UNDEFINED

Wednesday, September 6,2023,  4: 28 PM

I do not go defining my behaviour into categories now. I am simply living the life now. I was tempted to define my living as a frugal laziness for the apparent lack in purpose and strife.  But what would you define a dried leaf that seemingly floats, carried by the wind wherever it takes? Surely it cannot be called a lazy leaf without purpose. It is living in the moment when time is immaterial, of no consequence. What the leaf witnesses is the constant passing of the day into night, and of the night into day. It does not judge itself, it does not carry regrets because, in the scheme of destiny, it recognises that it is only a leaf and nothing more than that. 

I may go to the yard today with my bow. I should not expect anything but to just pull the string and let loose the arrows on the target. I am not competing when I used to compete against myself, against my own expectations. I am my own worse enemy, with such cruel remarks for the mistakes that I had made. And it had not been limited to archery but everything else. I will just play like a child with his toy. I simply have to let go because I should be my own best friend and companion.

DX or FX?

Kudos to http://www.scantips.com/lights/cropfactor.html for explaining that there are exactly no loss of megapixels between a DX and a FX format lens given that the image in FX is resized to the same size as that of a DX. What it really means to me is that I do not have to retire my DX lens but instead capitalise on the 1.5 crop factor in the DX telephoto lens and get more closer to the subject. All this while I have mistakenly assumed that a DX lens gives less megapixels. 

It has been some time. That is about waiting for the catalyst to activate my writing. After the second book, "Karma's Servants", the mind has gone empty, like an empty room without windows and furniture. From where I stand, I cannot see anything, because there is no window to look out of. And it's been four months. Karma's Servants was seeded from Bali. Perhaps, I will need to travel again. Kyrgyzstan maybe? I can hear its distant call. Walking along its train tracks near Issykul would probably provide that seed. I need the seed, to plant in the ground. I really don't know what will come next. Maybe I don't really care. 

Overloaded and not liking it a bit

Religion overload! My Facebook is being cramped with self-appointed religious scholars preaching of Hell and Heaven through second-hand postings. On the pretext of sharing, these people trust banners of pain and misery into my face, seemingly feeling that they are doing a good thing. Well, it doesn't mean one single thing or a reward from high heaven. Sharing postings doesn't buy these people a ticket to heaven. Putting across the idea that is God is as judgmental as them doesn't create a thing to me. Because, God is never that judgmental in accordance to human perception. It's His discretion to put who in hell or who in heaven. He is full of love and compassion and mercy but yet, through only a miniscule portion of their selective education, these people paint nothing else but woe and misery to who they think are sinners. They stand up, bend down and prostrate but yet, lack the capabilities of an inwardly practicing respect for people who are more inwardly religious. They think they already have tickets, stamped with the approval of the most high, to enter heaven. What? By just posting second hand banners? Posting speeches of narrow-minded gurus? Please. Get a life, people. You will never know what comes the next day. You can actually be on the verge of death and one single thought at that moment of departure can decide your place. It is not about heaven and hell you should be concerned most about. That is the domain of the One and Only. It should be about living, respecting others, practicing social love with one and another, caring for one another and not stealing, gossiping, defaming and using one another for pleasure and self-profit. Thank you.

Hmmm...

It has been almost two weeks into the Ramadan. Ramadan used to be magical to me, a spiritual experience but now, I do not feel it much. Perhaps, I have rusted or perhaps, I have gotten old and matured and have lost the innocence to feel spirituality. Or perhaps, I have changed quite a lot these past few years, leaden with anxiety, depression, anger, hatred and contempt. Perhaps, the heart has built too many walls with which to shield itself from the outside world that it has grown sceptical of the world. Perhaps. There are too many perhaps. Perhaps and maybes. Those are the only two major words I use in my mind nowadays. 

Life is a lot like jumping off an aircraft without a parachute. The moment one steps off the door, the only way to go is down. The eventuality is a certainty. But what gives the illusion of float is only temporary. Some people step off and never got quite used to falling off, so that they fall ungracefully, screaming even, turning round and round. Some fall in grace, seemingly to fly like a bird, winds on their faces, smiles all round. I would like to be like them, but as it is, I am struggling to keep afloat with some control. The ground is there, down there for sure and every second and minute count, to make this temporary fall, a good one. Because it is the only one. There is no returning to the aircraft. I like this flow of thought though. Everyone falls, everyone dies.  

The E-mail

The e-mail is so much a part of getting things done now, so much so, it is the necessary gatekeeper for information to be requested and information to be provided. Nowadays, it is not sufficient to just meet with the specific person who holds the information. Information can only be provided when an e-mail is forwarded, signifying a formal request even though the person is sitting next to me. I must be from the old school where words will just suffice to instigate an informative response. I feel like a corporate hillbilly now. Times have changed. I wonder where I can find another company which does not need the e-mail correspondence. The e-mail is an added bureaucracy. FOS at most times.

It rains outside. A second time, this week in Kuala Lumpur. The rain will help to reduce the prevalent dustiness in the air. It does not matter that much to me. I go in and out of air-conditined spaces. The only negative thing is its effect on vehicular traffic movement. KL roads are like clogged intestines during and after a downpour. I cannot really tell where the rectum is actually. I have always avoided peak traffic hour but yesterday, I had accidentally dropped my keys at the PJ Secret Recipe. Silently brooding, my wife (on her birthday) had to drive me to PJ through the thick traffic and back again to Bangsar through the thick traffic. It was no fun for me either when Secret Recipe still registers a telephone nuber which is no longer valid. It was no fun to walk from the office to Bukit Pantai, amidst the dirt and dust and the uncomfortable heat. It was the repercussion from a shallow pocket and a low sofa chair. I had mulled over how not to lose the keys. Hang around neck, insert in hankerchief, hang on chain to trousers and even hang on those places that only see little of the day. What to do. Life is like that. Sometimes we lose things and we get them back and sometimes we don't. I don't mind losing the bad ones, though.

On birthdays and the parting of ways

Today is my wife's birthday and  I was the fiftieth person (so she said) to have wished her a happy birthday. I was not late on the day but rather on the hour. As for myself, I frown on my own birthday. If immortality is what I seek, then I would not care much about the birthdays. However, as it is, we are all mortals and so, the birthday is like the milestone on the perilious journey towards the end. I wonder if everyone else in the world look forward to retirement and old age. Some of course, did not make it and falter along the way, either from cancer, accidents, murder, war or famine. Whatever it is, a birthday is a rejoice of one's entry into the world. I don't remember if I had smiled on coming out from my mother. But my parents insisted that as a baby I was quiet and brooding and minded my own business. I am still like that, more or less. Hmmm..

Speaking of retirement, this year marks the twentieth year of my career in this company. It has been that long. But today,  I will commence to initiate my exit. That will be the milestone of event that I have been waiting for, for the past one year. The bird has to go free, the horse brought out to pasture. Of course, there can be many words to describe it. I am elated. I see the open door, and outside it, the expansive plain with some hills over yonder, with birds flying against the blue sky. I see nothing else.

Quaint?

Crisp was the morning as I drove under the tall trees lining both sides of the winding road after having sent my son to his school. The thought came to mind of the word "quaint". Whenever that word comes to mind, I am brought to the scenario of a small brick cottage with  a seasoned chimney on its roof, overlooking a treeless plain  at the end of a small path which had crossed  a short ancient bridge under which a brook runs. To my mind, that is the definition of the word "Quaint". Somehow, this morning the mind wonders if it can apply the same definition for the road that I was driving on. The trees and the winding road had suggested that, I think. For a few minutes, I argued with the mind that the scenario in front of me could not measure up to the parameters of the current definition of the word quaint. The mind retorted that it could be used for the scene given the calmness and its aloofness from the busyness of life that it had shown. I argued that such was only available intermittently but not permanently as opposed to the small cottage by the brook. It lacked consistency, I added, of displaying the same sentiment all day or for all year. It just happened at the moment in time for the road with the right proportion and combination of sunlight through the trees, a clear blue sky with some clouds and of course the trees. It would not be peaceful once people drive their cars to go to work.  

Finally the mind relented and acquisced with my argument because I had been objective with my reasons and so it did not sulk and rant like it would normally do. And so the scenario of that small cottage with the chimney and the brook running  beside it has survived another attempt at revision. I doubt that such a scenario really exists but it exists in my mind and that is all that matters. The word "quaint" is the label for the imagination I have of this scenery. Surely it will look timeless but when rationality prevails, I would want the cottage to have internet access with proper utilities and of course, a car by the side. No. These will not be part of the scenery of course. Because it is not going to happen. It is only residing in my mind after all.

Sometimes...

Sometimes there is just cause for lamenting. Imagine going to a meeting with the facts from a Due Diligence Study and being challenged, not on the facts but through negative intonations and statements based on fiction. But I have come across these situations because the persons in front of me have not done what they are supposed to do. It is amazing that some people can seemingly wield the strength to opress and subsequently suppress facts through their capability to talk in condescending manners. But it happens. Stupid people are experts in condescension. It serves no purpose because in the end, the company that they are selling is strewn garbage. I don't buy garbage. Sorry.

I am referring to Mergers & Acquisitions. Lately I have been reminiscing over my past work, rummaging through the old files and documents simply because I have kept them for so long. Most often than not, negotiations at the table have been conducted in the pleasing of manners with proper documentation and justification for arguments and through follow-ups with more documentation. These scenarios quickly fade into oblivion. What really stays in the mind however, are those meetings with fools who have no justification but tons of pride. It is like eating food without consciously knowing in the first instance of putting it in the mouth, that it has been bad. But fools will always exist, in the highest forms, bedecked with names like Director, Financial Controller as such. But they will be fools just the same. I have no time for village idiots who know not that their companies are technically bankrupt and mismanaged. Really, those times of sitting at meetings have been wasted. That is not to say that idiots only exist in M&As. There are many, in departments and divisions each holding on to loose sand and fighting vehemently just so they can emerge from meetings unscathed. Some people build sand castles. Nothing more. And they get paid for that. Sheesh...

Nothing in particular

I do not have anything to say. But that does not mean that I don't feel strongly on some matters. It is just that, the floor is sparse, and I only see a few alphabets, here and there. They are just not sufficient for me to form sentences or provide some coherence to those sentences. No, it is not one of those days. That would be like sitting on a buttress of a big old tree which has branches low enough to almost touch the ground and on those branches, many leaves forming a natural curtain, so that when the breeze blows, the curtain would raise a little, revealing some activity of life on the outside. But here, in the shade, there is nothing else to do but feel the sporadic breeze on my face and listen to the chirping of the birds. No, it is not happiness. It is a calmness, seemingly of no remorse and no euphoria. Simply being. It is not easy to be simply being. Stones are simply being. Trees, like the old tree that I am sitting down under, is simply being. The breeze which blows on my face is simply being.

You see, there are not many words on the floor. When there are no words, there is no remorse and no euphoria because there are no more words to describe them.

Which Car?

It has become more difficult to ascertain the reality of things through getting more review material, and in this case, specifically reviews on the car. And in this case, reviews specifically on the BMW and the Jaguar. It is really the case of the elephant and the blind men. Given the same car, every reviewer comes out with differing opinions, so much so, that it is difficult to make one single conclusion. I do wonder, if this applies to all other things as well. I think that I have read more than thirty reviews over the months on the specific 535i and XF. Always, when I am about to make a conclusion which car to consider, there is the criticisms or highlights of the car's deficiencies. So much so, that I have come to the conclusion, thanks to the official and non-official critics, that there is no such thing as a perfect car and that technology is not sufficient to provide the perfect car. As long as there is individualistic thinking, there is no such thing as a good car. The only way to do it is to test drive each one and make conclusions from that. Every other critique is garbage to me.

I like the XF because it has better looks. It has more charisma. To me, it is. Somebody else might differ. But another would say that the 535i is more roadworthy, a more reliable performer. Some say that the 535i has got more power than the XF. Living in this part of the world with undulating roads (not from the terrain but from bad engineering) and few long-distance highways, comfort would reign higher over speed. At least, I qualify that based on my own perception. There a more BMWs on the road while the Jaguar remains a "sometimes" machine. Do we need to look like the rest or stand out from the rest? The answer is of course, obvious. "But the service quality of a Jag is not as good as ours", commented the BMW salesperson to me. That is also a matter of consideration also. If there is not many Jags on the road, its mechanics will not have the adequate exposure to provide good repair work. That is logical, so to say. I like the XF but feel that I am being pushed by rationality towards the 535i. It is a difficult thing.

 

So where does this end? I really don't know. I do not have the wealthier option for a Maserati or Ferrari. I think that these are cars in their own class. After all, criticism abound when there are similar models. I am back to where I started. Just the other day, I bought another three more magazines on the 535i and the XF. That totals to about eight magazines thusfar, not to mention the numerous references to Youtube and the rest of the web on car reviews. I think it would be simpler to just toss a coin and let it happen. Sigh..

Guru? What Guru?

I am a sceptic, through and through. Management is a science. It is a frequent sentence written in text books on Management. If it goes by scientific methods, that is. It is also an art. Another frequent sentence written in text books on Management. It is an art when there is no definitive approach to managing. And then there are the "Gurus", supposedly wise teachers who write books on Management. So called, because what is written can hardly be derived from scientific methods. Normally, it comes under the "Art" section. Good reading with case studies. For as long as there are people managing, there will always be different styles of effective management. I am a sceptic when it comes under Art section. I am a sceptic when authors I do not know well enough, seemingly write books and impose their ideas to the public. When I come across e-mails from colleagues of what a Management guru is saying, I view their words as nothing more than an advertorial. Advertisements, in the form of words, designed to bring the reader's interest and awe. There was one e-mail about a statement by this author that executives should not whine. Whining is an emotional complaint of a management action or procedure that does not make logical sense. Executives don't whine unless there is something wrong with the way the Management has done something or if there is an incomplete comprehension of the procedure due to an embargo on information. If executives don't whine, no grievance, then you don't need people to run the business. The author's statement does not make any sense. It is entirely ludicrous, to even expect that people should not whine. Unless of course, the author sees himself as a part of management. I wonder, how many authors out there, have the requisite experience to even write about management. As long as there are fools who cannot know the difference, there will always be a management author who will write nonsense.

When Dreams become real

I think that in each person, there are aspirations which are not totally in view but remain latent, hidden, smaller than applets, pixel-size even, of wants, of wishes. When the mind perceives of the impossibility of achieving these wishes, it ensures that the dots remain as they are. However, when there is a greater possibility of success in achieving them, they show themselves, in the form of ambitions, in the form of objectives. What would go on in the mind of a poor man? Would he have the dreams and the wishes of having a big house or houses and cars and expensive stuff? Of course, he should, within. If he plods through life, without as much as having the possibility, they will possibly remain as they are. If not, they will become like thorns, inspiring jealousy and bitterness for those who have them. I believe that without any likelihood, without any perceived chance of getting, the ordinary person will just keep his wishes as hidden, like cells without life, without light, without relevance. Perhaps, I am only referring to myself and this opinion may not be applicable to others. I don't really care but I am surmising here. Now, if the poor man, meaning, a person who is economically deficient, without a potential surplus, has been given the real possibility of having an economic surplus, his wishes will take form and he will begin to visualise the possibilities. What's my point here? Well, we may visualise what is already a near possibility but not before that. I am trying to find the equation. There are just so many self-help books on shelves, in bookstores, perused and bought and read by just so many people, ever hopeful of achieving their dreams. This is the secret, the author will say. Another will say, one will need to visualise. One will say, one must believe and so on and so on. But how many people will achieve their dreams based on the inspiring books that they have read? Is there a statistical research on this? Can there be an establishment of a probability profile of readers who have read and succeeded in their lives from reading self-help books? That would be good. At the very least, we can ascertain the effectiveness of a self-help book. I wonder, how many people have been deluded into buying and reading and believing in one thing and then, having gone through the process of going according to the recommendations of the book and not getting any results, to visit yet again, the bookshelf with the self-help books and repeat the same process again. I wonder. I do wonder, how some authors must have achieved their ambitions through creating some ambiguous principles of success and putting them down into books for the gullible and the consistently-deluded to enrich them.

Year of the Rabbit

The Associated Press wrote that among key predictions for the new year beginning Feb. 3: terrorist threats, continuing tensions between China and the United States, natural disasters around the world and wobbly global markets. Events such as these could have been predicted using trend forecasting. It is not difficult. It is nothing new. The world is dying; we all know it. Natural disasters will happen and global markets will be affected by natural disasters. Tensions between countries will happen and wars cost money and that also significantly impacts the global markets. Markets rise and fall as they always do, and only the very few know where it will go, with sufficient information.

Most importantly, to know, is to locate the exact location of the natural disasters. Markets will always be wobbly, interdependency from the depency on common currencies, dependence on external labour productivity on the basis of widening the profit margin and dependence on external commodities. Price and cost differentials have provided for cross border trading and with it, economic interdependencies.

Forecasting is easy if the fortune teller keeps updated on current events and previous events; like question spotting for the A level examinations. Almost anyone can say it. Yes, there will be natural disasters. There will never be a year without one. There will never be a year without a country going against another. There will never be a year without wobbly global markets. There will never be a year without a fortune teller telling that calamities will befall. So there.

Is work a way of life?

Is work a way of life? That was the question my mind posed to me this morning, as I saw the vehicles on the roads, bumper to bumper, with clear intentions of reaching the respective offices in time. It looks like it. Working is a life. It is not strange, it is not different, it is life. Almost everyone works. It is not only about making a living, but it is about living a life in work. And when the life of work is done, there is the life of retirement. And when that is done too, there is the life of no life.

Lesson in humility or lesson in humiliation?

I do not know what prompted me to remember the incident that happened in 1983 this morning. It is something that still bothers me. It was my first job, in a cable manufacturing company. I reported to the CFO, a Chinese, Foo was his name, I think and he was all what you may imagine to be for an Accountant - bespectacled, thin and pale, hair parted by the side of the head. On that particular day, my first day of work as an Accounts Executive, I sat by my desk. He asked to see me and I stepped into his office. "I can see that you are quite artistic", he said, although he could not possibly see that as I had not done anything tangible that could lead to a person thinking that I was artistic. I presumed he was being sarcastic.

"Here is what I want you to do", he said. "You see those brass plates out there on the desks of the senior officers? I will ask my secretary to bring those plates for you to polish", he said.

So, on the very first day of my work, in an office where clerical staff reported to me, I sat on the chair with a polishing cloth and a Brasso, to polish the brass name plates of the senior officers. The question here is, was the CFO trying to give me a lesson in humility? Or was he trying to give me a lesson in humiliation? I am more skewed towards the latter. The spectacle of me cleaning the brass plates, obviously affected the clerical staff, so that I could feel I lost their respect. Having two professional degrees did not seem to jive with the janitor's work of polishing brass plates. I took the task without complaints, without being vocal about it. Perhaps, the CFO wanted to break my ego, whatever that was that he noticed. I do not remember I have an ego. But being awarded the best student in Accounting in the Commonwealth certainly would have provided the platform for such. Since that fateful day, I could not manage my staff well. They could not get that polishing out of their minds.

I worked for a month before tendering my resignation. My resignation attracted the attention of the CEO, a British engineer. He was respectful and called me into his office for a discussion. He wanted to know why a person like me would want to resign. So I told him of what the CFO had asked me to do on my first day of work and his recurring sarcasms from day to day. The CEO openly acknowledged the fact that the CFO was a racist. There had been complaints of him from other Malay employees.  

It was not a lesson in humility after all. The CEO asked me to reconsider but I gently refused, citing all other reasons like difficulties in travelling to work and all. Such is the Malay way of turning down an offer. In a way, my decision to leave was pretty good. I made the right choice despite losing the potential income in the company. It was a small company. The CFO found it exhilarating when the company made the first million. That was how small it was. I got a better job as Group Budget Accountant in a listed company and a better income. Still, I could not forget that Foo, the racist CFO. I still harbour that bitterness, a bitterness that could only be quelled if I can only pee on his grave. Further down the road, I have met a few more of those like Foo. I took these things in stride, going beyond the skin to the individual. There will always be people like Foo. But then there will always be other people who are not racists. Like my old friend who died recently, the late CK Loh. CK Loh shared his experience with me one day. He lost a maintenance contract with a Chinese customer because the customer insisted that he remove the Malay employees from his IT company. Loh stood by his principles but lost the contract. That was a significant thing to do. 


My brother Sam told me one day. If we do not know a person, we are likely to judge the person according to our influenced perception of him as a person of another race. And he or she is likely to do the same to you. However, if we get to know each other and become friends, we are likely to forget the bigotry.

Whatever it was, my life is certainly better than Foo. For I do not have what his small mind has. 

Cause of Teoh’s death unknown - The Star

The Star reported "The lengthy Teoh Beng Hock inquest ended with coroner Azmil Muntapha Abas ruling that the political aide did not commit suicide. Azmil Muntapha, however, also said there was insufficient evidence to prove that Teoh’s death was homicide".

At most times, I think in terms of binary rationality, that if a parameter does not fit, then it must be the other. One or Zero. Yes or No. The coroner's statement above is perplexing, suicide was not committed by Teoh. And so, to my mind, his death must have been brought about by an external party. If you don't die from your own actions, then you must have died from other people's actions, in that context. So, it is perplexing indeed. Perhaps, I have been watching too many CSI shows, if there had been a murder, there should be a murderer. That is how I tend to see things.

But then, I cannot manage to grasp a conclusion. Teoh's death did not reach the classification of murder. It is somewhere in the space between the words suicide and murder. Death was the certainty but its cause is not. I am confounded by the apparent ambiguity in the equation. It scares me as it is not just about the case, but about the ambiguity in determining the murder. It tells me that it can happen to just about any Malaysian. Yes, I am afraid. If science cannot explain it, then it will normally categorise it as paranormal until such time, that it can be explained by science. So, is Teoh's death paranormal? I dare to stand firm by my opinion, until such time that the coroner classifies Teoh's death as murder. And I have sufficient cause to worry.

One can die from paranormal activity here. I can be in a building in one minute and in the next minute, I will be falling out through the window, meeting death on the pavement. Paranormal indeed. I have a firm reason to be afraid. Of what can become of future deaths. Not suicide but not murder. It can happen to you.  

At least 60 people plan suicide every day

Today's Star mentioned that Counselling centres in the country receive more than 60 calls each day from people contemplating suicide, according to China Press. In a front-page special report, the paper said the number reveals that many people are being subjected to problems related to finance, marriage and family.

It is understandable, given that the banking environment in Malaysia is more prudent and risk averse and will not provide the financial assistance to just about anybody. In this country, if a person is in high debt or without a job, he or she will not be able to obtain the financial assistance from banks. Once a person defaults on a credit card or a personal loan, no matter how small, it will be registered amongst the banking community and here is where the problem commences.

This is not a welfare-state, almost everything here has a price. Even to go to work has a price. There is the toll to pay to use the road and there is always the exorbitant parking rates. If a person does not have medical insurance, provided by his employer or through his own means, there is money to pay for sickness and maternity. Nothing is free here. The only thing that is free is probably a smile.

So, what is a person with financial constraints to do? Can a counsellor really talk a person out of suicide over money-matters when there is possibly nothing that can be done to arrest the financial situation? One can only talk so much over the phone to someone whose situation is real, not imaginary. Depression is in the mind, but money matters is real. Often times, a person cannot see the road; the alternative route. It would be easier if the banking institutions and the Government can collaborate to not only reduce non-performing loans and suicide but at the same time provide a higher margin of tolerance for people who are in need of finance. There has got to be a way, nothing is impossible in this world, save for bringing someone back from the dead.

More often than not, marriages are also risk averse, being part of the equation of having adequate finance. Without finance, marriages can fail. Wifes can also be like banks. Risk averse. No money, no wife. Everything has a connection. The report is right that money, marriage and family are the problems.

I am not an advocate of suicide, far from it, but a person, being a member of the community and the Government and the banks being members of the community, efforts should go beyond mere counselling to establish a new machinery which addresses the real and material issues affecting the suicidal person.

Oh

I was attending the Old Edwardians dinner last night and a school junior asked, what I did for a living. I stuttered for a while, as I rummaged through my mind, to find a specific name for the work that I do. My work stretches a wide spectrum, from business transformation, to analysis, to regulatory advice and tax to feasibility studies. I was uncertain of which category of work to say, so I said "I am an Analyst". "Oh" he said, and that was that. I could have explained it more, but mildly resisted the attempt.  I did not regret not bringing my business card. There was no need to distribute business cards. I could have said Special Projects but I chose Analyst. It is an endearing term to me, for what describes me more than anything else. Analysis has always been my passion although I have reached a level where I can do everything excepting the sales part.

I could have brought my camera to the school reunion, but I did not. The "so what?" thingy was in my head. I was looking for aesthetics in images. I would not be able to find any in people consciously posing for the camera. Regardless, cameras are aplenty nowadays and so there were many flashes from many cameras.

  

Photography Books

The continued global growth of the consumer market in digital cameras has brought with it the proliferation of books on photography. The growing consumer market on digital cameras has ensured the continuance of wide readership on photography. In KL, Kinokuniya has the largest stock of books on this topic. Before the advent of digital photography, books of this nature normally number about 10 on any book store. Now, there are simply rows of shelves with books on lighting, exposure, composition, wedding, HDR and portraiture.

However, at one time, I too was an avid reader of books and magazines on photography. Now, I have realised much to my disappointment from the loss of funds from buying useless books, that not all books and magazines on photography are educational. Some are merely composed of good images on pages, with scant instructions on how to achieve those images. Basically most people have been conned, especially for those who are new at photography and want to learn more to achieve with their cameras. The techniques are not comprehensive. Most books provide the same topics but in different words on the sectors of landscape, still photography, portraits and weddings. How the image is achieved is not thoroughly explained. There should be a catalogue on photography books to rank the books and magazines in order of effectiveness. It will certainly assist the potential buyers on what to look out for and what not to buy. In the cinematic film industry, there are the A grade movies and there are the B grade movies. Photography books are also like these. Somehow, grading needs to be done. 

Be that as it may, the time to learn has to end for the photographer to evolve on his own. The school has to close. Graduation must happen and all that is left, should just be the photographer and his camera.