Tengku Zafrul

The Idealists and the Apathetic

By Zafrul | July 20, 2008

I CALL them the idealists and the apathetic. Poles apart though they seem, there is only one major difference. The apathetic are the disillusioned idealists.

Having friends in both camps can be interesting. The first are all fired up with dreams of how to make things better. The second are simply marking time until they get away for good.

I was having a latte with some friends in Bangsar recently and, as usual, my good friend Bun was holding court.

“What we need is a neutral space. You know, one that is apolitical. Why shouldn’t an idea be judged on its merit? Why should it matter whether it comes from the government or the opposition?”

A brilliant guy who graduated from Cambridge, Bun is the proverbial rubber ball. The poet Dylan Thomas would have approved.

No matter how many times the system pushes him down for refusing to conform to its rules, he continues to bounce back and rage against the dying of the light.

Bun had put his finger on the frustration felt by a lot of us who simply wanted to get on with it. The local scene has become even more fragmented since the last elections.

Everyone is hypersensitive and you cannot open your mouth these days without being labelled as either a crony or anti-government.

Nazrin said: “People nowadays always look to see who is delivering the message rather than what the message actually is. Then they kill the messenger along with the message. Frankly, it’s all become so irrational, but that’s the reality.”

I agreed: “Precisely. If we are to move forward, we should lend support to the best ideas. I mean, who cares what your race, gender or political affiliation is? If you question the government, they say you must be opposition. And if you question the opposition, they say you must be a crony. Why can’t you question either as a Malaysian who is concerned about improvement that will benefit all?”

So much needless energy is spent in second-guessing a person’s political affiliation and trying to see “where he or she is coming from” — managing perception, wagging the dog, spin-doctoring — it all seems like an orchestrated movement of misinformation. How efficient is all this and how will spin-doctoring ever get the job done?

Real leaders, we agreed, consider all points of view objectively and respond rationally, rather than emotionally.

Some of the blogs don’t help.

While they are supposed to provide a space for open debate, what they actually do provide is a space for those who seem to have an axe to grind.

It seems a huge waste of potential. There’s a difference between constructive criticism and emotional outbursts.

What we need is a platform. There are plenty of young professionals who are not interested in politics, but who, on the other hand, do want to affect policy.

As Bun said, there are probably a 1,000 policies that could do with tweaking or improvement. He was all for coming up with a platform to contribute.

A week later, I was sharing these ideas with Sam. Sam sighed, shrugged and asked in his tired way: “Look, why bother? Nothing’s going to change.”

I chided him: “Come on, man, that’s the kind of attitude that keeps us from moving forward. Wouldn’t you like to be part of something that makes a difference?”

“Look Zaf, I’m so tired of being Sisyphus, OK? You guys just go ahead and I’ll watch from the sidelines.”

Sisyphus, for those of us without a Classical education, was condemned to push a rock up a mountain. Every time he made it to the top, the rock would roll down and he had to start all over again. He is the classic example of someone condemned to expend all his effort in a futile exercise for eternity.

Sam is no less brilliant than Bun. He graduated from the London School of Economics and was full of schemes and ideas to change the world when he came back.

The insistent stupidity of the large organisation he found himself a part of gradually eroded his confidence and energy.

He always looks defeated now. And no matter what we discuss, I rarely see that old spark of enthusiasm.

And I wondered how we could turn this into a country where the best and the brightest want to live because the environment is so stimulating and encourages creativity. How do we reverse the brain drain?

When I look at those like Sam (whom my good friend Bun affectionately refers to as the cop-outs), I see only their frustrated creativity that turned to apathy.

And I know that this depressing state of affairs is contagious. These were good, smart, educated, switch-ed-on people who could contribute tremendously towards nation building.

Instead, they were busy looking for ways to get out of this country and help build other nations.

What many people in power seem to miss is that contribution is more than politics or corporate social responsibility. It is a human need.

We all need to feel we are affecting our community and country in a positive way.

I think it’s this inability to feel like they’re making a difference, even more so than the lack of monetary rewards, that keeps our best and brightest heading for the nearest exit.

We need a new platform to create dynamic, passionate, motivated, values-based leaders, one that encourages learning, self-expression, contribution and direct involvement.

As of this writing, Bun and like-minded friends are busy trying to hammer out the details to create such a platform. And Sam has put in his papers to migrate.

The idealists and the apathetic: where do you fit in?

Topics: NST Articles | 6 Comments »

Crazy Days

By Zafrul | July 20, 2008

Talk about a crazy weekend! Yesterday I was up at six to be at the Mines by 6.30am for a game of golf with the King. OK, it’s not as glamorous as it sounds. I was part of the AirAsia team and we were playing the Agong’s team.

So I showed up looking nifty in my golfing ensemble (if I do say so myself, Caramel) and we only finished at 3 in the afternoon. My partner Zul (who is actually with AirAsia) and I came in 12th but we bagged a prize anyway.

The thing is, everyone walked away with a prize because the event was organised by AirAsia who maintains that now, everyone can fly, so I guess, now everyone can win at golf. Anyway, I am sure that some of the guys who brought home their prizes failed to mention this fact to their wives or girlfriends.

After the game, I jumped into my Camry to rush off to Port Dickson to register for the triathlon. On the way, I was stuck in traffic for more than half an hour when a large lorry blew its tyre in the middle of the road. It was about the only break I got. I relaxed and listened to music as the traffic inched forward.

Once I registered, it was a mad rush back to KL for my old friend Annuar Aziz’s wedding. This diehard fan of Star Wars was marrying his long time sweetheart Mariana Hashim. I only got back to PD at one in the morning, which was OK. After all, I only had to be up for the triathlon at six!

The triathlon itself was exhilarating. I missed out on the swimming again (OK, I know I said I would do it this time around, but I had an ear infection and the doctor told me to stay out of water for two weeks, at least). Of course my friends jeered saying I didn’t swim because I was chicken, but don’t let me get into the gory details of syringes and ear wax impaction…oh wait a minute, I just did.

You’d think after the triathlon I would be able to take a break but it was not to be. (Thanks Shazly for offering to take my bike home for me so I could come here directly) I had to rush back to KL for the shooting of The Firm 2. In case you didn’t know, I’m to be CEO for the final few episodes.

So here I am, at the local Starbucks (near where the shoot is taking place) sipping my hot chocolate and munching on my sausage and mayo sandwich, as I write this.

Adrian, the director, assures me we will be finished by 7.30, after which I will be rushing for dinner with the family at Jakes. If you think this is a nice relaxing end to my crazy weekend, think again.

I have futsal at 10, training for a football game on Tuesday against the MRSM alumni team.

And my day tomorrow begins at seven, with more shooting for The Firm 2. I’ll be back in the office at noon for my first not-to-be-postponed meeting of the day. After which, it will be business as usual.

Crazy days indeed!

But I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

Pictures to follow.

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When the going gets tough, the tough get tri-ing!

By Zafrul | July 11, 2008

I am addicted…last weekend I was at the Tasik Kenyir International triathlon for my second “relaxing” session. It was fun and exciting, all the more because this was the first time the Tune Racing Team - Shazly, Mervyn, Adzim, Azmar, Stupe and myself (the weakest link) -were competing. Just to let you know, the Kenyir event is the toughest triathlon in the country. Which means we all had a really good time and I’m looking forward to the next event in Port Dickson in the coming week.

The Tune Racing team…

After a hard day’s work….

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Conversations at the Kopi Tiam

By Zafrul | June 24, 2008

I’m writing this from a kopi tiam. I was chatting with the proprietor of this place about the fuel hike and he told me that some of his suppliers have increased their prices by up to 60 per cent. Which was surprising as fuel is an element of their cost, but not their entire cost.

“Surely, that’s a little extreme?” I observed.

He shrugged casually with the air of a man who is used to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and bustled off to get my order of toast and coffee. At least his prices have remained steady. When he came back we discussed this. The man, an accountant by training, looked worried:

“I’ve analysed the demographic around here. Most of these office workers are willing to spend about RM4 to RM5 on a meal. If I raise my prices by even 50 sen, they will stop coming. Have got to think of other ways…I’m interviewing people for the manager position. We need to promote this place, get the word out there, get sales up.”

I took note of his bright orange walls with cheerful bunches of flowers painted in. At least, this man was trying to be creative. Others were being pretty knee-jerk about it. Raising prices before the effects of the fuel hike even hit them.

A young Dane sitting at another table snorted in derision. “You people don’t know how easy you have it. You’ve got one of the lowest fuel prices in the world. You know in Europe I pay up to RM20 per litre? I don’t see what you guys are complaining about.”

I don’t think he was thinking this through. The concern was not only about the fuel hike but about the lack of mechanisms put into place to prevent profiteering. However, we chose to brush aside young Aragorn’s remarks, as he was clearly not Malaysian, and as such, not qualified to give an opinion.

There was another guy a few tables down frantically ringing his partners to tell them of a news item in a local daily. He was so excited that I couldn’t help overhearing: “It’s true, it’s true now private owners can own NGV stations. What do you think?” So, I guess he’s one of those mythical people we read about (but never actually meet) who sees the gift in every adversity. At least one person was happy about this situation.

I guess if I was looking for the silver lining here (other than the fact that we don’t live in Europe and have to pay RM20 per litre), it would be that Malaysian drivers have taken to staying at home, leaving the roads relatively traffic-free for the past few days. So the greenies must be secretly exulting. Clearer roads, cleaner air. I’m sure Al Gore will approve.

And everyone seems to have slowed down. The impatient Malaysian is finally easing his or her foot off the accelerator. Apparently, if you keep your speedometer at 80 kph or less, you consume less petrol. Who knew? Now I am frequently stuck behind some savvy driver, inching forward like a snail. Not good for my blood pressure, but hey it will probably reduce traffic accidents by 2.1 per cent or something.

However, driving slowly will only save you so much. With prices going up across the board (even the lowest grade eggs have gone from 28 sen to 31 sen), we’ll all have to take cultivate those virtues our parents taught us, but which we have cheerfully ignored, living in a land of plenty and abundance.

For instance, I think more people, especially new graduates, will cultivate culinary skills. Simply put, they’ll learn to cook. Or at least, how to make Maggi Mee. And maybe we’ll not be whipping out those credit cards quite so much. (financing charges and late charges are unpleasant additions to all other expenses). And we’ll be swapping our morning lattes for kopi susu at the local mamak. Or, to heck with it, just order a Nescafe panas from the tea lady at the office and chalk it up to “benefits”.

And maybe everyone will be learning how to manage their income. Horrible word, I know, and I cringe even saying it. But hey, if you learn all these boring things like “financing planning” now, you’ll probably be happier somewhere down the road. Or maybe not. After all, Oscar Wilde said that anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination.

Also, I think we don’t take enough advantage of the internet and the wealth of information available out there to compare prices and get the best deals possible. Maybe now, we’ll start.

And however miserable you may think you are, there’s definitely someone out there (with probably five kids to feed) whom this fuel hike has hit a lot harder, so maybe, instead of whinging, we can spare a thought for them and count our blessings.

I know I do.

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We Hear You!

By Zafrul | June 11, 2008

Hey guys! We’ve taken note of your comments and suggestions and changed our call centre number to 03-20928555. So now, you don’t have to pay premium call charges when you call us, and you can call the number from any line.

As we’re moving the call centre from Klang to our corporate office in Kuala Lumpur to serve you better, there will be a slight interruption in service. The new call centre (complete with new number) should be up and running by Friday morning.

In the meantime, please bear with us.

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Because you asked for it…

By Zafrul | June 6, 2008

Our TV commercial…

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Jom Heboh Day One and Launch of MYTV3 Tune Card

By Zafrul | June 4, 2008

Our booth…

Hard at work: Joyee and Peggy sign up a new customer…

Dhashing forward - our card operations manager doing her thang!

She doesn’t wear glasses, but our Nadia tends to be a little short sighted…see her bending over here to read the fine print.

Lai Hock and Ming See rolling up wire (I really don’t know why)

The Card! Isn’t it beautiful?

Amrin and I launching the card! He’s the handsome one on your left.

Cutting the cake - it’s in the shape of our card - and oh by the way, TV3 just turned 24, which means quarter decade next year.

Part of our insurance team - Joyee and Denise giving the universal peace sign. At least, I think it’s the universal peace sign.

Badrul and Chung Han, who showed up to lend support.

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Dogged Grit is What Counts, Finally…

By Zafrul | June 1, 2008

LIFE was circumscribed by an endless round of meetings, with me dropping off at three in the morning to wake up at six and start all over again. My stress levels were climbing and it wasn’t pretty. Having shareholders with high expectations didn’t help. I was talking to a bunch of youngsters about what it took to be a leader when one of them asked me what I did to de-stress. I thought about it for a while and said, “Sport.” She pressed further. I said, “Extreme sport.”

In fact, you could usually gauge what I was going through by the sport I got involved in. Usually, there would be squash, futsal and maybe a little golf in a week — challenging, but not too strenuous.

But extreme stress demands extreme countermeasures.

Which is why I signed up for the A Famosa Triathlon — a 1.5km swim in a rather muddy lake, 40km on the bike up and down hills and the final 10km on foot.

Even thinking about it made me feel tired. But my personal trainer, Shazly, thought it was just what I needed.

You see, I hate treadmills. You run and run and never get anywhere. The scenery never changes and there’s no one to measure yourself against.

Yes, the speedometer registers a number and after a half hour you’re supposed to have run so many kilometres, but essentially, there’s no sense of achievement.

Shazly invited me to join a group which was training for the triathlon. They were a bunch of professionals with tight schedules, who were also under extreme pressure at work. At one time, the group included Malakoff chief executive officer Ahmad Jauhari Yahya.

They met a few times a week to cycle some 20km at 5am or run 5km at 6am. If you think the training sounds daunting, you’re right. Our trainer pushed us to the limit and on the weekends, we actually measured ourselves against hills like Genting Sempah or Ulu Langat, going for longer distances — cycling 60km or running 20km.

Since I was one of the least fit in the group, the training really forced me out of my perceived limits. Shazly pushed me harder than I had ever been pushed before and I found my fitness level improving slowly.

Even so, I could not think of the upcoming triathlon without a sense of trepidation.

Although I consider myself reasonably fit for someone my age and make it a point to engage in some form of sport or exercise every week, it was nothing like the discipline required in training for a triathlon.

The morning of the race dawned bright and clear. I had only slept fitfully the night before, frequently jolting out of sleep with my heart racing, afraid I had overslept. I felt increasingly nervous, not knowing what to expect.

In the end I decided to be a part of the relay rather than the triathlon because my hectic schedule, which involved frequent trips overseas, had prevented me from training properly.

Besides, I was attempting to do in three months what takes others a year to train for. The truth is, I am not a good swimmer and dreaded the taste of the lake water.

Although being part of the relay involves choosing just one of the components (swimming, cycling or running) I opted to go for two — cycling and running. This time around, I would give swimming in the muddy stagnant waters a miss.

I greeted my swimmer, hoping he would be fast so I would not start off too far behind. Actually, he didn’t do too badly, coming in at about 100 and something in a race of 400, roughly the second quartile. Now it was up to me.

He handed over the rubber bracelet that functioned as a baton. I slipped it on my wrist and set off on my bike.

I was excited, nervous and anxious and hoped I wouldn’t fall off. So of course, I did.

Halfway through the race at the 20km mark, my bicycle chain disengaged, sending the bike hurtling towards the pavement. As my shoes were clipped on to the pedals, this meant that I went hurtling along with the bike.

The medics rode up to see if I needed any assistance. It was a little embarrassing as I was still stuck to the bike.

It would have been a good time to throw in the towel as I was quite bruised and battered but surprisingly, I found myself even more determined to complete the race as I fixed my chain, remounted my bike and took off.

When I completed 40km, I felt a sense of achievement but there was still 10km to run. More than anything, I wanted to finish the race.

I didn’t really care if I came in last — which I didn’t, thankfully. After all, I rationalised, this was my maiden run.

When I started off, I found my legs wobbly from the bike ride. You use a different set of muscles to run and it took my legs a while to adjust.

Gradually the proper muscles engaged but I was more exhausted than I had ever been in my life. I started jogging very, very slowly, about the pace of walking.

I couldn’t walk, as there was a danger of my muscles cramping. At this point, it took all my resources to keep on going. What spurred me on was the sight of 40- and 50-something men and women, some of them twice my size, passing me easily.

My competitive blood was stirred and I started to pick up speed again. To my own surprise I actually ran the last 3km to 4km.

I realised that there was a mental barrier we have to pass in races such as these and the body is capable of so much more than we give it credit for.

When I saw the finish line, I had a last spurt of energy. I ran faster, mainly because I wanted to look cool, and crossed the finish line with my running group, most of whom had come in long ago, cheering me on.

I had never felt so good in my life. Next time, I promised myself, I would do the entire triathlon by myself, rather than opt for the relay.

I cannot describe that sense of achievement that comes from completing something you set out to do, especially when you are tempted to give up at so many points along the way.

I knew then that getting to the finish line was both a matter of preparation and psychology. You need to train properly for the race but as in all forms of marathon, you also need the mental toughness to keep on going when all you want to do is quit.

All around me, there were people who were fainting and giving up. There were also those who, despite their advanced years, or size, forced themselves to continue. I took my cue from them.

I also realised the importance of a good trainer and experienced running mates who were willing, and even eager, to share their experience.

Having done this for years, they shared a lot of tips to shortcut my training process. I realised that those who were arrogant enough to want to go it alone without the benefit of experienced mentors are taking the long way.

Without my knowing it, the benefits of my training had spilled into other areas of my life. I now find myself mentally tougher and more resilient. My mind is clearer and my threshold for pain has increased.

I attend many talks or seminars where people want to know what they can do to fast track their growth. They want to become a CEO by 25 and a millionaire by 30.

What I learned from participating in this triathlon is, if we want to fast track our growth, we need to constantly set ourselves “impossible” challenges and be willing to do what it takes to meet them.

We need the right support group, the right mentors and, most importantly, we need to be willing to put in the sweat.

And then we need to step up and perform.

Topics: NST Articles | 19 Comments »