Of Dolls Dominating, friends popping and what is it with all these irresponsible parents?

Obviously heavily airbrushed poster of the Dolls. Don't tell me they don't have any cellulite at all....

The Dolls are back. Just when we thought they’re splitting up after Nicole’s solo hits like Baby Love doing so well in the charts. I didn’t buy the Malaysia Edition of the CD because usually this edition disappoints me as there are just way too much sensored words, as if all listeners are primary three children. 

So,  I bought the special edition with bonus tracks CD consisting of songs by the rest of the Dolls.

Aaaah….  finally these Dolls enrolled themselves in vocal classes. Each Doll was given the chance to record one song. However, IMHO they’re a bunch of disappointment. Jessica’s voice sounded so artificial; heavily computer enhanced while Kimberly’s made me wish that she never sang. There’s this annoying, screeching pitch she has that my ears just don’t approve. The song is forgettable too.

The biggest disappointment was Melody. Despite her being the cutest, sexiest and most loved by men, I hated her voice and singing so much I only listened to her song half way through. The only promising one is Ashley; easy on the ears and she sounds so professional. Her number is a slow one, entitled Played which sounds damn familiar but I couldn’t be sure whether it was a remake.

As for the songs in CD1, they’re really great, especially the Dolls’ collaboration with big names such as Snoop Dogg, Missy Elliott and R. Kelly. I don’t know whether it’s me or Missy but I think all her songs are just brilliant. Her collaboration with Janet in her Discipline album is also a great one. Whatcha Think About That is my choice for the best track in this Doll Domination Album.

 

All in all, I’m giving 3 out of 5 stars. Why I bought the album in the first place? I needed fresh songs for my cardio sessions at the gym, otherwise I won’t be parting with my precious 58 ringgit  that easily.

 

 

I couldn’t remember anything weird or special happening to the universe in January 2008; I don’t think there was any prominent comet passing by our atmosphere, but one thing for sure 9 months later many of my friends found themselves in the delivery rooms.

One of them is Alien, who gave birth to a healthy and very active 3.8kg baby boy on Tuesday through C-sect.

Alien, Guess, Queen and me at Alien's open house on Sunday. 

On Thursday morning, another friend, Zue gave birth to a baby girl also through C-sect at the same hospital and placed in a room near Alien’s. How funny, we used to be lunch buddies back during the PKNS days and this week they’re next door neighbors in that hospital.

 

Next week will be Mrs. B’s turn to go under the knives for another C-sect. We went for very long lunch at Shogun on Tuesday to celebrate her last week as a free human being - before going into confinement next Friday. Well, the truth is, I started realizing how valuable my freedom was when I had to go through my first confinement after Wazif’s birth.

Mrs S (left) and Mrs B (right) enjoying piles of Japanese and Western food at Shogun, Sunway Pyramid. 

My heavenly tempura. Crunchy but not oily. Loved them. 

 

There are 2 more friends due to deliver their babies before end of October. Definitely something must have happened in January this year to cause all this sudden growth of world population this month.

 

 

On Wednesday afternoon I went to visit Alien and her baby at the hospital and drove back to the office with baby scents still vivid in my mind. There’s this thing with babies, once you’ve touched and held them it’s very difficult to wipe their faces and sweet smell off your memories. I felt good the whole afternoon, went to gym with a new spirit and later rushed home to fetch the boys.

 

It was drizzling when I arrived at the day care some time around 7.15pm. The boys were already bathed and changed into fresh cloths. Both were happily chanting what they wanted to eat for dinner while I was busy texting one of my staffs who was admitted to hospital. As I made a turning heading towards my house I saw a police and a reporter’s car parked at the T-junction I was approaching. I am usually not that ‘cakna’ towards the happenings around me even in our own neighborhood.  

However, that evening my heart told me that something bad must have happened. If the police was only making their usual rounds, then why did they need to have reporters accompanying them? I stopped my car, wound down the passenger side window and asked one of the reporters what was going on.

 

The young female reporter from a surat khabar yang sangat ‘cakna’ told me that a baby was found abandoned on the hills in front of our house. Without blinking and thinking I asked whether the baby was found alive. She told me the baby was dead. By then both Wazif and Shawqi started asking in a chorus, ‘Where’s the baby? Where’s the baby?’

Afraid that both of them would jump out of the car to join the police and reporters, I quickly thanked the ‘cakna’  lady and drove straight home.

 

On Thursday morning, after dropping the boys at the day care I made a stop at the nearest 7-eleven to get a copy of the ‘cakna’ newspaper. I flipped through the pages in search of the only news I wanted to read that day and when I finally found it, I felt my heart was ripped and torn into pieces. The poor baby was found by one of the Indonesian living in a nearby kongsi who used the hilly path as a short cut to the grocery store. His wife was the only women living in the kongsi and I doubt the baby is theirs if he’s so willingly answered the police’s and reporters’ questions.

 

The baby was buried in very shallow grave that the Indonesian man could recognize the head and hair even in the late afternoon light, when he first noticed it. The news also reported that blood spots were visible on the poor baby’s stomach but didn’t confirm whether they’re caused by physical injuries.

I kept on asking myself; how we dare calling ourselves a developing nation if some of us don’t even appreciate life. If only the baby girl was given a chance to live in 7 years’ time she might be happily board the school bus with her friends and later in the evening comes home with her joyful laughs, telling the parents funny riddles or even sick jokes about Posh Spice. Or maybe in 15 years’ time she’ll be the one pushing the father’s wheelchair if he’s too sick to walk. Or maybe in 55 years’ time she’s the Prime Minister that all Malaysians have been waiting and praying for. Just maybe…. Maybe…. If only she was given the chance to live. 

Now we can only pray that she’ll be greeting us with her bright eyes and wide smile in heaven.