Within Malaysiakini’s current crop of columnists, I’m the only woman. The difference between the guys and me is that I’m not immune to tears.

Admittedly, it’s a man’s world here in this web portal. The last I had a look, its demographics breakdown showed 85 per cent of Malaysiakini subscribers were male.

The same trend is reflected in blogosphere. One Malaysian survey of 1,540 respondents, and its findings reported in a new book by doctoral candidate Jun-E Tan and Dr Zawawi Ibrahim, revealed that 82 percent of those reading socio-political blogs are male.

Unless such a gender bias has shifted, I ask that you Dear Sir – who make up eight-and-a-quarter to eight-and-a-half out of 10 Malaysiakini readers as compared to Dear Madam – please excuse me for presently failing to meet the usual cut-and-dried standards for a political article, and giving way to feminine waterworks.

Today’s essay is something like what one would write to Dear Thelma.

Playing roulette

It is Internet service provider Time.com that is provoking the tears. Earlier, at 8.30am, I had switched on my computer and unable to get online. I’ve grown tired and averse to the routine of calling their Helpline.

Any user logging on his broadband expects that when he clicks, he will get connected. Not so with Time.com. With this company, it’s like a game of chance or what our local kids call ‘main tikam-tikam’.

Let’s just explore the most fundamental premise of a client-and-business relationship. When you dial for pizza, you have faith that a pizza will be delivered to your doorstep. Compare when you dial Time.com and you’ve paid for a 2-meg bandwidth, and what is delivered is one meg. Or you might get, “The phone line is busy” – my experience the entire morning.

When you do get connected, it feels like you’ve miraculously struck a lottery. But wait! After 10 seconds, a notice pops up to say, “Link to time failed. Reconnect pending”.

The message box next tells you that the line is attempting to reconnect. Okay, hope springs eternal. Connected. Then it disconnects in a blink. You try reconnecting yet again. However, Time.com holds that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction; the ISP disconnects you with an amazing alacrity and fervour.

About a fortnight ago – if my memory serves but Time.com has so aggravated me in the interim that my sense of time might well be skewed – I was continually experiencing (during one particular night) the line getting disconnected every 10 minutes or so.

If the disconnect was every 10 minutes in that earlier period of last month, it is now – as I’m typing – every 10 seconds. ‘Time’ does not stand still; it contracts.

Time and again

I have already spoken to several Time.com staff in various echelons of the company hierarchy over their abysmal broadband. Unfortunately, its customer service does not record every complaint in their log book because upon ringing them the second or third instance (a single phone call is usually unable to get the problem resolved), the telephonist will ask for my particulars once more.

I’m almost prompted to retort: “How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

I’ve dealt with enough Time.com staff to even get Azlan the Malay-speaking Time.com technician mixed up with Azlan the impeccable English-speaking Time.com officer, and their number stored in my mobile’s address book without being sure which Azlan it is.

I’ve spoken to enough Time.com personnel that I’ve lost track of who is accredited to which department.

I’ve also spoken to so many Time.com female ‘consultants’ manning Helpline that should I attend their hen party, I ought to feel quite at home … if familiarity breeds coziness.

‘Thou shalt not’ commandments

There are many things one cannot do in Malaysia. For instance, thou shalt not ride a bicycle without police permit. If you are under 18, police might insist you require your parents’ written consent to cycle in a convoy on the roads.

One cannot hold a candle in public if there are people standing around you also holding a lit candle. The Polis Raja di Malaysia sees red at the sight of a flickering flame and thus the unwritten law becomes, ‘Thou shalt not light up’.

Your group might be allowed to cup candles in a closed Dewan (community hall) if you obtain police permission. But if you try to access an open square like Dataran Merdeka for a candlelight vigil, you would meet with police cordon and a dozen uniformed men yelling at you (a lone female individual making her roundabout – because of the roadblocks – way to her People’s Parliament friends) “Keluar, keluar!” in the harshest tone.

One cannot wear an ‘Abolish ISA’ or ‘I stand with RPK’ T-shirt outdoors if there are other people standing around you also wearing T-shirts bearing a similar slogan. The condition set by police allowing public assembly is: ‘Thou shalt not wear unsuitable T-shirts’.

One cannot pray in a Hindu temple for the release of the Hindraf Five. On November 12, Pournami Pooja [‘power prayers’ during the full moon] was supposed to be conducted at a temple in Batang Kali, Hulu Selangor.

Civil rights lawyer Haris Ibrahim blogged that two days before the scheduled event, one devotee was summoned by Special Branch and warned that the religious ceremony must not proceed, else those participating would face arrest.

Last Friday night when I was at the Subramaniar temple in Kg Kandiar, Rasa, we saw how the Indians, including women and children at prayer were under SB surveillance.

If these are not things enough to make one cry, there’s another commandment applying in the confines of my home: Thou shalt not get online with Time.com without wasting time.

When I’m already tired and stressed, backlogged and pressed to meet deadlines and the day starts on such a frustrating note, tears well up in my eyes. Like the lyrics of a popular oldie song goes: “You would cry too if it happened to you.”

POSTSCRIPT:

I got a call in the afternoon from Time.com explaining “semua kena”, i.e. the disruption affected everyone and not just me alone.

Time.com also said connection was re-established after 11-ish in the morning (they provided me the exact time but I did not have pen-and-paper at hand to take note).

The company has promised that it is “in the middle of making perfect” its broadband services and smoothing over the hiccups and banishing the gremlins.