Merry Christmas'11

To you dear reader,

Yes, you.. the one in Canada, the one in France, the one in Shah Alam, the one in Singapore, the one in KL, the one in the US, and the ones I really don't know where from...

Though I don't know you, though we no longer speak, though oceans separate us and though we remain strangers... I just want to say Thank You... and God Bless You and you family in this time of Christmas. You may not believe it, but I do think about some of you, and constantly wish you well.

You may or may not be a Christian, but know that God loves you.. and so do I. We forgive because we were first forgiven, we love because we were first loved.

Merry Christmas...

Best Regards
Me

Happy I Am

We live in such times, where a person’s greatness is often measured by his stature in society, where wealth measured almost exclusively by the amount of money you have. And in turn, greatness and wealth is used to measure happiness.

Happiness; that elusive state of heart and mind we we all struggle to achieve.

Let me tell you a secret……

I have been cheating.

Because I am neither great,

nor wealthy,

yet,

I am Happy

;-)

Silence is a Word

The thing about communications is, sometimes, even when you don't say anything, even if you keep perfectly silent, you are still saying something.

So when you choose to keep quite my dear... I'm left to wonder.. what are you trying to say?

Sometimes, I actually think I do understand it.. But times like these, I just don't want to.

Everybody's Changing

Everybody’s changing...
and I don’t feel the same...
Perhaps.....
I'm changing too...

Lending To Lionel

A lot of people have been telling me that I should make a police report.  After I found out that Lionel had basically cheated me of my money, I decided to do some digging. I somehow managed to strike up a friendship with the HR lady at his former company. From there, she gave me all his details; his full name, his NRIC number, his old home phone number and even address. I called the number, which as expected, was no longer in service. I have not gone to his house yet. I don't really expect him to still live there. A simple Google search later reveal that Lionel a.k.a. Chia Tiong Beng had been involved (or allegedly involved) in cheating crimes all his life. An article dated 1960 showed that he and another friend were acquitted of cheating a hawker of some money. This was when he was still in his teens.

Another article dated 1996 in Manilla showed that Lionel and his 'wife' were arrested by the Philippine anti corruption agency for cheating Singaporean businessmen out of hundreds of thousands of dollars.

I realized then that the man that I had met was no ordinary swindler. Everything he had told me about himself fit the bill of what I just found. In hindsight, he was a skilled liar. There were many things he said and did subtly that I now realize were meant to lure me into a false sense of security.

Having a thousand dollars taken away from you tends to have an effect on you. Like I said before, I felt dumb, because when you look at it properly, this man didn't set out to cheat me. I practically offered it to him. He merely took a chance at an opening that I guess would be considered 'god sent' to him. I'm not even sure any crime has been committed. I gave him the money at my own free will. He undoubtedly represented himself with false pretenses, but unless I am wrong, verbally lying to a stranger wasn't a criminal offense.

For many days, I considered how I would now respond with my new found information. Whenever I was in Singapore, I would think about nothing except how to get my money back from this man; what I would do to him if I ever saw him again. I remained angry and bitter. I wanted to hurt this man for cheating me out of my hard earned money, however small it may seem in the grand scheme of things. It still hurts every time I look at my bank account and remembered that it's 3 digits short of what I was supposed to have. It hurts even more when I have to tell my family that this or that thing cannot be done anymore since I was out of funds.

But the whole episode has awaken me somewhat.

The pain of the sting reminded me again how valuable money is, and the importance of being prudent and cautious with it. I decided that I will try my best not to let this affect the way I chose to be charitable to others. But I will certainly be much more cautious in the way I give it out. I decided that I mustn't let this make me less trusting of people, but I needed to be wiser in taking the necessary steps to protect myself.

But there was also something else. As valuable as money was, the episode also reminded me of how there were more important things in life than money. I remembered being told of how twenty three thousand people had committed suicide after the great Wall Street Crash of 1929. My church pastors said it was because these men had made money their world and their God. And when your world and your God is lost, even your own life seems not worth living.

I admit, for the better half of the year, my mind had been obsessing with money. As I moved deeper into adulthood, I moved deeper into financial commitments, and suddenly the lack of money became something I was aware of on a daily basis. I had a house to pay for, rent to keep, people to feed, car to maintain, parents to care for, and perhaps in a year or so, children to expect. It was just a matter of time before money took center stage.

The day I admitted defeat, I went home to my wife, embraced her and declared to her "I'm sorry. I feel so stupid.". She stroked my hair, touched my cheeks and told me "It's OK dear... it's only money."

And that was the point of realization for me. Yes it was money. But it was only money. In her eyes, we had lost nothing significant that we could never replace. I guess I needed a reminder of that. It was a humbling moment for me. I was grateful to her for not wagging her finger and saying to me "I told you so.." I was grateful that she wasn't make as big a deal about it as I was.

I remembered some incident many years ago where I had also lost some money and whined about it to a friend. He said this to me "It's okay. Treat it as a tuition fees you had to pay, for the lesson you have now learned." He called this the 'University of Society' where all lessons are through practicals.

I ask myself again what I'd do if I ever bumped into Lionel again. Could I truly do as the bible says and bless the one who curses you, or turn the other cheek? Is there enough grace in my heart to forgive and forget? Do you forgive a person who has neither repented nor asked for forgiveness? Will I try to exact some sort of revenge on him?

Here's the only answer I can muster for now.

I will break his nose. But he can keep the money.

A Fool I Am

Sigh…

Life seems so hard to live at times. I’m the kind of person who usually struggles with himself internally. I have 2 minds in one body. One desiring to do what is good, right and pure all the time. The other desiring to do what is devious, immoral and much less innocent (and seemingly more fun) things. The struggle usually involves trying to muster and rally the ‘light’ part of me so that it is not overtaken by the ‘dark’. Like a single ray of light surrounded by complete darkness, the darker parts of our minds seem to always be threatening to swallow up the light.

I often second guess my own thoughts and intentions. I question my own heart. I find myself always asking if I’m doing the ‘right’ thing in life.

Last week, I found myself driving all the way into the heart of town on a Friday night, braving the horrible traffic and pouring rain. There was a man, a complete stranger, who was waiting for me. He needed what I had in my pocket. An envelope filled with a sizable amount of cash. I had never met him. I had come to know him only a few hours earlier, on the phone. A Singaporean man, stranded in KL. He told me he had lost his wallet and phone while on holiday. He needed money to clear his hotel bill and to take a bus home. His Embassy would not help him and he didn’t know anyone else. He got our number off the internet, called my office, looking for a former colleague of mine. Somehow I ended up taking the call instead, and somehow, I ended up volunteering to help him out of his predicament.

Most of the people I told had raised eyebrows. Apparently to them, this was something totally out of my character. I was less than pleased with their reaction, but I went ahead anyway. I know I’ve never been one to actively participate in charity towards others, be it the poor, needy or sickly. I frown upon giving to street beggars, I coldly turn away people soliciting diner from me over lunch, and I refuse to sign up for any monthly contributions for cancer, world hunger or any sort of humanitarian funding. But this time, for once, I felt sure that this was the right thing to do. There was a man in need of help desperately, and I was in a position to help. And so I did.

When I met him, he was nervous and jittery. I guessed he had a long day. He told me about what happened, how he lost his wallet, how he was refused help, how no one came to his aide. I gave him the cash. He left his Singaporean phone number and address with me. We agreed to meet up the following week, when I was in town. He said he wanted to repay my kindness. I felt good. I felt like for once, I had done something good for someone. I felt like I had done the right thing. It was a risk, giving money to a stranger. A few people raised doubts. “Do you think he’s genuine? Do you think he will really pay you back?” I didn’t really know. I just chose to trust in the goodness and honesty of man.

Right now, it feels more like I’ve was confirming the naivety of fools.

When I was finally back in Singapore and ready to meet the man again, I dropped him a text. It didn’t go through. I tried calling, but the line was still deactivated. Strike one. I was guessing perhaps he still hadn’t got his mobile number reclaimed. I waited a full day, but still no sign of him. I had left my business card with him, but there was no news from him. So I decided to search for his company and called his office instead. But after a 5 minute conversation with reception and a 20 minute talk with the HR department, I discovered that the man didn’t work there anymore. He had left, 10 years ago. Strike two. Still I gave it the benefit of the doubt. The lady who spoke to me seemed to know him personally from back then. She praised me for my kindness, and even vouched for the man. Said he didn’t seem the kind that’d try to pull such a thing, especially in tiny old Singapore. So I gave it one more day.

But the silence bothered me.

And so last night, after dinner I made the drive from my apartment to the address he gave. It was right across town, somewhere in Hougang. I tried imagining all the different scenarios on how this might end up. Would I find him? What would I say? Should I still play nice? Do I make a scene? Do I still try to be graceful? But the scenario that greeted me was the one I feared the most, the one I was hoping to eliminate by driving there.

The address did not exist. The block existed. The floor existed, but not the unit number. Strike three.

I was out.

I was angry. I repeatedly cursed the man under my breath. How dare he take advantage of my kindness. How dare he store me in the face, shake my hand, thank me, then stab me right in the back and run off with my money. But I was angrier at myself. I felt the fool, for naively trusting; for stubbornly choosing to be wide eyed and innocent, even when others were blowing caution to the wind. What was I trying to do, feed my own ego by acting the part of the generous, graceful, good Samaritan?

The one time I decided to act gracefully and innocently became the one time I am reminded why there is very little place for such things in this fallen world. It would seem that in this world, to keep our innocence will mean being fools willing to suffer the indignities of the world. 

If being good is to be a fool, then perhaps, a fool I was meant to be.

Good night world.

Dumb Phones

"You so need to get a Blackberry man..."

And I just smiled.

Not that I haven't thought about it any more. . I had considered it a while back. After all, smartphones are all the craze these days. It would seem almost everyone has it these days. Today, I talked to someone who was carrying 2 smartphones. Perhaps one just wasn't smart enough.

On one hand, I felt that having a smartphone wasn't really that smart. You have internet connection practically everywhere these days. The data plan itself would cost something you could easily eat a weeks worth of lunches for. The phones itself were pretty expensive (to me anyway). And as with my previous post, I already feel like I'm overconnected to the world as it is.

But on the other hand, I still found those black little berry to be incredibly cool to hold and touch...

Hence, this great debate went on in my head... with me giving myself 101 reasons why I'd be so stupid to get one.. and with me telling my other self that I could reason however much I wanted, I'd still want what I want.

Till I read somewhere online... someone made a statement that he felt smartphones actually made people dumb zombies. Because people with smartphones seem to be perpetually looking at their tiny phone communicating with God knows who on screens even when there are people in the flesh and blood around them, and even when they are at what would probably be the most beautiful place on earth...

And that pretty much settled the arguement for me. I wasn't going to get a smartphone unless it was free.

And it's not like all the phones before that were that dumb.

Cheers

of Fatherhood

This weekend would mark the 1^st year of my wedding anniversary.  I guess you could say it’s quite a milestone. To be honest, I didn’t really realize it until my boss (of all people) came up to me and reminded me about it. I found it quite amusing that my own boss knew my own wedding better than I did.

A year plus back, the question most people had for me was “So, how do you feel about getting married?”. A little than less of a year back, the question was “So, how’s married life?” This time around, its “So, when are you going to have kids?”

I know most people ask it as a courtesy of sorts. And in many ways, they are perfectly normal questions. After all, these are the natural progressions of people who step into marriage. My parents and some of our closer friends seem almost more excited over the prospects of having kids than we are.

But honestly, it bothers me.

My wife constantly asks “Don’t you want children?”

My standard reply would be “Of course I want them, just not yet.”

She’s ready, I know. I think she’s been ready since day one of our marriage.

But I’m not…………….. at least I don’t feel like I am.

She’d give me this “You’re such a typical guy…” kind of look. And I suddenly feel like I’m back in the same position I was about 2 years ago. Back then, I seemed to be running away from the idea of marriage, and now I seemed to be running away from the idea of parenthood. As for my wife, she’s way ahead of me emotionally, waiting for me with arms crossed, asking me “I’m ready, you’re not. When are you going to get there?”

But I understand myself. I’m not the sort of guy that takes changes easily. I’m slow when it comes to emotional adjustments. I need time for things to sink in. I need time to get used to new roles I’ve been put in life. And right now, it seems like I’m just getting used to the idea of being someone’s husband. It’s been only a year, but already I feel like I haven’t been a very good one. So, who am I to say I’m ready to be a father? How do you progress on to the next level while you haven’t even mastered the current one? I am reminded of the Calvin and Hobbes comic… where Calvin’s father say he wouldn’t have been in such a hurry if he knew being an adult was so ad-libbed. 

I guess my uneasiness boils down to two things. First, I don’t think I’m good enough to be a father yet. I know to many, it comes naturally. Many women seem to have some sort of maternal instincts built into them that naturally comes out the minute they pick up a baby. Many men I observe also seem to take up fatherhood so effortlessly. But I don’t feel like I am one of them. If I am going to be a father, I’d want to do it right. And right now, if I haven’t sorted out the mess in my own head, I have no business trying to raise a child.

Secondly, it’s my own life. I’m comfortable with the way things are. You could say I even like it. I l enjoy the freedom I have. I already have parents and in laws that are dependent on me. Having a little mini me just feels like another financial burden (as selfish as that sounds) that I’m not quite ready for yet. In my meanest and most blunt manner, I once say to my brother “Well… if he (my father in law) dies and he (my brother in law) moves out, then, ya, I’d be ready for a baby.” I know money isn’t everything. And it seems so crude to be talking about children as if it was something you should want only when you can afford it.

With great faith that even I cannot muster, my wife believes that whatever it is, things will work out fine. That God will provide for our every need. There I realized the difference. While I may know more about God and the bible than she did, she put her faith, hope and trust in God while I placed mine in myself. I am acting exactly the way my father did.

*Shrugs*

Perhaps if it is my fate to be a father soon, I should start looking at my own father too… the one in heaven that is.

Money Matters

“Do you think I’ve lost my bearings?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… do you think I’ve lost sight of what’s important?”

“Maybe…. Ya… A bit I guess… You have been obsessing about money more than I like.”

“Yes, I know. But that’s because I feel very strongly that it’s my duty to provide… and I need to do that well. I feel as if the things I do in the coming few years will impact us for the rest of our lives. If I am to provide more than enough for this family in the future… I need to do something now. But I don’t know if what I can provide is going to be enough. I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to put us in a nice big house, afford all the things we want or travel the places we want to see together.”

“Don’t worry dear… whatever you can provide…it will be enough… I don’t need a lot to be happy. We don’t need a lot of money to be happy.”

The thought of money (or the lack of it) had been constantly looming over me of late. It’s a simple thought. “How am I going to find enough money for all the things that require it?” Every single time I pulled out a few hundred dollars from my pocket to be given for medicine, groceries, household necessities, bills, rent… I fear that I’d not have enough the next time I need to pull some out again.

It’s not like I had no income at all. It’s not like we had no place to stay or food to eat. It’s the sheer speed in which the money comes in every beginning of the month gets wiped away so quickly that scares me. What if one day, that money stops coming in… and bills still need to be paid?

I realize that nothing I say here is news to adults the world over. A big part of being an adult would mean tackling and managing these issues. And for a big part of this year, you could say that my singular focus was on trying to manage all the money coming in and going out of my pocket. I suddenly become very aware of the fact that there is fierce competition in the world on what you should do with your money.

Telco’s tell you that you absolutely need an iphone, blackberry of some sort of ‘smart’ phone with a data plan because not having one is so last decade. Insurance agents hound you, scaring you with cost of medical treatment, mutual fund agents warn you on the foolishness of people who don’t invest their money, investors tell you to invest in everything from gold bars, land, blue chip stocks, Islamic funds, bonds, insurance plans and even burial plots (no kidding), credit card companies call you and splash money in your face with deceptively low interest rates per annum, older folks tell you to invest in property quickly before everything becomes unaffordable, friends ask you out for Friday night drinks at bars that sell beer at the cost if liquid gold, airline companies (and other friends) ask you to go on overseas holidays since air travel has become affordable, cancer society and various NGO’s approach you asking you for donations for  well deserved causes, direct marketers push you to buy their super duper washing liquid that cleans both your hair, face, body, car and toilet bowl with a minty fresh scent, random strangers walk up to you asking you to buy lottery tickets, homeless beggars with no leg reach out their hands asking for a dollar.

And at every junction… there is always the same question to be answer.

Should I or should I not put my money here? What is the right thing to do?

I realize that being in charge of your own finances, your own wellbeing, and that of your entire household is tougher than it seems. It’s not so easy trying to be not too emotionally involved in it, yet still be on top of things. Men of ancient days brought food to the table by arming themselves with spears and knives. We don’t carry physical spears and knives anymore. Things have change. But it’s no less easy living in this digital jungle today. I might not be a dad just yet. But I suddenly understand how it’s like for them.

Renewing Bonds

I received a surprise call from one of my old college friends the other day.

He was actually the very first person I befriended when I started life in college. In fact, he was the only one I considered a 'friend' in my first year. In my second year, I made a few more. By the end of my forth year, I counted only 5 as 'friends' in the truest sense. The language might have been a barrier, but I think I was slow to make friends in those years. Perhaps even now.

And the thing about talking to old friends.. is that you always end up talking about all the others in the same batch. We were in the same clique after all.

It would seem none of us bothered keeping much in contact with each other. Not much of a surprise there. Half of that was actually my own doing. As I write this, all of them are away. One went on a working holiday to Australia for a year, another is in Singapore and another is off the shores of Sarawak drilling for oil. But that isn't much of an excuse. Even when they were right here in KL, I never bothered calling them. Not even a sms, chat or instant message. I was never interested to. And I guess neither were they. Some friends we are huh?

It wasn't like we had any falling out.We still chatted like old pals when we met. But I felt the bonds slowly growing thin.... and I didn't feel the need to strengthen them before they eventually broke. Perhaps I am being arrogant and reclusive.

I ask myself why with some, I feel so eager to fuel and keep the fires of friendship going... even if it meant going out of my way to call or meet them, whereas with some, I simply couldn't be bothered.

A simplistic way of seeing is is that I am merely moving on. That there was a time and place for those things.. but now.. it's time to move on to other things. But if that were so, why do I not feel that way about every other friendship? What distinguishes bonds that do lead you to a desire to renew and maintain it, and those that don't?

*Shrughs*

The closest I've gotten to an answer is this:

We keep in touch with people we are still able to identify with. People whom, when we look at them... some part of them... is just like us. That when we look at them.. we see ourselves.. or at least a hint of it. And when we associate that person to ourselves... an emotional bond develops. They become...almost an extension of us...and that's why whenever we feel that connection fading... as if an extension of us is close to being severed.... we feel the need to mend it.

Make sense much?

No?

I knew I shouldn't have drank that coffee...

Good night folks..

Dum Di Dum Di Dum...

I've always loved this song from the very first day I heard it more than 12 years ago. I was playing the song on my computer and dancing in the goofiest of ways in front of my other half when she said a smile on her face "This song is so you..."I stopped and just gave her an even sillier smile. This wasn't the first time someone has said that to me. A close friend of mine has said that to me on numerous occasions. The only thing that bothers me is that they never consider the songs they associate with me as cool. They know that one of my old time favourite classics is this one by Billy Joel. and this one from the Proclaimers. They kind of wonder why a guy born in the mid 80's like would like music belonging to the previous generation.

Actually, I happen to know exactly why I like each of these songs. Because I think they are cool in their own way.

Quizzical by Juliet the Orange is fun because it t's one of those rare songs sang from a woman's perspective about their own insecurities about being too ugly, too plain or too whatever... and it gets projected onto this love song to the man she sings to.... asking him "I can't cook.. my toes are huge, I'm messy, I've got issues, I'm clingy.. .Are you sure you'd want to be with a girl like me?  "  And it's all sang in a rather light hearted manner. Combining humour, emotion and poetry into a melody....What's not to like? Pretty awesome piece of song writing if you ask me. I'm so hoping you'd find the song cooler now that you've read that. :-P 

As for We didn't Start the Fire by Billy Joel is a song I discovered out of chance... at a Karaoke session with some buddies. Our Spanish speaking Peruvian buddy and his good friend started singing (or rather screaming) it... and by the end of the song, I was speechless... both at their singing.. and the lyrics of the song. I've always been interested in History. And this actually a running social commentry of current event all they way from the 60s to 80s... in the form of a song! How can you not find that cool? I mean.. it even rhymes! I don't care if anyone else thinks its geeky or lame. I love it.

And that last one.. 500 miles by the Proclaimers.... it's a song sang by Scottish twin brothers about a man that would..... walk 500 miles and 500 more just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door.... tadadada... tadadada..tadadadumdadaddadum..dum... Actually.. I just like singing along to it. It's not really awesome in any hidden way... just really really fun. :-P

Anyway, it's 2.00am as I write this. I'm pretty sure tomorrow I'll be cursing myself in the morning for singing silly songs in the middle of the night instead sleeping. So good night folks.... If you have a lame song that you secretly find cool for reasons of your own... do share it with me!

Cheers!

Google +/- ?!

Someone sent me an invitation to join Google+. I had left that mail in my inbox and ignored it for 2 months. Finally I decided "Oh what the hell.. no harm trying.." and clicked join.

5 minutes later, I deleted my Google+ account.

Not that I didn't like it.

I just didn't have the energy to start out over on another social networking site. My Facebook is already rather neglected.... who am I to start another social networking account.

I started out with Friendster.. which was quite novel at the time. I skipped Hi5, Myspace and a slew of other randowm networking sites. Couldn't dodge Facebook. Hated Buzz and now, Google+ has been automatically disqualifed for no fault of its own.

I think we live in an age of over connectivity. Those who live in the city already have internet all the time. People who carry iPhones and Blackberrys have their emails in their pockets. Things like WhatsApp or BBM make texting each other a breeze. It's making it ever more convenient for us to connect to one another, but it's not actually making us want to.Or maybe that's just me. I don't want to be connected and contactable all the time. Even with my own boss, colleague, wife or family, I sometimes deliberately ignore their calls. It's fatigue from over connectivity.

When two people have a desire to connect, they will find a way. Once upon a time, it was letters, then telegrams, then phone, then emails, then instant messaging. Today, it's all of the above. Yet, I still find myself no where closer to catching up with people I've promised to catch up with so many weeks and months ago.

An old friend asked me a while ago why I was never on MSN chat. I said I never bother to... and asked why she did. She said it was a great way to keep in touch with everyone at one time. I said if you wanted to keep in touch with me, all you had to do was call. We could talk over the phone or meet up. That's catching up to me.

We are born with 5 senses ;sight, smell, sound and touch and taste. These are the gateways we experience life and each other. If we chat computer to computer, I don't see you in the flesh, I don't smell your scent, I don't hear your voice, I can't touch your skin... and I obviously can't taste you. But if we meet face to face, I see you before my eyes, I can detect you scent, I can hear you loud and clear, I can hold you and make eye physical contact. I obviously still won't taste you (since licking your friends seems rather inappropriate for cannibalistic or sexual reasons). BUT, we do share a meal together, hence a shared experience of taste right?

Anyway, what it really boils down to is this. I' not a hermit. I enjoy keeping in touch with my social circle.... in the flesh and blood that is. The over connectivity I'm talking about is the over connectivity to the virtual world. In the virtual word, 'smileys; 'lol' and other assorted abbreviations and internet lingo become substitute for real human interaction. Which too me, is kinda like being short changed. You want life like a really hearty and wholesome home cooked dinner. Not a genetically modified, artifically flavoured, mass produced burger from crappy fast food chain.

That's why whenever I feel a strong connection with someone, I inevitable have the urge to meet them. Our own minds tell us that there is more to connectivity than just the instant part of it.

Is what I'm saying making any sense to anyone else? 

It's All Your Fault?

One of the things I hate hearing the most when getting involved in an arguement is this

"You make me sound so stupid"... or "You made me angry." or "It's your fault I'm feeling this way..."

My blood boils everytime I hear it. If I was upset before, hearing those kind of works just makes it worse. I'd usually retort with a "I didn't make you sound anyway.."I didn't make you angry"... You got that way yourself... because "I don't control how you feel!"

It annoys me because it implies that I am responsible for that persons feelings. Not that I don't care about the other persons feelings, I do. If I am responsible for your feelings, then you aren't then I am held liable to whatever unpleasant outcome you feelings will now lead to.

Basically, whatever you do now that you are upset, is all my fault.

Which is rubbish if you ask me.

Everyone is ultimately responsible for their own feelings. As cliche and overused as that sounds, its true. The things we do and say will always affect the people around us. The closer you are, the more pronounced that effect is. A harsh word from someone close to you will always hurt more than if spoken by a stranger. We acknoweledge that we are affected by the things others do and say. And that's where the line gets blurred and all this "You made me..." line start coming out.

There's a different betwee saying "I feel stupid" and "You made me feel stupid." I resent the second because more than adding just causality, it tells me that the person is unable (or more likely) unwilling to take ownership of their own feelings.

I have never used that line ever in an arguement. Maybe thats rather arrogant of me to say, but it's true. While I do have feelings just like everyone else. I do know how it feels to feel hurt or angry after hearing harsh, uncalled, or cruel words. But I have never forgotten the fact that I am the master of my own heart. More than just being responsible of it's condition, I am the captain and steward of my own emotions. If I am headed to rocky waters.. painful as it is, I still need to steer it to safety.

So the next time time you find yourself about to utter those kinds of words, try to hold your tongue for a moment. Because if you don't, I'll start to get upset again, and it will be all your fault.

:P

RIP Steve

Sorry I haven't posted anything lately. Busy is the lame, but nonetheless valid excuse I'm giving. The excuse I'm about to give is.... that I have nothing to write. Though life continues to go on, events continue to unfold, there has been nothing compelling enough for me to pen down beyond the random pieces of thoughts that would belong more on a twitter post than on a blog like this.

Steve Job died today. I remember being so impressed with his famous speech on ted.com to Stanford University graduates about how to live before you die. That was 6 years ago when he was first diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He talked about how he said ''Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart." I admired that about the man. It would seem he lived a truly remarkable life by embracing his impending death.

We aren't all Steve Jobs. Only a minoriy of people ever truly live remarkable lives, doing things that would affect millions of people. The rest of us would most likely live unremarkable, ordinary lives. Remarkable people are the exception, the rest of us are the rule.  Not that there is anything shameful about that.If there is anything I think Steve Jobs was trying to say in his speech was to measure your life against yourself, kind of like a game of golf. "Your time is limited. Don't waste your time living someone elses life" he said...The only handicap you needed to improve on was your own. You had to trust your own gut and intuition to do what you think is right, instead of following what the world tells you you need to do.  He did a lot of great work in his life at Apple..He loved what he did, and people loved the things he did. The secret to those great work was this... "You've got to find what you love...... The only way to do great work, is to love what you do..."

It's funny....  that truly importan things only become apparent to us when we realize that we could lose it at any moment. The fact that whatever it is we have in our possession, isn't really something we own perpetually, but rather something we steward over momentarily. In this case, life itself. We have this life to live, but it's not meant forever. We build friendships, but they too come and go. The things we have and the money we earn, all eventually get passed on to others, either through our own doing or death. Nothing this side of heaven is ever permanent. It's fleeting. And I guess that's what makes it beautiful.

RIP Steve Jobs.

And good night my friend. You are on my mind as always.

My Fav Shots

One thing that I perhaps seldom mention is my love for photography.

I've always liked viewing and taking pictures. Life has always been a sequence of fleeting moments. And to me, pictures have always been the medium in which all that fleeting moment in life is freezed for us to savour after it is gone. Things like a breathtaking view, a warm smile, a tender moment, a heartbreaking sight... things like that make up the many memories we carry with us as we move forward in life.

Anyway, just on a whimp, here are some pictures which I'd like to share. I hope you like them. (click to enlarge) They are all taken locally in Malaysia. I've entered them into a competition. Hopefully, it wins me something!

Have a good weekend my friend.

Zen By the Beach

Purple Sea

A View of Luxury

They Don't Care

Sunsets on the Sea

Waves

Two Halves of Happiness

A Vista At Home

You'd Work There Too

Crawlies on the Floor

It Is Well With My Soul

We sat in silence, watching as my 3rd Uncle played a Theresa Teng song on his guitar and harmonica. It was a touching dedication to my grandmother. The song was one of her favourites. 3rd Uncle had sung it to her almost 12 years ago in the same black vest and white shirt. It was a repeat performance. Just like last time, all her children and grandchildren were present. But back then, it was for her birthday. This time, it was at her funeral.

My father was always the kind to put up a brave front. I wanted him to know he didn’t have to. I got up from my seat and walked over to him. I didn’t want him to sit alone. As I sat, he placed an arm around me, his other to his face. I could tell he was shedding tears. Earlier, as we chatted privately, he told me how he never cried when my grandfather died almost twenty years ago. But this time, it was different. We had spent the last few hours chatting, and he seemed almost nonchalant about the whole thing. But I understood my father. He was the kind that hid intense feelings behind casual conversation. It was a kind of coping mechanism. I put my arm around his shoulder and bowed my head as the pastor said the final prayer.

My grandmother was a feisty and determined woman. She had a stroke when she was only 29, after giving birth to her fourth child. Yet, in all she managed to raise six children with the little money her husband earned as a policeman. She had never step foot into a school in her life, yet she understood the importance of education and how to spend wisely. In her Eulogy, my third Aunt revealed how each and every sibling had borrowed money from their mother at one point or another in their lives. She never turned them away empty handed, even when the children didn’t always return the money. In fact, she made it a point to help out any other relative who was in need. She was every bit the matriarch of the family.

No one other than her children, grandchildren and relatives would ever know or remember my grandmother. But to her children, she was the greatest. In ending her eulogy, my third aunt proudly declared that grandma was the best mother in the world. And at that last line, all the siblings nodded and shed tears. Sad as it was, her death came almost as a relief. She had been bed ridden and in an almost vegetative like state for almost four years. She was a pale shadow of who she used to be before her second stroke. My uncles and aunts had tried so hard initially to put her on the road of recovery. And when it was apparent that there was not going to be a recovery, they focused instead on making her comfortable. The last time I visited her, I couldn’t tell if she could still recognize me. Her eyes stared blankly, but my father insisted that she could still hear and could still feel touch. So I reached out and held her hand. It was actually the first time I had actually touched my grandmother. My relatives had never been particularly touchy. It turned out to also be the last.

After the prayer, we were all called to give our last respects to grandmother before her body was to be sent for cremation. We all gathered around her coffin, looking at her through the glass. The undertakers had dressed her in her best cloths and her hands were placed above her heart, almost like in a praying position. My third aunt sobbed openly. My uncles stared in gloomy silence. Most of the grandchildren were holding on to their parents, trying to offer comfort. My mother stood next to my brother. Many many years ago, my mother had tried sharing her faith with my grandmother. But my grandmother rejected her. She defiantly declared that money was her god, probably to spite my mother. But here we were today, saying farewell to her in a Christian ceremony. She had converted almost 2 years ago, after her stroke, when one of her sons approached her again on the matter. I reminded my mother of this later over tea, and she nodded her head with a smile. “God works in his own ways…” she said.

Indeed.

I found it ironic, that my own father, once a theological scholar, a preacher and once the beacon of faith in my family, who knew and understood so many things about faith, had none of it in his heart……. while my grandmother, bed ridden and unable to talk, unable to ever read or study the scriptures, who once idolized money, could accept the faith offered to her at the end of her life.

The ending song was the beautiful and comforting hymn “It is well with my soul”. A song with great meaning, and a great story behind it. Among the chorus of voices, I could hear my father, singing it with all his heart. I was sure he knew the story of it too… And through his tone, I felt that perhaps with the way things turned out for my grandmother, it was well with his soul too…

Please let me share this song with you, and the story behind it, in memory of my grandmother. A song I have been singing to myself since last Sunday.

Sad News

Various Artists - Amazing Grace Mp3
Mp3-Codes.com

I received an alarming message from my brother early in the morning.

"I just got news... Ah Ma is dying..."

11.00pm I got another message from him


"Ah Ma just passed away. She breath her last breath just moments ago."


What sad news to start the morning. After lunch I made my way back to KL.. there was to be a Wake on Saturday and a Funeral on Sunday.. then it was back to Singapore for me..

The 4 hours drive back north, my thoughts lingered on my grandmother. She was the typical chinese grandmother type.. wearing floral 'ah  ma' cloths as sort of a uniform, swearing profusely in Hokkien whenever she was angry, and always reminding us not to talk while eating dinner. That was before the stroke. Her last few months of life was spent mostly in bed. She could neither move, talk or feed herself anymore after her second stroke. The last time I saw her, I wondered which would be crueler... keeping her alive and in pain like this, or allowing her to die a natural death. I guess the question is moot now.

Her death isn't unexpected, but sad nonetheless. I have many mixed feelings in receving this news. I was never particularly close to her. Yet there are things about my relationship with her that I remember till today. Many small incidences, insignificant as they were, somehow remain embedded in my memory even till today. I will write about it more when I get the time.

She was my grandmother, the mother to my father. Her blood runs in my veins too. Without her, there would be no me today. And for that, she has always had my respect.


May your soul ascend to the skies and find its a welcome in the house of God where from above, He, and now you, watch over all of us...

Rest In Peace Ah Ma....