Lately...

Dear friend,

I am fine. Thank you for asking. I am sorry for not writing for so long. Things have kind of swept me by, and I've never really had the time to have these monologues with you as much as I used to anymore.

Life has been good. I am a married man now. The ring around my finger no longer feels strange. It fact, it feels strange when its not there. Women don't seem to be as eager to talk to me anymore. I'm pretty sure its because of the ring. But that's okay. Because every evening I return home to a beautiful woman that never fails to make me laugh or smile. I tell everyone she's my secret girlfriend, but actually she's my wife.

From the emails I've been receiving, my father is doing alright in the Philippines. Life there moves at a turtle pace he said. He said he misses my brother and I, and that he loves us. Distance does funny things to relationships. It amplifies what's in your heart. When my father was around, he never said he loved us, or missed us. But now that he is away, and precious emails are all that bind us together, words of love and affection seem to flow much easily. In the same way, when there is disillusionment and frustration, distance amplifies that effect. I wrote an emotional reply to him. I told my father I loved him too. I told him how much I used to admire him as a child, and how I still do now, as an adult. Father day never seemed a big deal in the past. Now that he's away, it is.

My brother isn't doing so well. He's obese and starting to develop health complications. Doctor said he has a degenerative spine disk. Something he got from falling down a few years back I think. But his weight is so much that it is putting too much strain on his spine. Doctor told him to loose weight fast before something bad happens. I've always fear that something will happen to him. When we were kids, my parents told us to always stick with one another because one day when they are gone, we would only have each other. And since he's my only brother, if I loose him, I will have no one in the future.

My thoughts have been on a certain friend. She had just gone through some near death experience and survived after 2 surgeries. She sent me a happy email telling me she was recovering. I was relieved. I've never been good at dealing with issues of death. It moves me deeply every time I think about it. Though death will always be a part of life, it doesn't make it any less of a bitter pill to swallow. And I guess the most bitter part of it is saying goodbye. One of the first thoughts that went through when I learn about my friend was "What if I never get to say goodbye?" The pain of death isn't in the dying. It is in the separation. The unique thing about this particular friendship is this; I've never met this friend. We are what you would in days long past called 'pen pals'. We write to each other, sharing our thoughts, dreams, hopes and fears. But we are perfect strangers. And in some funny way, there is a certain beauty in that.

Anyway, I will stop here dear friend. I do now want to risk writing too much and making this too much of a bore. There are many more things I would love to share, but let us leave it for another day. Take care, and God bless you.

With warmest regards
Me

Another Day to Live

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.

of Fatherhood

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

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

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

But honestly, it bothers me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Shrugs*

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

Money Matters

“Do you think I’ve lost my bearings?”

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It Is Well With My Soul

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

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

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

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

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

Indeed.

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

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

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

Cheekiness

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

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

My mother has known this about me even before I realized it myself. I was 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 playing tricks on your mother…”. I was dumbstruck. I had not realized that this was a repeat of my childhood behaviour. In my mind, it was a fresh and novel prank I was 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 think it wasn’t until a year or two into our relationship that I started exhibiting signs 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. 

Against The Wind

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

If I Die Young

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.

7 Days

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.

Relatives...

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

Bread and Lily

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....

When You Kids Teach You How to Grow

I heard a statement that really made an impression on me recently.

“To parents: what is the purpose of having children?”

“To help YOU grow up.”

At first, it sounds so radical and counter intuitive. After all, isn’t it the children’s job to grow up? The parents are the ones that are the ‘grown ups’ right?

Your kids don’t teach you how to grow up, YOU teach your kids how to grow up.

But on deeper thought, it makes perfect sense. The speaker went on to say that “as a parent, you’d do anything for you children… to make them happy.” In essence, it means that parents are completely selfless. And another word for selflessness is LOVE.

Here’s the problem; selflessness is counter-intuitive. Our self-preserving nature calls for us to look out for our own interest, not of others. The first 20 to 30 years of our lives consist of us trying to life and a living for ourselves. We are taught to be concerned about our health, our grades, our career, our car, our house, our this.. our that... We learn how to preserve ourselves, to do what is best for US.

And then suddenly you find yourself a partner, and you now have to be sensitive to their feelings, their needs, their wants, their desires. I think we can agree that loving another person is a learning process. In its truest sense, loving someone takes a lot of effort, humility and selflessness…. None of which comes easily without effort.

Having kids just brings this to a whole different level. Now, you’re expect to put your everything, all your money, all your time, all your effort, all your attention, all your energy into raising a (or several) cretins that scream, shout, cry, shit and vomit around the clock. Sounds scary? You bet’cha..

I’m not a parent (yet) but I do have parents.. and I know enough to know that parents do indeed practically live for their children’s wellbeing. We know they put us before them. We know they make countless sacrifices for us. All children secretly acknowledge this fact even if we do not always say it out loud…. and I imagine that many parents have come a long long way from being carefree young people like you and me to the dependable, ever present stalwarts of our lives today.

How did they become who they are today? How did they become such mature, seasoned and steady characters? How did they ‘grow up’?

They had kids!

Disclaimer : This is by no means trying to encourage people eager to 'grow up' to start having kids. Neither should you be askig immature people to start having kids a'rite.. 

Wedding Thoughts

Numerous people have asked how I’m feeling leading up to the wedding.

I was initially feeling pretty cool about it. After all, this was something my fiancee and I have been talking about and planning for over a year now. To think and talk about it again wasn’t exactly something that would send butterflies up our stomachs. In fact, we were somewhat amused at the reaction of the people around us when we made the announcement. We have been together a long long time, and I think most people thought it was just a matter of time before we tied the knot.


I don’t know if every marrying couple goes through this, but we were genuinely surprised not so much on how people react to it (which was positive) but rather the intensity to it. People would say to us “Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re getting married! I’m so excited!”…….. or something along those lines.


I suspect maybe it’s because given our age, we are one of the earlier ones amongst our friends to actually be taking this next step. Hence the whole feeling of novelty is there… that one of their personal friends, and not some uncle or auntie’s son is getting married.


Some people in the older generation, knowing the hardship that my fiancee and I have individually gone through in life, seem to feel happy (and relief almost) that we seem to be emerging and moving on from the ghost of our past.


But in the end, what it really feels like personally for us is the feeling that actually, our friends and family love us, and are genuinely and sincerely happy for us and our union. People have come out to openly express how happy they are for us, how they feel so excited for us, and how they are there to help if we need any at all…


The excitement and enthusiasm rubs off, and suddenly, we feel excited too. But the excitement isn’t so much about the act of getting married, but the fact that a lot of different people, from different areas of our lives will be gathering together for a night just for our sakes. Relatives and friends from near and a far will all be there, some as far as the US….and when I think about it, it’s hard not to be moved. You see, in trying to finalize our guest list, we had to pick and choose who and how much they mean to us. But in making the commitment to come, even if it mean a 20 hour flight or 6 hour drive, we are shown how much we mean to them in return. And those who sincerely cannot be there go through great lengths to express their regret. Suddenly, there is this physical manifestation of the level of love people have for us.


And I guess that’s the part that gets me excited the most. That there are people who mean something to us, and that we mean something to them too...


So am I ready to get married?


Well... as ready as I'll ever be I guess....

Let me just check if I've been invited. :-P


Cheers.

Counting My Blessings...

Dear God

Thank you for:

1. Family.I realized thatt as small as my family is, we love each other and we take care of each other. And I realize that family isn't just whose related to you by blood... it's also those who love you no matter what. 
2. Genuine & sincere friends. Its good to know there are people out there who love you and care for you not because they have to, but because they want to. 
3. Giving me a conscience. Although I'm eternally struggling with my conscience, I'm grateful nonetheless for it. Because it helps me know what is right and what is wrong; when to back down and when to make a stand; when to forgive and when not to forget. It has been my greatest guide so far in life. 
4. Faith. It's a weak and undeveloped one. But I believe its there never the less. Its the thing that keeps me believe that whatever life throws my way, it is not without rhyme or reason. Is is the thing that makes me believe that when God puts an obstacle before you, He doesn't do it without giving you a means to overcome it. It's the thing that makes me belife that eventhough life is hard sometimes. we need not be disheartened. It is such that the challenges you face will always be just a bit beyond your current reach, but always within your eventual height... That way, you are always growing.
5. Ten million dollars. A sense of humour. :-) Thank you for giving me the joy of laughter.

When Boys Grow Up

Warning: This is an emotional, but nevertheless honest little rant... so if you would just bare with me for a few paragraphs... 

When I was growing up I used to look up to my father. He was this great man that always knew the answer to everything. To me he was knowledgeable, intelligent, wise and charming… and all I wanted to do was be like him when I was older. I always looked to him for an answer or solution when life threw bricks at us. And I had my brother. He has just two years older than me, but he was nothing like me. I was this shy, timid little boy and he was this adventurous, brave and fearless big brother who would always lead the way, be it into a big monsoon drain, abandoned swamp or the girls toilet. I was always his sidekick, following him loyally… from the back of course.

That was me. I was never ever the guy in front. I was always the guy in the background. The one looking up to others, following others. I’m good at playing the supporting actor in life. I’m good at being the backup guy. It’s the role I’ve been playing all my life.

But now I’m scared. Because I realize I can’t play that role anymore. I’m not allowed to. There is no one to follow anymore. There is no one to hide behind. I’m in front now… I’m holding the baton now… and it’s up to me to make things happens. It’s up to me to make life work.

As I reach the final month before my wedding, I realize that I really have no one to talk to about all these anxieties and fears that have creep up on me. I’m about to start a family. I’m about to be a husband.. and in the future a father… and the head of a new household… and I don’t know who I can turn to for guidance. My own father has failed not once, not twice, but three times in marriage. Somehow, I cannot see myself going to him for advice on how to make things work. My brother is only going into his second year of a steady relationship. In some sense, I feel like I have surpassed them in a way. I know I can count on their love… but not necessarily their advice.

As I go into my third year of being an employee, I realize that I have come a long long way since I started. I have learned so much, and have expanded my horizons far beyond what I could have imagined possible as a student. I find myself suddenly being the top pick of my boss to help him run his company. He puts enormous amounts of work, pressure and trust on me, fully expecting me to keep up and perform. It’s not without its rewards. He gives me a good salary, and tells me in no unclear terms that he’s grooming me for the top. It’s mine to take…….. if I can perform. But I see that in grooming me, he’s trying to make me into him. I can’t do that. I can’t be him. I neither have it in me, nor do I want to be him. I will learn what I can, but I must be who I am, not what he wants me to be.

And again, I find myself having no one to ask for guidance and advice when it comes to my career and work. I try talking to my brother and father about things… but then I realize that many of the things I talk about are new to them. They don’t know the kind of industry I’m in, nor the kind of world I’ve gotten myself suck into. My fiancée supports me and encourages me in all I do. She acts as a soothing balm to the hard, edgy, high pressure environment I face at work. But she cannot advice me. One dear friend tells me I should just quit this job and migrate to Australia… or find some job here that’s less taxing…. so that I can be closer to God. But she doesn’t understand…I feel enormous pressure to provide for my family. I may be young, but there are 5 heads dependant on me… and that’s just now. What happens when the fiancée starts to want to have children?

God knows I’m trying…. I’m trying so hard. I spend all my weekdays and weeknights slugging it out at work… committing myself a 110% to what is required of me. Then I go home and commit 110% to my family… trying to do as much as I can.. taking care of bills, giving them money, taking care of their needs, listening to their complaints, solving their problems. And on weekends, I commit 110% to others… people who aren’t family… but still people I consider dear to me… and I sit and listen for hours to them talk about their lives and their problems and their heartaches.. I clear out my schedule with no questions asked, I travel tens of miles, I squeeze in dinners or suppers or breakfast… as my commitment to the friendship…Some people evolve their lives around making money or what not. But this is my life.. my life is about me being of service to others, as an act of love..and praying and hoping to God that it will pay off.....and even still…….I don't know how I'm fairing. No one ever tells me how good a husband or son or son-in-law or brother or friend or enemy I have been. I don't know where I stand in peoples books. 

I’m old fashion. I believe a man’s worth is in his ability to be a good provider to his family, a faithful and caring husband, loving but stern father and a genuine and sincere friend…. If I can achieve all this things in my life… then I will have considered myself a success in life.

But since there really isn’t anymore in my life I can turn to anymore, all I have are my wits to guide me. All I have is this mind thinks so much it overheats. All I have is this heart that swings between extremes so much it feels like it’s on the verge of tearing apart. And I’m terrified that that is not enough.