If I'm being honest

If you died today

2012-01-21T10:26:00.001+08:00

If you died today, who will miss you most?

Would it be your boss? Would it be your colleagues? Would it be your friends? Would it be your family?

If you died today, who will find it hardest to move on?
Your telco company? Your bank? Your other half? Your family?

If you died today, what will you worry about the most after you are gone?
Your unfinished work in office? The state of politics in your country? Your family?

Every now and then, I lose perspective of what's important. It's sad that it often takes something dramatic to happen, like someone we personally know dying suddenly, before we are reminded again on what are the truly important things in life.

The Little Playground

2012-01-20T09:32:00.000+08:00

There is a small park behind my house. I go there every other morning, before I go to work. It's a humble little park. In fact, its not even a park. It's just a playground, not unlike countless other playgrounds you'll see around suburban KL...I just call it a park because when you've lived in cities long enough, any patch of grass feels like a park. But for a small little park, I have found it to be amazing. There are children playing around the swings. There are young boys having a game of basketball. There is a trio of old men brisk walking together, catching up on the latest gossip. I hear birds chirping in the trees and I see the neighbourhood dog rolling happily over the grass. There is an old man that brings his granddaughter to the slides. He watches on with a proud smile as the little girl climbs up and down. It is an amazing little park. There is a lady there who, like me, comes every other morning. It's hard not to notice her because she's the only resident there who is white. She comes with her baby, barely a few months old. She looks eastern European to me, but it's only a guess. The kids like to stare at her. They find it extraordinary that there is a 'mat salleh' lady in such a place, far far away from where other expatriates usually live. But after a while, everyone accepts it. The first time I smiled at her, she was quite taken aback. Maybe it was too sudden, or maybe I should have combed my hair before gong in public. The second time, I ventured a simple Good Morning (with a smile of course). She nodded back in acknowledgement. I hope she doesnt think I'm a creep.It's amazing to behold in a snapshot, the full spectrum of life in such a simple place. To have people of all ages and background gather here like that is, to me, a beautiful thing. It makes the place feel full of life and intimate. You see the same faces coming and going and it becomes familiar. To the point where even if you don't really know these people, you somehow do anyway.There is a bus stop next to the park. Most people sit in bus stops facing the front,waiting for the bus. But at this bus stop, some of them prefer facing the back. Because that's where the park is. They see the same thing I see. Old men walking, young men exercising, small kids playing, mothers cradling, dogs rolling on the ground. I guess I'm not the only one who thinks this park is amazing. Oh wait, I mean playground. Oh, who cares anyway....

Another Day to Live

2012-01-10T02:26:00.000+08:00

For about ten minutes, I seriously thought my time to die had come today.

It was when the lights went dim and the pilot announced "Flight attendants, please take your seats for landing.." But instead of descending, the plane swerved violently and started to make a sharp dive then a sharp climb. Everyone in the plane was started. I felt an intensity of the G-Force pushing down on me as the plane seemed to climb desperately. I spontaneously let out a low groan. It seemed everyone around me felt it too. I could feel the intensity of the wind. And sitting at the back rows of the plane, the feeling of being tossed around could only have been worse.

I had been on many flights before, and this was certainly not normal. Pilots don't suddenly decide to go all roller-coaster immediately after announcing a landing. Perhaps at the very last minute before touching down, the pilot had to abort the landing due to an unexpected wind. Whatever it was, it scared me. I switched off my MP3 player and started paying attention. The little boy next to me was terrified. And his mom was trying hard to reassure her. But I could feel her mothers nervous energy. To my left, the man sitting next to me had tightened his seat belt for the third time.

I didn't know what to do. There was nothing I could do anyway. I thought of all those disaster movies, where the poor characters all are stuck on a place that's about to crash, and the hero comes up to the crowd and says "If you believe in God, now's a good time to start praying..." There was no hero in my plane, but I started praying anyway. I suddenly understood why some people were so terrified of flying. There was absolutely nothing you can do if something bad was about to happen. Your life literally depends on 3 parties; the pilot whose flying the plane, the engineer who built and maintains the plane, and most importantly, God himself who decides which wind blows your way. You just had to trust that they each would do what they promised to do; one to fly, the other to fix and the last one, to save.

So I closed my eyes and started praying. Or at least I tried to. It all came out in an incoherent mix of fear, hope and faith. What you have no time to think, the things most important to you, usually come out most naturally...

"Oh God... help us. Help us get through this safely. If its possible, not yet God, not yet. I can't die yet. My family needs me. They need me. Please God. But if I really die God.. if I really die.. then let them be OK... Please let them be OK...."

That Garth Brooks song started playing in my head.... "If tomorrow never comes, will she know how much I loved her? Is the love I gave in the past, going to be enough to last, if tomorrow never comes?" I closed my eyes and started visualizing my own funeral... with my father, mother, brother, wife, friends all standing around sobbing. Would they ever know that my dying thoughts were on them? Will they be alright? Funny that my thoughts were more on those who would survive me rather than on my own death. I kind of knew that once I was dead, that was it. In the blackness of death, a day would be a thousand years. And a thousand years would be a day. But for those who lived on, it would be weeks, months, years and decades of sadness and lost.

Hours earlier, my wife hugged me closely and said to me "Come home safely OK dear.. I can't afford to lose you." I had always brushed talked like that aside. To me, I wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon, so there was no need for such talk. But right now, sitting in a plane being tossed by the winds so easily... her worries didn't seem so unfounded after all. After about 20 minutes of circling around, waiting for the weather to subside, the pilot announced that we will be making the 'final' approach to land. The most dangerous part of a flight is often the landing. I was still recovering from the earlier failed landing attempt. I didn't like the 'final' part in his sentence. It was still raining heavily. I wondered if perhaps we should wait longer before trying again?

Needless to say, this isn't written from the great beyond, and I didn't die. The pilot landed us safely and we arrived in one piece. Although everyone did seem more eager than usual to get out of the plane. The little boy next to me was smiling again. And as for me... well, I kind of laugh at myself.. it felt as if I had gone overboard in my own thoughts (again). Perhaps I wasn't quite at the brink of death as I thought I was.

Sitting in the taxi heading to the hotel, I thought about it a bit more. It didn't really matter if I wasn't technically really going to die. Emotionally, it felt real. Emotionally, in that short ten minutes (that seemed to last an eternity), I had given the prospect of my immediate death very serious consideration. And as expected, the fear associated with it sprung out so great, I was hardly able to contain it. Had something else not sprung at the same time, I don't think I could have taken it so well. That something else was faith. While a big part of me is not ready to die, a big part of me also believes that all things are in the hands of God. If my time was indeed up, I had to trust that God knows what He's doing... and that He would take care of the ones I loved most... and that if I were meant to die today, in the grand scheme of things, it was never going to be without purpose or meaning.

So thank you God... for keeping me safe today. You answered my prayer, and you gave me one more day. I'm calling my family... to tell them I love them. Thank you for that.

2012

2012-01-01T17:27:00.001+08:00

It’s 2012.

How time flies. Just like that, another year is gone. It seems the year passed with the blink of an eye doesn’t it? But then again, we say that every year don’t we? Every year seems to past by just as fast as the year before, and before you know it, it is the years that have flown by so fast.

It’s usually the time people reflect on the year that has just passed. It’s also the time people lay out their resolutions (and hopes) for the year to come. I’m tempted to start listing mine here, but I will spare you the agony of having to read them.

I’ve been rather silent in the past year. I don’t write as much as I used to. I can’t really explain why yet. A simple answer would be that I have nothing to write about. But that’s not always true. Many things have happened that I chose not to write about. I would say I don’t have the time, and this would be somewhat true. In between working in a demanding job and starting a new family, I have had very little time to simply sit down alone and have time to myself to write. But I think I have also changed. Sometimes I would jot them down somewhere. But when it comes down to it, I simple never bother to finish my post. I guess on an emotional level, you can say I have moved on to another phase. I no longer feel that need to pen down every emotion that I experience throughout the week. It just doesn’t seem like a big enough of a deal to be recorded in writing.

I also think it’s got a lot to do with the phase in life I am in right now. Once upon a time, I would write a lot about my mother and my ordeals in growing up in a broken and dysfunctional family. Then, I wrote a lot about my other half, about love and about life itself… many things I have come to experience as a young adult for the first time. But right now, to be honest, I am at a stage where there is no drama. There is no heart wrenching incident, there is no tear shedding moment. For this chapter of my life, God has granted me peace. A peace I am savoring every single day by not being in front of the computer, but instead, in front of the people I love. To me, this peace brings about a special kind of joy. A joy that - if I were to try to describe it - is neither loud nor always obvious, but present nonetheless. Like a smile rather than a laugh. Perhaps content is a better word. If I have written very little, it is because I have been busy being happy. And that is the priceless gift I have been given this past year, for which I am deeply grateful.

My greatest wish for 2012 would be just that; that I would again be too busy being happy.. Hopefully, the same would happen for you too.

Happy New Year dear friend. I hope all is well with you.

Warmest Regards
Me

Merry Christmas'11

2011-12-24T16:56:00.001+08:00

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

2011-12-04T23:30:00.001+08:00

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

2011-12-02T19:28:00.001+08:00

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

2011-11-25T12:16:00.001+08:00

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

Lending To Lionel

2011-11-21T16:04:00.001+08:00

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

2011-11-11T00:29:00.001+08:00

Sigh…

Life seems sohard to live at times. I’m the kind of person who usually struggles withhimself internally. I have 2 minds in one body. One desiring to do what isgood, 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 struggleusually involves trying to muster and rally the ‘light’ part of me so that itis not overtaken by the ‘dark’. Like a single ray of light surrounded bycomplete darkness, the darker parts of our minds seem to always be threateningto swallow up the light.

I oftensecond guess my own thoughts and intentions. I question my own heart. I findmyself always asking if I’m doing the ‘right’ thing in life.

Last week, Ifound 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 completestranger, who was waiting for me. He needed what I had in my pocket. Anenvelope filled with a sizable amount of cash. I had never met him. I had cometo know him only a few hours earlier, on the phone. A Singaporean man, strandedin KL. He told me he had lost his wallet and phone while on holiday. He neededmoney to clear his hotel bill and to take a bus home. His Embassy would nothelp him and he didn’t know anyone else. He got our number off the internet, calledmy office, looking for a former colleague of mine. Somehow I ended up taking thecall instead, and somehow, I ended up volunteering to help him out of hispredicament.

Most of thepeople I told had raised eyebrows. Apparently to them, this was somethingtotally out of my character. I was less than pleased with their reaction, but Iwent ahead anyway. I know I’ve never been one to actively participate incharity towards others, be it the poor, needy or sickly. I frown upon giving tostreet 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 hungeror any sort of humanitarian funding. But this time, for once, I felt sure thatthis 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 toldme about what happened, how he lost his wallet, how he was refused help, how noone came to his aide. I gave him the cash. He left his Singaporean phone numberand address with me. We agreed to meet up the following week, when I was intown. He said he wanted to repay my kindness. I felt good. I felt like foronce, I had done something good for someone. I felt like I had done the rightthing. It was a risk, giving money to a stranger. A few people raised doubts. “Doyou think he’s genuine? Do you think he will really pay you back?” I didn’treally 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 wasfinally back in Singapore and ready to meet the man again, I dropped him atext. It didn’t go through. I tried calling, but the line was stilldeactivated. Strike one. I was guessing perhaps he still hadn’t got his mobilenumber reclaimed. I waited a full day, but still no sign of him. I had left mybusiness card with him, but there was no news from him. So I decided to searchfor his company and called his office instead. But after a 5 minuteconversation with reception and a 20 minute talk with the HR department, Idiscovered 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 meseemed 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 pullsuch a thing, especially in tiny old Singapore. So I gave it one more day.

But thesilence bothered me.

And so lastnight, 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 differentscenarios on how this might end up. Would I find him? What would I say? ShouldI still play nice? Do I make a scene? Do I still try to be graceful? But thescenario that greeted me was the one I feared the most, the one I was hoping toeliminate by driving there.

The addressdid 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 mykindness. How dare he store me in the face, shake my hand, thank me, then stabme right in the back and run off with my money. But I was angrier at myself. Ifelt the fool, for naively trusting; for stubbornly choosing to be wide eyedand innocent, even when others were blowing caution to the wind. What was Itrying to do, feed my own ego by acting the part of the generous, graceful,good Samaritan?

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

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

Good night world.

Dumb Phones

2011-11-01T20:41:00.001+08:00

"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

2011-10-27T20:26:00.001+08:00

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

A year plus back, the question most people had for me was “So, how doyou feel about getting married?”. A little than less of a year back, thequestion was “So, how’s married life?” This time around, its “So, when are yougoing 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 naturalprogressions of people who step into marriage. My parents and some of ourcloser friends seem almost more excited over the prospects of having kids thanwe 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 Isuddenly 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 berunning away from the idea of parenthood. As for my wife, she’s way ahead of meemotionally, waiting for me with arms crossed, asking me “I’m ready, you’renot. When are you going to get there?”

But I understand myself. I’m not the sort of guy that takes changeseasily. I’m slow when it comes to emotional adjustments. I need time for thingsto sink in. I need time to get used to new roles I’ve been put in life. Andright now, it seems like I’m just getting used to the idea of being someone’shusband. It’s been only a year, but already I feel like I haven’t been a verygood one. So, who am I to say I’m ready to be a father? How do you progress onto the next level while you haven’t even mastered the current one? I amreminded of the Calvin and Hobbes comic… where Calvin’s father say he wouldn’thave 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’mgood enough to be a father yet. I know to many, it comes naturally. Many womenseem to have some sort of maternal instincts built into them that naturallycomes out the minute they pick up a baby. Many men I observe also seem to takeup fatherhood so effortlessly. But I don’t feel like I am one of them. If I amgoing to be a father, I’d want to do it right. And right now, if I haven’tsorted 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 haveparents and in laws that are dependent on me. Having a little mini me justfeels like another financial burden (as selfish as that sounds) that I’m notquite ready for yet. In my meanest and most blunt manner, I once say to mybrother “Well… if he (my father in law) dies and he (my brother in law) movesout, then, ya, I’d be ready for a baby.” I know money isn’t everything. And itseems so crude to be talking about children as if it was something you shouldwant only when you can afford it.

With great faith that even I cannot muster, my wife believes thatwhatever it is, things will work out fine. That God will provide for our everyneed. There I realized the difference. While I may know more about God and thebible than she did, she put her faith, hope and trust in God while I placedmine 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 atmy own father too… the one in heaven that is.

Money Matters

2011-10-25T20:13:00.002+08:00

“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 morethan I like.”

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

“Don’t worry dear… whatever you can provide…it will be enough… I don’tneed 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 loomingover me of late. It’s a simple thought. “How am I going to find enough moneyfor all the things that require it?” Every single time I pulled out a fewhundred dollars from my pocket to be given for medicine, groceries, householdnecessities, bills, rent… I fear that I’d not have enough the next time I needto pull some out again.

It’s not like I had no income at all. It’s not like we had no place tostay or food to eat. It’s the sheer speed in which the money comes in everybeginning of the month gets wiped away so quickly that scares me. What if oneday, 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. Abig part of being an adult would mean tackling and managing these issues. Andfor a big part of this year, you could say that my singular focus was on tryingto manage all the money coming in and going out of my pocket. I suddenly becomevery aware of the fact that there is fierce competition in the world on whatyou should do with your money.

Telco’s tell you that you absolutely need an iphone, blackberry of somesort of ‘smart’ phone with a data plan because not having one is so lastdecade. 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 theirmoney, investors tell you to invest in everything from gold bars, land, blue chipstocks, Islamic funds, bonds, insurance plans and even burial plots (no kidding),credit card companies call you and splash money in your face with deceptivelylow interest rates per annum, older folks tell you to invest in propertyquickly before everything becomes unaffordable, friends ask you out for Friday nightdrinks 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 hasbecome affordable, cancer society and various NGO’s approach you asking you fordonations for well deserved causes,direct marketers push you to buy their super duper washing liquid that cleansboth your hair, face, body, car and toilet bowl with a minty fresh scent, randomstrangers walk up to you asking you to buy lottery tickets, homeless beggarswith 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 easytrying 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. Wedon’t carry physical spears and knives anymore. Things have change. But it’s no less easy living inthis digital jungle today. I might not be a dad just yet. But I suddenly understand how it’s likefor them.

Renewing Bonds

2011-10-19T23:08:00.002+08:00

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...

2011-10-12T02:04:00.001+08:00

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 +/- ?!

2011-10-11T16:49:00.000+08:00

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?

2011-10-11T00:22:00.000+08:00

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

2011-10-06T22:35:00.000+08:00

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

2011-10-01T15:13:00.003+08:00

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

2011-09-29T02:27:00.002+08:00

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

2011-09-23T19:49:00.001+08:00

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....

Paint My Love

2011-09-20T10:15:00.004+08:00

It's the picture of a thousand sunsets,
It's the freedom of a thousand doves,
Baby, you should paint my love...

Paint My Love - Michael Learns To Rock

:-)

Cheekiness

2011-09-19T10:54:00.001+08:00

There is a certain trait about me that most people have never seen (orknown); I’m cheeky. Despite my serious demeanour and way of thinking, I can infact be rather cheeky at times. I don’t know how to describe how I go aboutthis cheekiness.. but only that I become naughty, daring and playful at thesame time.

The reason most people have never seen this about me is because I onlydo it with people I’m intimately familiar and comfortable with. And as far as Iam aware, I’ve only been consciously cheeky around two people; my wife and mymother.

My mother has known this about me even before I realized it myself. Iwas playing a little prank on her one weekend, and upon finding out she said“……. You’re so cheeky la.. just like when you were still small. Always playingtricks on your mother…”. I was dumbstruck. I had not realized that this was arepeat of my childhood behaviour. In my mind, it was a fresh and novel prank Iwas pulling on my mother. I guess mothers do know best after all.

The wifey of course discovered it only after it was too late. I thinkit wasn’t until a year or two into our relationship that I started exhibitingsigns of cheekiness. I didn’t plan it. It just sort of turn out that way.

I cannot recall if I have been this way with any other person.

But I think that I probably do it with people I feel very intimate with. So if I start winking at you, beware.

Simple Things

2011-09-19T10:52:00.002+08:00

Simple things make me happy; like watching the look on my other half whenI make her laugh; like seeing a beautiful sunrise and being glad that I forcemyself out of bed; like feeling the intimacy of a warm hug.

My other half tells me that I seldom laugh. Instead, I smile a lot. Shesays there’s this look on my face when I smile. While some seem the kind thatburst out in happy laugher, I was the kind that gave a mild and controlled grinthat only hinted at the joy that was truly held within.

It still shocks me how well she can read me sometimes.

The Value of Art

2011-09-15T13:06:00.000+08:00

I’ve always been one to enjoy instrumental music. I remember growing uplistening over and over again to my father’s cassette of the guitar band TheShadows. I’d close my eyes and follow the tune in my head, picturing the littlemusical notes riding up and down the scale.

And despite not having any words at all to convey what it’s trying tosay, instrumental music had a way of conveying its own meaning to the listener.They get you excited, sad, happy, light, sombre, tense and even playful justsimple by the progression and pattern of notes. And that kind of resonated inme. That magically, emotions can be conveyed and feeling can be shared with notso much as a word. There is something so simple, so beautiful, and somysterious about to me.

I have been described as a person of many words. But what people don’tunderstand about me is this – words fail me sometimes. There are times when thewords that form in my head to convey the feeling that is within is inadequate.There is no word to describe the intensity that I feel sometimes, or theconflict and harmony that exist together at the same time.

And that’s where the music comes in. It expresses what the wordscannot. Like right now, when my heart is filled with many different feelingsand thoughts; forlorn over certain things, thankfulness over others, a bit ofregret, a bit of joy, a bucket load of remorse, a dash of hope. Hard as I tryto put it in words, there is no describing it.

I began to understand how not just music, but also song, dance and anysort of art help people complete the expression that’s in their heart. Why somepeople naturally burst out in song or dance, play the guitar, paint, draw, sosimply just hum. There are verses, there are choruses, there are variations andthere are bridges. There is form and pattern in art, yet it’s not robotic orclinical. It’s fluid, natural and organic. Like our bodies, our souls, ourlives.

There is nothing ground breaking is what I am saying here. Most peoplewho haven’t stuck their heads in books, numbers, figures and charts (or aren’tengineers) like me would have figured that out long ago. Art, like music, song ordance is the projection of the heart that resides in us. To deny it is to denyour hearts, and to deny our hearts is to deny our lives.

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art, like the universeitself (for God did not need to create). It has no survival value; rather it isone of those things which give value to survival. ~ CS Lewis

Personal Growth

2011-09-13T14:22:00.000+08:00

Here's what I've observed about personal growth:

Growth usual is preceeded by some sort of contraction in personal happiness followed by a brief but rapid period of learning.....

In other words, we usually screw up before we ever learn anything.

Grasping With Evil

2011-09-10T01:51:00.000+08:00

I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do— this I keep on doing. Romans 7:18-19

Many nights.... nights like this, I find myself haunted by these verses. Nights like this when all the sinful nature within me surfaces to the ground. I do the things I don't want to do. And I don't do the things I want to do. And I find myself helpless, powerless, defenseless, against my own thoughts, against my own will. It's as if I am a mere spectator in my own body. It moves of its own accord. It does as it pleases. It goes where it wants. And while somewhere at the back of my mind, a voice screams out for me to stop, the body continues on its journey, easily ignoring the desperate but faint sounds of conscience.

Many days I'm completely ridden in guilt. I find myself utterly disgusted with myself. I am unable to like myself for who I am, and the things I've done. I find myself obsessed about bringing my secrets to the grave, lest the people around me find out, and I die of shame anyway. The world classifies people into two categories. The pure and righteous, and the tainted and dirty. One is love and respected by all, the other is spat on in disgust. But there is a third kind. It is the kind that is pure and righteous in the eyes of others, but are tainted and dirty underneath. And among the three, this is the worst. The tainted and dirty make no pretenses about who they are. You could almost admire them on how frank they are about it. The third kind is covered in cloaks of pure white, but underneath it mask a soul that is rotten and foul. William Shakespeare wrote that 'lilies that fester stink worse than weeds'. I am such a kind. I am such a festering lily.

I try. I remind myself that the grace of God is not for the righteous, but for the sinful. Salvation is not for the upright, but the fallen. I prayed to God, asking for the strength to turn away. I knew I could never have the strength to defeat my own self. I prayed to God, asking for the will to turn away. It's so hard to stop doing the things you don't want to, when in truth, you really want to. It was the most difficult of all. It still is.

With all of this, I try telling myself to drop the act of being such a nice guy. At least being outright bad and messed up was better than being a hypocrite. The nicer people's impression of me, the more people liked me, the stronger these feelings would come. I would feel like a fallen man, trying to pretend he's something better than what he really is. Like a person living a realy good lie.

How does you cure the sickness that grow from within? How do you rid a man of a shadow that tails him wherever he goes? How does a man conquer the darkness that lurks from within? Like an object that is laid before my eyes, but just out of my reach, the answer is out of my grasp.

New Blogger Layout

2011-09-02T14:48:00.004+08:00

So after what feels like an eternity, blogger finally revised their layout.As in, COMPLETELY. I find myself fumbling over the new layout, trying to find where the new buttons are and how to navigate. First reaction - FINALLY! The old one was functional, but stale. I'm still trying to get use to it.

But if nothing but just for the sake of change, I'm happy with it. Which is funny, because I've been resisting moving to Tumblr or Wordpress or any other blogging platform because I didn't want the change. And suddenly, with a click of a button, change had come upon me regardless (albeit in a small way)

I think change is a funny thing. We want it but resist it at the same time. We long for it but also fear it.

I've met people who seem to embrace change so willingly. In fact, they even seem to live on it. They can't bear the thought of staying too long on one single thing. As if familiarity is something to be feared. People like that have always made me feel old. Because it's usually the old people who cannot embrace change. New music, new trends, new fashion, new technologies. I've always found myself digging prefering to dig into the past rather than anticipating the future. I like discovering old songs that sound good, I enjoy reading history, I enjoy seeing this that have a retro feel about them. I enjoy recollecting and remembering how things unfold.

People always say living life is about moving forward. I think I do move forward, except I walk in reverse.

What can I say? I feel old.

Meet Mr. Koala

2011-09-02T14:18:00.000+08:00

	Oscar F Hills - You Do Something To Me .mp3

	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Oh brother... I'm feeling so lazy. So lazy I'll just post this song to describe how it feels rather than type it all out. Hear the melody? It's the melody of someone chilling by the barn, wearing a straw hat, playing his guitar the entire day... well.. that least that's how I picture it. And out of pure randomness and boredom, I'd like to introduce to you, this guy:

Meet Mr. Koala Bear. As most people know, despite the name, Koala's aren't really bears at all. They are marsupials. And they have life all figured out. Here's why:

Pockets
Despite the name, Koala's aren't really bears. They are marsupials. Marsupials are mammals, with pockets. I told my friends that this was a the surest sign from God that pockets were meant to be eventually invented. I once thought cargo pants (with so many pockets!) were the greatest invention of the modern times. The funny thing about Koala's is that their pockets are upside down instead of right side up.

Fussy Vegetarians
Koala's only eat certain types of Eucalyptus leaves. Nothing else. That means they are the Aussie version of the Panda, who only eat Bamboo leaves. And since they eat so much of the leaves, the even smell like Eucalyptus. Eucalyptus happens also to be a natural insect repellent. Which explains why they never worry about mosquito's or bugs while hanging out in the trees all day.

Go Green - Sleep all Day
Koala's sleep up to 18 hours a day. And they actually have a pretty good excuse for it. See, the leaves they eat are almost 70% water. That means they have very little nutrients or energy in their diet. So,to conserve energy, they sleep all day. In fact, they can't

Hard Ass
Koala's have a hard ass. No really, they do. Normally, sleeping all day in one position causes pressure sores. But in the case of the Koala, they've developed special hard asses that enable them to sleep on a tree trunk (as above) all day without feeling the least bit uncomfortable.

So there you go. Some fast facts about Koalas. They have wrongly sewnpockets, are super fussy about their food, sleep all day and the toughest part of their body is their ass, made for sleeping. Anywhere else in the world, this would have meant the extinction of them. But down under in Australia, it's a national icon.

Have a good weekend everyone. :-)

Neverland

2011-08-29T17:27:00.001+08:00

“I never get why parents control their children so much. They always think they need to protect their children so much. Do they really think we are so innocent?”

Someone said that to me recently.

Underneath that is basically a statement that after a certain age we, as children, no longer need (or want) our parents to constantly try and protect us from the corrupt ways of the world. It’s just a rewording of what we used to say when we were kids - that we are not a little boy/girl anymore. We can take care of ourselves.

Why did our parents try so hard to protect our innocence, especially when we were in our teens? Even they know that loosing that innocence is an inevitable part of growing into adulthood. It’s not like they don’t know any better themselves. They too were teenagers once upon a time. They too fought with their parents over the right to wear miniskirts, or get a tattoo, or stay out late at night. How come they behave (mostly) just like how their parents used to behave? Was the learning curve between the generations zero?

Somehow, I don’t think so. I don’t think they failed to learn from their past, hence becoming overprotective just like their parents. I think they DID learn something from their past, hence becoming overprotective just like their parents. I think parents try to protect their child’s innocence as much as they try to protect the child itself. And I think that it’s because when we eventually do grow into adulthood, we learn something else, something new, something we don’t know how to appreciate until its lost – and that is the beauty of innocence.

Most people enjoy reminiscing about old times, about all the silly, funny, crazy, whacked up thing we used to do as children and even teenagers. We laugh about how we used to be so naïve and silly, how we didn’t know any better, how life was simple, how the world was simple, how WE were simple. I remember when I was a kid and my parents brought us to a dinosaur exhibition. The monsters looked so real, I only dared watch from behind my father’s leg the entire hour we were inside the expo. Nevermind that I knew it wasn’t real. It still scared me. I remember when I was 6, how there were 2 boys in my class who got in trouble for entering the girls toilet during recess. They said they were trying to catch the ghost that was haunting the girl’s toilet. They even had self made hand drawn seals and plastic rulers as swords. The girls cried because they thought it was true. The teachers laugh because they knew. And the boys… well…. we want to go into the girls toilet too...

We laugh with a joyful heart, about how innocent we were once upon a time. Because we somehow recognize how beautiful it was. And we also realize how it’s only appreciated in hindsight. It seems that’s the most common way good things are appreciated. When it’s already gone.

How unique the story of Peter Pan and the lost boys is. They kept their innocence for as long as they stayed in Neverland. They never had to grow up. They were allowed to keep their innocence. Even the late Michael Jackson named his estate Neverland and tried to make it as child-like as possible, even as he was far from child like. I guess in our own different ways, we all want to be part of Neverland.

Where Home Is

2011-08-24T18:47:00.003+08:00

I just came back from visiting a friend overseas recently. We were in Brisbane, Australia for about a week. The trip was mainly part of an annual holiday trip we do among four of us, whom we consider our closest friends. But it was also chance to visit another country, to observe another culture, another way of life.

So many people we know have chosen to migrate overseas. Some to Europe, others to the US, but most of them look towards Australia. It’s not too far away from Malaysia, it has a sizable Asian community, the country is fully developed, and seemingly immigrants aren’t so discriminated against. Perhaps I was missing out on something? Perhaps there was something that I didn’t know about? Perhaps I was ignorant towards the better things on offer in other countries. I wanted to see it for myself.

Most people I’ve spoken to who’ve chosen to migrate say that it’s the quality of life they’re after. They say the pace of life in a developing Asian society is unhealthy and taxing. Unhealthy foods, long work hours, consumer driven, money driven. They say it’s not the way life is supposed to be lived. They tell me Western society is more about living a balanced life. You sip coffee, you go to the beach, you read a book, you go on summer holidays, you eat salads, you take public transport you attend live musicals and you bring your own bag shopping for groceries. There’s this whole romantic idea that living in a developed country will always better than living in a just-growing-up land such as Malaysia. And in many ways, it’s true. There indeed are many things about living in a first world country that can never be matched by us for many more decades.

But what about here? What about home? Isn’t there anything at all at home that would also prompt you to want to stay? Someone made a remark to me that all those people migrating over there, probably had something they were running away from over here. As oppose to the common thinking that migrating was more about running towards something that was over there. And in many ways I think this is true too. I’ve heard complaints from people living overseas that the cost of living is also rising, their economy is in recession, jobs aren’t that easy to find, and their dollar doesn’t quite go the mile it used to. Isn’t that what we complain about here too? Life ‘over there’ isn’t necessarily as rosy as it sounds.

Sitting over lunch with a colleague that spent 5 years in Sydney, I asked him why he came back while so many others were trying to get out. And he asked back “Don’t you think life in Malaysia is so much better?” I wouldn’t know. I haven’t spend enough time overseas to agree or disagree. A lot of people say they want their kids to have a better life overseas. But I look at them and say “Look at you. Didn’t YOU grow up here. You turned out fine. What makes you think you children will not?”

But to me, it isn’t so much a debate about which place is better than the other. Everyone, even myself, would go to a better place if it were that simple.

To me, the real question was – where is home to you?

I can never understand how someone can spend their whole lives living in one country and still feel like home is supposed to be somewhere else. No doubt things might be nicer or better elsewhere, but to me it isn’t home. If someone else’s mother or wife is so much pleasant than yours, do you then want theirs instead of the one you have? This country is yours. This home is yours. You are part of that home. It is your birthright. Is it something to give up just like that?

I ask myself if I could ever foresee myself leaving. And the honest answer, even for me is yes. Yes, I could leave this country. I wouldn’t want to. And I wouldn’t want to want to. But I could. If ever I’m no longer welcomed in my own home that is; if ever life here becomes unbearable to me or my family. Yet, even then, home will still be here. Everywhere else would always be something….. adopted.

Strolling by the long sandy beaches of the Gold Coast with my friend at night, we talked about these things. Why she decided to come. Why she didn’t want to stay. Why she wouldn’t go home. How much she enjoyed the beach, the relaxed life, the culture.

“You could come here easily you know. They’d take the two of you in a heartbeat.” she said.

“I know. I could…. But I won’t. For as long as I can help it, I want to stay in Malaysia. If there is still a chance to make a good living back in Malaysia, I will want to take that chance. I love life back home.” I replied.

“You see, that’s something I can’t say. I can’t say I love life back home. THAT’s why I’m here.”

I guess that’s the difference.

Where we love is home, Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., Homesick in Heaven

How To Love

2011-08-04T20:44:00.004+08:00

Love can be so complicated something doesn’t it?

It lifts you up like nothing else in this world. It makes your heart soar with the eagles. It makes you climb mountains. It makes you more than you ever thought you could be. And yet love seems to also be the very thing that makes us feel so vulnerable, so weak, so exposed, to silly.

We all start with such a simplistic and naïve belief system, that if I love you, and you love me, we’ll go through it all. We’ll fight the nay sayers, we’ll prove everybody wrong, we’ll show that we're different. We'll show them that love does conquer all...

And then we fail.

Relationships start to crumble, big rifts appear, feelings fade, fatigue comes in and your heart just doesn’t feel so invincible as it used to be. Love, the glue that was supposed to be holding everything together seems to melt apart. Things aren’t as simple as you first thought them to be. Perhaps, just feeling love for each other isn’t enough. Perhaps you aren’t right for one another. Perhaps the timing isn’t right. Perhaps I’m not ready. Perhaps he/she isn’t ready. Perhaps he/she isn’t good enough. Perhaps I am not good enough.

When doubts creep in, faith in love fades away. What I want, what I need becomes more important than what we want, what we need. Inevitably, one or both sides choose to call it quits. Our own happiness and welfare becomes more important than the relationship, which is seen as a hindrance. In essence, this is almost always why relationships seem to fail.

What do you do when the love you feel doesn’t translate into the relationship you want?

My brother, my sister,

If you love one another, you must be prepared to do what it takes to make it work. And that means you must love the other more than you love yourself, you must be prepared to make sacrifices, you must forgive plenty and expect little, you must give selflessly and submit humbly to one another.

You might say you already know these things. They sound so cliché, so generic, so simple. But you can even do these simple things? Have you kept these simple things in mind at that moment before you lose your anger or utter a hurtful remark?

The primary skill you learn in a relationship isn’t about learning how to accommodate one another in each other’s lives. It’s not about learning how to juggle your work, social life, personal time and relationship. Those things are important. You will learn those things along the way as the relationship progresses. But painful and difficult as they seem, they are only incidental. The true skill you learn is how to relate to one another. As mutual love and respect as your foundation, you must realize that tuning into each other’s heart and feelings are your first and most important steps towards becoming one mind, body and flesh.

When fighting, resist taking the higher ground. Resist trying to win or be proven right if it means hurting the one you love. Please learn that many problems and disagreements between you will take years and months to work themselves out. Learn to disagree without compromising your love and tenderness for one another. Problems are not a reason to stop showing kindness and care.

What if you feel like you’ve done all these things and it’s still not working? What if you feel like you’re putting all the hard work and the other is taking it all for granted? What if you feel like the relationship is lopsided and you aren’t treated fairly? What do you do then?

If you love one another, continue doing it. The pattern of love is similar to the pattern of madness. It makes no sense to put another person’s welfare above your own. But that’s precisely what love is. It goes against the grain of what we are naturally good at – taking care of ourselves.

The art of loving someone is something you learn through tears and heartache. There is no shortcut. There is no way around it. You will find yourself having to ask for forgiveness many times, and you will find yourself having to forgive many times. You will find yourself having to make sacrifice over sacrifice. It’s painful and it’s hard. But it is a labour of love. Both of you must uphold your duty to love the other. Don’t wait for each other. Start with yourself. You are both one half of the pillar that holds up your relationship. Please let this sink in.

Do not doubt if it will ever be worth the sacrifice. Do not ask if you will get back as much as you have given. There is no place for an emotional balance sheet when it comes to love. The fruits of love will grow in both the hearts that give and receive it.

I asked “What do you do when the love you feel doesn’t translate into the relationship you want….”

I couldn’t find an answer. But God did.

God found Himself the impossible task of loving a race of people who were sinful, unrepentant and totally estranged from him. But out love love, He wanted to save and repair his relationship with this race of human beings. His love led to Him taking action that was costly to Himself. He sent his son. That was when Christ was born. It was costly. He didn’t care. It was underserved. He didn’t care. It was unasked for. He didn’t care.

If this is how we have been loved, then this is how we must love one another. That’s what you do.

Of Late

2011-08-02T20:54:00.002+08:00

I feel a lot less compelled to write in recent months.

I used to make it a point to blog consistently. I used to participate actively in Facebook. But I haven’t done either of these things of late. I used to let my thoughts flow freely from my mind, through my heart, off my fingertips and into cyberspace. It felt good to have a piece of my thought sitting out there for someone like minded out there to read. One of the main reasons I love blogging so much was because it felt like there was always someone there to listen to my most personal and intimate thoughts. It made me feel vulnerable, but connected at the same time.

But I stopped. Or rather, I’ve slowed down. Most of the nights and hours I used to spend pouring my heart out here have been spent around reality… as opposed to this virtual reality.

One of my greatest happiness in life has always been in establishing personal bond s and friendships with the people around me. It’s the thing in life I find to be most rewarding. And when I look at this blog and the way I’ve been attached to it, I realize that I’ve been spending all my time talking to ‘invisible’ people who neither knew me, nor necessarily care about what’s going on in life. A comment or two felt nice, but it does not give me a sense of connection that I needed most. More than that, writing so much with so little comment or response from anyone began to make me feel more and more like I was actually talking to myself. The image in my mind was that of a person standing in front of a mirror, pouring his heart out to his own reflection. And that person was me.

Deep in my heart, the biggest thing I wanted to be in this life… was a difference. I wanted to make a difference, not to the world, not to society, not to my company… just to the people I cared about. Just to the people that come in contact with, just the people I happily label as my dear friends. And not en masse, just one person at a time, one heart at a time.

Over the years, far and in between, I’ve had people come across the thing I wrote that leave me comments or send me messages, thanking me for the words that seem to come straight for their own hearts. And when I get these, I feel a sense of joy and usefulness… that I’ve helped someone somewhere in some little way. But that’s all it has ever been, and perhaps that’s all its ever going to be. Not because of who I am, or who they are, but simply because this is as far as it goes on a platform like this.

Last Friday night, my own heart melted as I heard with my own ears words of appreciation and thanks from a friend to me for being a source of support and strength. I realized that the little time I’ve spent with the people around me, in the flesh, has had a far more significant impact that all the hours I’ve spend sharing my most intimate thoughts here. The things I have gained from this blog is perhaps a virtual place to rant, a small handful of acquaintances and a bigger handful of completely anonymous people dropping in and out. And in all honestly, that isn’t enough for me. I yearn for intimacy and connection that this blog, nor Facebook, nor any other kind of social networking media has been able to give me. Instead, I find it in the short coffee sessions, night out at the movies, the dinners… the places where the persons smile is in skin and flesh, warts and all….not an standardized smiley icon shields away a persons true heart.

A Birthday That Was

2011-08-01T19:47:00.000+08:00

I celebrated my birthday last week. Yes, I'm a Leo baby.

Without wanting to overstate things, I have to say.. it was one of the nicest birthdays I've ever had.

Nevermind that I still had to work, nevermind that I had to rush 350kms from Singapore to KL for a 'suprise' birthyday party that I secretly already saw coming. Nevermind that the place was so fancy, and the food so expensive my eyes nearly popped out looking at the bill.

I've never been one to make a big deal about my birthday. I have certain in-built shyness about talking about it that I seem to have inherited from my mother. Most years, the only one to ever kick a fuss about it was my other half good enough... or so I tell myself. No matter how selfless and giving we are in our lives, even the best of us crave for acknowledgement and appreciation... and honestly, I'm no different.

When the blindfolds were taken off my eyes, and all those who had gathered yelled 'Surprise!'...
When they played that video clip with messeages from each on of them to me... When they whipped out the guitar and started singing....When they just sat around, chatting and drinking with a smile on their face... I felt...... loved... and celebrated... which felt really really great.. but also kinda weird. I've never actually experienced being 'celebrated' before. I can't shake off the notion that celebrating someone usually happens more after their dead.

But with all my heart, I felt really happy and touched that they'd all gather like that. It's so rare these days to have a group of the people you love most together with you in one room at one moment. We talked and we laughed, we drank and we sang....or at least some of them did.... and I openly told everyone that sometimes, when you cared so much for people, you do end up wandering if they feel the same towards you..... and the fact that they all showed up like this in this manner was answer that they do. We spent the rest of the night explaining the rather complicated way we all ended up being friends with one another... from a friend, to a friend's friend, to a friend's friend's friend... that sort of thing...

That night, as we drove home, I reached out and held my other half's hand.. She was the one who organized everything...

"Yes dear... what is it?" she asked.

"Nothing....." I answered with a smile and squeezed her hands tighter.

"Tell me dear...." she prodded further.

"Well... only you would do such a thing dear. Only you would bother kicking up such a fuss for me. You know me...if it was just me, I'd just lay low and make sure no one knew..." I said.

"That's why you have ME! So that there IS someone who will fuss over you." she replied.

I just looked at her and smiled even more. That made me glad. She understood me so well.

I thought more about the friends that came. There were a few that were glaringly missing in the line up... but I didn't mind at all... it'd be too much to want EVERYONE there... But something one of them said that stuck with me..

"You friends treat you very well....." one friend said to me. She was a close friend too.. but not quite in the same group as the rest. The fact that she came anyway meant a lot to me. She was also the one who had the nicest things to say about me in the video presentation.

"I guess I'm lucky... But yeah, they really are a great people.... and so are you." I said to her.

"I hope you had a good time dear..." my other half said to me as we reached the house.

"I did dear... I did..... The best birthday I've ever had." I told her.

And though it may not seem so great from the way I've just wrote it... but to me, it really was.

Life In a Cup

2011-07-18T14:17:00.001+08:00

Happiness is knowing that all good things will come to an end, and being OK with that..

Happiness is knowing that bad things happen, even to good people, and knowing how to accept it.

Happiness is knowing that suffering and sadness not as a hindrance to happiness, but rather a natural reciprocate of it, that makes life what it is. Where happiness is the sweet part, sadness and suffering is the bitter part.

Like a shot of freshly brewed espresso, life's richest aromas are often bittersweet. If you take away the bitter part, wanting only the sweet... it wouldn't be much of a coffee.... or life...... would it?

Think about that next time you're drinking a cuppa..

Bersihnya!

2011-07-10T01:36:00.002+08:00

The right to freedom is guaranteed to all who live within the bounds of society. But that right ends where another persons rights begins. When we demands greater freedom, more rights to expression and protest, is our society (not the individual) now mature enough to handle that freedom without destroying ourselves? Mature nations often observe nationwide moments of silence whenever a tragedy occurs i.e. Madrid train bombings or 9/11.... For a few minutes, every single person in the country lays down the thing they are doing, bows their head in silence in respect and honour of the deceased. If you ask me, the day this nation is mature enough to do that, would be the day thousands of people can rally on the streets without the police needing to worry.

The ability to recognize goodness and fairness is in each and every one of us. We know when something is broken, we know when something is wrong. We are good at finding faults in others, but often blind towards our own. Have we learned how to give credit where it’s due? Do we remember how to seek out the good after instinctively find all the bad? The Electoral system in Malaysia isn’t perfect. There is room for improvement. Yet this same ‘flawed’ election system won 5 states for the opposition in the last election. A call for transparent and clean electoral voting is universal to all democracies. Any government serious about retaining credibility will ensure elections are conducted with integrity.

You print your eight demands on yellow T-shirts and press like on every Facebook post with a yellow profile picture. But for the past four years, you forget to write or meet your local state assemblyman or MP, pressuring them to submit a petition or Bill to Parliament on electoral reforms. You fail to exercise every means and avenue available to you in this Parliamentary democracy to make your voice heard through your elected representative. Then you decide you have the right to go take to the streets, disrupt law and order and make it seem like it was entirely their fault.

Many of you are happy about what happened today in KL. You nod in approval. You make martyrs out of the five thousand who showed up that day. You glorify the leaders that got arrested in the struggle. You antagonize the police and armed forces, the very people you expect to protect you. Then you mock the ministers at every chance and condemn the ruling government at ever chance. You walk side by side along political opposition party members, who chant their party names, you march with an Opposition leader clearly with an agenda of his own, then you say you this has nothing to do with politics. Is that true?

A few centuries back, selling and acquiring slaves was the norm in this world. To Imperial colonist like the British Empire, slave trade was crucial to their economy; hard working, manageable labour and completely free. Slaves were considered lesser people with lesser rights.

But all of that changed when a young man, barely out from college and the life of parties and drinks, decided to make a change… to commit his life to a cause – abolishing the slave trade and freeing all people forced into slavery. Elected into Parliament at the age of 21, he was one of the earliest elected MP to champion the emancipation of slaves in the British Parliament. His cause was far from popular. The country was highly dependent on the slave trade, and the use of slaves to keep its economy running. To free all the slaves in the world would be tantamount to shooting themselves in the foot. But he relented, along with many others. This man would go on to spend the next 50 years of his life submitting petitions, lobbying for support, calling for reforms. Over fifty years of struggles and rejection. But three days before he died, the Slave Abolition Act of 1833 was passed. Slavery was outlawed throughout all the British Empire in the world. That man’s name was William Wilberforce.

True and lasting change comes from relentless, sincere, sustained, level headed, holistic action. Sometimes, these causes take a lifetime to fight, as in the case of the Slave trade and William Wilberforce. As a society, are we wise enough to differentiate between what is a genuine struggle for society and what is instead a personal agenda disguised as something else? Was there anyone wearing a yellow shirt that was a William Wilberforce, willing to champion Electoral reforms to its very end? Among the yellow shirts, my feelings tell me it was the normal citizens who were more like Mr. Wilberforce than the its leaders.

The Bersih leaders proudly declared that the rally was a success despite not being able to submit their referendum to the king. Strange, considering none of their eight points have been achieved. Has the battle been won already? If Electoral reforms were truly sought, the referendum should have headed to Parliament, not Istana Negara. Makes you wonder doesn't it?

Congratulations Bersih. You have gotten the publicity you wanted. You think you have managed to demonstrate how authoritarian this ‘evil’ government is to the world. How the people have finally found their voice. But really, all you’ve done is shown then world how little the people have progressed as a nation. How like spoilt teens rebelling against their parents with great angst, but poor judgement, we have allowed our emotions to get the better of us.

If we want a better government, maybe it’s a good idea to start by being a better Rakyat.

Of Men & Love

2011-07-06T19:42:00.001+08:00

I hope you find him some day. The man that will recognize you for who and what you are. The man that will look into your eyes and see what I see; a gentle and beautiful soul. One that loves, one that cares, one that is loyal to the very end.

I wish I could explain to you why other lesser women have managed to find undeservedly better men, while you watch as chance after chance pass you by and age catches up. Most days I'm inclined to whack one of my fellow man in the face with a metal pan. They chase young and pretty looking things that wither with time. Are they really so blind to not see the timeless beauties that are right before them?

But do not mourn the loss of men who never saw your true worth in the first place, dear friend. Though your heart aches for the miss opportunities, the wonderful what-if's, know that in truth, it is they who have lost, though they know it not. In your heart, you feel that a good thing has passed you by. You blame yourself for not seizing what was right within your grasp. But what you desired to grasp might well have been nothing more than illusions of perfection. The perfect man for you would have been the one that was good enough to make you actually reach out to him, but better still, good enough that you didn't need to.

Forget them. Forget him. I thought of telling you there are plenty of other men out there. But that would somehow imply that you NEED a man before you can be happy.

I think that you should just focus on being all that you can be in this life, keep your heart of gold, continue to hope, trust and love...... and somewhere, somehow along the way on this rocky road called life..... love will find you. Maybe not in the form of a man, but surely in the form of something that will remind you that life is beautiful, and worth living, and that love, in whatever form that is, always comes to those who have it in their own hearts.

My thoughts to you...

Against The Wind

2011-06-23T18:10:00.002+08:00

I feel it somewhere deep down inside. I’m no longer the person I used to be. I’m also not the person I thought I’d turn out to be. And I no longer dare to imagine just what kind of person I will be in the future.

Have you ever tried defining yourself? Have you ever thought how highly (or lowly) your sense of self is?

I’m not so sure about things anymore. Sometimes it feels as if my confidence has been slowly but surely eroding. Slow enough for me not to realize it when it happens, but surely enough that eventually I do.

Last week was Father’s Day. I sat across my dad as we gathered for dinner, all 10 of us from both sides of the family. It was the restaurant that my father first introduced to us when we were teenagers. My brother and I were going on and on about the fond memories we had eating Indian food for the first time. He was mostly silent throughout the night. I glanced at him. I caught him looking around the table, looking at everyone, thinking something. I asked what it was. He just smiled and said nothing.

But I knew that look. It was the kind of look he had when he started feeling rather philosophical about life. I knew it well because I am like that too.

Perhaps he was trying to define himself too. Perhaps he too felt that he was no longer the person he thought he was, nor the person he thought he would be. And in that moment, I saw more of my father in myself that I ever did before. We are the product of our parents in more ways that we are willing to acknowledge.

The more I live this life, the more it feels like being placed on a current in the ocean. You can paddle and navigate through the seas, but you are still bound to the winds in the sky and currents in the sea. You learn to maneuver through it to get you where you want to go, but you also learn to accept and surrender to where it will actually bring you. And that includes the things you achieve in life, as well as the person you end up becoming.

I looked across the table at my mother. My gaze softens. I’ve always felt a special bond with her. How has her life turned out? Certainly not the way she hoped it too either. Could she ever see herself losing her husband within ten hears of marriage, living ill and alone for another fifteen before finally finding peace again? Some days when I bring her to church, she feels embarrassed to meet the friends from her youth. While many have gone on to become successful people with happy homes, here she is living the remnants of a broken marriage and mental illness. Knowing this, I think I overcompensate by being unusually protective of her when out in public, and I try hard to be a son she can be proud of.

Then I look at my own life, my wife, my marriage, my family. And I wonder… in fear… just how things will turn out. I no longer trust myself enough to be able to make things OK just by sheer will power, by sheer belief. I realize that this is not how the life works out.

The one thing that has greatly developed in me over the past year or two, is that of HOPE.

I have come to learn the delicate but unyieldinge nature of hope. Time magazine was featuring an in depth article about the science of hope. It talks about how people are often optimistic about their future. They often imagine themselves being more successful that they eventually do turn out. And the only people who predict the future to a more reasonable level of accuracy... are those who are mildly depressed. And yet, people do continue to believe they will not end up like others no matter what the statistics say. Case in point would be marriage. With divorce rates escalating everywhere..the percentage of people taking the vows believing that they will divorce is ZERO. I think it has to do with the indomitable spirit of human beings. We refuse to submit to hopelessness even in the most dire of situations. We need hope, like how we need air and water. We need hope, like how we need love and faith.

This is the place I have found myself in recent times. That air of confidence; that belief that with my talents, with my skills, with who I am, with all that I have, I will carve something for myself in this life – that has died away. In its place is a spring of hope; one that comforts me in my weakest moment, one that keeps me humble in my strongest ones, one that fuels me on as I find myself running against the wind, searching and searching again for myself.

I guess that's what I am at this moment in time... searching and searching again for myself.....against the wind... with a lot less self confidence, but with a lot more hope.

Cheers to you friend.

I began to find myself searchin'
Searching for shelter again and again
Against the wind
A little something against the wind
I found myself seeking shelter against the wind
Bob Seger - Against the Wind

Giving Up / Moving On

2011-06-17T17:58:00.001+08:00

Sometimes I just get so disillusioned…. by everything. Love, friendship, career, family.. bonds between people, kindness, sincerity, connection.. are any of it real? Does any of it last? Is it worth pursuing? Is it worth fighting for? Is it worth the sacrifice?

I feel so tired. Fed up. Burnt out.

The kind of feeling you get when you put so much effort into something.. only to find that it all amounted to nothing.. and you have to start over again.

Only… I don’t have the energy to start again. And even if I did, I don’t want to anymore. Because the first time started with a fresh, strong, unwounded heart. This time, it’s bleeding. And bleeding hearts don’t make strong hearts.

I give up.

Maybe it’s admitting defeat. It will take a while for me to lick my wounds and heal.

But though it looks like I’m retreating… really.. all I’m trying to do.. is move forward.

In 3 Lines

2011-06-13T14:04:00.004+08:00

Quick to want. Slow to give.

Empathy.

Too cold to give. Too proud to receive.

Sympathy.

Shallow ones plenty. True ones endangered.

Friendship

Blissful to keep. Embarrassing to reveal.

Ignorance.

Publicly applauded. Privately neglected.

Charity.

Inherit. Overprized.

Pride.

Of highest value. Of constant compromise.

Integrity.

Important when little. Dangerous when abundant.

Money.

Free to give. Priceless to receive.

A Smile

Long in the keeping. Short in the losing.

Patience.

Invisible. Omnipotent.

Faith.

Illogical to your brain. Perpetual to your heart.

Hope.

Often painful. Always worth it.

Love

Cruel. Beautiful.

Life

If I Die Young

2011-06-08T19:53:00.001+08:00

If I Die Young - The Band Perry Mp3
Mp3-Codes.com

If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a, bed of roses
Sink me in the river, at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song

If I die young - The Band Perry

I've been listening to this song of late. The lyrics intrigued me in a way I found hard to explain. I researched a bit further, and this is what the author herself said about what the is suppose to mean...

"........ it’s about making the most of whatever time you are given, whether it’s 2 years or 20 years." She goes on to says that even at their young ages they have all lived and loved and if it all ends at this moment, look what they’ve gotten to do. “Whatever time we’re given will be absolutely enough as long as we make the most of it"

Making the most of your life..... that strikes a very deep chord with me.

I wake up many mornings staring myself in the mirror, wondering what all this means...Whether I'm heading the right direction in life.. Whether there is such a thing as a 'right' direction at all. Whether I should perhaps be doing something else. And if I did, then where would it all lead to anyway?

I heard this spectacular speech from Steve Jobs once... and he said one thing "If you live everyday like it was your last, one day, you're going to be right." He also asked "If this was your last day to live, would you still do what you are going to today?"

Powerful question. Sadly, like many of people I know, my answer is seldom a 'yes'. Living everyday like it's your last. A concept understood by many, lived out by not many. We don't live like it's our last day because our human nature is such that we always expect there to be a tomorrow. When things are good, we want there to be a tomorrow, as good as today. When things are bad, we still want there to be a tomorrow, better than today. It's the perpetual spring of hope embedded in our souls. Despite acknowledging the gloom and scepticism of the world, we each secretly hold a very private, very personal hope about our future. Even the inevitability of death is countered with a hope of life after death.. some through Jesus Christ, some through Muhammad and some through the laws of Karma and reincarnation.

"What's the most important thing to you in your life? What do you think you need to make you happy?" This is a question I have asked more than 2 dozen people over the last six months. Some answer me instantly. Some stare at me blankly. Many answer that it's their family. Many answer it's money. Some answer it freedom. Some say it's personal achievements. A few days respect. Only one person answered God. "... to drop everything and run to Him...." was the amazing answer that left me speechless.

The natural assumption that ties these two questions is this; if this was the last day of life as you knew it, you would spend it doing the thing that matters the most to you.

What would I be doing if I knew this was the last day of my life on earth? I don't really know. It would defnitely not be what I'm doing now, running a business I have limited interest in, dealing with people I have limited affection for, and providing a service I have limited passion for.

Instead, a picture comes to mind. Of my family, my friends, of the people who mean something to me in my life, all coming together in this one moment...sitting a top a high cliff, full of green grass, overlooking a sandy beach, having a picnic of home made sandwhiches and lemonade, wind blowing against our faces and messing up our hairs...... and laughter..... lots and lots of laughter... as we watch the sunset over the horizon, with rays of light colouring the sky and clouds in a million different hues...

THAT is how I'd spend my last day on earth.

The Obedient Wives Club

2011-06-08T18:15:00.000+08:00

Obedient Wives Club to offer sex lessons

It's things like this that make Malaysia such an entertaining (albeit embarrasing) place to live sometimes.

A bunch of Muslim housewives, spearheaded by a group of former polygamy advocators are offering sex lessons to wives so that they can "serve their husbands better than a first class prostitute.".. because "a husband who was kept happy in the bedroom would have no reason to stray, seek out prostitutes or indulge in other social vices."

I know I should be outraged at the blatant sexism and all.. but honestly, I'm just amused.

Just HOW are they going to pull off these lessons?

I think it's safe to assume that tha vast majority of adults of our times have never received any sort of 'formal' lessons on how to have sex. So how are a bunch of tudung wearing housewives going to teach other housewives how to serve it up better than a first clast prostitute in bed? Will they have 'practical sessions' i.e. voyuerism? Or perhaps use some visual aids i.e. porn? Or will they just use cucumbers and doughnuts as tools?

Secondly, how will these 'trainers' even know how a first class prostitute performs in bed? What would be the qualification criteria for these trainers? How do you know if you're up to par with the best of prostitutes without having some prior knowledge or experience?

It's silly to say lack of a lack of mind blowing sex at home is the source of all social ills. But I suspect most men aren't about to complain (too much) about it anyway. It's every mans dream come true if their wife / girlfriend is a lady in public but a nympho in bed.

The way I see it, the only way this is going to work is that these women will have to be already somewhat kinky. You WILL need to have watched some (or a lot) porn, you WILL have to be fairly adventurous in bed, you WILL have to know and be willing to do everything a professional would do. EVERYTHING. And frankly, if you're that kinky, I doubt you'd be promoting sex classes under a religious banner, with tudung and all....

My guess is, this it'll all just end up like this scene.

Some Walls

2011-06-07T16:14:00.000+08:00

Some walls are made of stone

sometimes we build our own

some walls stand for years

and some wash away with tears

Some walls are lined with gold where

some hearts stay safe and cold

some walls are made from doubt

holding in and keeping out

If there's any hope for love at all...

some walls must fall

If there's any hope for love at all...
some walls must fall

Some walls are built on pride

some keep the child inside

some walls are built in fear that

love let go will disappear

If there's any hope for love at all...
some walls must fall
If there's any hope for love at all...
some walls must fall

How will you ever know what might be found

until you let the walls come tumbling down

If there's any hope for love at all...
some walls must fall

I Believe

2011-06-01T21:05:00.000+08:00

I believe your achievements in life are 50% your effort, 50% Gods plan for you. That when you fail, it can be either because you didn’t try hard enough, or it was just never meant to be. Trying to figure out which was which is the hard part.

I believe that friends come and go. Precious few stick around.. But you never know who they are, until everyone else has left. At that moment, you discover who had stayed by your side all along, and who you had unwittingly abandoned. Some friendships die because they left. Some, because you did.

I believe that as you grow older, you realize more and more just how little you know. The arrogance of youth must in time mellow into the humility of age. A smart man will admit to knowing plenty. But a wise man will admit to knowing nothing. Wisdom is having the mind of a sage and the heart of a child.

I believe that regret is sometimes a good thing. It teaches our hearts to be humble; to acknowledge that we screw up….. all the time. That there is always a part of us that requires overcoming.. be it pride, complacency, arrogance or fear. Regret is the emotional scar that reminds us we are a flawed and needy people. And the things we need most are this; forgiveness aplenty, love in abundance.

I believe that love is love is the most powerful force in the universe. It doesn’t put food on the table. It has no trading value. It doesn’t remove suffering. But love softens hearts, comforts and gives hope. Love gives meaning to suffering. Love gives meaning to life. ‘I love you’ is the most yearned after sentence in our lives. It’s high time we say it more often to the ones we love.

I believe that truth, honesty and integrity will always win in the long run, even if cheating, lying and deceiving may get you ahead faster and further initially. And even if by the end of your life, you lose out to dishonest people, God sees what you have done and hopefully so do the people in your life.

I believe that everything that happens, happens for a reason. From the people we meet, to the friends we make, the success we gain, to the failures we encounter, the words we say, to the things we learn, the journeys we make, to the places we go, the way we were brought up, to the person we are today…. Everything has a reason. Most people only find that reason in hindsight. Some never find it. But believe it or not, here are the two reasons for everything – to discover yourself, then to discover God.

What do you believe?

Sing & Dance

2011-05-26T11:58:00.000+08:00

I'm such a sucker for MTV's like this. Simple, original, light hearted and fun driven...

I think it's safe to say that singing and dancing is one of the most timeless form of human entertainment. We've been doing it for centuries... and we will still be doing it for centuries to come regardless of how technology evolves.

Something about watching fellow human beings move in sync, in rhythm to a catchy tune that never ceases to make people smile and laugh.

Or maybe it's just the monkey heads.

7 Days

2011-05-24T15:08:00.001+08:00

7 days ago, I was caught completely off guard with the news that I was about to become a father.

I confess, I was more terrified than happy.

Having a baby wasn't part of the immediate plan, and I felt far from ready for it. I couldn't rest the next few days thinking about it.

"What am I going to do? How am I going to manage? What does all this mean? A BABY.....?"

Life thus far for the past 6 months had been so challenging as it is. The year thus far had been marked by constant struggles.... having a baby on the way made that infinitely harder.

I spent the next few days thinking about little else. I accepted that whether I liked it or not, comfortable or not, this was going to happen. This was one of those classic curve ball God likes throwing at people. So I might as well embrace it and make the best of it.

It still felt so unreal to me. But we started talking about what to do; how do we announce? Who do we see? Which hospital do we go. How much does it even cost to have a baby?

But somehow... somehow... I started warming up to the reality of it all. I didn't know how to handle this, but perhaps that was OK... perhaps I could still do it anyway. I closed my eyes and tried visualizing myself holding a little baby.. and for once, one that wasn't just cute or cuddly... but one that was my own flesh and blood.

My heart did a somersault. I could feel a seed of happiness and acceptance being planted in my heart. Yes. Perhaps I can do it after all...We made plans for the announcement. We called our immediate family from both sides for a dinner on Sunday night. We would share the good news with them over dinner.. I'm sure they would have loved it. Heck, even I started to seriously warm up to the idea.... (not of changing diapers and all, but of at least having a little mini me..or mini her..around)

But the good news never lasted.

Because 2 days before we were due to announce it, she sent me a desperate message.

"Darling, I'm scared. I'm bleeding. Stomach pain... I'm really scared. Please pray that the baby will be OK."

This time, my heart felt more like it had just jumped off a cliff. I was driving home from Singapore... and it was at least 3 hours before I could arrive. We were not sure what was going on. We hadn't even had time to see a doctor yet and now this. From what little we knew, a little bit of bleeding wasn't entirely uncommon.. but it was an alarming sign nonetheless.

I had barely gotten used to the idea of welcomig a baby... and suddenly I had to deal with the prospect of loosing one. God and his curveballs.....

That night... and nights following that, tears fllowed freely... tears of confusion, of despair, of helplessness...

The pregnancy did not last.. and the baby did not survive.

She woke me up in the middle of the night.... and I asked what was wrong.. She said nothing and just stared at me with more tears dropping down her cheeks. I held her in my arms... and she started sobbing non stop. I would have cried too...the whole thing was just too much for me to absorb in such a short time...my heart was aching in a way I had never knew before.... but the tears refused to come out.

Sunday morning I went to church... and in the midst of all the songs and the sermon... I prayed desperately to God for some sort of guidance. All things happen for good, all things happen under the sight of God.. But why was this happening? What possible sense could I make of this 7 days of brought me from fear to acceptance, to hope, to happiness, then to shock, to anxiety then finally to despair?

I'm back to exactly where I was 7 days ago... yet I cannot act like I have gone nowhere and expereince no loss... the expereince of receiving something then loosing it isn't the same as never receiving it. One is a pain of grieving, and the other is the pain of longing. I felt completely isolated from the world... completely alone in my experience. There was no one I had confided in.... simply because it happened so fast...

And the world around me was simply to busy, or caught up with its own sufferings to have an ear...

A best friend was in the midst of a nasty breakup and looked to me for guidance and advise. Business was not going well and called for my attention. Work was no better with, with my boss breathing down my neck constantly requiring me to travel... A (former) friend called me a cheat, liar and two faced swindler... and for the first time in my life, decided to completely burn bridges... not because I was bitter, but because I knew I wanted nothing to do with people who had malicious hearts.

Sigh.....

I'm tired Lord. Tired of so much struggle. I ask not for an easily, carefree life... only a life with meaning and purpose. So help me find meaning and purpose in all of this.

Concerts & Such

2011-05-18T15:09:00.000+08:00

A few weeks ago, there was a massive jam in KL... and it was all because of this boy.

That's right. Justin Bieber was in town for a concert on a Thursday night... and half of the families in the Klang valley seemed to be attending at Stadium Merdeka. That's what the 'young' people are into these days. The other half seemed to be stuck trying to run AWAY from Stadium Merdeka.

I would have nothing to do with that Bieber-fever of course. But 3 days later... we did go watch these old dudes instead.

That's right. On the same week everyone was watching the very 'in' Bieber, I was more geared up watching the 'outdated' Michael Learns to Rock at KLCC.

I think only people my age (26) and above would have any relation (or memory) of MLTR. I mean.... they became famours a long long time ago.. in the 90's.... and particularly in Asia only... and particularly with ME only. It was the first audio album I had ever bought in my life.. and remains one of those 'best thing I ever did' moments in my life. I listened to that cassette for months on end...

How was the concert? Well... if the Bieber concert was like a electrifying showcase of fresh, young talent, then the MLTR was very much the long awaited and anticipated reunion of all friends. EVERYONE in the crowd know almost every song by heart... a lot of us grew up listening to their songs.. and a lot of their songs remain very much evergreen (IMHO)

It kinda made me ponder a bit. It has been 10 years since I bothered listening to a MLTR song. And yet when they started singing, it all came back to me so naturally. They say some things never leave you.. they just get stored away.

10 years ago, I remember MLTR themselves playing at Stadium Merdeka, playing to a sell out crowd, causing traffic jams. I couldn't afford to attend then, but on that day, I was able to.... like some long forgotten dream suddenly realized....It occured to me that I was no longer one of the 'in' or 'young' crowd... but I also realized.. I didn't really mind at all. :-)

Anyway, I don't really have a point to make here..I just promised myself I woud write SOMETHING.. even if it's done in a hurry (like now). I will share this particular song that used to be my official 'emo' song. It was the song I sang to myself when my first major crush went for another guy... I think I've always been secretly melodramatic that way... :-P

Help From Above

2011-05-16T20:52:00.002+08:00

I cry to you, O LORD; I say, You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living. Listen to my cry, for I am in desperate need; rescue me from those who pursue me, for they are too strong for me. Set me free from my prison, that I may praise your name. Then the righteous will gather about me because of your goodness to me. Psalms 142: 5-7

If the things I do are right, then vindicate me O God in the eyes of those who deem me evil.

If the things I do are wrong, the open my eyes O God, for me to know the error of my ways.

Teach me O God, to seek your heart.

Teach me O God, to listen when you speak.

Teach me O God, to love like you do.

Give me strength O God, to flee from temptation.

Give me courage O God, to do the things I must

Give me wisdom O God, to discern holiness

Give me humility O God, to conquer my pride

Help me O God.

I have no where else to go,

I have no one else to turn to.

Help me.

To Lend or Not To Lend

2011-05-06T12:51:00.000+08:00

To lend or not to lend? That is the question.

Sex And Money.

Perhaps our two biggest driving forces in life. Coincidentally also the two least openly discussed topics among people.

I’m not in a mood to talk about sex today, because the other one is more on my mind.

It’s on my mind because my need for it has grown exponentially over a very short time. It’s on my mind because I’ve been running short of it recently. It’s on my mind because others have been running short of it, and have been asking me for it.

I received distressing news last night about a couple we know quite well. Apparently they are short on money (due to some reasons I will not bother to write) and need very urgent assistance, preferable within the next 2 days.

“How? What do we do? Can we loan them the money?” my other half asked me just as I was about to fall asleep.

I kept silent. Truth be told, I didn’t know what to do.

So many thoughts ran through my head. I was exhausted and had a 4 hour drive to make 5am in the morning I refused to answer.

The next day, in the middle of my work day she text me.

“They want an answer desperately. Tell me what should I do or say?”

I thought hard about it again. I replied.

“Please explain that we are hard pressed too. We’re making a down payment on the house, we’ve got 4 mouths to feed, house expenses and bills, a business to run, many debts owed to us from others and ZERO savings… how much can we help?..... BUT… by God’s grace, we WILL help whatever way we can k. We’ll discuss how much we can give tonight.”

And that was that.

We’ve financially helped 4 to 5 other people within the last one year.

My own brother did not have enough money for a down payment on his car. His old car was falling apart and he needed to change. We lend him the money out of love. He hasn’t been able to repay us yet. Another friend of a friend apparently was next to being evicted by their landlord and needed cash quick. We trusted our friend and loaned the money. After many false promises, the money is nowhere in sight. Three other people owe us money for different reasons, but the point is, we haven’t received our money.

And here there came another person asking for help.

The couple that needed the money were easily twice our age. But they were not doing very well financially, to the point of almost being declared bankrupt. But they were good people. They were the Godparents of my other half’s younger brother. Ten years ago, when it was him that needed help, this couple was there to help. They gave him shelter, they gave him love. Today the tables have changed, and I felt it was only right to help them. How could we NOT help?

Yet, how do we help when even on our own, we are just getting by?

Rent to pay, bills to pay, car to maintain, a new house mortgage, and four jobless people I am single handed-ly supporting. As good as my pay is, it’s still not enough. And as icing to the cake, people are asking for our help with money.

What am I, a bank?

Sigh.

My first instincts are to say “Sorry, can’t help you.” It’d be SO easy to say that. And no one could ever blame us for saying it.

Yet….. yet…..

I know in my heart that I could never turn down a person who was genuinely in need. Because once upon a time, I was a person genuinely in need. And in those times, I was selflessly helped by other people. That debt weights heavily on me. Not just towards the people, but to God almighty himself. It’s hard to ignore grace when you’ve been such a big beneficiary of it. And because of that, even if it means being stupid, being foolish or being naïve, I know we will eventually help them.

Will we suffer? Will it hurt us financially by helping them? Probably.

Will we be duly repaid the money or the deed, I honestly don’t know. I hope so.

Doing this – lending money again – sounds noble and you may think I’m trying to earn ‘brownie points’ for being a good guy. Trust me, I’m not. In fact, I feel really really stupid for agreeing to it.

But I know it’s the RIGHT thing to do,

Because it’s the LOVING thing to do.

Matthew 25:45

Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’.

Finding Ways Or Excuses

2011-05-06T12:24:00.001+08:00

In life, there will be people who succeed, and there will be people who fail.

The people who fail always think the ones that succeed do so because they were better, smarter, or simply, luckier.

But that’s not true.

The only real difference between them is this;

One learned to find excuses.

The other learned to find a way.

Singapore Votes

2011-05-06T12:22:00.000+08:00

I’ve always found Singapore and Singaporeans an interesting bunch to observe. Mainly because the country is darn efficient, the government so darn ‘corporate like’, the country so darn organized, the whole place just feels rather... creepy... in a sterile sort of way.

I’ve always been interested to know how this affects the mentality of the people who live (or make a living ) there. Just a few weeks ago, I read this story about how a woman got killed over an argument over a pair of chopsticks. I guess the stress really gets to people there.

But for the last 2 weeks or so, something else has been brewing in the hearts and minds of Singaporeans. And it all boils down to one word – Election.

I’ve spoken to a lot of Singaporeans over the past few years. A typical Singaporean would be intelligent, hardworking and well exposed to the world, but also frustrated, tired and also resigned to obeying all the numerous laws, regulations and rules imposed by every arm of the Government (and just like the Indian God Kali.. the Government has MANY arms)..

Elections have also been something of a joke here, mainly because there simply has been no need for it. Since independence, the ruling party has won no less than 95% of the seats in every election. Supposedly because the Opposition just aren’t qualified enough to run the country just yet. An interesting thing about Singapore politics is this – academic / corporate pedigree seems to be a big thing. Candidates touted for elections are often highly qualified people, with Ivy league degrees or high flying corporate positions. Mr Lee Kuan Yew and his son are both double degree holders from Cambridge University. To counter that, the opposition have recruited a guy with a TRIPLE degree, all from Ivy League universities.

Back in Malaysia, I don’t think we even know what our Prime Minister studied in university… or if he even went to university.

Elections really are the talk of the town this week. Even the radio gives instructions on how to vote.

And although everyone generally knows that there is a 99.9% chance the ruling party will retain government easily… I think Singaporeans are excited because for the first time in a generation, there is actually an alternative they can vote for. Whether or not they actually do so is a different matter. But suddenly having an option to choose has given the people here a sense of empowerment. What more when voting is actually compulsory here. You can see it in their eyes when they talk about it. There is a spark in their eyes.

Happy Voting Singapore.

Fastball - Out of My Head

2011-04-21T12:50:00.002+08:00

This song gets me in such a nostalgic mood.

I notice I tend to like simple songs like this. Songs with a very clear and easy to follow tunes.. almost folk-ish even. Songs you sing along to.

Especially so when the song has beautiful simple lyrics.

The thing about words is this - They are beautiful not when they rhyme.. they are beautiful when they come from the heart.

When Rainbows Still Enchant You

2011-04-20T19:13:00.003+08:00

For the life of me, I still can't figure it out.

But there is something about you that just completely melts me. I know you get that from many men, and its nothing unusual for you. But it's unusual for me. Because I don't get that way with many women. In fact, just you.

It's like I'm permanently enchanted by you... even as I know you had cast no such spells on me.

I still feel so silly.. silly like a 12 year old still trying to deal with his first crush five years on. Silly like a 12 year old who still gets butterflies in his stomach just thinking about the girl. Silly like a 26 year old admitting he feels like a 12 year old.

You've always made me feel silly that way. But I wouldn't say it was or is a bad thing. Only that it is so.

How are things? How are you? What's going on? How's your new love? I don't even know. It's not even my place to know anymore. I tell myself that sometimess, in order for new things to flow in, others must bow out...and stay out... even if that others means me.

After all this time, I fully expected this fondness I have for you to have died down. It's the only way I can really believe that I wasn't weak, that I know how to move on, that I don't live in the past.

Yet, here I am, silently stalking you online like some creepy weirdo, still feeling deep down somewhere the remnants of that short but burning passion that we experienced together once upon a time.

There are only two ways I can explain it to myself. Either it is me; who has somehow developed a dysfunction or obsession with you that even watching you sing a simple song on youtube makes me feel like a silly boy too shy to admit his admiration, only daring to observe from afar...Or its you; you and your uniqueness, rawness, courage, weakness, strength and zest for life. Maybe that is the thing that has gotten me so transfixed. Like the light of a firefly hovering over a calm river at night... my eyes fall so naturally on you.. with such wonder and fondness...because your spark, like that of a firefly, is gentle and small, yet bright enough to make a dark river become magical dance of light.

The happier I see you, the happier I am too. I'd say live well... but I think you need no advice on that.

My warmest wishes and constant prayers for you dear friend.

Blah..

2011-04-20T16:54:00.000+08:00

Hello God.

Yeah. It’s me again. You know how people always say “Same shit, different day”? Yeah well… so far, that doesn’t apply to me. It’s more like different shit, different day, everday.
I know you’ve got all this big plans and all for the universe, for the world, for mankind, and even more me… but really at this moment in this, you really gotta cut me some slack and answer me this:

Why the heck am I here doing what I’m doing? What is it that I’m supposed to learn? What is it that supposed to happen? Where is it you want me to go? What is it you want me to do?

Because very frankly God, I have no idea. Sometimes I think I do, but then you have this knack of throwing curve balls that no one seems able to catch. And since you’re the God of everything, I assume fairly accurately that you do know what’s going on.

According to you “In his heart, man plans his course, but the Lords determines his step.”… True enough, after planning my course, the steps don’t quite tally with the plan. Kinda like sailing. The captain sets his course and navigates accordingly, but in the end, his boat will go only where the sea and its winds will take him.

So where are you taking me God? Where are you taking me? If my job is to walk the paths presented before me, then why THIS path? Why do I find myself doing all THESE things?

In my heart, I think that perhaps if I knew the answer, I’d thread it more boldly, with a better sense of purpose. We all want to know the destination before experiencing the journey. It’s our funny way of gauging if the destination will be worth the journey. All that talk about the journey being the destination itself… well frankly, it doesn’t entire hold water. Journeys are incidental in moving towards a destination. You never set out on a journey for the sake of it, with no destination in mind.

But in many ways, isn’t that exactly how we all start life? We are born, raised, educated and thrown out into society, fully expected to know how to function and contribute. We’re all expected to know just what we want out of life and we want to achieve.

We didn’t ask for this life, though it was gifted to us. And in living it, we are then left to answer WHY this gift was given in the first place. It’s like we’ve all been kidnapped from a previous life and dropped into this Paradise island that’s both a mixture of heaven and hell. And with no visible host, no tour guide, no camp commander, we don’t really know what the heck we are supposed to do on this island.

Sigh.

Don’t mind me. I’m just ranting.

It’s just been a really shitty day.. that’s all.

Cheers everyone… and God.. if you read my blog, if you’re not going to tell me where this train is heading, then at least make the trip a fun one.

A Man Can Change His Stars

2011-04-11T17:37:00.000+08:00

hey you..

Sorry if I haven't posted anything in a while now. Or rather, sorry if I haven't posted anything GOOD for a while now. It's probably because I haven't been feeling particularly inspired of late. Whenever I think of posting, I am faced with a dilemma. To write regularly (even when there's nothing great to write about) and have a consistent flow of mediocre post.. just for the sake of activity on this blog... or be a purist... and blog ONLY when there's some really awesome thing I want to say (no matter if that means one post in 6 days or 6 months).

Sometimes,, the words flow out of me so naturally like song. The words gush out in beautiful prose.. beautiful pieces of poetry that became as much a joy to write as it is to read. Other times, it's like vomit that just won't come out. You try to regurgitate it.. you make awful noises, then finally, a lump of puke just gets thrown out in the most disgusting fashion.

Anyway.............

The year has been very much a 'grit your teeth and slug it out' kinda year so far. Not that life has taken a downturn suddenly. If you haven't read any dramatic or emotional post of late, it's mainly because there hasn't been any dramatic or emotional incidences of late. The only difference is.. I've been working extra hard at life... trying to achieve things... trying.... to change my stars.... a lot like what Heath Ledger was doing in this movie A Knights Tale. (What a brilliant actor he was)

"A man CAN change his stars. And I won't spend the rest of my life as NOTHING." said William.

"We're the sons of peasants. Glory and riches and stars are beyond our grasp. But a full stomach; THAT dream can come true" said Wat

"Roland, please.....With thirteen silver pieces three men can change their stars." said William.

"...........[ponders]....... God love you William.." said Roland.

It's just a movie... but can't you just tell how even in todays world, this is how we all are? Hundreds of years later, with so many advances in technology, philosophy and science we are all still trapped in a society where the majority of people do not dream of anything beyond keeping their stomachs full... because any dream beyond that would be more of a fantasy. Despite all our grumbling, we are all contented to just get by. We say we'd like to shoot for the stars, but we really just want to stay at home where it's safe. We believe that great achievements and success belong to other people who have it gifted on a silver platter.. that it's just somehow their fate.. and not ours. "Since I wasn't born with it, it's not mine to have."

Perhaps I'm just a foolish hoper... but I am inclined to believe what the character William said in the end... that with just thirteen silver pieces.. three man CAN change their stars.

And it all starts with believing.

Relatives...

2011-04-04T15:37:00.000+08:00

Relatives. I’ve never fancied them much. Individually, they are alright. But as a whole.. Urrgh..

I was just catching up with a cousin I hadn’t spoken to in years. And if you were to believe what my relatives have been talking about me.

According to them, I told another cousin over MSN chat that I was now working in Saudi Arabia in some big time Oil and Gas company, earning a five figure salary. On top of that, I was now a PROFESSOR, giving out classes and consultation services!

First of all.. I haven’t spoken to this cousin for at least 5 years. Secondly, I haven’t logged on to MSN chat for probably 10 years. Thirdly, I have never been to Saudi Arabia in my life. Fourthly, I don’t work in a big Oil and Gas company earning five figures and lastly…. I certainly am NOT a professor.

So with all this in my mind… all I really wanted to say was… “What The F*ck?”

But I didn’t. If something I didn’t say could be spun into such an absurd story, God knows how THAT sentence would evolve once word gets around my relatives.

Not that my relatives are evil. In fact, I happened to like this particular cousin. But he was the exception. The rest of them are just negative, busybody gossip peddlers.... It’s fine if it’s just harmless pieces of information like how I’ve gotten fat, or my house roof collapsed or something like that. But when it turns into something like the above, I draw the line.

Because if the lie continued and I was still unaware of it, their perception of me, and what I truly am no longer tallies. Suddenly, high flying, high paying me who did not pick up the bill for the entire household becomes a cheapskate. Suddenly, not chipping in more money for my grandmothers medical expenses is being selfish.

At some point, I just want to say “Screw family.. screw the relatives…”

I feel a bit bad saying that considering just last week I was just expounding the virtues of family values in Asian society to a certain Frenchman.

But the same thing that’s so great about family is also the same thing so horrible about it. With family, no matter what happens, they will still be family. The links cannot be broken. But by the same token, family will be family…..no matter how hard you try to get rid of them. I guess that’s just it family… like this… like that…. Comme ci, comme ça

A Treasure On Loan

2011-04-01T16:57:00.000+08:00

“Don’t you find it scary?”

“What?”

“The end of the world… 2012.. With all the shit happening of late.. don’t you think it’s scary?”

“What are you afraid of? We’ve all got to die some day anyway.”

“Yeah… but if its like in the movies and we’ve got nowhere to run to.. man.. it’s going to be crazy.”

“You got to stop watching those crap dude.. But then again, if your time is up and death comes for you, do you really think anyone could run from it?”

“True…. But still… it’s going to be scary.....”

“I guess so…I think the end of the world is always going to be scary. But to some, the end of the world also means the start of something else… something spanning eternity. Ever heard of something like that?”

“Of course… heaven on earth right?”

“mHmmm... a lot of people wait till it’s the end of the world before they start believing in something called God. But by then, it’s too late.”

“No problem... We'll just go to church and repent in December this year. ”

“Erm... maybe it's better before December.”

“And why is that?”

“Well…… because it might end THIS YEAR… “

The point:

Waiting for the end of days the same as waiting for your own death. The timing is irrelevant. People shouldn’t be any more obsessed about the end of the world as they are with their own death. More important than when it’s going to happen, is ARE YOU READY FOR IT? I heard a speech by Steve Jobs once and he said “If you live everyday like it’s your last, eventually you’re going to get it right.” If you died today, if Armageddon was today, go you must, die you will… but will you be doing it WILLINGLY? READILY?

The thought of dying, and the thought of the end of the world scares people because they cling to this world so tightly without realizing that it’s a world that is already decaying anyway. It scares them because this world and this life is all they think they have and they don’t want to lose it.

Life on earth is a gift we all receive. I don’t think anyone will argue with that. But in a sense, although gifted to you, you don’t really own your life anymore than you own the world and all its wealth. We are beings merely passing through.. given a chance to marvel at creation, to be a guardian and steward for a brief time of all things created. Then when our time is up, we pass on the baton to others and we return to the one who brought us there in the first place.

Life

It was never a gift you own.

It’s a treasure on loan.

With Passion

2011-03-24T01:47:00.001+08:00

I was just reading an interview done by The Star with Martin Yan.

For those of you who don’t know, Martin Yan is one the earliest TV celebrity chefs around for the last few decades. He’s also the most successfully Chinese celebrity chef I can think of in the western world. Kinda like Jackie Chan, but in cooking instead of Kung Fu.

I used to watch him on TV when I was a kid. His knife skills are unbelievable. Watch him slice through a tomato and you’ll start to think that perhaps cutting vegetables isn’t all that lame after all.

Nothing extraordinary about the interview. But I really liked it when he said this “when you are passionate about what you do, work becomes a pleasure. I am willing to do it for free”…

How many people do you know are currently earning a living doing something they are passionate about? I’d say that 95% of us are doing what we do because that’s our job. And that’s our job because earlier, that’s what we studied. And that’s what we studied because our parents (or we) though it would give us a decent, steady job. So we all got exactly what we were looking for… but we still got it wrong.

I met someone who was a copywriter not too long ago. I sat down and shook her hand and said “You have, what I would imagine would be my dream job. You write, and you get paid for it.” The response? “You must be joking.” Later I found out that even though writing WAS her passion, being a copywriter isn’t quite the same as being a ‘writer’ in the purest sense. You had to write what other people tell you to write, not what you want to write. Sounded more like a typist if you asked me.

Seldom do you find people who are actually passionate about what they do. When you do, you know it instantly. No one can ever talk about something their passionate about, and not exude a certain sparkle in their eyes and enthusiasm in their voice. For the rest of us, the thing we do are at best ‘somewhat interesting’, or at worst ‘so f**king boring’.

Whenever I get to know someone new I like to ask them this question:

“What’s your passion?”

And there are ever only 2 kinds of response… those that answer in a heartbeat… and those that go “My passion ar??? ermmmmMMM“. And on that alone, you can usually guess just how well a person knows themselves.

Either way, I love listening to the answers people have for that question. Whatever it turns out to be – coffee, cars, stock market, women’s clothing, photography, real estate planning, molecular physics – you can bet it will be interesting. Because nothing spoken with passion can ever sound boring….

I have known a few friends who have really gone down the road less travelled by quitting their day jobs in pursuit of their passion. With little certainly of success, and perhaps even lesser pay, it certainly is a brave move. But I respect people like that. I think that if you ever find your passion in life and manage to run to it, even if meant losing out financially, it would still be worth it. Even though money is such a critical aspect to our daily survival, happiness and fulfilment and success in life isn’t just about filling your pockets with more of it.

I’d love to be able to do what Martin Yan said… to work at something I’m so passionate about I’m even willing to do it for free.

The problem is, the thing I’m so passionate about doing in life is actually this - nothing. I want to sit around and do nothing. And if I really go into that full time…. Well………. I will probably really have to do it for free. XD

Cheers!

Since Graduating

2011-03-23T16:03:00.005+08:00

Life’s never dull when you know learn how to observe.

It’s been almost ten years since I left high school.

Thanks to the power of mobile phones, emails and Facebook, the people of our time no longer need to wait to that annual coffee shop alumni gathering before we know how our old friends are doing in life. Back then, you had a once (or twice) in a year chance to talk to them and see how they have moved on in life.

Some people treat it like a competitive sport. They want to know where they stand among the rest of their peers. Whether their lagging behind or far ahead of the pack. As if it was some sort of ‘social race’ to see who is the most successful.

I remember much more innocent days, when everyone was equal.

Everyone left school at the same level playing field. We attended the same stupid morning assemblies, we faced the same crazy teachers and we all ate the same crappy canteen food. Nobody wore make up, nobody had fancy hairstyles… You COULD wear any shoe you liked as long as it was made of canvas and it was white in colour. We all wore ugly green pants and white shirts, blue pinafores with ponytails or baju kurung with white tudung. Did I say equal? I mean identical.

A quick check a.k.a. stalk on Facebook of how my high school friends reveal just how different things are today. Some are single, many are dating, a few are married (perhaps with kids even)….don’t know if anyone is divorced. But we’ve all become different things; accountants, engineers, managers, business owners, tax collectors (gasp!), government officers, bankers, teachers, navy officers……… the list just goes on and on.

Very frankly, I have not kept in touch with many of these friends. I can count with two hands the number of friends I continue to be in regular contact with. The closest I ever got to rekindling any sort of friendship with the vast majority was by adding them on Facebook. I can’t even say I recognize everyone I added. Compared to what I remember from 10 years ago, some have grown fatter, some of grown hotter, not many have grown any taller, though all of us have grown older.

I remember walking around the school block in the last days of school finishing off our SPM papers. There was this point when I was walking home. I stopped, turned around and looked at my school and the rest of the kids walking home; and I remember noting to myself – this will be the last time in my life I will be doing this. With the song Graduation by Vitamin C playing in my head, I went home and changed out of that white shirt and green pants and canvas shoes. I never wore them again. For my friends and I, so ended a chapter in our lives.

Fast forward to today, I imagine many of us have advance through a few more stages in life. The time in between then and now has meant that they have changed, and so have I. I can no longer say I know these old friends anymore. To meet up again would not be the simple case of picking up right where we left off. Like a tree growing bigger and taller with time, we are now more than what we used to be many seasons ago.

Unless one of us decides to pick up the phone and call one another, I doubt many of our paths will cross again.

But it might still happen.

Who knows right?

So if we get the big jobs
And we make the big money
When we look back now
Will our jokes still be funny?
Will we still remember everything we learned in school?
Still be trying to break every single rule
Will little brainy Bobby be the stockbroker man?
Will Heather find a job that won't interfere with her tan?
I keep, I keep thinking that it's not goodbye
Keep on thinking it's a time to fly
And this is how it feels

Graduation (Friends Forever) - Vitamin C

Ramblings on Life

2011-03-21T19:27:00.001+08:00

I haven’t done any sort of random rambling for a while now, so here goes.

The Tsunami in Japan - with all his brilliance and advances in technology, man is quick to forget one thing – his fate was, is and always will be at the hands of cosmic powers greater than he.

A smiling face and a sincere heart will diffuse everything.

The intelligence of people is inversely proportionate to their numbers. A single person is often smart and intelligent, capable of reason and logic. But a group of them somehow becomes a lump of stupidity devoid of sound judgement.

People are spurn into action (or inaction) always and ever for two reasons only – to avoid a loss, or to make a gain.

The world is full of naysayers. Always telling you can’t do this, you can’t do that. Someone should tell them they can’t do that.

When someone says “Trust me…” …. You’re screwed.

A bitter truth about society - sometimes, being the best isn’t good enough. But if you ask me, being good is still the best.

You never know who your true friends are until you start asking for help.

It feels good to be respected. But it feels even better to be loved.

In the world of business, there are no enemies. There are no friends. There are only – frienemies.

When working with people, remember two words – mutual benefit. You always get what you give. So when you win, and they win, you win twice.

When dealing with loved ones, always forgive... and when you can't forget, just pretend you have
.

Hold no grudges. Bitterness is like taking your own poison hoping the other person will die.

Fear; some conquer it. Some are conquered by it. But with no exception, we all experience it.

Life is like a football match. Thirty thousand people will do nothing but sit by the sides cheering, booing, supporting or criticizing. But only 22 people are truly living life playing the game. Ask yourself… which one are you?

That’s all for now…

Cheers!

No Place Like Home

2011-03-21T12:57:00.000+08:00

Love is in the air
Everywhere I look around
Love is in the air
Every sight and every sound

Love is in the air
In the whisper of the trees
Love is in the air
In the thunder of the sea

I stood still listening to the band crooning out this song, half bobbing my head, half tapping my feet. A smile crept up my face last night as I heard it. Something about the lyrics was really agreeable with me. To have a long crappy, stressful day, then to suddenly walk into a live band singining 'Love is In The Air' with a big grin on their faces, its.... its.... well, lets just say its a great way to lift your spirits.

Cool night breezes, open air cafes, friendly people, great food, live music everywhere.. sometimes I don't understand why people don't think this is a great country to live in. For all the charm, beauty and wonder of foreign lands, for all the excitement, thrill and adventure it offers, I still find that in the end - there is no place like home...

Not because it's 'prettier' or 'nicer' or anything... but simply because it is what it is - Home.

“Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to” John Ed Pearce

In Everything Give Thanks

2011-03-09T13:58:00.000+08:00

Dear God,

I'd tell you you're great, but you already know that.I'd tell you you're generous and giving, but you already know that. I'd tell you that you are the most abstract, yet most consistently present force in my life, but you already know that too.

You're always there, you always know what's best for everyone. And you always help those who come to you sincerely, humbly and with open hearts. I didn't always know that. But now I do.

Thank you... for everything.

Yours sincerely
Me

An Employee's Fate

2011-03-03T17:17:00.002+08:00

The Boss is crazy,
the work is busy
I’m so lazy
I wish I just had it easy.

I’ll be home late honey,
trying to earn some money
Boss said he’ll pay me a penny
He thinks he’s very funny.

The office - a cave
And you - the slave
Fight with boss? So brave!
Want your salary? Better behave

Emails to send
Documents to amend
Work never seems to end
I need you, oh glorious weekend!

Doing the things you hate
Till the night is late
That’s how it is mate
An employee’s fate!

Some Hearts

2011-02-28T00:16:00.000+08:00

Hi there,

I don’t really have anything worthy to say tonight. I just wanted to sit and listen to myself type and see what comes out.

I’m alone. I could go home, but I just don’t want to yet. I want to sit here, and here the sound of my keyboard as I type this words out. I say that, but actually what I’m really doing is listening to myself think.

I think it’s my perpetual need for solitude every now and then. I need it as much as I need the company and love of people around me. I always feel the need to be loved and wanted. I suspect we all do. But I also feel the need to be alone sometimes. This I know, not everyone will fully understand.

It’s peaceful, and almost joyous in a way. To have a quiet moment and time to yourself. A sort of serenity descends on me when there is quietness and no one is around and I am free to do exactly what I’m doing now. Writing out whatever comes to mind.

People have been writing diaries and personal journals for ages. And I think by now I understand intimately just way. Those who write are often reflective and pensive people. Those who write often have a thirst for truth, not just on the outside but also on the inside. People who write often dig into the inner most parts of their psyche and heart for the truth. Because they know that unless confronted, our hearts hide, mask or deny the truth rather than reveal it. Because revealing truth is often painful.

I realize that though all of us have hearts made of flesh and blood, not all are the same. Some of hearts that are strong, courageous, unyielding, unbending, and able to withstand all sorts of attacks, knowing not the definition of fear. Others have hearts that falter so easily, they get frightened and the fire in them gets squashed out with little resistance. But I have seen also seen some hearts; small as they are, weak as they may be, strive and persevere and refuse to be beaten. Hearts that have a fire can be dimmed, but refused to be put out.

I realize that the strongest people I’ve known are not the people who dare face everything the world has in store for them, but the people who dare face the things that manifest in their hearts. Because when you take a closer look, it’s not the former but the latter that is the hardest to confront.

Good night friend. I hope you are well.

From
Me

Memories of Sheffield

2011-02-27T23:39:00.000+08:00

“So how are things in Sheffield? Still the same?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” she said.

“But it has changed still… there are a lot less people these days. Many of you are all back here, and there are so few of us left.”

I just nodded in silence. I had dreamt many times of going back there one day. I knew there was nothing in itself that was particular special. Sheffield was just like a lot of other English towns. Small, quaint, quiet, cold. It was more about the idea of Sheffield, and what it represented to me personally that has led my mind back to it over and over again.

It was a place of escape, of new beginnings, of self exploration and learning. It left and indelible mark on me. I don’t know if it was despite of or because of how short a time I was there.

I learned the sense of comradeship people tend to develop with one another when living in a foreign land. Somehow, everyone you befriended were not just your normal friends back home. They were almost your brother / sister away from home. They looked out for you and kept you company, and you did the same for them.

I learned another way of life. One that did not involve viciously struggling and fighting in the corporate world for money or influence. I learned about summer barbeques, picnics in beautiful gardens and hills. And I even learned that walking to and from work / studies was perfectly fine.

And though I miss the beautiful hills, gardens and cool summer air, the thing I really missed the most was the bond I shared with the people I had come to know. I had grown so fond of them. I met a guy named Jason, whom I though (and still do) was the kind of cool guy I always wanted to be. An elderly lady named Auntie Ruth was also there, who showed me how a person could be 65 years young. I deeply respected a guy named Chee Meng, who sort of took on the role of an elder and took care of everyone. And I befriended a bubbly, cheerful but caring lady named Mary, who for some reason I grew the fondest of. It was her that I was speaking to now.

“Seeing all of you here, it makes me want to come back.” She had that look on her face. The kind of look a person has when their hearts are torn between two lovers, or in this case, two places.

I nodded again in silence. I understood.

To her right sat Jason. He came back two years ago, working in Kuala Lumpur. We just finished talking about his passion for running, and his super cool Vibram shoes. Brother Chee Meng had also came back 2 year earlier. He was no deeply involved in teaching English to the children of Myanmar refugees. A few moved to Manchester, or London. So many more had come home. And the new people who came, didn’t take root and didn’t bother to bond.

From my eyes, Sheffield was where all these great people and great memories were. But I could see through hers eyes that that Sheffield no longer existed. It’s shell was there, but big parts of its innards had been removed…..

And tonight, that big parts of that were sitting right at the table, coming together because of a common past and memory. Beautiful and sad at the same time.

I put my hand on her shoulder, as if trying to comfort her.

“Well, you can always come home Mary. We’ll all be happy to have you.” I said. Selfishly of course. We always want the people we love close to us.

We can never get back the memories of Sheffield we once knew. We can never make things back to the way they used to be. But we can make new memories, and they can be great too… right here in KL.

God bless you Mary. Till we see you again.

Take good care of yourself.

The Vanishing Roti Man

2011-02-25T13:41:00.000+08:00

It’s amazing how fast and how dramatically things have changed within the last 10 or so years...

I was just driving one day.. and there was a man on a motorbike in front of me and his bike was filled EVERYWHERE with bread, junk food and pastries. I was kind of surprised, because I hadn’t seen such men in such a long long time. I’m sure you’ve seen him before too. Here it is:

Familiar to you? Yes, it’s the Roti Man. (Roti = Bread) Many of us grew up to the familiar sight and sound of the Roti Man going house to house, tooting his horn announcing his arrival. All you had to do was open your door and shout “Roti!” and he would park right at your doorstep. Kids and parents from all around would start to gather around his bike to make their purchases.

The Roti Man used to be such a common feature in neighborhoods back then. These days, you only find him in the suburban areas or in small towns… even then, I doubt if there are many of them left. Something tells me that in another ten years… the roti man will most likely be extinct.

What has changed? Well, people did. People no longer waited at their doorstep for the Roti Man to buy their weekly loaf of Gardenia like they used to. No time. People also started living in Condominiums and gated communities…. places the Roti Man had no access too. And as for the Roti man… selling roti probably got harder and harder. Hypermarkets sold the same things he did at a much lesser price and with greater variety. The cost of fuel for his motorbike was also escalating every year. His customers taste buds were also getting much too sophisticated. He had kaya, butter and coconut. People wanted croissants and baguettes. The roads seemed to get busier and more dangerous as the years went by… and he was getting older and older. His strength was leaving and his eyes were failing. A day will come when the roti man will have to stop riding.

I suppose it’s inevitable. As times change, new things come into being and old things go extinct. My dad told me there was once a group of people called Stevedores who loaded and unloaded ships at docks. Stevedores are extinct by now of course. Next to the Roti Man, I think the Putu Mayam uncle, Susu Kambing seller and the old newspaper collector might well go down the road of extinction too.

Remember the old newspaper chant?

“Sao Gau Pou cheee! Oww Newsss Payper! Peli sulat kapar lama, peli payper lama, peli pattery lama”… honk honk honk… then repeat….

Can you recall how that looked and sounded? I do.. And for what it was, I considered it charming. It’s a sad thought knowing that many people these days won't get to experience that sort of thing anymore. We’re more occupied with Facebook, Twitter and a slew of other online preoccupations these days. I don’t think anyone would notice even if the Roti Man did drop by.

To us, the Roti man is vanishing from our neighbourhood. But to the Roti Man, it is we who have been vanishing from our doorsteps.

What You Give

2011-02-25T12:30:00.001+08:00

I stood in front of a showcase of women’s jewellery, staring with my mouth wide open.. both in awe and in shock. A beautiful diamond studded necklace, with a price tag equivalent to the price of a small car, or working man’s wages for a full year, and many times over a beggar’s collection for life.

An obscene amount of money to be paying for some shiny little stones to hang around your neck.

“Who buys these stuff anyway? Who could ever afford such things?” I asked myself rhetoricallly. I knew who.

The rich and ultra rich of course; the people we all love to hate, but secretly love to be.

The two people who were with me simply shook their head and walked away, with a look of disdain on their faces. But what were we expecting anyway? We were after all in Starhill, Bukit Bintang. Things didn’t get any more posh and expensive in KL than over here.

It’s not hard to understand why people sometimes harbour a dislike for the rich of society. Some would hate them simple because they aren’t one of them.

But for most of us, I think it has a lot to do with that necklace behind the showcase - sold at the price of a small fortune. The thought that there are people who not only afford, but actually do pay that kind of money for a shiny piece of ornament, while the majority of the population struggle with bread and butter issues, it’s just outrageous.

Nothing wrong with being rich. But I do wonder whether the people who buy these things with spare cash ever thought of spending that spare cash on charity instead. It could mean someone's education, it could mean someone's next meal. It could mean someones life or death. That same amount of money can change a person’s life.

I know this because that amount of money changed MY life. Someone who had that money made it a point to spend it on me, when money was the crucial determinant of how the rest of my life would unfold. Instead of keeping it for other things, they chose to bless me with it. They stood to gain nothing out of it, yet they did it anyway. With it, I got myself an education, a job and a life. I could afford paying my mother’s medical bills, I could afford no longer living on others sympathy. With it, my life changed course.

It’s so easy to hate the person who will ultimately buy that necklace. It’s easy to imagine that they are selfish, careless people blowing a fortune on superfluous things, conveniently ignoring the sufferings of the world. We want them pulled down to the ground, to taste the bitter earth and harsh soils the rest of us live in. We want to teach this rich brats a lesson or two about what it really means to have a tough life. That way we’d believe justice has been done and we’d sleep better at night.We want them to know that the amount of money they have has the power to change lives, but they are abusing that power on superfluous things.

But what if it’s not true? What if the person buying that necklace turns out to be someone really nice? what if what someone gives as much as he/she gets? Would you still resent them buying an expensive necklace even after having done more than their share of civic duties to society? Will you resent a billionaire who gives away billions?

It’s hard to hate a giver isn’t it?

Maybe what we really hate isn’t just rich people at all. Maybe its not so simple. Maybe what we hate are people that aren’t givers. People who have received so much in life yet fail to give back any. Rich people become easy targets because having a lot implies precisely that; that you have received plenty but given back little. But again, this is not an attack on people with money.

Forbes magazine tells you that the two richest man in the world, Warren Buffet and Bill Gates are also one of the greatest philanthropist in the world, having given away billions. But for me, there is someone else – a simple man named Rick Warren. Rick was the pastor who wrote the best seller book ‘A Purpose Driven Life’ that Christians the world over have read. The book sales made him an instant millionaire. What did he do with all that money? He gave it way.

ALL OF IT.

He even paid his church back all the salary he’d been drawing since the beginning.

If average joe’s like you and me received 10 million dollars out of the blue one day, how much will YOU give out?

It’s easy for billionaires like Bill Gates to give out billions because he already has more than he can ever need. Everything else after that is just about numbers. But for average people like you and me, how hard it is to give out money we so desperately need ourselves. In my heart, I believe Rick Warren gave more than Bill Gates and Warren Buffet, simply because it meant so much more to him than them. I wrote about this some time back, read it and you’ll see what I mean.

http://ifimbeinghonest.blogspot.com/2010/07/widows-offering.html

In the mean time, here’s the amazing talk and testimony Rick Warren gave. Do listen to it. It’s powerful, and inspiring. If only you listen.

If you're a rich man, and you're reading this. Think carefully about the next fifty thousand dollars you're about to blow at a casino or at the designer boutique. You have the power to either waste it away, or change someones life. Think about that for a moment.

And if you can't think of anyone in particular who needs it.... well, you can always give it to me. ;-)

Have a good weekend everyone.

Talk Is Cheap

2011-02-18T19:03:00.000+08:00

People are strange don’t you think?

Some yearn so much, yet do so little,
Some know too little, yet judge so swiftly,
Some desire so greatly, yet give up so quickly,
Some believe so intensely, yet falter so easily,
Some criticise so readily, yet help so reluctantly,
Some take so greedily, yet give so unwillingly

A lot of us are very good at saying all the right things.
A lot of us are very good at pointing out others faults.
A lot of us are very good at teaching others a thing or two about life.

Yet when it really comes down to it, many don’t live up to their own words.
Many don’t walk their talk. In fact, many do just the opposite of what they preached.

Why?

Because their hearts and minds don’t match.
Because the good things they preached were preached with very little emotional conviction.
They know with their head, but fail to embrace with their heart.

Your actions are guided by your heart more than it is by your mind.
What you do reveals more about your heart than what you say.
If you want to know what’s in a persons heart, look at what they do.

A person who loves you does it in action.
A person who wants to help you does it in action.
A person who wants to succeed does it in action.

Talk is cheap.

If you feel something in your heart and want it to manifest in your life...

DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

Why Men Hate Valentines Day

2011-02-14T18:57:00.001+08:00

So it’s Valentine’s Day today.

Rather interesting build up to Valentines day here in Malaysia if you ask me.

First the National Fatwa Council declared that was a Christian celebration that Muslims are forbidden to celebrate. (They also declared Yoga and chanting to be un-Islamic by the way). The Islamic Development Council (JAKIM) also went on an anti-Valentine’s day campaign to deter (ahem) innocent young Muslims from committing Khalwat or Maksiat…Then, local opposition parties said they were going ‘crackdown’ on couples trying to have immoral activities during V day. Here’s some of the news.

http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2011/2/12/nation/8054296&sec=nation
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2011/2/12/nation/8054296&sec=nation

Many a ulamaks and Ustazah had already declared that all these immoral, hedonistic, maksiat-ic activities were of Christian nature.

The local Christian community were of course going “~~WTF?~~ OMG? What’s this all about?” So the Church community duly declared that Valentines day was in fact NOT a religious celebration. They didn’t celebrate it anymore than they did Chap Goh Meh… The church shunned and preached against all sinful acts including immoral activities and overpriced flowers.

Needless to say, everyone eventually wanted to have put in their 5 cents on the matter. Politicians, NGO’s, Local Councils, Religious Departments… everyone started making press statements. Some agree, some disagree… rest just shrugged their shoulders and kept quiet.

But actually…. What most of us silently started to think was “Oh shit, it’s Valentines Day… AGAIN.” Well… at least the men do.

All men hate Valentines day just in case you didn’t know yet. Men associate it with overpriced flowers, fixed couples menus, unrealistic romantic expectations, and most disturbingly, a big hole in your pocket. If you’re a man and you don’t hate Valentines day, its may be because you aren’t dating anyone yet, OR romance comes second nature to you… in which case you’re probably Italian or Alien.

Women are divided into two. The ones that ~~naively~~ innocently expect to be romanced on this allegedly special day by their lover boy…. and the ones that battle-hardened enough to know that men just aren’t going to do anything (unless creatively forced into it).

Yes, creatively forced into it…

Because women being women… WANT to be romanced…. and they want it to be a natural part of the relationship. They want to man to wine and dine her, serenade her with sweet song, read poems to her, call her beautiful names and make her feel like the most specialest-est person on earth.

But women being women, also know well enough that men, being men, would not bother to make the effort without being ~~coerced~~ motivated into it. And so women come up with a lot of not-so-subtle hints that they expect something special on Valentine’s day.

Men being men, find that romance does not come naturally to them. Once in a while, yes. But naturally? No. But again men being men, usually try their best not to disappoint their other half. Hence after receiving various ‘hints’ that something special is expected on Valentines day, they give in. They have private mourning sessions in the foreknowledge that their wallets are about to be raped, and the devil-incarnate will dawn upon them in the form of Flower shops and Florist selling a dozen roses for three hundred dollars.

Many women cry when they receive flowers on Valentine’s day. But I’ll tell you a secret. Men cry too…. when we buy it that is.

Men are the sort that are used to doing things on their own terms. We don’t like it when we are forced to play by other people’s terms. And that’s exactly what happens on Valentine’s Day. The florist sets their terms, the gift and card shops sets their terms, and the restaurants sets their terms. Instead of feeling like a man taking charge of romancing his lady, we end up feeling like we’ve just been ripped off and emasculated more than anything else.

But it’s not all a lost. Even though romance is an alien word to us, men do try their best to make their partners happy, even if it cost us a little. Despite everything I’ve just said, men will still buy the overpriced flowers , expensive dinners and heart shaped chocolates to win a lady's hear.

Why?

Because we still love you more than we hate Valentines day.

Have a Happy Valentines Day everyone….

Coffeshop Talk : The Meaning of Life

2011-02-07T15:58:00.002+08:00

Spoken over a cup of coffee....

“My brother is still asking me what’s the meaning of life. What do you think I should say to him?”

“Tell him to look for the answer in church….”

“CHURCH? I don’t think he’ll be impressed by that answer.”

“Because if you try to look for the answer only in science and logic, it’s all doom and gloom. The facts tell us that life is basically about being born, growing up, falling sick, growing old, then dying. It does little to give any meaning or reason to it.”

“But if you want truth and meaning, then you need to look beyond science and facts… And start looking into religion, faith and spirituality.. Because the question of truth isn’t purely factual, its spiritual.”

“Hmmm……….so what do you think IS the meaning of life then?”

“Do I look like a Sage on a hill to you?”

“Come on, I’m sure you have an answer…”

“AN answer yes.. but not THE answer….”

“I think….. the meaning of life…. is………… relationship.”

“I think all of life is about that; our relationship with our fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, friends, colleagues, etc and also with God. I think relationships give meaning to life. That’s why 80% of the time, our worries and concerns in life are about relationship. Other things like money problems can always be worked out… and they almost always do.”

“But relationship issues are usually what give us the biggest thrills as well as heartaches. That’s why all the pop songs are love songs… Relationships stir and inspire us the most because ultimately, it’s what we all are wired to do – develop relationships.”

“And what about love? Do you think that there’s still a place for that? Because I know so many people who just don’t bother about love anymore.”

“I dunno….. I think that deep down inside, we’re all idealistic people. We want to believe that love is enough, that love is all conquering, that when two people love one another there is nothing they cannot overcome. I still try to hold on to that belief in my heart even as many others throw it out the window.”

“My own mother is like that. She is only concerned with money, security and materials… Nothing about love or relationships. What do you say to people like that? How do you make them believe in love again?”

“I don’t know………. Nothing really.”

“Really? Nothing?”

“I mean, you can’t really change them if that’s what you mean to do. But what you CAN do, is love them and make sure they know they are loved…. not because of anything they have, but simply because you do. Hopefully they will come around.....”

“And that’s the beauty about love; it’s not a zero sum game, it’s not a ledger sheet that must balance out. People love not because they gain a benefit out of it. On the contrary, people love because they want to bestow a benefit to someone else…even at their own expense.”

“A lot of times, people don’t know how to love because they have never been shown love, or they don’t recognize it when it’s there.”

“So you think I should try to get my brother a girlfriend? So that he can learn about relationships and love and stuff like that?”

“Hahaha… NO.”

“Then?”

“Tell him to go to church.”

***************************************

The poetry of life, with the love it contains and that contains it, is the only response to death - E. Morin, French philosopher and sociologist

The Difference Sometimes

2011-02-05T12:38:00.002+08:00

The difference between a friend and former friend is sometimes, just a call..

The difference between a lover and an enemy is sometimes, just an apology.

The difference between intimacy and alienation is sometimes, just a hug.

The difference between sincerity and pretentiousness is sometimes, just a heart.

Life isn't that complicated sometimes. It is us who complicates things.

In the long run, simple actions....simple words....and simple hearts......are what make the most profound differences in peoples lives.

Its not simple, living this life

Its hard and its harsh, its full of strife.

But in all that you do, God is there.

Look around you, love is everywhere.

So stay simple ans stay true

The only person you have to be - is you.

Time to Read

2011-01-28T18:19:00.001+08:00

I've been getting into the habit of buying a lot of reading material lately... which is a good thing if you think about it.

I was at the bookstore.. when I just couldn't resist buying a copy of National Geographic Magazine.. which is kinda like the Big Daddy of all general interest magazines with picture so awesome and beautiful nobody bothers to read the words....

I also couldn't resist picking up a copy of Readers Digest... which is kinda like the Big Daddy of all........ (wait a minute. I said that already)... which is like... a really good magazine la basically....

Then, I couldn't resist buying a copy of Personal Money (which sells out very quickly) because it's kinda like million dollar advice for the price of $9.90 per copy...

and I ALSO couln't resist buying a copy of Digital Camera magazine... which I buy just to easy my guilt for having not spend any time whatsoever on my 'so called' hobby of taking pictures. It seems I spend more time reading about photography than actually doing anything about it. Which wouldn't be too bad...if I actually did any reading at all.

The problem I've been having is that I've been BUYING reading material... as opposed to actually reading it.

In addition to all the awesome but unread magazine above, sitting on my shelf are half a dozen highly recommended, critically acclaimed novels and books all unfinished or unstarted. Then there's another half a dozen books about relationship and marriage that half a dozen people thought would be a good thing to get me for my wedding. I'm sure their pretty good... at least that's what the back cover says.

So it's a Friday evening as I write this. its 6pm..... and very frankly, I just want to go home and read one of my many unfinished books. But I can't because numerouus appointments await me, tasks need finishing, and work is just unending.

Sigh...

Time's is always balancing game. Too much of it and it drives you crazy.. too little of it, and it becomes a luxury.

Have a great weekend..

Bread and Lily

2011-01-27T19:12:00.001+08:00

Gosh, how fast the year has gone by! It feels just like not too long ago that I was crashing at a friends place celebrating the new year. And now, it's almost the end of January!

I was just reading through my last years post on Chinese New Year and trying to figure out what I want to say this year. I haven't really figure anything out, so I'm really typing on the fly here.

Chinese New Year is a lot about family, which I really like. I'm big on family. I think family is DEE most important and essential thing a person can have in his / her life. It is the backbone on which we all rely on for support in going through life. But that's a strange thing to say coming from me, because I'm the same guy who will tell you that I hate my relatives. OK, I don't really HATE them, but I keep an extremely healthy distance from them. Not that there is anything wrong with them.... I just find keeping up with relatives to be a messy.

I came from a broken family..... and the idea of what a family should be like qucikly evaporated the day I saw my father holding another woman in his arms and insisting that I call her mother.... Inwardly, I swore that he'd have to pry the words out of my dead cold lips... but in the end, like many obedient (and stupid) children, I obeyed and called her such.

Anyway, since then I had to redefine to myself what it means to be family... and by extension who my family really was.

And I guess in my heart, very simply.... family are those people I know who are care about me and love me... and I, them. Family are the people who show concern about you, send you messages, calls you up, has dinner with you... and just ....CARES.... Nothing complicated about that. No need to try to over explain it.

Many friends around me I consider family, even if we have no formal or blood relations. I love them like I would my own brother or sister..... I MAKE them my family. I don't think I'm a lone in this. Otherwise, you'd never hear people say the phrase 'they are like family to me'...

On the other hand, I've disqualified a lot of blood related relatives from my 'family' list... simply because I have no relationship whatsoever with them. Having the same kind of nose, jaw, eyes or ears proves we come from the same stock... not that we have a relationship by default.

When I was younger, my mother liked reminding me that 'blood will always be thicker than water'.. whereas friends come and go. I've always felt uneasy with that phrase. It's true that blood ties go a long way.... but I also always liked believing that bonds forged in the outside world meant something too.....

Anyway, I don't really have anything particular to say this time round. January 2011 has been a rather tough month for me. A lot of big decisions were made this month, some methodically planned ahead, some at the spur of the moment... but I know in my heart that ALL these decisions I have made will decide the course of my life for the next 5 years and beyond.. I'm fast learning that being an adult means that the perks are many, but the challenges are even more..

Scared? As hell....
Worried? Like shit.....
Determined? Like a rock..

There's an old chinese saying that goes

When you have only two pennies left in the world, buy a loaf of bread with one, and a lily with the other.

It's a fascinating proverb to me. No one has really explained to me what it means... But by reading it, I gather its trying to say to all of us that in spending the days of your life... remember not only to be concerned about the nitty gritty neccesities of life, but also the beautiful and wonderful things this world has to offer...because in the end, they both matter. I'll try to remember that the rest of the year.

Happy Chinese New Year my friend....

Dreamers

2011-01-24T14:00:00.002+08:00

There was once upon a time when we were all dreamers. We had small little bodies, funny looking hair and absolutely nothing to call our own in this world. And yet we had big dreams. There was nothing in life too big for us that we could not handle, there was no heights too high we could not reach. We had no strength, no inteligence, no experience, no wealth, no wisdom... but always had our dreams. Some dreamt of cotton candy fields, some dreamt of breezy ocean floors, and some, like me, dreamt of clear blue skies with the sun at the horizon.

We had dreams back then when we were called children.

And then we grew up.... and the larger our bodies grew, the more strength we gain, the more we experience life, the smaller that dream becomes... till eventually, it becomes nothing but a simple cubicle on the 15th floor we called our office.

Dreams don't belong in the real world. To have dreams is to be lofty, unrealistic and foolish. The world quickly teaches you that your life should be built not on cloudy dreams, but on the firm solid floor of reality. The world teaches you that dreams should be quantified in numbers and figures, deadlines and deliverables. If you're going to have a dream, then dream of the number you want to see in that bank account.

That’s the only dream the world allows you to have.

I stopped dreaming a long time back anyway.. long before I ever became an adult. There was just no time, and I just could not afford it. All I wanted was for everything to be okay.

But I have taken up to dreaming again of late. But this time, with eyes wide open. I dare myself to dream big, to imagine the impossible, to once again believe like a little child that when you dare to dream, it can come true...

Because it can, if only you dare.

"You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one..."
"I hope some day you'll join us, and the world will live as one..."

- John Lennon

When Life Overwhelms

2011-01-12T17:39:00.002+08:00

Have you ever felt overwhelmed by life and all its demands? Have you ever felt like all at once there are so many things in life competing for your time and energy and life force?

As I write this, a heavy weight overwhelms my heart. The pressure of having to rise up to the challenges life is throwing at me feels so high. While the better part of my life was spend trying to come to terms with things that happened in the past, I am now at that stage where everything is about the future, everything is about where you’re going to get, instead of where you’re from. It’s a strange world of uncertainly where the only certainly is the certainty of change.

What do I do? How do I split my time? How do I try to live up to high expectations and standards set for me in my corporate life? How do I balance out trying to be a loyal and committed employee while also trying to make a decent living out of building a small business of my own? No matter how I try to divide it, how do I fit in all the things I need to do when all I have is 24 hours in a day? How do I respond to the calling in my heart to be closer to God and the church? How do I balance between being a good provider for a family without having to sacrifice quality time with them? How do I live a life of integrity and purity, when work requires you to do things less than honourable? Where do I turn to for the right advise on matters of investment and money? So many things in life call out to me, demanding my response and action... but so many different people sing different tunes to me.

Some tell me to focus on the life that is to come, to not get trapped in the ways of the world. To lead a pure and holy life, to not be sucked into this rat race life puts us all on. To trust that God will provide and not be preoccupied with money, riches and wealth.

Some tell me to focus on my work in the corporate line. They say I have a good future. They offer me promises of money, position and freedom way beyond what normal working people will ever achieve. Yet it comes with a sacrifice, of your time and energy and everything else. The rewards are great, and yet so are the sacrifices – its all or nothing.

And some… promise me the world, if only I have the patience and endurance. They tell me I can have it all… money, time, freedom. They tell me that I don’t need to live a life like everyone else. There is an alternative… They tell me its an achievable goal. And I believe them. But you can’t abandon one ship before the other hasn’t been built. And to built a living that gives you all that requires luck… and a lot of time… time I seem to be running short of every single day.

It feels like each of my limb is tied to a different horse, and all horses are running in opposite directions. I don’t know how I’m supposed to hold it all together.

And times like this, as I sit alone, distancing myself from the world.. all I feel like doing is giving up. To say “To hell with society and all its expectations”… and live a life of mediocrity… because in that mediocrity… I know I can still be happy and contented. But the faces of the people I love never leave my mind. The thought of family and their need drives me on. I feel like for their sake, I cannot give up. For their sake, I cannot be so selfish. For their sake I must succeed.

Underlying it all is a fear… a fear that if I don’t succeed in life, I would have let everybody down.. including myself.

A Prayer for myselff

2011-01-12T17:13:00.000+08:00

Dear God,

I’m sorry. Please help me. I cannot do this myself. Please change my heart. Give me strength to turn away from all these sins I secretly desire. Break me from these chains. Free me from my own prison. I see what it has done to me. I see what it will do to me, if I do not stop.

Give me the will to want what is right. Because right now, I don’t want what is right, or what is pure or what is righteous. I don’t. Instead, all I want is what is fun, what is exciting, what feels good. And I can’t stop wanting these things. Every time I resolve to stop, it comes back again and again bigger and stronger. A war breaks out in my soul, and the part of me is righteous – it’s never allowed to win.

Thank you for today. Thank you for planting in me this conscience. I celebrate a small victory today, in trying to defeat this demon inside me. Though my heart resisted all the way and my hand turned heavy, I know deep down inside that I did the right thing, even if it feels lousy for now. Victory isn’t always followed by euphoria.

But I’m afraid. I don’t know how long this victory will last before sin quietly creeps up to me again and I slip back into the same old me all over again.

I know I have said this prayer before. But I must say it again. Help me dear God… let this dark hidden ugly part of me die once and all…

From
Me

Why You Get to Choose

2011-01-12T17:06:00.003+08:00

I spoke once to a guy about God and he had this to say to me…

“If God really wants us to be free, then why all these rules? Why all these commandments? Why all these thou shall not do this, thou shall not do that? If I fail to keep them because I was too weak, isn’t it his own fault? Because it was he who made me this way in the first place.”

“You mean in other words – everything is His fault right?”

“Yeah…”

“True… but you’re missing something. God said don’t do this and don’t do that. But he still left it up to us to decide for ourselves. He still gave us free will…”

“Yeah, well if He wants us to obey Him so much, why doesn’t He just control us and make us completely obedient? Why free will if it’s so much trouble? Why free will if you know we might very well choose something else?”

“Aaah… good point. But imagine this. You have a son. He’s your flesh and blood. Everything about him reminds you of yourself and you love him to bits. Would you want your son to be obedient to you?”

“Well………. Yes.”

“And when he obeys you, would you want him to do it because he fears you and has to, or because he loves you and WANTS to?”

“Of course… I will want him to WANT to.”

“And if he DOESN’T obey you and rebels, will you not still love him and want to see him come back to you one day?

“Yes….”

“Then you have your answer... and the answer in a word... is LOVE”

We are all given the privilege of free will for a reason.

Sadly, we often forget why.

The Road to Happiness II

2011-01-12T17:05:00.000+08:00

There is a disease in all of us. It’s sometimes called consumerism, it’s sometimes called materialism. But at the heart of it, it’s just something really simple – wanting more.

We always want more; bigger house, bigger car, fancier phone, nicer cloths, better food. Nothing wrong about wanting more, but the question is why? Why do we always want more?

A man fresh out of college would be ecstatic at owning his first car, even if it was just a clunky old frame with four wheels. Everyone knows the feeling of receiving a full pay check for the first time. We feel immensely satisfied. We feel like we’ve just received all that we could ever want and need at the time. We feel like we have enough.

But that feeling of enough never seems to last, does it? Suddenly we just can’t live with that squeaky sound from the car, it acts up too much, and driving a clunky old thing around Sri Hartamas just feel like an embarrassment. And that paycheck - a sum that earlier felt more like more money than you ever need becomes simply not enough.

Have you ever wondered about that? Why your first small paycheque could satisfy you the way you current one cannot? Why your old Nokia 3310 with no Bluetooth, no colour screen, no MMS, no Wifi, no 3G, was enough for you back but not anymore?

When we finally work hard, slog it out, and get that bit more, it’s not quite as satisfying as you thought it would be. There still are other better things to acquire. We remain none the happier. In fact, we become more miserable because now that we’ve just got this, we already want something else.

Our needs grow in proportion to how much we have. We get hungry faster and faster because our appetites get bigger and bigger. We find the need to always be acquiring bigger, better and more expensive things just to continue being happy and satisfied. It’s a law of Diminishing Returns. You spend more and more, to gain less and less levels of satisfaction.

The fundamental reason behind all of this is actually money and how we believe that it makes us happy.

We believe in money. And why not right? We’ve all seen the power of money; it’s ability to elevate us, to give us options, to open up doors, to solve problems, to provide instant gratification, to guarantee security, to afford comfort, to pretty much take care of every conceivable worldly need a person could have and so much more. There are plenty of people who will laugh and call you naïve and idealistic for saying that money can’t buy you happiness. They will cite to you many valid examples and situations where money can indeed buy you some form of happiness, or at least contribute to it; giving your family that holiday she always dreamt of, giving your wife that giant diamond ring, giving your child that toy they’ve been wanting all year, giving your parents that massage chair for the back. It’s hard for anyone to deny the essentialness of money and its benefits. There is nothing wrong with trying to earn a living and nothing wrong with wanting to do it well. The popular phrase ‘money is the root to all evil’ is actually untrue and misquoted.

But be weary. While money affords you many good things, it also affords and cost you more than you realize. People who have an abundance of wealth afford for themselves the ability to be insulated from the world, its sufferings and its needs. They become detached and live in a bubble far from reality. Those born into wealthy families are deprived of the opportunity for self achievement, of learning the importance of money (beyond their personal comfort). As a result, they sometimes become selfish, self centred with strong feelings of self importance, yet sorely lacking in self confidence. But mostly, the lack of any sort of suffering and overflow of comfort in their lives mean they forget, or never get a chance to know how true happiness is really obtained in life.

If more money does indeed mean more happiness, why aren’t the richest people in the world also the happiest in the world? Why did Mr. Adolf Merckle who was worth billions of dollars commit suicide, while Mr Matthieu Ricard , French monk living in Tibet clinically declared the Happiest Man In the World? Mr. Merckle committed suicide after he lost the bulk of his fortune. I’m pretty sure he still had a lot of spare change, but still he despaired in life and chose to end it. Mr Ricard monk owns nothing, yet has somehow found happiness. The reason we’re still not happier after having more money is because money is meant to be a means to an end, not an end in itself. But we’ve distorted (or forgotten) that and have made money and material gains an end goal.

Let me try to propose something to you

The road to happiness in life is actually the same road to meaning and purpose. To find one is to find the other. Regardless of how much (or for most of us, how little) money you have, happiness is actually found in doing meaningful things and discovering purpose in life. A man with great wealth will still be unhappy if he cannot find meaningful things to do with their money beyond serving themselves. That’s why you see wealthy people so eager to develop other people, set up charities and fund philanthropic efforts. They are each trying to do something that has a higher purpose. And for normal people who are unhappy, what you’re really looking for isn’t money, its meaning.

What are the deeper meanings things in life then? What higher purpose should we be aiming for then? What ARE the things we should do in life that will make us happy?

There’s no need to try to tell you what these things are. I suspect that deep down inside, each of us personally know what that is. But I’ll tell you this much –it’s not by adding onto ourselves, and its not by making even more money.

Cheers.

Other similar things I wrote here and here

Class Divide

2011-01-05T18:30:00.001+08:00

Have you ever notice how some people tend to associate themselves with certain things to try to come across as sophisticated to others, even when it truth they’re about as ‘kampung’ as they get?

Take jazz for example. Do you like jazz? Chances are, a lot of people will say yes. But how many people actually listen to jazz regularly? How many people actually understand it, or know a lot of jazz musicians? Truth is, we listen to Britney-Spears-type pop songs most of the time. But some of us will always say we like jazz, because we think jazz is cool…and not liking it would be… well… uncool.

Now take the case of coffee. What’s a good cup of coffee? Mr. Sophisticated will say he likes strong and dark made of freshly roasted and brewed Arabica beans. But actually, most people don’t bother knowing the difference between Arabica or Robusta or Kopi-O. We all actually want weak, milky, sweet instant Nescafe. But saying we like ‘americano’ is so much cooler than saying ‘kopi-o’.

Lastly take accents as the ultimate case. I’m from a country called Malaysia. Most of us here (and in Singapore) speak about 2 ~ 3 languages and our everyday banter is a weird mixture of English, Mandarin, Malay with a dash of Cantonese and Hokkien. Malaysians call it Manglish. Singaporeans call it Singlish. We like fighting about, even when its childish. But once in a while, you get someone who starts speaking English with a funny foreign accent (usually Australian, British or US)… And we go “WTF? You weren’t there THAT long okay. Quit the act la…” But it’s cool to have a foreign accent (if it sounds genuine enough) ain’t it?

I usually get very put off when I see people trying to put on airs, or try to appear sophisticated. But it’s hard to want to blame them entirely. Everyone, regardless of place and country, always try to move upwards. We all want move up a class. The poor want to be middle class, the middle class want to be rich, the rich want to be ultra rich, the ultra rich want to be famous, and the famous… well, they just want to be anonymous again.

It’s not really a crime to want to move up this social hierarchy. The problem I have, is that they try to do it by 2 superficial means – mannerism and money.

Mannerism is all the 3 examples I just talked about. They try to ‘act’ like someone they are not, thinking that’s how people above them act. But its seldom convincing we usually spot a fake pretty quickly.

Other people do it by ‘buying’ their way up. They have cash, either inherited or earned… and they just buy the expensive load of everything they can grab their dirty hands on. Thousand dollar shirt? Yes. Ten thousand dollar bag? Yes. Million dollar car? Yes…. Class?... Not necessarily.

Money buys you stuff, but it can’t buy you class. You can still wear carry a LV bag, Prada cloths, Jimmy Choo shoes and still be a total tramp. You can still wear Armani and a Philippe Patek watch and still be a complete bastard. People with class behave with class, and no amount of money can teach you how to behave. Those who can’t imitate their money, will try to imitate their mannerism. Hence the attempted association with supposedly sophisticated things.

But it doesn’t work.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to belittle anyone. I myself come from a normal worker class family. We’re not sophisticated, and the last time I checked, we’re still not wealthy.

So what ARE classy people like then? To me, they aren’t necessarily the people who have a lot of money, listen to jazz, wear designer clothing or speak with a fancy foreign accent.. though some of them actually do have those things. Classy people also never try to ‘act’ classy, nor do they try to impress other people that they are.

What they do is keep their pride, so that they never stoop down to the level of others who cheat, lie, scheme and deceive. Bu they’re also wise enough to stay humble, so that they never get so high to the level of others who are arrogant, aloft and detached from reality that they cannot relate to the common man.

And when you look at it that way, class isn’t divided into 3; poor, middle class and rich. It’s divided into two; those who have dignity as well as humility, and those who don’t.

So really, there really isn’t any need to try and act all sophisticated and learned, listening to music you don’t like, wearing cloths you can’t afford and talking like someone you don’t know. Always keep your dignity, always let go of your pride – and as far as I’m concerned, you’re a classy person.

Boy To Man

2011-01-04T21:14:00.004+08:00

Do you ever crave intimacy? Do you ever long to feel close to another person? I do. I think we all do. I think that at the heart of it, we all want to feel like we belong somewhere. Not just to a place, but to people. We want intimacy because it makes us feel loved and accepted.

Do you ever find yourself standing in front of a person you feel particularly close to, and the most natural thing that case to you is to reach out and touch them? To make that physical connection. I have always felt that physical touch is the final barrier to overcome when measuring your closeness to someone. We naturally touch the people we love, more than we do those we do not…. or at least that’s how it’s supposed to be.

Speaking of intimacy, I’ll tell you a funny thing; being hugged makes me happy. As child-like as that sounds, its true. It never ceases to bring a smile to me and warm my heart. I remember one time I was out with someone…. The mood was tense and the conversation somewhat icy. Just as we were about to part ways, I was struggling with what to say in order to make things right. I always try to make things right. But before I managed to say anything, that person just took a step up and gave me a hug.

Instantly, I could feel the nervous energy within me dissipate. The jumble of words still forming at my lips, dissolve away… and all I felt was a sense of warmth, acceptance and intimacy flowing through.

Sounds dramatic I know… but that’s how it was.

My affinity has always been towards people and relationships. It disturbs me greatly when relationships are strained. In most things I do and say, I am ever conscious about what it does to the status of my relationship. I guess you could say I’m quite a sensitive person.

So much so that I wonder if it has emasculated me in some sense – that by being who I am, I actually behave more like a woman than a man. It bothers me – the thought that I’m not as ‘manly’ as other men. The closest I ever get is being called a gentleman. I know they mean well…. And they mean it in the best sense of the word.. but ‘gentle’ has feminine connotations.. and if you really twisted the word around, the word gentleman can easily be called ‘sissy-man’.. Grrrr..

I think it’s a subconscious inferiority complex that has quietly been shadowing my existence for a long time. I’ve never liked the sound of my voice. It has never sounded as deep as I want it to be. I’ve always been very shy about my body… having never actually had the kind of hunky body a ‘real man’ should have. Instead, I’m stuck with a squick high pitch voice and a tummy the size of a small watermelon.

Many people I know tell me I’m that sort of silent, confident type. A person who’s self assured but never boastful. A person that’s proud of his principles, but never arrogant.

But I think beyond all the walls of ego and pride and conformity to social expectations, beyond the outward persona of what I project to others around me…. I’m really just an insecure little boy still not convinced that he’s a man yet

Movie Wrap Up 2010

2011-01-04T19:43:00.001+08:00

On the lighter note of life, I’d just like to highlight some of the the more memorable movies I managed to watch (or remember) from 2010. It's not a review.. just an opinion on each.

#1 Inception

I hated Leo DiCaprio early on because of Titanic. Too many crying women walking out of the cinema just convinced me that this man was pure evil. Then Blood Diamond came along, then Catch Me If You Can, then another and another.... till finally when I finished watching Inception, LeoDiCaprio went right to the top of my 'actors-who-actually-have-talent-in-hollywood' list.

Inception is so mind boggling, technical and out of this world, yet so well woven together, emotional and engaging that most people didn't even mind that they confused half the time. Never mind that trying to explain the movie is so difficult. The word AWESOME pretty much sums it up anyway. Great cinematic, good actors, well written script and storyline (albeit a bit complicated).... and just general points of awesomeness...

IN SHORT : The Most Awesome Movie Of the Decade... possibly. And that's a lot coming from me
IF YOU HAVENT SEEN IT : Go watch it or you'll never forgive yourself.

#2 Narnia: Voyage Of The Dawn Treader

I guess Narnia requires no further introduction. This third instalment has proven to be the best one yet. While outwardly it looks like a straight forward fantasy movie for kids and adolescence, the movie packs a lot more punch than it explicitly reveals. A lot of Church goers would find it hard not to nod their head or whisper to themselves because a lot of Christian values intricately are demonstrated throughout the entire movie. The author of the story is of course none other than the great writer CS Lewis... a giant in modern Christian writing.

The movie is very good, but not just because its particularly 'christian'-ny. It doesn't try to be at all... and everyone (christian or not) will be able to identify with it. Themes like love, trust, hope and faith are known to all men. Battles against greed, envy, corruption and the darkness within us is something we all face in life. It's both a simple and meaningful movie to watch.

IN SHORT : A good dose of 'good-over-evil' that will make you want to be a better man.
IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT : Go watch it... its good stuff for the soul.

#3 Tron

I suspect Piranha was probably the worst movie of 2010, but I stayed cleared of that movie so I remain blissfully ignorant. However, Tron probably isn't too far off either. It takes the cake as the WORST movie I've seen in 2010. To put it midly, the show is retarded. Everything about it is retarded. I paid extra tp watch it in 3D hoping to feast my eyes on some uber cool graphics and cinematics. I did get some, but for a movie that looks so good, it sure did a good job of coming out as a load of shiny shit.

The storyline never takes off, there are so many holes in the movie and I keep on wondering where the exciting part is supposed to come. The Digital World is never properly explained, the character Tron just drops in our of nowhere and the main characters themselve seem even more retarded. The movie may be about some people stuck in digital limbo, but I felt pretty stuck in limbo watch it too. It goes nowhere...and the only place it takes you, is out the door. I'm sorry if it sounds harsh. But there is a minimum depth / quality requirement all movies should meet.. especially one with as big a budget and hype as this one.

IN SHORT : Have I mentioned a load of shiny shit yet? And also retarded
IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT : Good for you!

Cheers everyone.