading Harry Potter. It was getting too mainstreamed, too heavily publicized and too common. Everyone was reading it and talking about it, so what is there left for me to discover? The series were reviewed and commented by so many experts that they basically just shredded the work into pieces.

Thinking that perhaps I had been unjustly biased towards the series, I decided to give Rowling another chance and picked up Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban. The magical adventures (and misadventures) kept me reading but the impact disappeared right as soon as I finished the final page. There was no “Wow!” kind of feeling that I usually get after reading a good novel. Interestingly, I find Harry very much similar to my past crushes; they seem initially cute and interesting but eventually forgettable.

So please, don’t ask me again if I am into Harry Potter. I am into witchcraft and spells and love potions and broomsticks but Potterism is just not on the list.

Tickets to Hogwarts?

I’ll pass, thanks.