This is the thing about desert rain. Those who experience this rain experience the splendour of a rainbow.

I believe that if you throw enough prayers up in the wind, one will eventually be carried to the right person. One such prayer I had offered up, despite many people telling me it would be longer than a long shot, was a letter to Rais Yatim.

YB Dato’ Seri Utama,

Perkara: Novel FUEL untuk Perpustakaan-Perpustakaan di Malaysia

Dengan hormatnya, inzinkan saya terlebih dahulu melahirkan perasaan kagum saya atas segala yang telah dicapai oleh YB Dato’ Seri dalam mempromosikan tabiat membaca di negara kita ini.

Usaha YB Dato’ Seri sudah tentu akan mendatangkan impak yang positif ke atas negara bagi generasi-generasi yang akan datang, dan menghasilkan negara Malaysia yang lebih progresif.

Saya berbangga menulis surat ini bertujuan memaklumkan YB Dato’ Seri bahawa saya telahpun berjaya menerbitkan sebuah buku yang berjudul FUEL, dan saya berbesar hati menghulurkan YB Dato’ Seri senaskah sebagai hadiah ikhlas daripada saya.

Sekiranya YB merasakan yang buku saya ini ada nilainya, adalah harapan saya agar YB Dato’ Seri mempertimbangkan untuk membekalkannya untuk perpustakaan-perpustakaan di seluruh negara.

Setakat ini buku saya telah mendapat banyak ulasan yang menggalakkan, dan adalah hasrat saya agar setiap warga Malaysia yang mahu membacanya dapat berbuat demikian, namun, sudah tentu ramai di antara mereka mungkin tidak mampu membelinya.

Saya cukup sedar bahawa akses kepada buku FUEL untuk semua terletak di tangan YB Dato’ Seri sendiri dan oleh itu saya menyusun sepuluh jari dan meminta agar YB memutuskan untuk menjadikan akses ini satu kenyataan.

Akhir sekali saya harap YB Dato’ Seri terhibur membaca buku tersebut dan saya akan menunggu jawapan yang positif daripada YB Dato’ Seri.

Terima kasih atas masa yang sudah diluangkan oleh YB Dato’ Seri.

Yang ikhlas,
Jeremy Chin

Sometimes it is important to have a little faith, because that translates into hope. That way, when things are just not going your way, you have something to hold on to, that shred of hope, that prayer in the wind. I await Dato Rais’ answer. I await answers to the 200+ letters I’ve written to individuals and organisations worldwide. This week, I’ll write a hundred more.

One of the first questions I get from people after they’ve read my book is if I’m Timmy. Yes, I am he, that starry eyed dreamer with that undousable fire in his eyes. Often, I believe that to get my book there, I have to pave my own destiny. It’s just a matter of who ends up being a part of the journey.

Rain in LA.

Jeez. Next we’ll have peace in East Timor?

While we’re on the topic of East Timor. The word Timor, translated in the Timorese language Tetum, means “east”… which would ultimately make the name “East Timor” sound a little awkward… don’t you think?

The people of Timor would probably laugh their heads off if they learned that I just claimed rain in LA. “Pfffff! You call that rain?” For a country that gets 1400 mm of rain a year, the 0.005 mm of dampness we got this morning would probably be labelled imposter rain or pussy rain.

And they have a point.

All I know is that I won’t be betting my kidneys that it rained today as I didn’t hear any thunder, see any rain or lightning…. nope…. no pitter, patter, pitter, patter, rumbling sounds in the sky and all that good stuff. All I know is that on the way to work, I could see the bottom of the car in front reflected off the road…. and the air today was so thick with moisture you could catch a water-borne disease by breathing the air. Actually, the air today kinda reminded me of the time I got back from a weekend in St Louis, stepped into my Waugh St. apartment and realized I did not turn off my humidifier before leaving.

I was stubborn at first, refusing to run the windshield wiper on my way to work. I mean, it wasn’t raining. Why use the wiper? Drops continued to accumulate on my windshield to the point it got too thick for me to see. I reluctantly flipped on the wiper. It swung left and it swung right. Now I really couldn’t see shit. Paper mache.

Those of you who know me also know that I wash my car…. ummmm… on average once a year. I normally welcome heavy rain with open arms since it saves me the $5.75 I would have to otherwise spend at the car wash. I do not, however, welcome lethargic, half-hearted rain mainly because it eats into that even coat of silky dust on my car’s skin, leaving its complexion looking like open pores after a cold shower. The way a car is dressed reflects a lot on the owner of the car and today, I had to deal withthe consequences my car looking neither clean nor dirty… as though it were confused… lost… or still in search of its identity.

And to make matters worse, the new rain coat formed an adhesive base that changed my car into a giant piece of scotch tape, vulnerable to everything in its path. I think I’ll adopt a highway.