i think..

departure

2011-02-07T11:37:00.007+08:00

People say the cup half empty and half full, because they think you can choose perspectives. You might be a pessimist but you can choose to be an optimist. Start seeing the up, and you wont pay much notice to the downs. But what happens when the very reason I feel up is why i feel down? What happens when you pour a cup half empty into a cup half full? You do not get a full cup. You get a sense of what i am feeling.

I can think of the great times that we have had. It's Universal Studios and Karaoke, Steak and Durians, Friends and family, Chinese new year and Christmas. Its spending almost everyday with each other infused with a certain sense of fun and purpose. But I know full well that i am using the past tense in its description. "It's" is only short form for "it was". The cup half full into the cup half empty.

Trying to console myself with the heaps of work to be due soon only reinforces that reality that require such consolation in the very first place. And there is much to do, there are essays, take home papers and research. But there is that huge gap within me that is growing by the minute.

On the other hand, the cup half empty can sometimes be poured into the cup half full. I can regret about the times I have fallen short of my promises, realizing that those moments were times of grace for the dialogue it conjured

I can tell you that i am blissfully happy, and yet incredibly sad.

It is a battleground for emotions with an overarching resignation. Tomorrow is that day that we will have to part for some time. It is tearing me up. Maybe when you pour a cup half full into a cup half empty, you get a broken cup. I do not know.

That is the thing about tomorrows. Most dont even pay attention to it. But before you know it, there wont be any tomorrows. Before you know it, you will be wondering how many tomorrows are left. I feel paralyzed by tomorrow. It is like watching an event unfolding, from a distance. Unable to change the direction of fate and simultaneously resisting its happening. Resisting its happening, even though the cause and consequence of that happening are really, really beautiful things.

the glorious realities of being with the perfect girlfriend

2011-02-02T02:06:00.010+08:00

Tip toeing up the stairs to fetch her over for reunion dinner, i noticed the dark stairwell which meant her door was closed, shutting out any lights from her window. I was surreptitious and in half excitement. I have not seen her all day. Knocking on the door, I heard two replies- first, curt and second, irritated. And i opened. She lay on the sofa set, a quarter sedated, half weak from a stubborn flu and the last quarter i could not discern- was that a look of pleasant surprise? I know i hoped it was.

Our days in Singapore had been both assaulted and blessed by the manifold activities we've embarked on. A talk that highlighted the great transition from conception to execution, or from ideal to actual, or from dreams to reality took up both time, energy and emotions in preparation. This happened by grace, as all things do. But grace in particular gave me a girl who walked with me with her mind and her heart- that twofold dimension that encompassed Giving's full meaning. And when all is said and done, she said she was proud of me.

From a boyfriend's vantage point, there is nothing really more triumphant than that. Call it what you want: mythological heroism, masculinity or purely egoistic. But its biological and in any man with a decent amount of self-respect. A channel 8 drama recently showed the carthartic dialogue between the estranged wife and the philandering but contrite husband. She told him to come back to her when he found his own "self-respect". Now, disagree with the drama and the acting if you will, the message still holds: a person incapable of loving himself is simply incapable of being loved by another. A person without a degree of self-respect cannot invoke the respect of another. And paradoxically, it is in such moments that all the actions to demand self-respect just becomes a negation of it. On that same note, a person who already has it, experiences it all the more. The rich gets richer.

Doses of irritation highlighted the equally true converse: that the poor gets poorer. I lost my spirit of gratitude. And for about a week straight, that loss generated bite-sized doses of irritation that instead of chewing it silently, i had to vomit out unglamorously. She observed that I became more irritable. The general theory suggests that is what happen when a couple is so close: friction becomes a part of the lifestyle. But i rather be close and frictional than distanced and polite. Our relationship if anything is marked by distance. She agrees. That is why she fights. And from anyone's vantage point, you know that you are loved when you are fought for.

The reunion dinner was an array of seafood, vegetables, soup and meats. Chats were merry and shared intimacy by among many other things, the first-ever reunion prayer that my dad opened dinner with, brought warmth to a rather cool evening. Drama ensued soon after dinner. She and I walked to buy ice cream. A tiny dose of irritation then prompted a dialogue which morphed into the emotional equivalent of a quarrel. About two hours later, with the sharing extending itself all the way into the car ride home, we made a decision to love our remaining days in Singapore more together. That's my perfect girlfriend, for you.

Dating a psychologist

2011-01-04T23:23:00.007+08:00

Contrary to popular belief, psychologist-girlfriends really dont play mind games. In fact they really dont play any games at all. Games presupposes a chance of winning. The position of always losing, suffering the consequences of that loss, and not even have so much as a modicum of expectation of winning is affectionately called- "boyfriend". I love losing i guess. It keeps me humble.

And this is absolutely necessary for dating a psychologist. I mean, you can put up all these macho fronts- to beef up that masculinity- and it all comes down with a sound like "pfft" or "pooooffft". It is not even a word. If it was one, you could hide behind the fact that at least there is some rationale behind your injured feelings. So either learn humility before you get together, or you learn it their way. I suggest the former.

And they really have you by the... Sorry lets rephrase. They really have you under their thumbs. When i make either suggestions, propositions or questions that are cheeky and hilarious, she would give this absolutely genuine smile. She would look postured to take up the suggestion and even playfully tag along with "you would like that wouldnt you?" So the anticipation and excitement will build. Just like the stack of cards, placed precariously, one at a time- with the hope that it will finally look like a pyramid.

And just when you thought you have the final card up the pyramid. She'd suddenly revert to the serious. This time you'd see that she was really just being playful and had meant something absolutely opposite. She wouldnt even tell you the rationale. She would just crumple your stack of cards with a dismissively singular word. "No". I cant describe the feeling. "Disappointment" just doesnt sound intense enough..

But just when you would think that such guys could very well be the most miserable persons on earth? Absolutely not. They are the happiest.

For one, psychologist girlfriends are the bomb squad of any potentially awkward and hostile situation. And if you see yourselves in such situations, such a talent is a formidable asset. I think its rude and awkward to have dinner before the host and his family sits at the dining table. I think its worse that i am eating the birthday cake even before the birthday boy. She coolly managed to let me do both of that without either the birthday boy getting angry or the host feeling offended- both of them being the same person in this case. Eloquence mixed with psychology, with a tiny dose of wit, is an excellent concoction for getting away scot-free for almost anything. It would explain the discounts she gets at haagen dazs, the approved proposals at university and her impeccable score at interviews.

More importantly, her charms works best when the hostility is between me and her. When an argument happens, the girlfriend switches into therapy mode. She begins asking, empathizing, caring. Occasionally she gives a knowing smile and all negativity that were once present suddenly turn into something euphoric. Like dark chocolate- bitter at the start and sweet aftertaste. Like Durian XO- bitter to the point its delicious. And believe it or not, just when you thought your insanity would stop, the therapy just works the other way. You just become crazier about her. So the relationship just continues growing. Pretty much a win-win.

Dating a psychologist really isnt so bad. Just a little crazy.

Romance and the Sciences

2010-12-21T05:07:00.002+08:00

Science robs the fun by attempting to predict everything in romance. Maybe that is why my dad is hardly a romantic: he is an aeronautical engineer. A pure physics man. Almost two decades into the marriage, he bought my mum his first bouquet of flowers only after a colleague’s incessant cajoling. Now, one generation learns from another. I took triple Science in junior college- and was the bane of my physics tutor’s existence. I recall labeling a downwards arrow “upthrust” to the absolute amusement of my classmates. Along this line of logic, I must say that I evolved to be more a romantic.

Romance and physics just do not go well together. One is hardly predictable, another demands it. The laws of physics say that every action will always have an equal and opposite reaction. This means that if one bouquet of flowers makes you smile today, for each and every time I give you that bouquet, you should be smiling.

But anyone familiar with the laws of romance would say that is nonsense. I realized this on the 1^st of December when she was not just smiling. She was…silent! For reasons that cannot be elaborated for fear of pain or death, you would simply be incapable of associating her with silence, if you really knew her. But that day, when she opened the door, she was! Smiles curving up her lips as reality slowly sunk in, she really was. Hardly predictable. Hardly physics.

It could not have been physics. Facing the full force of that reality- that we were finally seeing each other after a two month absence- the only thing we did was to stop and stare, in absolute contradiction to the law that when force meets matter, movement quickens. The laws of physics- they just do not work.

But maybe it’s biochemistry. Relationships act as if they involve some knowledge of chemistry. Somehow, kids know exactly the temperature by which their parents’ blood boil. Somehow, the sheer thought of surprising her, made my runs go a little bit faster. Just like steroids. And just recalling the moments in which we burst out laughing unglamorously in the middle of a road junction, amidst a bewildered crowd, brings a wave of euphoria as inexplicable as the feeling you get after an intensive workout. Just like chocolates at Max Brenner’s.

Speaking of highs, one of the memorabilia from Melbourne is this bottle of Moscato- a wine that was actually made sweeter by the thought of not having to take an earlier flight out of Melbourne, to don on the ridiculous green and black to fight enemies so powerful they can fly and land on you with catastrophic itches. It could be all chemistry. Even the itches.

At the end of the day- a fresh supply of “lau sa pao”s greeting me every morning, with daily doses of episodes from Big Bang Theory, a trip down to the beach and topping it off with a voice that ranks among the greatness of Celine Dion, Delta Goodrem and the like one karaoke evening- I really was the one taken in for a treat. Neither of which predicted, all of which thoroughly loved and enjoyed. But what I loved most is the mornings: it is the promise of a day spent with a loved one.

Science leaves too little room for something different and is incredibly pessimistic, neither of which Romance approves of. Looking back, there could very well have been significance to that wrongly labeled arrow. It is a refusal to be subject to that sad notion that everything that goes up must come down, and a rejection of that grim reality that one way or another, gravity brings us all back to earth. I went to Melbourne to defy such conventions. I went to surprise.

Long Distance

2010-11-10T16:17:00.010+08:00

Everything is in reverse. What for others is a rule, is for me the exception. Take a poll- couples would say they watch movies, go for meals, go to a park, walk etc once in two weeks on an average. I get to do that, and i think it is fair to say that i will get to do that, maybe about 4 times at most, in a year. So movies, meals, the hand holding,the cuddling, that is the exception.

On the other hand, what for others might be an exception, is for me a rule. Let us go back to that poll. Ask further and then perhaps as an afterthought, they will say "yeah we talk too". As if that is a given. It is not. The more you see, the less you say- pretty much the underlying theme of any sappy korean drama worth my aunty's viewing. But then again, that could very well be every single korean drama that is currently playing. The general storyline: Good wife, great husband but a marriage that cant hold the weight of misunderstandings. A ton of misunderstandings building up from things that could have been said.

So, I will tell you the one key essence of our relationship, we talk. We talk, and talk and talk. There is nothing else to do but talk, there is nothing else we want to do but talk. About feelings, about setbacks, about victories. About everything and nothing. About the future and the past. About the spiritual and the secular. About theology, and the body. We just talk.

Because going back to the Korean Dramas, there is something seriously wrong with that, dont you think? what could have been? Living life in the retrospective, in the imaginery "could have, should have, if only".Let me tell you something you already know. We only have the present to seize. What good is hindsight when you are only walking forward? What good is nostalgically reminiscing of how you are so close and yet so far apart? We are far apart, but together. There is distanced closeness. And if that is not romance, i really do not know what is.

And let me tell you something about romance: it is a hallmark of a thriving relationship. The general theory is that a relationship must go beyond feelings. First, lets not be simplistic- the theory does not mean that a relationship must get to a point where there are no feelings for the other. That is a non-relationship. It is indifference couched in many words. But if it means commitment and perseverance, i am all for it. Hey, it is a long-distance relationship, what else could it be if not commitment and perseverance?

Secondly, they say feelings come and feelings go- that is the basis of this theory. But that is precisely the point! If feelings can go, then surely they can come. Cultivate the atmosphere, it will. Now, when they always ask me "are there always so many things to talk about? so many lovely things to say?" Here is my simple reply.

It depends. Is your purpose to give a speech or to know a person? One is exhaustive another's not. One looks at how interesting you are, another looks at how interested you are. And i dont intend to be all deep and abstract here, but believe me, there is a huge difference between knowing about a person and knowing a person. One is asking for a resume, another is asking for a relationship. I asked for a relationship.

Of course there is a trade off in a long distance relationship. And the point of sharing with the elite few who read my blog, and the smaller number who are in relationships is this. Do consider a tiny attitude of gratitude, because what you experience everyday, I am going to only get a glimpse of, in about a month's time. So what i wouldnt give for what you currently take for granted. But also consider what you have traded off. There will always be, and i am not going to nag about that.

sweet

2010-09-11T08:39:00.006+08:00

This is by far the most shocking message you are ever going to read: contrary to popular belief, i am human. I do make mistakes. Okay, that is as far as the confession is going to go.

Actually, in my state of humble contrition, I probably have to carry on.

So what I did was to go against her expressed wishes not to call her at those hours of the night and interrupt her sleep. See, I went for a run only to see her ten missed calls and her final message that she was dead exhausted. But I thought perhaps there is that possibility she was still awake. So I took a gamble, and called.

And on the pissed off scale of 1 to 10, 1 being your average PMS "I'm not in the right mood" and 10 being... well, i rather not think about 10, she gave me a whopping 7. She didnt even bother verbalizing it. She merely gave me the finger- i mean, she merely indicated the number using her fingers- what were you thinking?

Honestly, I actually expected a 10. Desecrating the sacred altar of her subconscious with her house ring-tone is one of those cardinal sins that no man has ever gotten away unscathed. When she picked up the phone, it was as though the kitchen knife was on her other hand. In fact, I thought it was a 10 because that would be the volume of her voice over the phone. And that was when I called her.

When she called me, after being unable to fall back to sleep, I thought it was an 11.

So thank God for the rest she managed to finally get. Otherwise, she'd probably drown me in that bowl of milk together with the cornflakes she had this morning. Thank God for something else. I meant, someone else.

For a girlfriend who is incredibly sweet. That when she picked up the phone, it began with "dear". That she still wanted me to pray- our usual night prayers- albeit in a minute. That she wanted me to tell her the things that I'd usually romance her before sleeping. That when she called me back, it again began with "dear". Its like one of those scoldings that one parent gives the other and the other just sheepishly smiles. A hundred degrees celsius of anger and not a tinge of rejection.

That when I did feel like a dumbass for just about the entire night, the first thing she told me when she woke up was "dont beat yourself up". For a girlfriend who is incredibly sweet. Of course, I am not saying I need such moments to reveal this. But hey, who's to say that we can prevent them anyway right? when it comes, it comes. But of course, that is not what I am going to tell her :p

The Little Things

2010-08-18T14:52:00.004+08:00

After the movie, Zombieland, I do wonder how many of the bloggers have titled their entries as such. And if in the movie it was called "the simple things" and you are taking an issue with that- you are just being pedantic.

Speaking of which, it is absolutely interesting to note the amount of laughter that can be drawn out of simple words. Take "pedantic" for example. The first time I heard it was in a legal philosophy class, used by a professor on a student- obviously in an admonishment, of some sort. Then, Jean used it. And it was never the same again. Take another word, "score". The first time she used it, I laughed for about two minutes flat. I will never be the same with that word again. But to give her all that credit would be to swell what is already swollen, so we shall try to steer clear of that.

Before I talk about her, which would obviously be the highlight of today's entry, I'll make an announcement about the blog. This blog will remain a place for my own weird intellectual musings and feelings. But the more important notes will be left for facebook and emails, where I beg people to read by tagging them or having my initials pop up in their sacred mailboxes- hopefully not as a spam. This place, will be more like a journal entry of some sort. But it is not set in stone, I just might revert back to the blog to write on serious issues. Quoting Jean, "we see how".

And yes, without embarrassment or hesitation, this girl has become the quoted authority on quite a few matters- it is not just relationships, it is on God and religion, parents and families, psychology, acting...the list goes on. I am not too sure whether she would be peeved by the term "girl" - after all, the person who stares back in the mirror is some princess goddess from the land of the indescribably beautiful- but in Pontius Pilate's words, "what i have written, i have written". So "deal with it"- a reply I learnt from, guess who?

Why the "little" things? Well, because both of us are really, really, tired of "big", for starters- an ostensibly private joke. But seriously, you'd be surprised at the way the little things can really make a difference. Peanut butter on toasted bread can taste a tad better just by flipping in and laying the side with the spread on your tongue. On another note, try closing your eyes when you eat- trust me, it is a whole lot different. The little things.

Even more seriously, the little things can mean a lot. Take a phone call for example- who would have possibly thought that the essence of a commitment would come down to a phone call? Who would have known that the most unimportant decision of administrating a talk at church one day, could very well be the most significant one of a person's life? God is in the little things, I tell you.

If you still dont know anything about her, then this would be my fault. What does she do? She loves life and I mean all the bits and pieces about it. She just told me she actually discovered that she loves writing a report- either I am right, or she is just weird. Or maybe I am the weird one.

So you know what, maybe I am wrong and all these things are not that important. I am perhaps just blowing them out of proportion. Maybe whatever I said isnt funny either and I am crazy. But no worries, I am seeing a psychologist =)

Blogging about blogging

2010-07-17T15:15:00.005+08:00

I've set myself a question to answer. It is a sequel to the post "the moral duty to read", written about a year back. As it seems as though one cannot write about reading, without touching on the topic of writing, I will write about writing- and constrain it to the domain of blogging. The question i therefore ask is, "why blog?"

Being absolutely uninterested in the colloquial arguments for blogging- which in Singlish would range from "to update people what is going on lah!" to "got something to write then just write lor!" to "because emo what...", I'll instead explore a deeper conception and justification of blogging that fits a new world of information technology where the world is smaller but people are further apart.

My starting point is neither novel nor controversial. Blogging is a unilateral means to communicate. As unfascinating as this sounds, it is actually a crucial one. By admitting that blogging is a one way mode of communication, the rational mind would then be directed to two essential considerations: first, what the subject for communication is; secondly; why was such a means of communication chosen? The two are connected. Just like how I choose sms over emailing a note that I am going to be late for lunch, similarly, I choose blogworthy subjects to blog about. Even though such a choice is inherently subjective, the point i am making is undeniable: the message defines the means. Building on this, just as there is no sender without a receiver, no talk without an audience, so there is no blog without its readers. The target readers in the mind of each blogger, when he sets out his writings, influences the message. Admittedly, such considerations are not made conscious all the time. But they are there.

Now, it is precisely with a reasonable conception of blogging that we manage to find our justifications. And it at these three plain levels that we find good reasons for blogging. First, the message that cannot be said anywhere else; second, the means of communication that is unique to only blogging and third, the blogosphere is an audience like no other. The three might overlap but are still distinctive features of blogging. Ultimately, the gift of blogging lies in anonymity.

The message being shared is one that cannot be told anywhere else. Should it be spoken over the phone, it will fall short of being repeated with the same emotions or conviction to the next listener. More importantly, in bilateral modes of communication, the identity and character of individuals change the shape by which a message is being sent. A blogger is free from this as in a blog, it is only the group identity that weighs in on the blogger's mind. Not the individual's identity. And the readers' feelings can be ignored as long the blog is not written to a specific person. Such freedom is what a blogger enjoys.

The next freedom is in the means of communication. Ignoring the colloquial justifications- the freedom to put in photos, write in haphazard English, etc- we'll move to the real freedom of showing oneself. In a blog, where we've chosen, in absolute blank space, to write a specific post, the reader gets to ask, "why did he choose to write this at this point in time?" The reader gets to inquire into the relevance between his sharing and his life. The reader asks who the man behind the message is. And they do that whilst being absolutely anonymous. I do not know who will chance across this blog, and whether my previous readers will be reading this blog. But I know one thing is certain, I leave a little bit of myself behind for someone to find out more. Such freedom: you might find in a phone call to a person, or an email to a group of friends, but not to the same extent.

Finally, the blogosphere audience is like none other: they range from the obsessive to the indifferent; from the intellectual to the restless housewife; from the sibling to the lover. Even though their motivations differ, all are being told the same unadulterated story. In a sense, everyone reads the same message. And like separate and competing denominations: each has his own understanding. Another way in which this audience is different is that it is purely a matter of speculation who the audience actually is. True, many blogs grant access to only persons who are close- but even in such a category of persons the blogger isnt sure who is in fact reading! This means that the audience is, to a certain degree, an imaginery one. Apart from the sheer benefit of engaging the imaginative faculties, our main justification to write a blog is that our audience wants it. It is simple economics: demand and supply. And if you call it denial then it is a fast growing one: our denial is that our imaginery audience wants to hear from us! And if we are to stop writing, it must be for our them to tell us so.

In a nutshell, blog because you have no other way to say it; blog because you want to be free whilst saying it; and blog because you know people want to hear it. It is a form of self-gratification, no doubt.

chatting about mystery

2010-07-08T22:49:00.007+08:00

I do not fully know you. Yet, i dare speak to you about the mystery that you are. I do so, by understanding the meaning of mystery. And where all resources fails, dictionary.com doesnt. It says in dictionary.com that mystery is "any truth that is unknowable except by divine revelation". And there you have it, the connection between the known and the unknown: the divine.

And doesnt one encounter the divine through that proverbial leap of faith? It is therefore with a lens of faith that I can speak you about, in a prophetic manner. No doubt, prophecy presupposes a tight relationship with the divine that i do not boast of. What i have, in comparison, is a faith the size of a mustard seed. And such faith, i rather use to speak to you, than to move mountains. So this is what i will say:

Find within yourself the voice that tells you where you are supposed to be. It is life-giving and in it you will find peace. That same voice will tell you whether you should leave or stay. Dare to listen to it. Dare to be yourself. There is no greater gift than who you are. If you cannot be yourself, there is no greatest gift to give. And how sad that would be, since we have this one life to live, and therefore this one gift to give. Do not be afraid to be yourself. You are more than the looks that people give you, and the comments that people make. There is a light within you- you need only look into a mirror to see it. No one lights a lamp only to put it under the bed, so let them see that. Believe me, human beings are looking for human beings to relate to. Not perfect androids from science fiction thrillers. Our authenticity lies in our readiness to be and look human. And isnt authenticity the foundation by which love- and i am talking true love here, the marriage kind- happens?

The mystery of you is that there is so much more. And yes, i am talking about "more" in a philosophical sense. Mystery as such doesnt stifle questions, if anything it invites them. As I invite the people around me, and in particular a person, to unravel the mystery that I am- and the mystery behind what we share- i invite you to do the same for yours. It is like a child counting down the end of Christmas eve; it is like the groom unveiling his bride at the altar. And in the line of such matrimonial thoughts, allow yourself to be enveloped by the mystery that brings two individuals- by fate, coincidence or providence- to say the two words that seal their lives irreversibly. Such is a place we are definitely all called to be in.

I've spoken to you about you. About love. And about mystery. And the mystery behind you, is that you are created by and made for love. You can say that such words are too romantic for a male blog- but tell me that thats not true?

Penang

2010-06-30T16:19:00.006+08:00

The phone beeped the arrival of a message. This time, it is from my sister, “Damn good stuff, wanna come, dad will fetch”. The two brothers in the hotel room- one reading, another typing this post- thought for a second and replied “nope don’t want if have nice stuff buy for us” and ended the note with a smiley. That was the tone for the entire trip. Aloof, lazy and sleepy- an attitude befitting for a place that has neither heartbeat nor clean air.

Penang has all the trappings of the simple life. A road side stall could be owned by generations; they are known more for its food than scenery; the roads are filled with cars coated with grime and dirt and the houses are single storied fenceless shelters with no air-conditioning and internet. This is the simple life. As an inside joke, if this is penang, i do so wonder what kuching would have been like.

My dad said the people here are happy. But the visitors aren’t: we view our trip here as a moral obligation and meaning of going for a family trip; yet all of us, in one way or another, wish we could have gone somewhere else- Europe perhaps. So we employ our coping mechanisms. My sister finds her solace in the food and shopping; my brother brings his book and enjoys taking photos. Me, I just look forward to messages and phone calls. And of course, Melbourne. I am the biggest escapist here. So be it.

Yet even the biggest escapist can’t dodge life’s inevitable junctures: relationships, exams, taxes…and death. We were here for another purpose: to visit the old folks. There were three of them.

Dai-kum-po wept when she saw us. She said she always wondered whether she would have been fortunate enough to see us for one last time. We saw her again, and when we were leaving, again that we heard that same sigh of resignation: she was not sure whether she would be around to cook for us congee the next time we came. Her right eyelid dropped over: she was blind in that eye. Yee-Kum-po could barely speak. Neither could she recognize us. Strapped to the wheel chair, after being forcibly brought out of the Old Folks Home as a result of unaffordable lodging fees, I could never tell whether she was happy to have us over with that indiscernible Hokkien. The healthiest of the three elders was Po-Po. We know her simply as Aunty Shirley’s Grandmother. She joked, gossiped, laughed.

These three lives in Penang had perhaps at one point in time or another crossed paths: one day in some market, whilst bargaining for some vegetables or arguing over some parking lot. Three lenses of history across about eighty years. How did their history bring them to their present? Did they have dreams of their own and did they have a say in where they are placed? Given a chance, would they have chosen something else? I would never know. I struggle at the ambiguity of my own ageing seeing them. But maybe, the question at the end of the day would be “were you happy?”

The people here are happy, my dad said. He was saying two things, really: that they experience happiness, and if they don’t, we wish them that.

the stupidity and necessity of assumptions

2010-06-18T12:40:00.007+08:00

I often have about only ten minutes to grab your attention in what i write. After that, I will receive a euphemism for it being boring. Something like what my brother usually says, "its ok". He has a point. Ask me to read someone's verbose dreams of life, I'd probably end up dreaming. Yes, i can be honest about that. In fact, that is exactly my first point. Fool everyone else- it is a dog-eat-dog world out there- except the person in the mirror.

And to be honest, I have a problem with assumptions. It is by no coincidence that this word begins with an "ass". It makes you arrogant and stupid. Arrogant because it is as though you are above life, and life just has no more surprises in store for you. Worse still, you might assume so much, that you worry. Now, lets dispel the illusion once and for all- worrying is no solution to any problem. Rather, it compounds the problem from the head to the heart. From white hair to what they call atherosclerosis- hardening of the blood vessels- why do that to yourself? You will age naturally and inevitably. There is no need to rush it.

Stupid precisely because life does in fact has such surprises. The years leading up to the past 4 months have told me that life is just a little too unpredictable to have one make the grossly unforgiveable mistake of assuming that there could not be anything more in store for me. You would be stupid not to learn from that mistake. And learn, by assuming more.

We should assume more. Assume that what you dream, you will attain. Assume that life's burdens are not beyond what you can shoulder. Assume that love is real. Assume that you are good and beautiful. Because these assumptions are self-fulfilling prophecies. It is in assuming that we will attain what we dream that we find motivation to achieve. Burdens are borne on the backs of those who assume that life is merciful. Love is made real, when we work on the assumption that it is. So assume more.

In 10 minutes, I might have shared with you about a tiny area of your life. If i havent, then i am glad that in 10 minutes, i at least would have shared with you a tiny area of mine. And this is one of my assumptions: that happily ever after isnt so much a when than a who. So, to the duet of Bryan Adams and Barbra Streisand will she walk in, about 3 years from now- it might be in a different country, with classier chandeliers, larger ang paos- who knows. But it will be the same handshakes offered and the same congratulatory looks given i saw yesterday. That, i happily assume.

the right one

2010-06-13T19:44:00.007+08:00

"In search of the one", an article published in the Catholic News, Jean discussed what relationships are and when a person's deemed ready to enter into a relationship. That article has reached and inspired many. The boyfriend intends, albeit in a slightly cosier setting of the small audience in this humble blog, to build up on this. The question i therefore ask, is " is this the right one?"

Considering the infancy of my relationship, i do not claim to call my answer exhaustive or absolute. My purpose, rather, is to throw up thought on relationships by sharing what i think are the essentials. The second agenda i no longer intend to keep hidden, is that I intend these writings to act as a reminder for me as well. The 3 areas i seek to highlight are as such: sharing similar principles, inspiring each other to the good, and being ready to receive.

Find someone who shares the same principles. Examples of principles Jean and I share are as such: loving means choosing the good for the other; family always first; commitment means discipline; no decision without dialogue; leave no argument unattended. etc. These are principles that you and your partner might already incorporate. I applaud and affirm you on them. Sharing similar principles are important for two reasons: first, it gives direction and shape to a relationship and secondly, it acts as a lubricant to the areas of a relationship that causes friction. The direction a relationship finds where both share the principle of choosing the good for another, just for example, is an environment where we feel protected and are therefore free to be ourselves. On the next point, friction although unpleasant, is necessary. Whats essential is that a couple moves deeper into the relationship through it rather than apart. Having same principles keep the right perspective in plain view. As such, whilst my parents can quarrel about which house is the most suitable, what perhaps resolved the dispute lay in the principle "family before self". Find someone who shares with you similar principles. And if you are already in a relationship- even better. Dialogue to search for the similar principles that not only do you two agree with, but are convicted by.

Find someone who inspires you to be good. One of the few things i recall from a vocation retreat years back is that a decision is judged by the fruits. Are these fruits of faith, hope and charity? Father Anthony Ho asked, "are these fruits good, are they long lasting, and do they glorify God?" Similarly, a partner (whether potential or existing) is assessed by the person that he or she allows us to become (or at least see ourselves become).

Such a person challenges us to see our own blessedness. This is because we find the confidence to love when we see ourselves as loved, first. In my reflections of what it means to be a gift to Jean, i realize that this is impossible unless I see within myself the good that i can give. The good i see within me, creates the conviction that i not only can identify the good in her, but can choose to give what is good within me to her. This is the journey of charity that i know i've embarked upon.

How do we know whether we are being "fruitful" in our relationships? Here, we see the wisdom behind Jean's 4th advice for couples- do not be exclusive. It is our friends and community that will be able to tell whether we are growing or simply changing. As such, ask for truthful observations from a loving community.

Find someone who is ready to receive. In a reflection on the scriptural verse " there is more happiness in giving than in receiving", Henri Nouwen wrote that where we choose to receive, we allow the other the happiness of giving. If you are ready to give, then the corollary of that, must be a partner who is ready to receive. Now there is a difference between this, and a person who is only there to receive. A person who is ready to receive, blesses the other when the gift is imperfect. Such a person is open to being surprised. A person who is only there to receive- makes criticisms as to why things couldnt be better. He wonders when is the next, better surprise going to be. I must admit to being the second person a long while ago. It was unsatisfying and exhausted the relationship. A person ready to receive, gives abundantly and freely. This is because such a person appreciates the value of a gift. And where we walk down the matrimonial path and decide to give ourselves, isnt the greatest joy having the other be ready to receive all that we are?

These are the 3 boxes to consider ticking in finding your right partner. If you are already in an existing relationship, I leave you these boxes to decide whether they are worthy of reflection. I do not think these are idealistic. I think they are aspirational. One's shrouded in naivete, another in hope. And I hope that this reflection brings joy to you as you encounter and discover love in all its many forms. And if you are single, I hope that this, if anything, allows you to think, more seriously, as to the kind of relationship you want to enter into.

why study

2010-05-27T09:54:00.001+08:00

The presupposition made in setting any essay question is this: the essay question is worthy of reflection. When an essay asks us to discuss the differences between morality, ethics, values and the law we therefore ask: What would make this subject worthy of reflection? It cant be economical benefits- there is hardly any; it could be as a result of a University syllabus, but i think we all can agree that no University worth its salt will cite that as a reason to pose such a question to its students. We need a better reason. I would suggest that this reason is found by reflecting upon the nature of and what it means to be a student.

A student is undeniably defined by the work that preoccupies her- studying. Studying is an accumulation of knowledge and a search for theories. In that search arises an intellectual awe for the genius that preceded our generation and for the magnificence of our past visionaries. Its Freud and Jung for the psychologist; Dworkin and Hart for the lawyer; Beethoven and Mozart for the musician; Da Vinci and Michaelangelo for the artist; Edison and Einstein for the engineer; Aquinas and Aristotle for the seminarian. It is with a hope that we embark upon our readings- a closet shy belief that we could make a difference the way they have.

The student therefore idealizes and idolizes. It is no surprise that we constantly hear about the differences between the studying and the sadly jaded "working world". Subconsciously, we do begin to dream and visualise the way working doesnt allow for. That is why we fight and we debate. But whilst the theories and the debates rages on in our minds, comes a fundamental question: what is right? Phrased in more philosophical terms, the question is, what is true?

Sad to say, this search is quite a disappointing one. The search for truth, leads not so much to the truth per se. Rather, it leads to the love for a search. It leads to a love of history and a love of interpretation. It leads to a love of analysis and a love of dialogue. And as all such loves arises from our lives and its diverse experiences, we inevitably also begin to marvel at creation. With faith, the marvel is turned towards the Creator. A catholic student of psychology, for example, treads on the hard technicalities of the law governing psychologists, and moves into the abstract morality underpinning it, which is influenced by dominant social philosophies. She takes one step back, and marvel at the wonders of human thought and the splendour of a history unfolding and evolving into a present that she is a part of and a future she will have a hand in making. And there, she sees God's hand in the course of human history and God's will set in motion for the future.

In the annals of centuries, philosophers and intellectuals have attended to a question that is now posed to the student: who am I? Grappling this question begins with theories. Theory about human nature and human origin. Theories about human thought. Each student will of course answer that differently. But whatever it is, the point is that we must answer if we do not want to be lukewarm and to be biblically "spat out". The point is that, this question is posed to us individually and incumbent upon each person to answer.

The only justifiable reason for this essay is therefore this: it is necessary for the students themselves to understand on an intellectual and personal level, the meaning of their professions. There is no better way to achieve this than to have them reflect on morality and ethics. They are answering "who am I as a professional"

At philosophy is where both the intellectual and personal converge: the student is asked about theories of morality, being made to read debates about ethics and begin seeing that her own profession will engage such ideas in reality. The doctor knows that the hipprocatic oath is the principle by which his conduct would be regulated by: do no harm. The psychologist knows that confidentiality is the essence of a patient's route to recovery. The lawyer knows that his first duty is to the court. This knowledge is therefore personalised only when there is discussion about what is right and wrong and when one comes to see that professions engage lives in an intimate manner- for some it could literally mean life or death. Academia is the kiss of the intellect on the soul. To put it simply, one must study.

Dollars and Sense

2010-05-23T23:20:00.008+08:00

It is settled. The home's now just a house. What was once a place to live is now a place to reside. And the rationale behind it is a simple one: money. See the problem with money, i have learnt, is that it makes everything way too transitory. A business lasts as long as financial capital and assets are in excess over incurred debts. The comfort of a service or a ride lasts as long as one can afford. The sick lives as long as his wallet allows. A home remains as long as its investment value is lucrative. After that, it is all gone. Life is fleeting as it is. Money accelerates this.

When money accelerates life, it exhausts the one non-negotiable and non renewable resource: time. We are a treasure trove of memories. Memories are what we accumulate through time. And time connects meanings to objects. The autogate and its idiosyncratic clang everytime it is opened is attached to the arrival or departure of a person in the family. It either means dad is back or mum is going to work. Lying on the bed, i stare at the dust filled fluorescent light that brought memories of the first and only time i cleaned it about a decade ago. I think about the parquet flooring between my bed and my cupboard. I lie there to sleep on Sundays and after late night outs and also when I've made certain hygiene compromises. In a simple signature all would be fading remnants of the past. The memories and the meaning in exchange for the money. Maybe that is why they call it cold, hard cash.

But of course we got to be practical.

Practical. That is the language that our culture uses today. It is the cement by which money finds its philosophical support. They call it the need for income. Income. What a misguided word. What comes in? A number of digits that represent two things. First, the value of the bills in a locked drawer in an isolated room with metal bars that you probably never see in a lifetime; and second, the duration of the time you never used to love and never got to be loved.

I think that this post seeks only to highlight the pitfalls of this pursuit in an in-your-face, say-it-like-you-see-it manner. It neither seeks to offer advice nor aims to paint a rosier picture. At the end of the day, the pitfall is a simple and sad one: we end up incurring a human cost to avoid a financial one- this makes the dollars but no sense.

A picture speaks a thousand words

2010-05-13T02:00:00.001+08:00

There is much mystery in the art of a picture. This is because so much is conveyed in so little. A picture speaks a thousand words, and in a thousand words I therefore intend to speak for a picture.

In this picture, I’ll say that there is a call for relevance. As such, the black background caused by a shadow cast from the flash of a camera, throws the irrelevant chairs, tables, walls and decorations away into oblivion. This is not a painting and the picture itself is not art. It is the object of the picture, the central focus that makes the picture one of beauty. The background must therefore be brought into oblivion simply because it is not relevant. What is relevant is the person from whom the shadow forms it shape and by which the picture finds its theme. The theme is Simple Beauty.

Simple Beauty. One characterizes another. But the inverse might not be right. Beauty might be simple, but simplicity is not necessarily beautiful. The evening dress can never be the adjective to describe her uniqueness. Rather, it is she who gives one reason to call the light-turquoise gown she’s in ravishing. And so, what does simple beauty mean?

It means that there is neither act nor pretence. A smile is a smile which conveys nothing more than the happiness behind the occasion that brought the smile about and that speaks; nothing more than the joy that is crystallized in the curvatures of her lips. I therefore would make a bold and presumptuous speculation that should she revisit her photo ten, twenty years down, the purity behind the elation of that occasion would reach over and beyond the confines of the picture to tug at her heartstrings. And evidence that this has happened, would be in the form of yet another smile. This time, maybe the smile of a life lived and loved. Maybe of the fond memories of pranks played and jokes cracked.

I’ll say something else. Simple does not mean simplistic. Simplistic is a magazine with Britney Spears with a caption of “oops I did it again” smeared across the front page after another annulment. Rather, simple just means authentic. But like how only the knowledgeable get to appreciate the mona lisa and her aesthetic dimensions, authenticity is not observed and felt, but known. This throws an entirely different spin to our theme.
More essentially, this is the logical and academic analysis behind her resplendence shining beyond the rectangles of the picture to pierce the deep recesses of someone who knows her.

See the thing about beauty is that it seeks to convey what is real. What is real goes beyond what we can see. This is a message I’ve learnt over the course of three months. I will say that what is real is found in an invite to “doubt no longer but believe”. Like after putting our hands through the pierced sides and wounds, we believe after we’ve seen the choices a person makes to be present to another. She puts aside what is the most essential resource- that rejuvenates her day and energizes her spirit- only to tell me “I still want to talk”. She goes beyond time and space to ask, simply, but not simplistically, “can I pray with you.” She says, fighting back fatigue and lethargy “tell me about your day”. Simply put, she chooses to be real. And this is enthralling.

Her posture says it all. She leans forward- slightly relaxed and concurrently slightly eager. As if there was something that she is curious to know and yet as if she is already basking in the luxury of knowing it. It is as though there is an anticipation to encounter another, without judgment without preconceptions and without expectations. And yet at that same time, the same assurance and confidence that she has found the right view of the other- the view from above. The view from above that says, “this is my child, whom I am well pleased”. It is as though she’s found the key to celebrating another and she is saying that it begins with celebrating who you are.

Who she is, is a peek into her soul that the eyes have become the windows for- so the saying goes. What you will find is a deep sense of awe and a marvel of the world she’s been brought into on a Sunday morning, and a joy that exclaims “I am so happy for my friend” on a random afternoon. What you will find is a cheeky laughter which is neither shackled by the euphemistic “realities” of today nor stifled by the fears of an uncertain tomorrow. In her eyes, you will see her courage to dream.

She makes a slight tilt to the left. Her jaw line leads into the no man’s land between the mind and the soul, the head and the heart. This is the proverbial longest journey any one is to make. Against a flock of black and brown and with a pair of dangling earrings is the importance and distance of this journey emphasized. Yet where does the one end and another begin? When does the intellect give way to the personal? That is the beautiful mystery that we can only observe and ponder.

“God must have spent a little more time on me…” she quotes from a song in a playful and cheeky triumph at that time, completely oblivious to the fact that such a quote could summarize succinctly what the picture is all about. The picture says that “captivating” does not come in sophistry and complicated shades of colors in masterful strokes on big cathedrals; it says that “mesmeric” can be one articulated not just as a matter of eloquence but as a matter of truly knowing another; it says that here is a girl whose eyes and smiles, whose posture and personality and whose life, such beauty exudes from. We know that we are made in the image of God. We are a little clearer what that image is, today.

My Ang Moh friend

2010-05-06T08:50:00.002+08:00

" it was a pleasure mate, truly a pleasure", he wished me in his usual British accent, that by now, was diluted by doses of "lahs" and "wah lao eh". And then we had one of those quasi hand shakes-hugs that i always thought belonged to a generation of a 21-year-old British and thus never got used to. But then like the many things i've gotten acquainted with because of him, there is always the first. And in his words, they are "ace".

I introduce everyone to him as my "ang moh" friend. Believe me, i havent so much as conceived of the possibility that such a friendship could have happened. Acquainted at a mooting course, a subsequent drafting into a similar team set our paths overlapping, in the direction of Canada for the one purpose of kicking ass. But this path was anything but smooth-sailing. The three of us had contrasting personalities and interests. And those contrasts, in my tutors' view, were at times conflicting. Their advice to aid us in our cohesiveness was to talk about our feelings. It was second nature to our female tutors. To us, it was like learning a new language.

Every week, therefore, was a battle waged on many fronts. On one hand, we had to compete against each other, to sharpen each member's reasoning abilities. On another, the very competitive nature of such scenarios forced us to adopt stances that were diametrically opposed to our cohesiveness. In addition, the voluminous materials that we had to process every week, on top of our punishing workload, made the journey an incredibly daunting one.

But that cliche about turning weaknesses into strengths? The magic of that we manage to wield in Canada- how we did it still remains baffling to me. But what were three persons with one huge gap of inadequacies became one team with an unprecedented determination to succeed. Where we were impaired by our social awkwardness or acting skills, my ang moh friend would ride in with his eloquence and drama; i plugged in the gaps of our knowledge in the law, my "non ang moh" friend, like a potter, gave shape and structure to the presentation.

And so ass kicking, we did. Ask the champions- we gave them a run for their money. Ask the audience who gave us the standing ovation; ask our adversaries-professors, experts included. We did not win, but our heads were held high. They still are.

What was strictly business became leisure. The post competition, fish-head curry at my place, Ip man (that my ang moh friend resiliently calls " I-P- man") an island wide supper yesterday exploring Singapore's nightspots was the extent of our social get togethers. I do not know when an individual ends and a team begins; neither do i know when work ends and friendship begins. But yesterday, the ang moh friend passed me his rayban sunglasses, one with a shiny surface- the one i said i looked better than him in- and in it was a reflection. A reflection of how far we've come, together.

journal entry no.10.

2010-04-21T18:49:00.007+08:00

I've given my thoughts away. Well, not so much the intangible conceptual thought that you might be thinking of if you are an intellectual, and not so much the synaptic bursts between the ends of two neurons, if you are a doctor. Rather, I've written my thoughts in a journal and I've given them to another. Nine of them, to be specific. As these concerns a journal, we now know that we are not talking about any thoughts, but a specific category of thoughts. I am here to think about thoughts.

My thought" is something of an oxymoron. Everyday I bring in the influences, impressions and creations of others. I incorporate the words that others give and I rephrase it in my own words and then I pass it on for another to understand. I dont own my thoughts any more than I own the air I breathe. It is therefore ridiculous to hold so much to ourselves when it was never ours to begin with. Is an original thought a matter of creation or more than a fanciful amalgamation of other pre-existing thoughts? The rationale for sharing thoughts is therefore irrelevant. The real question is who would I express it to. But in order to host this technical query, we must begin with the nature of a thought. Here, I can only speak in metaphors.

You see, thoughts are like words. They live their mark behind. That mark can quite usually be an emotional one. Knowing that my parents think of me as a messy person, makes me feeling well... mixed about it. Yet for me to have such a feeling, this person must come to mean something. Because thoughts without emotions are thoughts so separated from the rest of you that you might as well not have them. To mean something is to have this person occupy a certain place in my thoughts that gives an emotional background to those thoughts. As such, in the compartments of memory and imagination must this person reside.

We will like to be parsimonious about the areas that we allow the other enter into. Trust me, that is a futile attempt. Because one thought does not exist alone. One thought exists and is shaped by other thoughts. This thought then, in turn, moulds and causes other thoughts. For example, the thought of my parents calling me messy, gives me an of what they think messiness is, which thereby influences what in my opinion, is messy. I do not for a moment have ever called my room, messy, though many others have. Now,when I share with you the state of my room, you'd know not just the state of my room but also my idea of what constitutes a mess. I am thus completely unable from stopping a person from entering into another compartment of thoughts after sharing with them one. Therefore, if access to my thoughts is something I cannot prevent, then by all means I must be cautious about who I let in. Because when the person enters, I become ready to let all be known.

So if i havent answered the who, I'll do so right now. I've invited someone into my thoughts by passing my journal over. I've made such an invitation based on the two analyses i've given earlier- on what the person means to me and how the person acts when within. As for the first, that is clearly a thought that the public eye is not allowed access to i.e. that is personal. As for the second, this person is gentle. There is no knocking and demands for access but only an eager anticipation that quietly cajoles and charms. What are the physical attributes by which one can observe to prove this? A listening ear, a smiling patience, a compassionate curiosity and a desire to tell the truth.

friday, 2nd April, 2015

2010-04-02T01:30:00.003+08:00

I do not see the sun- it is way too early. Instead, I walk into the office. There is that familiar pile of notes. Adjacent to those notes, a brown file lies precariously. What makes it even more suspect is the two parties named. Two Governments, a dispute and a multimillion dollar contract. It is an allegation on expropriation- which basically means theft. And I happen to represent the thief. The adrenaline hits me and before I know it, I am ploughing away relentlessly at the keyboard.

The working hours are humane today. Either the work is little, or I am becoming way too effective. So work ends at 5pm and in that instance, a lawyer morphs into a husband. It is all a ritual now: springing out the car keys, jogging down the stairs to a flamboyant Aston Martin that is only too eager to be on the road again. The husband moves into the highway and exits right where the rush hour traffic begins. There he is at the entrance of a hospital.

She walks out hurriedly- probably her day was as hectic as his, he has no idea. She looks around and notwithstanding the fact that there is only one silver-two-doored Aston Martin in the whole hospital compound, she fails to notice her husband. He sighs. He drives up. "Oh there he is"- she mouths, with a smile that makes him remember dedicating an entire article to, once- 5 years ago.

And there is an agenda today to be discussed. Couple stuff, really. I show it to her. It reads "flight Departure timing". She is confused and reads further. And she understands and experiences a deja vu. A deja vu because this sounds remarkably like something mentioned a long time ago, probably in a phone conversation. And the itinerary is extensive- from Tokyo to Hawaii to England. She can hardly remember why these specific destinations. The husband looks over, a whole amalgamation of anxiousness, fear and excitement shows in his eyes.

They reach home. A newly built, single storied bungalow. Three puppies greet them. The husband in his usual irritated fashion, brushes them aside to do the dreary and weary task of preparing their dinner. If only there was a maid. And she sits down in front of the dinner table- a spread of salmon, cod and broccoli. Freshly baked from the world famous Italian Chef from two streets down. She takes a photo of a delightful spread. Says her grace. And devours. He settles for the simple- a D24 in the fridge.

After, the husband becomes a cell member with his catholic counterpart. We begin with an acapella- worshipping to the tune of Hillsongs' "This is my desire". And I begin to read off the gospel. And coincidentally, another wave of deja vu hits us with the passage at John 10:10, which says "I have come to give life, and life to the full." I recall what started our journey. I recall what I told her many years ago. I recall to her the words being uttered. And the hilarious circumstances by which we chanced on each other. And in all seriousness, it started with two strangers trying to serve. I tell her that is what makes it incredibly, uniquely, irreplacebly, lovely.

To Speak

2010-03-17T22:30:00.015+08:00

The cardinal principle underlying the law of silence states that what is unsaid is always as important, if not more, than what is. This is because what I feel is definitely more than what I can say.

I'll say that the architectures of a perfect smile, begins by postulating itself on the planks of two perfect dimples. I'll say that these contours would gradually ascend to eyes that gaze in wonder of Life's treasures and the world's mysteries. I'll say that each smile is different and perfect on its own. For every angle, casts a different vision of happiness, that can only be expressed in its irresistible uniqueness. Even so, I am not doing justice to what I feel in response to this photograph taken. This photograph taken, that in a cliched expression, asks rhetorically, "a picture paints a thousand words, right?". Somethings cannot be said, and the beauty is to allow the unsaid to be.

The genie of silence must however be kept in its lamp, till the opportune moment. Our nature is entrusted with way too much to have that genie dictate the superfluous and misguided impressions that we incidentally convey. The misunderstood is borne from what is not said, rather than what is.

Life's too alienating as it is- the divisiveness of our arrogance, aloofness and ignorance prizes independence at the expense of communality. Against this, must we pick up our arms for our liberation. And believe me, we have the ammunition.

Like a ray that emerges from the horizon of thoughts, our speech illuminates all that it reaches and touches. And where at one point in time, ambiguity and vagueness shrouds the mind in blindness, with pristine clarity and lucidity it is now enveloped with. Can one express comprehensively what life and love is? perhaps not. But momentarily, with the brilliance of speech, is one given an opportunity to.

And perhaps that is all there is to be sought in this life. The nearing of the gap between who you are and who I am. To find, on a theatre of language, an act or character of sentiment is to know and feel that such sentiment resides not in one person alone, but common to all. But without the theatre and the gusto to tell, who would say? who would dare convey the personal when such communication involves the risk of ridicule? Life's a game of russian roulette and living means spinning the cannisters. Find the person who would dare you to speak. And when you find that person who's allowed you to, that's the diamond in the rough. Dont let go. That is the challenge today.

what makes a day perfect

2010-03-07T00:37:00.010+08:00

A perfect day begins with a situation of olympic proportions. A two kilometre sprint. And together with this event is its corollary- the grandeur and adrenaline of being a competitor. And because a perfect day is not defined only at its start but also by its end, the day must conclude with some sort of victory, some achievement or satisfaction. There must be at the end of that day, a trophy raised.

But that is an incomplete picture. And there can be no true appreciation without a true picture.
The true picture, in my perfect day, is everything that happens in between the get go to the finishing line. It is in the run that started off a little rough or the despair that came along with the fatigue that set in way too early. It is in the mental images and logical faculties that fail to persuade the mind that the journey can be made. It is in the timing that looks way too untenable and in the paralyzing exhaustion.
And it is then, that a miracle happens.

Nope its not gatorade, for goodness sake. Its something better. Its the large resonating voice of a person saying a prayer. The prayer that invigorates in its wisdom and its gentleness. The prayer that says "there is a font of strength that is beyond you, now reach for it, because it is yours." A prayer that asks, without doing so, "can I be present to you". And now the runner isnt running alone, neither is he running for himself and by himself. Now there are two, or three persons running by him and in him. There is a multiplication of efforts, a combining of energies. The quadriceps, somewhat bewildered by the origin of this extra burst, tighten with renewed vigour.

And then the finishing line, becomes a possibility. And then victory is within grasp.

But the trophy isnt all. The trophy is just an item costing no more than a handphone or watch. It is the smiles that the trophy brings, in the dinner table, with the handshake of a father and exhilarated siblings that plants the day deep into the heart of one's memory. It is anticipating the look on the person who prayed, when the gift is received that announces that the trophy is won, that gives that memory a profound joy. It is knowing that with every step of our lives, we take along with us, those persons who matter: their thoughts, their joys, their all.

veronica

2010-03-02T00:02:00.007+08:00

The earth, a formless void. A deep black that extends from the depths of eternity to the beyond of infinity. It is at 2 am that I switch off the lights. And the pitch black consumes and engulfs like an everlasting fog. A fog that like a hospice where a classmate lies, makes no cognizance of the time or day, with no promises of what tomorrow brings.

And what is being without the promise of tomorrow like? It is like being an object of rejection in the midst of a fist throwing crowd that has neither remorse nor sadness for the cruelty inflicted. It is the confusion of being welcomed with palm leaves in one instance, and being chased away while bearing the weight of a wooden cross in another. It is what makes one cry out "eli eli lama sabachtani".

A lady bursts forth from the crowd. She has nothing to offer apart from a white piece of linen. A white piece of linen against His face dripping red from the thorns enmeshed into his forehead is all she has to give. And maybe that is all that there is to give. No words to offer. Just a gesture. A gesture speaks in the language of love.

A language of love. What do we make of that these days? It is in that same hospice where a classmate lies, that a language of love echoes. It echoes through our caritas where we hear and understand. More importantly, when we feel. And it is felt by all of us who have now become, in the course of time different and unfamiliar with each other. Maybe on the road we might look past or through each other as absolute strangers. But a same history- of punishments like standing in the middle of the courtyard, of the principal we can never forget, of the all-too-familiar rotund- is something that we have to re-feel together. And feeling together and feeling with, is what two persons, estranged by the distance and duration of each other's absence, experience when they say "lets pray for him".

In a random manuever, I rest my hands on the blinds and through the gaps a warm orange glow from the street lamp seeps through. It seeps through and quietens the screaming silence of the darkness. And then, out of that formless void, there is light.

the library

2010-02-17T14:06:00.002+08:00

I make a hasty approximation: her flock of hair says eighty. But considering the size of the chinese words she's looking at, I'll go with sixty years old. Beside that lady is another- she's looking at this magazine called bazaar and the rate at which she flips the pages and the manner in which her pupils bounce up and down, speaks volumes about its content.

Here I am, in the library, seated adjacent to a pillar with a plug that gives power to this laptop to continue its literary function. Laid out before me like a carpet before the emperor is two rows of chairs with strangers devouring their respective readings. I like it here.

There is an amazing similarity with all of us here- The lady sitting diagonally opposite me is prying through a travel guide with the an inquisitivity that can only be described as ferocious. Right in front of me is a lady who's closed eyes and clenched teeth gives an impression of a subconscious resolve. As for a resolve to do what, your guess is as good as mine. And here I am, pounding away against a keyboard way too tiny for my hands, trying to the deny the inescapable fact that I have readings scheduled for today. We are all in some sort of pursuit of our dreams maybe, some in the form of denial, the more practical ones fall asleep.

We are connected by the randomness of our decisions to be here. I have no idea why I am in this specific library apart from the hope that vicinity and opportunity are connected. And in that random decision, I have come to give witness to the present.
I have come witness to this fact: That more people give homage to the present than we care to believe- the world has given us the impression of a better tomorrow so much so today's of little significance. In the library, where everyone basks in the quiet now of their readings, being transported to the amazing world of CS lewis or the boggling mysteries of Agatha Christie, or to the utter hopelessness and despondency of Aldous Huxley or George Orwell one cant help but develop a sense of great reverence of the now.

There is great reverence because it is deep beneath the walls of the vatican where a Dan Brown thriller unfolds, or lost in the woods of a Neil Gaiman story that one finds his or her quiet. It is the streets of Afghanistan that we run along and the roads of Golgotha that we find tragedy and heartbreak. There is a place for us, in the library. And there is peace in the quiet. It is way too noisy outside- there is always a place to go and we are always speeding. That is why we crash.

The library finds itself in a very neat contradistinction to the road- the people move less here and live more. And it is now, after displaying my own respect for those who've done so, that I retreat behind the solace of my readings.

Misunderstanding faith.

2010-02-13T17:12:00.012+08:00

"With every step of our lives we enter into a story that we are certain to misunderstand" GK Chesterton. I've entered into a catholic story. And I am certain that I have misunderstood it. Maybe the biggest mistake that I used to make is to think that this religion is one of expectations.

We expect to be saved, we expect to meet the nicest of persons and we expect others to safeguard our vulnerabilities. On the other hand, we take on the full brunt of a whole host of other expectations: that of commitment, the rules and rites that we have to go for and those others have of us. Thus, a day of "obligation". Expectations are a bag of bricks and it makes us ask, sooner or later, what is the meaning behind all of it.

I do think that there is an invitation to interpret it all differently. "If you know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, why cant you interpret the sign of the times?" Matthew 16:2-3. The question is: is there? Is there a way to see the cup half-full?

It is not easy to recall, constantly, the self-evident and obvious fact that we are human. But that is the starting point of any meaningful reflection: because I am human, I am a person who's embraced by all that my humanity clothes me with. Those are sentiments, failings, achievements, weaknesses, losses, rights....and responsibilities. Responsibility, in my opinion, is the other interpretation.

What then does responsibility mean?
First, knowing that no one lives your life.
Second, appreciating that your life has an impact on others.
Third, getting to decide what kind of impact that has on others.

Through this lens, faith then becomes personal and not imposed. Since it is "my life", I am going to decide whether to accept this invitation to believe. When I accept this invitation, I am becoming open to appreciate the fact that my life and my belief interacts with others. As a result of this interaction, I have to choose the way in which this interaction affects them. That is why the one of the greatest commandments is to love your neighbour- not because it tells others we are Christians, but because in so doing we become one.

With responsibility, comes the idea of empowerment. This is because the christian sense of responsibility is infused with meaning, it is paved with direction and cushioned with compassion. Where one reflects that his or her life is precious, because it can be gone in an instant, then the actions that flow from it becomes meaningful. With reason, comes motivation. The choices that are made is infused with a sense of purpose, and persons become reasons to hope in, rather than expect of.

It is this hope that one presents to another, when one is willing to show his or her wounds and his or her pierced sides to say "doubt no longer but believe" that we begin to uncover a little bit more, of what our faith is really about.

An Ordinary Account

2010-01-28T17:04:00.007+08:00

On my right lies a name card. Above the person's name is a huge maroon title, "Sichuan Chinese Medicine Centre". Above that are other chinese writings that I shall not bore you further with. And I must say I was quite tempted to throw that away, if not for certain facts that this ordinary card is attached to.

Ordinary. There is something wrong about this word isnt it? This word is an arrogant belligerent that conquers by way of assumption. Something that is ordinary is assumed to be uninteresting. Something ordinary can be assumed to be meaningless. Anything described as ordinary, loses its value almost instantaneously. This ordinary name card, big enough to be observed and small enough to be inconspicuous, is attached to just a little more.

The name card points towards a location. The location is connected with a series of events. Those series of events, involve certain persons that have contributed to my current emotional state of mind. The ordinary name card has the potential to bring together, instantaneously, past and present. That is why I am not throwing it away.

It brings to the present a very interesting message. And I quote from Robin Williams' Character in Good Will Hunting, "you will never know what true loss is, because that only happens when you love something more than you love yourself." Nope, I have not experienced the full extent of the truth in that statement, but close.

And come this wednesday, a close Marist friend makes his departure. Come the following Monday, another friend leaves for New Zealand. These persons are part of what is commonly described as an ordinary friendship. But no friendship in my life has been ordinary. And I seem to have made it my life's mission to have those persons know that- maybe its ineffective, maybe its wrong- but its me.

I realized that I have not been so personal in this blog, for a long, long time. See what an ordinary name card can do.

an old christian world new.

2009-12-29T02:03:00.009+08:00

"See mother, I make all things new", said a man on his knees, his raw wounds stinging against the hostile gravel and unforgiving sand. His wounds were self-inflicted some would say. Surely he could have said something else or denied what he said. He could have been euphemistic, at best. He did not. So where he was, he must have chosen. On him a monstrous trunk set his fated and painful destination. And around him stands a mob relishing the moment in self righteous condemnation with fists and curses- a cruel contradiction when taken in contrast with the welcome the man received earlier in the week.

Strange how the passage of time lends us to witness huge contradictions. Egoes the size of bell towers reduced to humble rubble in a matter of semesters. Ideals so romantic that painters would delineate a square metre of the Sistine Chapel to, by a mere matter of years, retired to a shade of exhausted grey. What two virgins lose underneath the shelter of a blanket, becomes a kicking and chuckling gain in a span of nine months.

And it is at this time when we are at our prime, with our intellect firing and searching for more to devour in a feast of understanding, that we come to witness a huge contradiction within ourselves: our desire to lead a christian life seems hopelessly irreconcileable with the sexual urges that this world tells us to unleash. A fiery beast seems to be awakening and the guard to the gates, with more thoughts and less clothes, loses resolve to cage it in. Is our world ever going to be different, can it be made new?

I would begin by saying that struggles do not make sense unless we know what the struggling is about. And the struggle is NOT about staying away from sex. The struggle is in the wait. The problem is in the meaning of waiting. And i do not offer so much a solution than an instrument for competition. What am I competing for? For your mind's eye. For a perspective that shapes our intellect and our decisions. The challenge I have undertaken is to find an equally compelling view of sex that not only makes sense, but makes sense sufficiently for one to re-orientate his or her lifestyle. It is difficult, but like that same piece of wood, it sets the destination, and the destination is promising.

If this discussion sounds like one made from some high horse, I intend to step down from it immediately. I am excited about the task ahead and I venture into the territories of the ideal, perhaps one more time. But the task is grounded in reality. The task is to have one love knowing. Know what makes us who we are. And to love knowing is to love doubt and to love questions. And to love, isnt that what life is about.

I struggle and fall. And I have realised it is not enough to try to get back on my feet. It is more important to know what makes my choice to fall or not a meaningful one. And although i am in my search, i have found a powerful microscope to tell me what goes on within. And with that I also found within myself the capacity and ability to take the fight to them. We take the fight by making the old, new.

Simple Things

2009-12-26T11:16:00.004+08:00

What is beautiful?

Enduring the rain. Singing cheesy romantic songs and laughing at ourselves. Love is in the air, among 4 heavily armoured personnels carrying umbrellas, huddled together in a miserable tent. Ranting about the inevitability and inescapability of reservist, but relishing the unspoken fun and enjoyment in seeing a familiar face after a year long absence.

Listening to the breeze. With none other than a close church friend. And church is important because spirituality gives a depth of appreciation to the waters and the trees, that the aesthetically defunct me can never truly get. To have music that are sung by the waves against the shore, by the trees against the wind is to be a part of a More.

A study group taking shape. That beyond the personal convictions, lie an anticipation to amass the creative enthusiasm of persons to bring a new dawn to our Belief. It is life-giving and the seeds that we'll sow are going to be revolutionary. I guarantee it even if I stand alone in this.

Having an old friend celebrate christmas together. An old and good friend.

the piractical perspective

2009-11-27T13:32:00.010+08:00

"Captains of our fate", my brother quotes. Lets take it further. If we are captains, what we also are guilty of, is an unending web of piracy.

Our ships cross paths in the high seas of coincidences. And the ships that are directed in our path are diverse. And hostile. There are those who attract and those who repel us. Those who make us intimidated and the others whom we terrify. Whether its trepidation or admiration, they act unisonly and singlemindendly- to conquer. Some of us are just nicer- we steal instead. We steal the corners of what makes others who they are, by injecting them a dose with our worldview. A view they neither asked nor welcomed. But no matter, because it is inescapable.

Now, this is what happens when two ships collide. We attempt to avoid a titanic fate. So we try to change the language of our problem. We are no longer faced with the end as long we are each other's means. What happens is the conspiring of other ships to create a floating wreck that CS lewis reminds us not to make "a floating hell" out of. Just as well then, live in the peace of staying afloat. With the undeniabiltiy that what was once ten different glorious vessels, is now just a chunk of moving metal.

But every now and then there is an anomaly. A mutiny arises and the captain is thrown abroad. A new one takes his place. He finds that there is now a need not to avoid collision but a desire to embrace it. In his mind, that is the only way he gets around being incommunicado. And the only way to create something out of nothing, is to have a big bang. To throw not just heat and sound, but light! To render the intangible intelligible. The only way that is going to happen, is not then to convince the other to form a wreck- that is too highly controversial. He instead creates one.

And after the subjugation he sings a different tune. Instead of the crude language of means and ends, he invokes the romantic notion of a friend- the most providential gift of grace that he could only praise the heavens for. What the old captain calls a wreck, the new calls an island. We now speak in the collective. Its "ours".

The UN convention on the law of the sea calls piracy any act of violence committed for private ends by the crew of a private ship on the high seas against another ship. No wonder its universally accepted.

a deeper sense of being human

2009-11-12T22:50:00.009+08:00

So whilst Unger argues for the full human flourishing in the freedom of men to smash their context, he to that extent places freedom above the current morality embedded in the existing institutional materials. The sense of freedom is placed at the core of what it means to be human. Mill says how can you impose your morality on someone's freedom, Devlin says sorry we've got to, and Hart says we're just doing what a dad would- would you let your kid play with fire?

The catholic on the other hand, argues not a freedom from but a freedom to- Finnis and Aquinas being two of them. My conception of freedom is built on Unger's but yet departs from his at this significant point- whilst freedom for him is to be free to re-imagine the context, freedom in the sense i am talking about, is a movement towards a reality that makes sense of all that is human, that no longer rejects but appreciates the context. To that extent, yes it is an emotional one.

Are we free to disagree? Of course we are. In all circumstances? Of course not. Our very agreement to disagree derives from our understanding that we are both unique human beings with vastly different experiences. But that also sets the lowest floor. This lowest floor that we cannot and must not cross is that we are being humans. So what is an affront to human dignity, what goes against human logic or rationality, we must disassociate ourselves from. We seek to do what is right, and that is a responsiblity accorded to all of us precisely because "we are made in the image of God". The freedom discourse here only looks towards a unique appreciation of differences after a fundamental and irreducible agreement is met.

But we face a fundamental contradiction. The fundamental contradiction the Crits talk about is this- on one hand we look to belong, as part of a community. On another, that very community subverts and threatens our need to be separate individuals. The freedom in the sense i am proposing seeks to reconcile the two because whilst men's boundaries should not be annexed, neither should he be an island. And this can be achieved if one looks beyond himself. There, freedom is attained because the individual looks towards the common good, whilst in achieving that good asserts more of his individuality. So both the community and the individual are means and ends for each other. The community is built on the reliance that its interests are that of the individual, and the individual adopts that in furtherance of becoming more human. We get a win-win.

I think the movement of each individual lies with the first choice of being human. Men wont be able to conceive of being divine before they can start choosing to be human. When Pontious Pilate said "it is custom to release a prisoner every year" men chose to have barrabas. The choice to be human therefore must also include a freedom to make mistakes. That does not come as an easy message in today's totalitarian culture of efficiency. But that is the price we must pay for full human flourishing. It requires a gentle yet assertive embracing of each individual to be confident enough to make mistakes so that he would be confident enough to admit them. The virtue of honesty and responsiblity definitely compensates for the economic disbenefits.

What i have strived to do is to provide a context by which freedom could be used as a means to make sense of what goes on around. In this I have put forth three angles by which one could consider both for society and the participant in society; for the church and the church goer; for the community and the member.

Enjoying chaos.

2009-10-14T15:15:00.005+08:00

It's what i have to do, it's an assignment due this friday, another one due on Tuesday. It's an exam i have in three weeks, and readings i have not so much as begun. It is the Nicaragua case, and the legal arguments for collective self-defence, the analysis behind customary norms, it is the dismal grades from an assignment returned, a morale lost in the heat of all those arguments and then its church, its people and elections. And its exercise. In short, it is chaos.

Having a schedule only brings me into the deeper illusion of an order. Knowing what comes next is not the same as knowing what i am doing. And so today i am just going to make clear where exactly am i headed, and in that direction how does everything fit in.

I am headed to this uncompromising, unforgiving place called litigation. It, in perhaps its greek-roman-spanish-paganistic origin, must have been founded in some sort of war. They call it an adversarial system. In the past, they used to fight with swords. Now we use words. I am learning all those tactics. I am learning this is in a painstaking and absolutely degrading manner. What I have done is to subject myself to the scrutiny of the professors and my peers, to their eager minds waiting to challenge my logic at its very foundations. Necessary, as i said in the previous post. But none in the least bit, because of this mere necessity, more comforting.

So the course i am taking, is a good reflection of that. Might be a matter of coincidence or grace, depending on the perspective you incline towards- it is arbitration and international moots. It is jurisprudence to open my mind abit wider. Its debates held in class, the framing of arguments. It is about the my writing style and more importantly the manner in which i organize my thoughts. And from what you can tell, that seems to be in quite a mess.

But I can assure you that this is an exciting life. It's an action film that those great explosions you see on TV, the glamorous sword fights between Hector and Achilles, the light saber exchanges between Obi Wan and Anakin, the Face Off between Nicholas Cage and John Travolta, pale in comparison to. But these movies do go some way to delivering a metaphorical description and encapsulation of the process in which I am pursuing my subject matter. It is about manuevering through the thought processes, finding that argument that clinches the deal- and then delivering it with the force and precision of a tomahawk cruise missile.

Yes, they say litigation is destructive. I dont think my pictorial descriptions could save it from such an accusation- if anything it would reinforce it. But that is the joy. The achievement lies in the control of the situation through the use of reason. THe side stepping of issues by framing an argument in a maner. It is the assertion of facts in a way that does not render it challengeable. And its a world of battle out there. I would say most of that battle takes place within. Those raging feelings of inadequacy are paralysing and decapacitating.

So necessarily, we need to have a place of calm, where there are no fighting and no wars. Church is that demilitarized war zone. That no-man's land between the North and the South, the ultimate cease fire. But that is not completely true, in church there is also that same tension occasionally. A lot lesser though- after all, it is demilitarized. But all things considered, it is that peace and quiet, the place to recuperate. Church is the chance to recover, where there is humanitarian aid on a physical, emotional and spiritual level. It is rejuvenating.

In a perverse manner, I've enjoyed my life, and am relishing each excrutiating moment.as they come along.

Art of Argumentation

2009-08-22T11:57:00.004+08:00

I am writing this for two reasons. One, as a consolidation of all that i have learnt from this course; and two as an act of indignant and ferocious protest at my analytical incoherency.

First, style. i am to talk slowly. In talking slower, i get to think. It is about sending the right message across. No point not being able to deliver something so well prepared. In fact, when you talk at a normal pace, and deliberately slow down, the person listening latches onto the description you propose.

Next, Roadmaps. What are you describing, what are the reasons, what are the elements to be satisfied. State it so the judge knows where you are headed and what element you are trying to reach.

Eye Contact and hand gestures. Keep it there for the former, and keep it down for the latter.

Phrases. Short is good. Less is more. State why the argument should win the case in a single succint sentence.

We move onto substance. Here, i am brought to the extremes, where the argument must not just hold water, it must sustain the niagara falls. Stretched to its logical conclusion, does it mean that in every case where there isnt/ is this element, this conclusion must be reached?

Think about hypothetical scenarios.

The strongest argument is the one that faces the least resistance. Think about a counterargument. Then a counter to a counter. And bring it all the way to a point where there isnt any. If it stands under that amount of scrutiny, it is a good argument.
Infuse it with policy.

So these advices are responses to things i am omitting or comitting. Evidence that there is an irritating bug distracting my mind's eye everywhere else than the forming of a concrete argument or the locating of an indefensible position.

The power of language here makes all the difference. Each person would have prepared a generally similar amount. The way it is delivered and crafted separates great from good, lawyer from senior counsel.

However, this is not all, because if it was all, we would have failed right at the selection stages and in our place would a great national debater or former mooting champion be. We were selcted on potential. The aim was then to nurture it. Analysis can be strengthened and the irritating bug can be squashed.
We were also selected on other criterion. A competitive streak, a loveable personality, a knowledge of areas of law, an eloquency in interactions etc. They saw it in us- that something that said this would work; and they went along with it. We cannot be so inconsiderate as to demolish that faith.

So battered, bruised, scalded and other words synonymous with wounded, we may be. But it is not over, there is always another fight. And what does not kill you, makes you stronger.

The dismantling of Unique

2009-07-06T11:38:00.007+08:00

Who do you think you are? Look yourself in the mirror and tell me, honestly, behind that eye shadow and mascara, underneath those lipsticks and toners, do you think you are that special?

You are not arrogant, just really forgetful. Or maybe what is more rightly called selective amnesia. But let me try to remind you...the time when you felt abandoned and alone, the time when you called out for someone but there was no one on the opposite end; how about that time when those people who called you "friend" or "sister" lashed out at you conveniently at the time you needed some sort of comfort; and that precise moment when you needed some warmth was that exact moment in which you were dismissed?

Can you recall? Let us try to go further. Remember all those visions you set for yourself? All those one-liner resolutions you wrote in your notebook or journal? Remember those epiphanic moments when you thought life was great? Well with all that talk, did you do anything about it or just sit on your ass waiting for another miracle to happen. Tell me of all those resolutions and great wondrous moments of awe which you allege so proudly to have experienced, what did you do about them? You dont know! Oh well, then they havent been so epiphanic after all, have they? Just another of those things with maybe a stronger emotional rush to it.

You are just a dead shell walking through the darkness of mere existence, everyday. Are you trying to climb that very attractive ladder that whispers in your ear everyday that the heavenly throne with the great acronym C E and O are just a few steps away with each compromise to your dignity? Or maybe that godly pedestal where you stand elevated above your colleagues, bathing in the ovation of their approval and nodding and thumbs-up? And just in case you get a pang of guilt, allow me to assure you that it is ok, because all offices are like that. So go ahead with the backstabbing and the gossiping. Its a dog eat dog world. Be a dog.

Is it going too far to call you a dead shell? Hmmm.. well do you feel that there was something you wanted to do but was afraid to do? Some friend you had to say sorry to or someone you've wronged but never did find the courage? Are you so afraid of rejection from what you think you are supposed to do, you rather hide behind the daily grind of what everyone accepts as "real work"? Yes argue and rationalize it, because when you are done with the opium of your excuses and justifications, the cold turkey of truth is going to hit you so hard you are going to need a larger dose the next time. Before you know it you are going to be so hooked to rationalizing, you wont even feel anymore. If that isnt dead, i dont know what is.

Speaking of not knowing, i wonder how many people really know who you are. Seriously, count with one hand, how many persons in your opinion, really know you? Or are you as plain as another mask in the masquerade?

And what is the worst? You have the audacity to think that you are unique, and are formed in God's image.

importance of interreligious knowledge

2009-06-21T15:10:00.002+08:00

If it is to find out how our religion is in anyway superior, we have completely and utterly and miserably lost the point in our ridiculous arrogance. If we laugh at some teaching that goes against what we stand for, we should re-evaluate what exactly we stand for.

The importance of interreligious knowledge lies in a deep appreciation of our own faiths, through a certain understanding of the common points of departure, differences in traditions, and the richness of the other faiths. I would suggest that to actually begin approaching such "enlightenment", one must continually ask himself or herself what all that he or she is learning, means. Otherwise, it would just fall into a mere occasion to judge. What do i mean?

Philosophically speaking, one derives where he stands or who he is, through the identification of the other. This is for many, the source of which one learns. But this is on an intellectual level, which is all fine and good, just that what the jewish people call the "yetzer ra", easily morph such knowledge into points of attack for persons of other faiths. It is easy to label the "other", because it is an inevitable result of the concept of "us". To the jewish person, the concept of God made man is just inconceivable, and maybe to a certain extent laughable when a Christian argues that when that man was crucified, he redeemed humankind from the pains of sin. A Buddhist might argue that our understanding of pain and death result from the inability to reach the nirvana-ic state of ridding our conception of self- to a catholic that might be incomplete perception of truth, and therefore become “ridiculous” or “illogical”.

But if we care to reflect, we will realize that the "yetzer ra", might not be too different from the catholic idea of "concupicence", that the idea of sexual immorality has been regarded as a sin regardless of the religion in which one views these acts, that in his speech in Cairo, the President of the United States rightly pronounced that we are all joint by the law of "do unto others what you want others to do to you"- reflection of our common humanity. So the starting point, to begin appreciation, must be to reflect.

What then do we reflect upon? Nostra Aetate, a church document which literally means "in our time", in the late Pope John Paul 2's reflections, contain the right starting point when it says "Men turn to various religions to solve mysteries of the human condition, which today, as in ealrlier times, burden people's hearts: the nature of man; the meaning and purpose of life; good and evil; the origin and purpose of suffering; the way to true happiness; death; judgment and retribution after death and origin of our existence." The Pope said "we should be amazed at the number of common elements found within them". This is because the Council itself issued a declaration of semina Verbi. Meaning that the seeds of God's truth exist in all religions.

The intellectual challenge lies here: to see commonality could potentially dilute the doctrinal understanding, or worse still the purity in a person's initial conviction- why? Because if it is common, one could begin seeing (if one hasnt ardy) that what differs protestant teaching from the catholic’, is a matter of human interpretation. Which brings to mind how much exactly, are religions divine, and how much are they human-inspired. Understandably, a human-inspired religion can only gather so much conviction in the masses. This is the beginning of more profound reflection: we stop asking what my religion means, but what does Religion mean to me. What is subjective and what is objective?

It is the appreciation of the objective, that we replace our prejudice with appreciation.

Every person, almost definitionally, as part of being a person holds his world-view, and sees through the lenses which are often filled with a certain degree of prejudice and ignorance as well. How then does truth emerge, with vessels incapable of holding the weight of pure, unstained truth? How do you pour new wine into old wineskins without it bursting? There is that school of thought, arising from a case in America that holds that truth emerges from a marketplace of ideas. In the discussion of interreligious faith, we should await eagerly in our learning, the emergence of truth. That perhaps is where we eradicate our prejudices. Because truth resides in all of us, as moral and rational beings, we must first get rid of the illusion that every person is the perfect embodiment of whatever his religion professes. He is human, as we ourselves are and have “fallen short of the glory of God”.
The necessary second step, is to acknowledge not that we are prejudiced, but that the possibility of being prejudiced is very real. We look through the prisms of our own experiences, and undergo what is a very personal encounter within our own faith. More often than not, our faith moulds our perception because it offers an explanation for what happens within ourselves, and makes sense of what is without. Naturally, when a different perspective is proffered, one that threatens our order of life, because it is another sense of right and wrong, we react to it in a hostile manner. Prejudice is just a manifestation of that hostility.

It is at this point in time, that we might come to realize that our prejudices might just be a shallow attempt at splitting hairs between different religions, that if the starting point for all religion is the same, the need to provide Man with a sound basis for the “questions of his heart”, then a different religion is a result of another language being used, and a different expression that results from that use of language, which in turn sparks different traditions and consequently, different believers. We are not so different then, are we?

Put simply, the difference between appreciation and prejudice, which is the key point of studying the different religions, is also the difference between dialogue and debate- one seeks to know, another seeks to be right. More often than not, the need to be right is almost an inevitable consequence of the fear of being wrong. A dialogue embraces the realities that there is a fear of being wrong, but that all are seeking what is right. An accumulation of knowledge, must serve that greater purpose of reaching out for the right, by seeing the unique-ness and the rich heritage present in the various religions, even if it cannot be understood in its full complexity, it must allow us a deep awareness of the historical persecutions and promote sensitivity for the other.

In summary, the Dalai Lama offers a paradoxical proposition: the importance of knowledge on religion is so that we stop emphasizing on religion.

Youth.

2009-05-14T23:46:00.009+08:00

The fountain of youth, according to egyptologists,is where one finds the water that brings immortality. Man's use of metaphors to describe eternity, and the great promises of happiness, seems embedded in the idea of youth, in the promises of young. Jesus said, "unless you become like little children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven." Amongst all the mysteries of faith and theology, the church has begun its exploration into the depths behind the mysteries of youth.

If a community is a place where youths come together to grow, then it is also the sanctuary behind which this mystery blossoms and evolves. For there is a congregation of the creative, the brilliant, the prayerful, the leader, the Mary, the Martha, the intellectual, the simple, all of which we cant do without. There is no one more important than the other. But individually, the community brings what st Irenaus calls, "the glory of God" when these persons are made "fully alive". And when all of us youths stand together, we find the words "there I will be in your midst" made real and visible- when a hand reaches out, when a shoulder is offered, when a quiet prayer is said about an anonymous person sick and alone, when one says "i am sorry" and another "me too", when one raises his palms in worship, when a hug is proferred, when the word is shared, when an affirmation is given, when a challenge is posed- all in all, where there is love.

The great mystery behind the youths lies behind the indefatigueable energy to respond to love- amidst the competing chaotic madness of society. What places the youths on the pedestals of all those seeking for somehting more is the simple innocence that some lose, and that others fight desperately to keep. The community of youths sometimes find that the only answer to the shackles of cynicism and chains of disillusionment, is an unceasing faith and a love that transcends human capacities. That is the power behind the actions of a friend i know, who in spite of his struggle with the pain of losing a relationship, continually takes on hte unenviable tasks of heading ministries and orgainizing events- a verse that reminds me of the confusion that Peter must have felt, and the trust in Jesus when he responded "where do we go, Lord, you alone have the message of eternal life".

Of course, one could say that i am painting too rosy a picture, blurring all the issues behind what each community faces. Yet, maybe that is the picture we must have in mind. It is from the Space station, the astronauts realise the green brown and blue that we call Earth, is something wonderfully pure and gentle inspite of what we might read these days on the internet. Sometimes a picture from afar is the picture we have always had, jsut somehow lost along the way. Are there problems? sure. But as a whole, as a collective identity we coin the "youths", can we ascend from them?

The late Pope John Paul decided to theme one of his World Youth Day messages on the verse "Do not be afraid". That is the answer to all of life's questions. Franklin Roosevelt said the only thing we have to fear is fear itself. J K Rowling said we can live life without any mishappenings by living in a protective bubble-but that is a forfeit on life by default. Henry JM Nouwen said, "can a firemen rescue a child in a burning building without risking his life or himself getting burnt?" Courage is the answer- to living an authentic life, following God's call or to simply be vulnerable in sharing one's life.

Looking at the world these days, is it easy to fall into some sort of despair? Sure- its swine flu, genocide, wars, eonomic depression; its floods and famines. Looking at ourselves it is also easy to fall into despair- its unfinished assignments, obligations as a friends, obligations as a child, obligations as a sibling, its the guilt of falling into sin, its the helplessness of falling into habitual sin etc. There is much out there that tells us we are lost. But as the song in Casting Crowns go, "the Voice of Truth, tells me a different story...(it) says do not be afraid". The church has focused on you, the youths. Because it believes that is where the lights of truth and peace, of joy and hope, of ideals still longed for, only waiting to be glimpsed at, will be brought forth, echoing the words of our Lord, "i have come to give you life, and life to the fullest."

Being a law student.

2009-04-14T19:44:00.007+08:00

It is not about being a lawyer- that is all acting, in the hope of some cognitive dissonance...and all that makes us is lawyer-ish. Not a lawyer. Get an LLB and get called to the Bar. Then call yourself one.

What law students really do is to instead think like one. Now that is where the fun begins.

First thing every student has to grasp is cases. Cases are nothing but stories that are being questioned in more detail. Did A intend to give B his property when A said "all this is yours"? Did C kill B in cold blooded fashion or was it an accident? Is it right to infer that Tom had the knowledge that Jack was cheating even though he did not actually know, but was only close enough to have known?

Second thing you have to know is that there are no unarguable truths. Even the proposition that "there is no unarguable truths" is arguable. Somewhat fallacious. But they are all points of view. And what is the essential truth arises from who is most dominant, asserts it in a most charismatic manner, that triumphs. Nothing cannot be critiqued. All standards are relative.

Which brings us to our third. Opinions do not matter as much as whose opinion. My personal moral stand however i argue it, is not and will never be as persuasive as a professor's. But his position is only as powerful as the attorney or lawyer willing to argue such a stand. And the lawyer's persuasion is categorized as Senior Counsel, Attorney General, or just one who passed the bar. Against those various categories, are arguments weighed. So on and so forth.

But what i will challenge above (again a reflection of how everything can be critiqued), is that analysis brings you a long way. The right issues bring out (the right grades) and advances positions. Asking "did A kill B" may not be as important as asking "whether it is for A to prove that he did or did not kill B". And the right chess moves, can get a pawn to secure a checkmate.
So that is the art of analysis engraved in a law student. Imperfectly for many..but it is there.

Speaking. Now this is a huge component. A quiet lawyer could very well find itself on the list of oxymorons together with "army intelligence" and "secular christian". It is not about perfect use of English. IT is about the precise use of English. Add in your "la-s" and "lors" that is ok provided you make perfect sense. And sense is the bulwark of all forms of communication. So with that comes the listening. Not just about what is said, but what is not. If the only paragraph that provided incriminating testimony was that " i saw him at the back alley with a knife", what is not said is in the huge realm of possibilities and with that your entry point to make a case.

It is about asking. Just why, why and why. Why is there the law against a director being in a position of conflict and interest, because of the duty of loyalty imposed on him. Why is the duty of loyalty imposed on him, because he stands in a postion where trust is being reposed in him. Many times you can bring it back to some notion of justice and fairness. At times the answer is circular. Why is the law binding on courts? because it is the law? Sometimes there are just assertions. Which you would ask why anyway.

Being a law student is absorbing a whole history, and trying to use that history for a current purpose- as a weapon, as a reformer, a revolutionary or to be simply a more eloquent and charming person.

We had a chat.

2009-03-08T21:52:00.004+08:00

We had a belated birthday celebration. At Angus House. Had Steak and sang a song. Went to test drive a car. And we had a chat. And i realised that i've missed chatting.

I am coming 23 and she's 24. We're one a year apart; i called her a bitch she called me an ass. Today, i saw a mosquito on her cheek i told her to slap herself. We laughed like mad after. I recall the last time we laughed like mad. She said the puppies looked like they were praying- all poised in one direction. The last time we chat, she was rubbing salt into the wound, i couldnt be bothered to reply her incessant questions.

And i know her for 23 years. I still call her a bitch and she still calls me an ass. And we talked. I tell her what i think about her profession, she tells me what she thinks about how i see myself. I tell her about what she could do with her time, she tells me how she feels about her friends. And i think about growing up. She thinks we grow more independent. I tell her sometimes its about commitment. She considers my lifestyle for a second; i put myself in her shoes for one. She tells me i am too hard on myself, i tell her she has got to get in touch with people more.

Catching up are 2 mundane words with extraordinary meanings. We take on the rat race sometimes, and life has got a pace on its own. Sometimes we slow down and others get to trod along. Sometimes we quicken and we get to meet people where they are.
But at that moment, when two lives meet, when two siblings stop their lives just for that instance, over a belated birthday celebration, without plan or agenda, as if it was pre-determined that that particular moment was carved for both of them and no other, catching up are two words infused with a sense of belonging. Catching up, at that particular moment, feels synonymous, with coming home.

what you missed.

2009-01-19T14:08:00.014+08:00

If you were lucky, you would have seen...An explosion, bigger than the Big Bang, yet gentler than any breeze, surfacing on those glassy curves. A phenomenon of insurmountable proportions that would capture the heart of whoever's fortunate enough to see; more fascinating that an eclipse, more spectacular than the pole's Aurora Borealis.

You wouldnt have learnt physics, but you would have known the laws of gravity. How it pulls to the centre, how everything that moves away gets dragged back by the invisible forces of attraction. How without it, the world falls apart.

You wouldnt have learnt art, but you'd paint better than Picasso. Her eyes glisten. A tiny shimmer at the bottom of her eyelids, exactly like the setting of the evening sun. Look closer, you'll probably find the reflection of her soul in them.

You wouldnt have learnt much biology. But in her eyes, the human anatomy gets confused. For just looking, if you were fortunate enough to look, would you feel, hear and taste.
For its in her eyes that she speaks and touches. She tells tales of desire, of happiness, of loneliness, - you dont have to look hard- it's there. Written in the language of movement. Movement of her eyes in the fluttering of her lids, and glossening by her tears. Thats only if you were fortunate enough to see...

You would know what heartstrings are. They are those intangible things called feelings that tell you the weathers of your day and the seasons of your year. And if you were fortunate enough, you'd have yours tugged; if youwere lucky enough to look through her eyes, you'd see the precious thoughts and secret gardens of fantasy and ecstasy. You'd see future and past right present then. You wouldnt know what happiness meant, just what it felt-its everything in between 'good morning' and 'good night'. Its the anticipation of a hand held, of a hug returned. Its the cleaning of a room that looked like the aftermath of a world war, to the watching of an awesome movie. Its in the having of barbequed chicken wings and the slurping of yoghurt. Its in the quiet sighing at sleep. If only you were fortunate enough to see...

an event.

2008-12-28T22:59:00.008+08:00

At the horizon was that ball of light that gave the earth its life, sliding down to let night overwhelm. In front of its rays were the reflection borne on waters so calm a soul could find its rest by mere looking. An enjoyable, lovely quiet.

The tiniest tremor, started a small ruckus that began as a mere ripple. The crescendo marked only what seemed to be a tiny squabble- a wave. Too banal to be understood or noticed. But that wave grew in ferocity, almost as a response to its apparent dismissal, in its search for significance. And in that second, it became tidal.

It headed towards the only place it knew would hurt- the coast. Innocent sand once looking to be swept off their feet, now only too afraid to be washed away. But nature has its way with things- the water roared against the rocks just before hitting the sand. Rocks that grew in the passage of time; the lessons of the world that stood only to make it more callous and cold.

Interestingly, the coast knew it was a part of the sea and would always be, the sea knew that it was defined by the coast and yet neither budged.

As with humanity, all conflicts end in some form of regret. The waves slowly lost its force, but gently knocked on the grey boulders of the coast for a way in. A resolve that seems to bewilder even the coast herself, she struggles to keep indifference. Memories flood as history reminds both how a part of their lives each other has been. And a clenched fist, loosens...

The sea spoke through the breeze in the language of want. More than desire, more than addiction, more than mere stubborness. A want that stays in the trials of despair and abyss of anger, a want that says we'll hold on together. A want that began the ocean and the land and the grey in between. The coast replied.

In remarkable fashion, boulders loosened from the soil, and the streams of the ocean trickled its way along the paths the boulders had made, in mixed emotion of gratitude relief and regret- and gently caressed the sand, hailing the end of the ordeal. And after what seemed like eternity, dawn approached, and rays stroked the sand, like a hand on the cheek of a dimpled smile; like a kiss on a teary eye; like a whisper of 'merry christmas' in the midst of a dance.

Of what it isnt.

2008-12-25T19:54:00.012+08:00

Sometimes figuring out what it is involves asking what it isnt.

It is human in essence, but not a body. If this is a body then we have no more freedom than the hand has over the head, or the leg over the muscle that pulled it in response to the tap on the kneecap. If that is the case, then there is no freedom and we are either all drones or mere reactions against actions. Nope. The body cant be it.

It is not really a musical score. The existence of a musical score depends on each note being precisely where it is, doing exactly what it should be. A minim if replaced with a quaver makes music become noise. Although we all have our purposes, the purpose for which we are gathered goes further than what we are specifically designed for. So, a musical score as a metaphor doesnt fit.

A jigsaw puzzle might be it? We complement -we make up for each others' shortcoming or that we begin where another ends. Where the metaphor fails is that people change. And looking at this as a huge mosaic fails to capture the fact that we are more than an aggregate of human beings striving to fit. All too, social.

A journey together is misleading. A journey implies a destination- so it is self defeating if the point of this journey is to simply journey, without having a destination. And it assumes that the destinations are the same, if the starting points arent the same, how firstly is the journey together? How, secondly, can then be the destination be together? The only way this happens is through force. Shove the others on that same bus, so that we can be on it together. And we know what force does. Every action has an equal an opposite reaction.

Director, actor, act. Choreographer, dancer, dance. In a dance, the dancer is in a way, the choreographer -she chooses the moves she makes. Its all about choice. The dancer is then both creator and creation, both painter and potrait, both actor and act. She moves from being calefare to being lead actor, from simply harmonising with others, to setting the melody for which other harmonies pursue. The dancer moves from background to foreground, and back. Just like how the spotlight moves from the individual dancer to the entire dance.

Lets take the act of crucifixion. The spotlight of humanity's suffering was shone on the bearing of scourges on one man. It is both light and reflection. The act placed human sin in the spotlight for the Divine Audience and divine salvation in the spotlight of the human audience. It reflects to the DIvine who man is, and man who the Divine is. Creator and creation. Saviour and Salvation. Both acts at once. Like the dancer and the dance. One cant do without the other, and one is the other.

If faith is in believing what we cannot see, then a dancer is an emblem of that- a movement in pursuance of a larger whole that can only be grasped by the belief that there is beauty in such.

old and new

2008-12-05T08:22:00.008+08:00

It is advent; and it is adventitious as it is a forgotten irony that the beginning of the church year starts at the end of the secular year. Does the secular old end with the religious new?

A child born in a manger; the crisis in Mumbai. The three wise men in their pilgrimage to whom the Star pointed would be King; a flood that left what used to be a home in ruins. A revelation to the virgin mother of the son of God; a new waterborne disease that affects the dehydrated indigenous in Africa.
And we ask whether what happened 2000 years ago, changed anything, anyway.

Yes there is. Meaning is what has made Change. The meaning of a child born who was set to be crucified on a cross for the sins of the world; the meaning of suffering borne on a "sheep silent to the slaughter", is where the secrets and mysteries of hope lie. For it is through this meaning, that a new dignity in place. A dignity that identifies with those who are lost and those who are in the pain of loss, for "by His wounds we are healed". The secular old does not end with the religious new. The New makes all the Old meaningful.

The advent of the Son of Man cant be understood without his dramatic end. For it is His end that retrospectively makes all that he has experienced meaningful. They say "faith begins where fear ends", i think that it is faith that brings meaning, and meaning gives light to the shadow that fear casts.

Meaning works on a continuum- from a stranger we meet at a social gathering, to the acquaintance we subsequently come to know at supper, to the community member that we had invited to, to the friend that we will come to cherish. Take a look around, the persons you know, would fall along that line somewhere. But meaning is not subjective, it is not only who they mean to me. But who they mean to God. Thats why we pray for the sick and the lonely, the destitute and they dying- even when they are faceless, even when we have no idea who they are nor what they go through. Simply because they are persons who mean something.

Christmas is about gifts. From the Gift of " a baby born one blessed night" to that unspoken warmth that ripples through the hearts of the old and lonely when a group of tone deaf young adults strive to sound melodious in a hospice, to the celebration of a friend getting married, to the ritualistic getting together on Christmas eve, if short of a better excuse, to simply be together. That's the gift one presents to another.

The old in the community finds comfort and hope in the new, whilst the new find meaning in the community from the old. The magic of Christmas lies neither in presents nor in eloquence nor in music playing nor in culinery skills. It lies behind the simple act of three old wise men, bringing all that they have, knowing that it falls far short of what is deserving, to pay homage to Him who makes all things new...

Doors.

2008-11-10T02:45:00.011+08:00

What lies behind is a reality that goes on without our control. It exists whether we open or not. My friend in the room carries on eating his potato chips, whether or not i see or am in that same room with him.

It is a no man's land between past and present, present and future.

A husband comes home, turns that knob and enters into a reality that his ideals of marriage has broken down irretrievably when his wife stands naked in the presence of a stranger. An african in a war torn village opens, to realize that as of that opening, she is now a childless mother.

And it is that same knob that first opened, held all the promises of a home. The vacant hall- his wife suggested that velvet sofa set to complement the walls; the dining room- he already foresaw his mother's china teak table occupying the centre. They laughed about it.

It is that same opening, four years ago, that the african decided that it is here and no where else that this child would be nurtured in. That he would be somebody some day.

By the simple act of unlocking, what was once, no longer is.

Yet vicissitudes arent without its share of fortuitiy. Ten year old Tom comes back from school to a birthday cake and the bicycle he always longed for. My dad comes back to see two exhilirated dogs trying to bark out the words "hug me". The expectations from the past conform to the realities of the present and nothing short of joy is being experienced.

The anticipation of a bridegroom as he practically begs, cajoles and bribes, to no avail, the relatives and friends of his wife-to-be to allow him entry; A parishioner, glancing at the confessional box, waiting for his turn to enter and to be granted absolution and comfort of He who died for our sins; an infant pushes against the uterus wall, his mother's agony to be received into the arms of a surgeon and expectant father; the door is where the present ends and the future begins.

And when we ask where something ends and some other thing begins, we ask also what is that door that separates life from death, childhood from adolescence, idealism from cynicism. More so, we ask what do we open that door with. Is it age or fate. It it choice or chance. A strange phenomenon we call life begins behind a closed door, when Andrew and Dorothy make love. It is behind a closed door, that Old Lily will die, holding her grandson's hand and taking with her to the other world a faith that she did good.

Hope.

2008-10-06T19:03:00.004+08:00

These days, all one has to do is look around, and he or she'll find a world of despair. Its not just wars, its economy, floods, famine, children dying, parents crying, people wondering when is their turn for food, others wondering when is their turn to die. We, the youths, maybe do not know these world events, but turmoil is still everywhere. In work and in play, in relationships and in friendships, in family etc. Look around.

And in the midst of that, is a bunch of teens trying. Maybe to find some friends, maybe to fill up some time, maybe to do something meaningful, maybe to find some meaning. I do not know. But you find something. Something gentle and mysterious, something creative and something enduring that says, " this is the place i want to be" that says "i am myself here" that says "i think i've found something here". In their search, they have stumbled on a paradox. That arriving and travelling are the same. That the destination is the journey. That in trying, you become. In searching you find. One doesnt take place for the other to happen. One is the other. The verb and the noun can be interchangeable.

They have discovered that maybe miracles arent when statues produce milk or weep blood, but when someone forgives, and someone trusts. They chanced upon the fact that apparitions and images in the sky perhaps arent as amazing as a friend, disappointed and hurt, going against all odds to believe. They are at those junctures where the driving forces of life can sometimes be destructive, but who locks arms with the other, to brave them.

And what that does..is nothing short of a miracle in itself. It is hope.

Maybe that is what leaven means. To be raised, above the muck. To be pregnant with possibilities. To be bread, multiplied. And it all begins by daring to say that "it begins with me". Like last sunday, when the familiar and the unfamiliar coming together to "taste and see" and maybe "remember". It began with one who asked "what about them?". It began with one daring to say "we need to open our windows, to look out, and for others to look in." All you need, is one.

Capturing a moment.

2008-10-02T22:25:00.006+08:00

It is her eyes, that

Captures, like a camera, moments onto that film we call memory.

"open the door.." i said.
And there, the first thing that i see, is her search. Her search that had both hope and wonder, that said "is it possible?" or "it cant be.."

Her eyes fell on me. A moment.

Badminton.
Walking, panting, sweaty and speech-weary. But she looks at me. And in that instance, her eyes whisper her feelings. A moment.

Finger at mouth; looking innocent; acting cute. Photo taken, phone snatched. Wrestled and tussled, ran and laughed. And her eyes: a ticklish irritation ; a worried humour; a playful disturbance. And maybe, just maybe, a remembering of what is it like being a child all over again. A moment.

Dreary, sullen talks. The weariness of life and the weight of the world shouldered. She looks into her phone and messages, and i stop her and take a look, again. A moment.

It is her studying now. Looking elsewhere. Looking all around actually. Anywhere but her books. Thinking and grooving to the music, her notes practically begging for more attention. And there she is. Aloof to the world. A moment.

And this is the moment where we compile all those moments and ask 'how did we get here'. As if Aphrodite herself commanded the greek gods of fate and time to plan this from the start, as if She had this grand cosmic scheme to get us where we are, right from the moment that i met her. And as if She already laid the future, in Cupid's arms, like a child.

It started with her.

2008-09-07T15:00:00.000+08:00

Her.

The gentlelest breeze against her brown sideburns, against a beige-pink surface, behind which a silver globe dangles. She pulls her lips back, and there a slow indentation into her cheeks develops, a phenomenon. And its quiet.

Quiet.

No words. Just feelings. No words to put to those feelings. Just one that we coined. "Demire".

We.

The use of a collective. The collection of memories. The memories that we crafted. The craft that began some time ago.

Time.

Forgotten the past, indifferent to the future, September seemed to arrive before August. Time remains that paradoxical mystery that reveals and conceals. Is there beauty in the concealment or the revelation? How will the story go?

Story.

Mud boy and Water girl, One waiting to be completed, one fears losing oneself. And time, time works as that proverbial double-edged sword: for its through time that Mud boy found Water girl to complete him, and its through that same time that Mud boy will wear away into sand. Time is the lens by which one looks at reality. Time is condensation and evaporation, vaporizing and cystallizing, losing and becoming. Time is looking.

Looking.

Looking at, or looking through, or looking for; her eyes move from a distant, to me, to the drink, to me and to that distant.

Her.

The gentlest breeze against her brown sideburns, against a beig...

Laughter.

2008-07-25T16:31:00.003+08:00

The guffaws that happened in kenny rogers, Genting, were a language that only we understood; for it was us who started and it would have been us who would end it- it was on a topic that came from an understanding that was unique to only those who knew him. And not many did for there are just way too many levels of understanding a person; whilst we constantly proclaim we know a person we only know something about that person, as if when we know an accumulation of things, we eventually come to know him.

The strings of laughter that echoed along the hallways of First World hotel merely represented the presence of an inexplicable knowledge of what one meant to another. For whilst one knows what the other meant, language in all its glories of literature would fail to capture that moment in its entirety, and one would simply fail to express all he or she felt at the overwhelming warmth at what we loosely and flippantly call friendship. Its precisely this lack of liguistic ability that we choose to indulge in what is ticklish with occasional punctuations of vulgarities- the refusal to take the boy out of the man. And that is deeper than any so-called sharing that one might choose to have with the intention of knowing that person.

Laughter becomes a testament for the oxymoronic concept called the "deep shallow". Who would call a laughter an action worthy of any philosophical reflection? Who would wonder about the depth behind a person's jerking forward and backward in utter lack of dignity and out of sheer response to a conversation void of anything that resembled meaning? Yet in dismissing this key instrument of expression, one loses the rich reflections that could be derived out of it. Whilst one can laugh with another, can one laugh to another? Like how one chuckles to himself, can one laugh to a fellow homo sapien? For the laughing to represents a knowledge of. Like how i laughed to my friends the stupidity that befell me, it was only a product of that knowledge of my friends that allowed me to.

And that opening one's mouth to release the sporadic, unintelligible bursts that on various occasions chokes one (which is why you sometimes hear people laugh to the point they end up coughing) and on other occasions suffocates them (those incredibly long strings of laughter that one has to force himself to stop in order to breathe) tells Ivan, Torrence, Desmond, Yiming, Linus, Chian Yee and me what 'wanting to be no where else' really really means.

A comparative moral analysis of Organ Sales

2008-07-08T16:28:00.009+08:00

The difference between a contract and a covenant is the same difference between marriage and prostitution- Scott Hahn, Theologian, Catholic Convert. Whilst one (marriage/covenant) exists for the good of the other, prostitution exists for the good of the agreement (prostitution/contract). It is in this fine line that maybe we can distinguish the morality between organ donation and organ sales.

This line i am talking about is highlighted in the example of a teenager's contribution to an old folk's home out of sheer generosity, and another's contribution to an old folk's home for the CIP points he would subsequently get. Many would think that the former teenager's contribution deserves moral praise, whilst the latter perhaps deserves to be frowned upon. If you have heard anyone including yourself wonder whether people involved in any form of altrustic activity are motivated by these tangible incentives, you would know what i mean.

Organ donation, like the person helping out for sheer generosity, like what the institution of marriage was conceptualized to be (the heralding of this symbolic giving of one person to another) is premised on the good of the other individual. That, as what many would agree, is what makes organ donation good. One gives life to another for the sheer sake of the other.

The intention behind organ sales is completely different. One gives oneself (in Kantian terms the body is part of man's personhood, and that Man's body is a subject and not an object for which one possesses, which means that the manner in which Man uses his body is inherently tied to the moral assesment of himself) for the upholding of a contract. It is not so much the use of money here that is an issue- one could return the generous favour of organ donation with a heap of cash and that would be morally permissible; it is the formulation of agreements between 2 individuals that one's body (or part of) could be used by another. This is where the moral blur is.

Let me attempt to throw up this moral dilemma with this hypothetical of three men being in a stranded boat and dying of hunger unless one would sacrifice himself for the other two (this is an American criminal law case of R v. Dudley and Stephenson). Seeing how none of them were willing to be meat for the others, they decided to enter into a verbal contract letting 'fate' decide- they threw dice. Now obviously someone lost and that person was subsequently eaten. Would one justify their actions by saying the person 'contractually' allowed it? Or would an argument be that it is fine because 2 men survived as a process? These could be utilitarian arguments, but if one put on his moral lens, he could not possible conclude that killing him as a result of either his consent, or so that the other 2 could live was the morally right action to take. It is in that same line of thought that Organ sales should not be allowed even though it benefits some other, and even though there is consent, because morally it is still not right.

A senior writer from Straits Times have mentioned that the morality behind the intention and morality of the act are two exclusive concepts. That is not completely true: in America, doctors are allowed to increase the morphine dosages for the purposes of easing the patient's discomfiture, and this is not criminalized even though a certain side effect is that the patient's life is shortened dramatically by the morphine use. However, if the intention is to end a life using morphine dosages, the crime committed is essentially murder. The moralilty behind two similar actions is judged differently by intentions! The intention to have sexual intercourse for the purposes of human procreation (sex within marriage) is dramatically different from that of financial gains (prostitution) and the moral take on both actions differ as a result.

One would think that even though the goverment has legalized prostitution in Singapore the moral opinion towards prostitution has not been exactly a very liberal one; it would even be startling to know that quite a number believes that prostitution in Singapore is illegal! That is the conservative mindset that we still have, and maybe a reflection of our moral take on the issue of how one should use his or her body. So where it comes to Organ sales, the take should logically be the same as well only if we can swop our utilitarian lenses and put on lenses of morality.

The Law's faith in Faith.

2008-07-04T10:54:00.005+08:00

The common law works in this way- nothing is being touched by it, until an incident which results in a trial judgment expands the current law further to include a certain scenario. What do i mean? There was never a reasonable man test, until Lord Atkin and his neighbour principle came in. With that test, came in the notion of a reasonable driver...and then what a reasonable contractor should do, and further on what the reasonable actions of a doctor should be so on and so forth. The metaphysical impositions of tort law started first with a principle, and with each case expanded to encompass the actions of persons in different walks of life, and today, the law seemed to have entered into the realm of the clergy as well.

And thus the notion of the reasonable priest. What a priest would or should do in a case of an exorcism? If he did not check whether or not the person was suffering from a mental condition prior to carrying out the exorcism ritual, would he then be seen (by the law) as negligent? Whilst the priest's defence was that all he did were saying some prayers and that no such ritual actually took place (and thus no need to check whether or not she was suffering from some mental illness), the plaintiff's lawyer went on with the notion that as long the alleged evil spirit was expelled through the actions of the priest, exorcism would have taken place. So, put it into philosophical perspective: in the course of this trial, the innocuos and intangible actions of a prayer gets pulled out of that spiritual relam in to the conceptual analyses of the law on negligence.

Where does faith and the law collide? Does it seem ridiculous that if a person's faith was exercised in the wrong protocol, and that had affected a person's emotional well being, the law should 'come down' on him? Hypothetically speakin, if person A in saying a prayer did not mutter certain words that according to the authority of religion must be said, and such actions somehow or another affected person B's state of mind would there be such a law that says 'you had better pray more completely the next time round!" We can stretch this to a point of ridiculousness, but the idea is the same- this trial is a reflection of the law's qualifying the unqualifiable, the conceptualizing of a person's faith in the language of the law on negligence.

Whenever we touch on the idea of faith, we somehow allude to the fact that alot of it lies in what we can neither see nor touch nor even feel, alot of that lies in what maybe escapes logic. Faith and the law thus conflict when logic makes its attempt to become 'unescaped'- when the law says that logically speaking, as long a dialogue with an 'evil spirit' takes place, some form of exorcism must have been carried out (by sheer definition of the word 'exorcism'), regardless of the rituals that a priest must have undertaken. Prayers for deliverance, in very simplistic terms, is a subjective activity. The observation is subjective, the belief in the prayers to expel the certain spirit, the person's relationship with God are all subjective. Faith is premised on such subjectivity. Thus when the law's attempt to be objective actually kicks in, and the question of how the faith was exercised and whether or not it was done in an objectively right manner, we can almost anticipate the head on collision.

I am not saying that the law should not intervene. I am saying that the law should not attempt to make tangible what human logic finds inexplicable.

The Moral Duty to Read.

2008-06-21T01:00:00.007+08:00

Whilst Jodi Picoult brings her audiences into the darkest pits of human tragedy, she spiritly lifts them up with sensational heroism displayed in the quotidiary actions of a mother or a lawyer or a police or a judge or a sister making inconceivable moral sacrifices. The beauty of human transcendence thus becomes encapsulated in about 560 pages. And that is a glimpse.

And a glimpse is all what we need,really. If the eyes are the windows of the soul; and like a plant in a dark room that requires light for life, our eyes have become the means in which the soul finds its light for life. What can that light be, really?

As Francis Bacon says, its Reading that maketh a full man. So through the eyes of Jodi Picoult, one becomes a child struggling with sexuality; the eyes of Khaled Hosseini, one experiences the vast depths of human unforgiveness and the paths one has to go through for liberation; the eyes of Aldous Huxley, he is plunged into the world of utter enslavement. These glimpses throw light on the soul, literally and metaphorically. For reading lucidates and reveals simultaneously- the reader learns and reflects, a part of him is left with the character, the other part of the character becomes forged within him. And this paradoxical dynamic that takes place is really what gives rise to the most noble of human ideals- compassion, forgiveness, sympathy, empathy. Should i be required to even emphasize the need for such humanity in a disenchated world?

At the top of Maslow's hierachy of needs is self actualization: the need for morality, creativity, acceptance of facts, spontaneity. As reading feeds the soul, it provides the intellectual platform for such needs to be fulfilled. For the cliche that knowledge is power isnt without its merits. Creativity begins with plagiarism as according to Friedrich Nietzhe, and what can one really parrot apart from the knowledge that he currently has? The best Man is to be, begins with the acquisition of knowledge. And reading thus becomes the well in which Man must drink for the intellectual soul to be quenched and satisfied with truth. What is the connection between reading, truth and power? Reading reveals truth. And as the saying goes, "by the power of truth, i whilst living, would have conquered the world."

Aesthetically speaking, we paint our world in only so few colours from the palates of our intelligence. Yet, the shades of grey that often keeps us from leaping to our self righteous conclusions often arrive in the form of a text. Either a satire or a lyric; either through the lenses of the great Oscar Wilde or the quixotic Milan Kundera. Those are the moral quandaries that keep us thinking. And as far as Descartes goes, to think is to be. The philosophical freedom that language promises, is a journey that the intellectual must embark upon. And that begins with the first word of that first story book, be it Fulton Sheen, Platos' Symposium or plain simple Nancy Drew.

Read. For life. And for Life.

What holds us together.

2008-06-08T21:26:00.004+08:00

There is one problem with rituals and traditions (apart from the fact that we struggle to find its meaning after a while): it makes us perfectly fine with the status quo. It is the perfect excuse to refute change and challenges, it is the guise one uses to indulge in a skepticism of sorts (when you hear "it is the way it's always been!") one stops searching for answers to questions, but stick behind the rigid past of habits as the solution when in fact, it is the problem.

MSC experiences this in a very very tangible way today-we are tuned to turn up on tuesdays and sundays (or saturdays when there are sessions) and AGMs. The basic commitment, they call it. One that is so necessary that they'd have a pledge to entrench these fundamental demands within each person . That is all well and good.

Just that we arent so much friends in community, more than club members- the way we pay our bills every month (like how we turn up for sundays every now and then, to assuage our nagging conscience), the way we use the club's gym and swimming facilities (like how we occasion ourselves to pop up for sharings at our convenience), the way we use the studying room when the exams draw near (uncannily similar to how we seek a spiritual companionship to dispel the dark dryness within?). The assault of habits on the meaning of community has won in certain respects- we are so involved with our daily turn ups and commitments to our projects we've become completely indifferent to the vacuums that make us strangers; we know more about what it means to be in community, than the "each other" that makes this community one worth commiting to.

A community that focuses on what is common, is no different from a clique. What makes a community different from a clique, is its ability to challenge and accept, to reach out and care for another. It is my opinion that fundamentally,. quinessentially, what distinguishes a community from any group that the secular world has to offer, is its ability to care. When that is lost, we jusdt cant help but ask "what then is the difference". So question is. Have we lost it?

"Friendship is like the trees we plant in the backyard; we always want to tend to it, we just leave it to next week."- Jerry Espenson from Boston legal. I think care/ friends/ community must be used interchangeably as words that express our relationships between each other; that underpin our ideologies, and however you want to debate this, you cant deny that these words are ones of feeling. And as far as feeling goes, I feel as though MSC is just made up of individuals. Not friends. If care is the yardstick at which i use to measure friendship, then fair enough, maybe we just dont care enough.

As i am part of the community, i understand that this comment bounces back to me as i say it, but how can we deny the glaring irony that we're knowing each other less and less? That whilst tuesday sessions allow some of us to speak from the heart, one leaves the session room feeling more lonely than ever. For when one shares, one leaves behind a bit of himself or herself and whats left from that part of him or her, is now a gaping hole. The hole is not filled by the comfort of a person who will be there, for there is none. The only words that significantly acknowledges this person's existence are "sorry i have alot of things to do, another time maybe."

And we've all become fine with it. Why? Because talking has taken the place of being. We no longer are there for someone, we only say we do. And this is why people leave. When people find out that this place that stands for persons being free to be themselves and accepted for it, has become anything but that, it is no wonder that they seek their niches elsewhere. Sure, our metanoia sessions has taken a great deal out of us when we render our services to the young adults of our parish. But i cant help but wonder, what services do we render to each other, apart from services of the lip?

So yes, maybe we need a pledge. For remarkably, that is what we've come down to.

Shouting at the Sea.

2008-05-26T14:25:00.006+08:00

At Australia's shelly beach is a man shouting,
Against the vast oceans of nothing.
THe irony is that a man has found his voice amidst the thunderous roars of the waves against each other
And like his life in microcosm, the man has found that his life parallels the chaotic view of clashing waves.

And he shouts.
He sees that there is something hypnotic about the ocean; like a seductress calling out to him, asking him to plunge into the the unfathomable and unknown, the formless and uncontrollable;
for it seems this man's troubles can only be matched by the uncompromising waves and deadly currents;
the same currents that whilst has been executioner for some, has been liberator for others.
He shouts like there is no tomorrow and the powerful seductress consumes his voice with the cymbals of waves against rocks. And in that comes a spectacle.

Does the beauty of nature inspire literature? or does the power of literature reveal the beauty in nature? In that short span of half an hour, that man is presented with the forces of nature like none other:
A peace in a distance;
a chaos in an instance;
a voice calling from without;
drowning the terrible loneliness from within.
There this man finds the beauty that language can hardly encapsulate, and truths are drawn from him:
What he wants and what doesnt,
what he fears and what he advocates,
what he loves and longs,
what he misses and dreads.

And he is caressed by the breeze, as if the ocean had life of its own,
as if the ocean knew.
And there is a barter trade: for in exchange for that tiny ounce of this man's life, comes a measure of peace.

Why did ivan cry.

2008-05-23T19:53:00.006+08:00

"you just call out my name, and i know wherever i am, i will come running...to see you again. Winter, spring summer or fall, all you got to do is call...and i will be there (yes i will). You've got a friend." This was the song Ivan teared to when it was being played at his 21st birthday. And as usual, i will psychoanalyse what has in fact transpired that resulted such a flurry of emotions.

Ivan cried because the song was meaningful- with that i mean that the song's lyrics and his life experiences had converged; a certain truth had been enunciated that ivan felt himself assenting to i.e very simply he understood what the song was about and he agreed with it because he had experienced it. This is a classic example of where the head meets the heart. Ivan had understood the song; he had a past experience that coincided with the song's lyrics or music- and what was in his head (the memories and the comprehension) travelled to his heart.

Proof? The crying.
For emotions are the heart's histrionics; its theatre- to display and to perform and to show. What makes this so interesting is that Ivan had taken what many philosophers deem to be the longest journey in life (from the head to the heart) and provided us with lots of thougts to ponder over: The meaning of meaning. And that is the treasure isnt it? For it is said "where your heart is there will your treasure be". The travelling of the head to the heart, to find meaning in a world that offers anything but meaning, amidst the banal and the boredeom, has become quintessential to our being and becoming human. For what is knowledge of compassion without the emotion of sympathy or empathy and the subsequent act of charity? The concept of compassion remains in the metaphysical realm of ideas without the instrument of emotion/experience, it isnt real wihtout the subsequent act (of generosity or charity) that proves the concept exists. What is knowledge of happiness without the emotion of lightheartedness or assured-ness? What is peace without the emotion of stability and an ensuing inner confidence?

So when ivan cried, something was made real- the warmth of human friendship. The gentle touch that affirmed the other existed, and was cared for. The living proof that the overtly romanticized ideas of love does exist. The assurance that a person's life had not gone by unnoticed. Being touched (whether by an act of kindness, or gentility etc) is exactly that: a discovery of meaning. Not so much meaning of one's life more than a meaning of life's details: like friendship for example. And being touched is a moment of grace because it occurs without Man's choice: the mind remarkably opens its gates to let the thoughts flow into where Man is made and paradoxically becomes alive.

Running.

2008-04-27T22:13:00.005+08:00

What i will dwell into, is what some might call the psychology of running. The basic motivation behind running- why does a person (or I) run.

People run for 2 reasons. They run to something, or they run away from something. There are no other reasons that are more basic to this.

Running to- literally? to lose weight, to grab that championship or baton, to look good aesthetically, to be challenged, whatever. Take it one step deeper. A person runs to a destination because that is a microcosm of what life has been about. The very words "pace of life" suggests walking and with speed. Running is then a metaphor of what life has been about, and what life is going to be about. The paper "chase", the daily "run" of events, the "motion" of life, are all movements that in some way or another, we are a part of. Running, is man's theatrical display of his life is a short span of an hour- that perseverance, motivation, disappointment, that shortness of breath and that fatigue that all gets to us, that achievement and endorphin rush that seems to give life its meaning. So why do we run? Because we want to express ourselves.

I think Sophie's world gave me the idea that somehow the world was a stage; or that the greatest comedies were those that reflected the true realities of man mosttt honestly. Looking at the caricatures and political rhetorics or satires, there is huge amount of truth in this theory actually. Now that being said, when it comes to running, it is useful to see it as just another form of display.

Running away? Well that has its metaphorical allusions to the world as well doesnt it. Adrenaline is what gives rise to a "fight or flight" situation (namely when one faces fear); that same hormone is being produced before one embarks on a run. Running in some sense is liberating because of the fear it exculpates. In that short burst of 100 m, one enjoys the sanctity of freedom of mind, away from the hustles and bustles (i would even go so far to say that in that short 30 secs, man can experience what buddhists call ZEN), and it is the perfect medium for connecting with God. Because that is when one is completely free. He is neither held back by the chains of reality or illusion, nor the shackles of ambition and self-consciousness, he is not held back by the test tomorrow or the work due next week. He is free.

They say "be still and know that i am God". Really? Perhaps that is a level i have yet attain. But my point of view is completely in contrary to that- i think Man experiences God when he is going at his fastest. The times i've sprinted (ok well to many others, that could just be an equivalent of their jogging), I can testify it was nothing short of fantastic- there is some sort of philospical "wipe out of thoughts" so to speak- there's first whatever is on my mind and that is gradually erased by the only reality before me- the run. At no point in time in my life can i say that i have had so much focus on a single aspect.

I perhaps have given escapism a whole new meaning. What maybe i am trying to say is that, it is within man's capacity to find his freedom. Whilst i might have found a glimpse of mine in running, it should challenge the reader of this blog to find his.

I.N.S.P.I.R.A.T.I.O.N

2008-04-09T21:39:00.005+08:00

For all those who are having their exams, and all those who are about to, this post is for you.

afflatus \uh-FLAY-tuhs\, noun:A divine imparting of knowledge; inspiration.

Afflatus is from Latin afflatus, past participle of afflare, "to blow at or breathe on," from ad-, "at" + flare, "to puff, to blow."

What is the beginning usually like? We start with no clue whatsoever on what the topic is, reading it once or twice is perhaps insufficient; there are the more interesting things to do, better storybooks to read, the enticing allure of that snack and of course what could possibly be more tempting than the seductive comfort of the bed and the nap. At this point in time, you've only started facing the reality of studying.

At actually getting down to it, you still have no clue, but you know that well, you had better start finding out. So you spend 2 hours on a question that you think would have taken your friend 15 mins to accomplish. You call him up, he gives you the answer in a second. You experience the pleasure of understanding somehting, finally, but the agony of knowing that you are that far behind. It is at this point in time that work makes all the difference.

Consider the fact that there is simply no time to give up; consider the fact that whilst you've had mediocre grades in your previous sem, this sem is yet another opportunity- and whilst realistically speaking it perhaps might not give you the grade you believe you deserve (maybe your expectations is something that we should be discussing!) this exam is still an opportunity to prove that you have it in you.

Then, afflatus steps in. What you didnt know then, you sorta know now. How do you attain this? Well, Edison's formula works quite well. 99 percent sweat and 1 percent genius. Of course, works needs to be done. But there will be some divinely inspired light on the subject, some angle at which it all makes sense. What your lecturer said in the past, that you've had hardly any comprehension of, begins making a teeny weeny bit of sense. For that is the breath of wisdom whizzing past your intellect, giving it a fresh perspective and greasing the rusty hinges of the mind and opening up the door to elucidation.That is the beginning of understanding. And that is where your destination comes into focal clarity (be it A, B or C).

The patchwork of information, those vast heaps of notes that you memorised will then begin fitting into its respective places. That formula, with that lecturer's comments, with that dean's lister's notes, coupled with the tutorial, gives you a grip on what is going on. And that grip....is everything. That grip on the foundational stepping stones of your education is the exact grip you'll need for the examinations. For in all the lectures i have attended, there is always that same emphasis on basics.

What is studying, really but just a re-digesting of information? Studying requires disection of materials, of asking questions and being patient for the answers. It is an intellectual quest for whatever ends. And Afflatus is the daily impetus to digest that material. It is not easy, we can all admit that, as students. However, what separates one from another, is not so much intellectual abilities, more than inquisitiveness. It is inquisitiveness that will give him that grip and that same inquisitiveness that divides the A from the B.

But its fascinating isnt it? From being ignorant to being informed. The intellectual stretch with every equation solved; the affirmation of every right answer; the satisfaction of each comprehension..is where the joy of studying is. And that, is inherent in every single subject, be it pharmacy, chemistry, engineering or law. The stretching of the mind not only to memorise but to assimilate, to determine what is relevant, to acknowledge which formula goes to solve which question is a journey for which everyone has embarked upon, not only in the beginning of education, but the beginning of life! For an engineer, like a lawyer, like a pharmacist, like a doctor asks, "what works?"

"i do not know" should NEVER be a stumbling block. Our knowledge for subjects is humblingly finite (and alarmingly so, in the midst of exams). However, our capacities for acquiring them, isnt. And if you can find that deep-seated joy in the simple activitiy of studying, you'll see that studying becomes more effective, more worthwhile and the grades you expect will definitely become feasible.

a tough lesson in humility and sensitivity.

2008-04-02T19:52:00.002+08:00

Interesting how in the past 2 days i have managed to piss off 2 friends in school successively, effectively. The experience was nothing short of gruelling.

Friends in school.
I have quite a few of them, yes. But we display a different kind of sincerity, a different kind of communication, maybe a different kind of senstivity altogether. Whilst i had that 'chat' with D, i realised it is not easy to ask for understanding, nor is it right to. In fact, sensitivity demands that nothing should be asked for, only accepted. Not only that what was done was wrong, it has nothing to do with what was meant and sent, only what was received. And that took alot out of me.

S, pissed-off-friend-number-2, asked me "i dont understand why you have to keep this wall around you by being annoying". Deep; and when S said that it seemed as though there was a slight glimpse of an offer to understand me. Or so i thought. Nevertheless, it was good advice.

Whilst i can be all psycho-analytical about this, i guess i realised that there are persons to me who matter. Even in law school. Strange as that might sound. And to have upsetted someone who is isnt a nice feeling. Especially when reasons become excuses, any more offers of explanations become "explaining things away". It is a difficult lesson to learn, and maybe the utmost necessary. To watch and learn, observe and listen, speak less and hear more.

Cant deny at how irritated i am at this-a part of me asks "what the heck is wrong" another part of me says "well just work at it you know"; another part goes "crowd-pleaser" and yet another part mutters " human dynamics" and the last part sighs " oh man what is happening". And i guess i roughly know what is, in fact, going on. What i am learning is not new i guess..just interpersonal skills. Something that if i actually acquired in church, i dumped in the army. And when D said "dont push it" with every question i asked (and this is one of those few situations where i tried to tread very carefully), it was like in a field of landmines, a step too much and something blows.

To give a little background info: For S and D i always thought we communicated differently (maybe as time passes i'll come to learn that there are more ppl i communicate in the same way, but for now i think its just S and D), its usually a lot of teasing alot of hilarity, little things that are serious but i just thought that was the way things worked. Guess i was wrong. It just isnt. They are looking for respect and compassion and i am guessing that whatever transpired only showed that i have anything but.

And this is wreaking alot of havoc. It is confusing as it is frustrating, especially in the midst of important tests and events. Especially since i am going to be at closer working proximities with them and most importantly because i think they are friends worth keeping.

And so, yes this is a tough lesson to learn. And i think i need to learn, between my pride and the friends around me, who or what is exactly important.

screams.

2008-03-23T17:00:00.004+08:00

The metal tractor moved towards the fire. On it is a wooden casket and flowers laid down from the ceremony held fifteen minutes ago. And about 20 metres away, behind the safe confines of an airconditioned hall stands a crowd.

The mechanical slide towards the fire displays a complete nonchalance to the screams that echo not in the halls, but an individual's soul. The choir sings "Oh God you search me and you know me" a song meant to comfort, but what comfort can there possibly be. The unfathomable depths of grief is not shared, but witnessed. There may be about 50 individuals there..but perhaps 1 bleeding heart. And that is the paradoxical nature of loss- tears that of your own, but the grief that of everyone's.

Time does not stand still. It moves backwards- the screams are of memories, of a love perhaps never uttered, a relationship maybe never explicitly acknowledged. For the rest of the crowd, with each second that passes and inch made towards the fiery grave is a speechless farewell, for who can say anything. What words would suffice. But the crowd does speak- they utter a language of hugs and tears, of hands over shoulders and of heads bowed, of hymns and prayers.

Someone asks, "where did she go...where did she go". There are no answers. Only screams. The crowd is deafeningly loud as if to drown out the equally deafening silence of sorrow, the unanswerably silent "whys" and "who" and "where". Like a roller coaster, the crowd screams to exculpate that plunge into the void-for where there used to be a person on a chair joking and nagging, jovial and playful, there is now only that chair.

To Accept.

2008-03-07T22:03:00.003+08:00

There are the doormats, those who accept just about what everyone instructs; you have the fatalistic, accepting what nature and gods have in store for them; you have the resigned, accepting of the inability to improve; the cynical, the acceptance of the impossibility to improve.

It seems as though it is so easy to accept. Do what they ask, say what they tell, believe in what they preach. Just Accept!

As a rule articulation, the only thing a person can accept is that he is never accepting what he needs to accept. A doormat needs to accept that he is a doormat, as a fatalist that he's one, a cynic that he is cynical. Perhaps more than that, a person must learn to accept reality. And that reality, is what EVERYONE avoids accepting because it is simply too difficult to.

Alvin's left. And while i am pondering over what i am feeling, i realise the key to this internal pandemonium is real acceptance. Let me say that again jsut for amplified effect: REAL ACCEPTANCE. And lets discuss that for a second.

What are the various realities that one must come to accept?
1) That he is leaving.

2) That he is leaving because he cannot stand being in the muck anymore.

3) That he is leaving, permanently.

Lets look at (1). This presupposes that he was in the community and that he has chosen to leave. The person who is aware of such a reality that 'Alvin is leaving' and that 'he was in the community' must at some point in time consciously or subconsciously ask "what do i feel about his departure" It is at this juncture that acceptance may begin kicking in:
I face the loss of a community member, i begin to accept the fact that in his words "our friendship goes outside the walls of this community", i understand that there must be respect for that particular decision. All this is bombastically termed "maturity" which is a big word used to handle the simple concept of "acceptance".

Yet, we are just wired in such a way that the first reality isnt sufficient. We are angry, shocked, surprised, bewildered... We ask the next question and perhaps the only one that we believe can give rise to a more qualified and justified expression of our feelings. We ask "why". Which brings me to (2).

Of course, i've summed up his reasons very simplistically. This discussion is not for the finding of truth in his reasons. This discussion is for the acceptance in the truth of those reasons. And that acceptance, i believe can be found in the grasping of reality. What are the way things are?
What are the way things are like for Alvin?
And perhaps the most sympathetic question one might be compelled to ask, if i were him, would i have done the same?

These questions DO NOT suggest that a person might accept those reasons. These questions are already in themselves, a form of accepting. Why? Because im trying to understand and feel. I am trying to be him and human. That is why that is REAL accepting.

(3). The most hard hitting fact. The possibiltiy that he might never return. In fact, in my opinion, he isnt returning. But the accepting of that particular fact is different from (1) because (3) does not give reasons. (3) simply demands the individual to make a speculation and that is very subjective- based on hte individual's relationship with Alvin, how well he/she knows him.. There might be variations as to how different ppl might accept (3) differently. However, one thing can be certain. The permanence or possibility of permanence of such a departure demands an acceptance on our part. Why?

Firstly, because there is nothing a person can do about it, but accept it.
Secondly, because of the severity of such a statement- that it is the end of our journey, that all we will share from now on are memories, that we will only see what is left. The emotional upheaval that can arise from the presence of such realities can only be mitigated by the acceptance of them.

So you think accepting is easy?? Think again.

A Spiritual Life?

2008-02-24T00:32:00.003+08:00

My friend and i had a conversation once about miracles. He was trying to make sense out of this phenomenon of "levitation". He said something along the lines of ,"i read somewhere that there is a certain way to explain levitation. It is that when those spiritual gurus get into that state of mind, they operate at a different frequency from that of the world's..." it was alot more profound than that, of course. But basically he was trying to make a physics argument.

Today's discussion wont be so much a physics argument more than a well..spiritual and hopefully intellectual one. But it kicks off from the sentence my friend left us with- "a different frequency from that of the world's." While we use the word "world", let us assume that it means the secular (since that is the language we tend to understand).

The life of the strangely spiritual.
A different wavelength from that which the world operates- an image of Spring and rainbow, of endless meadows and golden sun. Of great literary images that no langugage can completely encapsulate. A state of being that transcends the ordinary; because the ordinary is one that is chaotic. The transcedence lies in the order that the state of being creates- one that cannot be found without, one that can only be found within. Peace in the abyss, silent and holy night.

The life of the sordidly secular .
A peace in a foreseeablely certain future. A hope entrenched in reason, behind the calculation of probabilties and possibilities. The firm stability of logic and comprehension; and the serenity of the rationale. Literature is an instrument of pragmatism and life is bound by the laws of cause and effect, demand and supply. A state of being that is governed by the responsibilties and consequences of choice.

The above 2 paragraphs give a very concise and debatably inadequate account of 2 different philosophies..and to make the discussion easy, i've thrown it into two extreme ends, for us to maybe work out where we actually stand ( i am guessing we slant towards the secular and will move even further into it, if not for the gravity of the spiritual).

Yet, you can see how life works on a different plane for different philosophies. Why even a physical observation or an inquiry into the science behind 'levitation' can have such profound answers for us. What i believe is that there is a gradual movement of each individual in his or her life from one extreme to another. And the resorting of balance, meaning the amalgamation of both philosophies, is quite debatably the perfect example of how Man have de-evolved.

Movement:
The life of an individual begins with strange spiritualities: one of complete creativity, hardly any rationality, one bound by necessities and one of complete humility. That is the snow white innocence of an infant.
Rationality at some point in time kicks in, with that the Adam's apple of practicality and logic is eaten. These set the parameters to creativity, the leash on mental flexibility and the glass ceiling to spirituality. The ominous onslaught of education kicks in. The rat race begins.
One will not know when spirituality ends and cold hard pragmatism begins. But life takes on a different dimension. No more the genuine smiles and the warm hearts. No more the hugs and selflessness. No more the candour and honesty. In its place, is a chess player's mind- calculating, anticipating and manipulating.

Amalgamation:
This is the incorporation of the spiritual and the secular. Whether or not being spiritual is in itself a form of secularism, or secularism is an attribute of spirituality is not the purpose of this discussion. This discussion is to make the observation that Man as we know them, walk out of the realms of spirituality, and then into the land of the secular, and then live life in this organised chaos- the no man's land between spirituality and secularism. Coming to church? only on sundays. Helping the community? Only when its convenient. Donating money? Only as far as it assuages my guilt.

And the anthopormorphic expectation of Man these days, would have dropped dramatically. Without surprise really. For no words like "pretense" and "facade" have been used on Man as often.

The spiritual life demands so much more actually.
The living on a different existential plane, not void of reason or logic, but where reason and logic brings one to the notions of faith and hope. A faith and hope not immersed in the pragmatic confines of comprehension, but a faith and hope that liberates. If life itself were to serve a particular purpose, it would be for a purpose that is so huge and perhaps incomprehensible the only instruments that one could use to accept or view would be faith and hope. And spirituality, is the platform for which one attains that. A different frequency from the world...

You CANT HANDLE THE TRUTH!

2008-02-12T23:46:00.002+08:00

ersatz \AIR-sahts; UR-sats\, adjective:
Being a substitute or imitation, usually an inferior one.

What does it mean to lie? Hiding the truth? That would be an omission to tell the truth, a non action. Telling a lie is a verb- a positive action. A lie is simply this- a replacing of a false reality in replacement of the actual one. A lie is an ersatz truth.

For purposes of this discussion, i will not dwell so much on the varying half-truths or whole lies, i will discuss instead on the reason behind such lies. And the aftermaths. You will soon come to discover that points 1 to 3 are all related.

REASONS:

1) Why a person lies is perhaps the same in some sense as to why a person steals- he cant afford. He cant afford seeing that truth straight in the eye, he cant stand the scrutiny of such weight truths tend to have and he cant bear to see his castles-in-the-air crumble.

A parent tells a child that he is not the reason behind their divorce; a general tells a soldier that the road is shorter than it looks; a husband tells his wife his heart longs only for her; a brother tells a sister that their deceased parents moved to another country...there are simply tonnes of examples to show why and how people have been lying. And the common thread that runs through all these examples is quite simply this: lies are the beautification of a hideous reality. A leper's masquerade.

2) Life works on the premises of such lies. That unfortunately, is the truth. A religious minister goes up to the pulpit to speak about his convictions- can he also express his own doubts in the search of his truth?

The myanmmar oppression of education and press shows one thing- we dont want the truths in our face. Truth had such a bloody history- the truth of communism as a possible means to end suffering gave rise to huge revolutions, the truth of sunnis oppressing shiites resulted in enormous civil unrest, the truth of tutsis and hutus in Rwanda gave rise to the genocide, the truths about hurricane katrina lead to a furore against the Bush administration, as did the truth of the Iraq war. Truths just doesnt bring peace. Truths simply antagonise.

The newspapers, the tabloids, any form of magazines portray "90 percent bulls***" according to Denzel Washington in Training Day (obviously not the best authority to cite), and the sensationalizing of a story takes precedence over the reality of the matter. Tact is considered over candour, form is preferred over substance, lies matter more than truth.

3) Lies are a necessity - We need them like we need our home and our stability, our comfort and security. We live by lies! We tell ourselves things we want to hear, we read the books which put our realities in an infinitesimally insignificant manner and we hang out with people who play up every falsehood possible. We indulge in things that take us away- the books, the movies, the friends, the fun. When you were small you must have had superheroes- they were the lies you took up to make yourself invulnerable. When you are older, you take on the persona of another character- a person you admire? a person you love? And that mask that you put on at parties when you entertain all and actually feel like you want to be left alone? All that arent truths. Those are positive actions done as ersatz truths.

And relationships. We start with lies, we end maybe because of them. We start with the lie that this person, that place, this particular community is perfect. The illusion that goes over our eyes is a result of a certain transaction- the audience wants to be fooled, and the performer wants to fool. What the hell do i mean? I mean that the boyfriend wants to look perfect, the girlfriend wants to believe he is. The lone desperate teenager wants to look up to an ideal community, the community wants to portray its infallibility. Its a butter trade really. The fools wants to be fooled.

CONSEQUENCES:

Sadly, when lies give way to reveal not truths, but half-truths, the consequences are devastating. We build our lives on such shaky premises all the while keeping our fingers crossed that these foundations dont give way. When they do, they take away...well, everything. A child whose image of his dad is unattainably ideal is destroyed on learning he was adopted. A child who has her mother as her role model crumbles on learning she was a drug addict. A spouse discovers to her horror that her husband is half as ambitious as she thought he was.

We live by lies to lie. Is it too simplistic to suggest that life is but a lie? That life's purpose is to lie? I do not think so. I think in fact that when Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men replied in all vehemence, "you cant handle the truth!" he was voicing out a timeless eternal reality. The reality behind a lie.

Translation of a chinese song

2008-02-03T16:29:00.001+08:00

Wanted to do this for a really long time now. One of my favourite chan 8 serials.

"When i am misunderstood, i keep my silence.
Silence is my form of rebellion.
When the world forgets me, i move past alone.
Peace seems to actually be a myth.

The enemies' arrive, the friends' leave.
When love becomes a burden i am not able to relieve.

I am not the silent lamb, i have words to say.
Give me some wine, i'll find the courage to cry.
I am not the silent lamb, i have my dreams too.
When the sun rises tomorrow, i'll be shining just the same.

Even the lamb can cry, silence is a form of strength.
Are you the same like me? Learning through reality?"

Guess guess guess...what chinese serial was this song from?? haha winner gets a prize.

CANDY'S perspective

2008-01-31T12:31:00.001+08:00

Today it was different, i didnt have to sniff his hand to wake him up. The toilet smelled funny and i was peaking into it..and just suddenly he noticed me. Telepathy! haha either that or i just smell weird.

My chain got stuck this morning. I panicked and cried. And then i heard them talking about me, about how cute and adorable i am, and how i happen to be the naughtiest they've ever had. I like them talking about me. I'll grab some leaf and snuggle up to them. The one with the long hair plays with me all the time. Once i start gnawing on her fingers, she says something like 'stop it'..i dont understand, i think she wants more. The one with no hair comes back rarely these days. Got a shock when i saw him. But he still smells like him..and im not letting the other 2 get near him. I am the precious gem of the house. No one can take my place.

And of course, the one who is up in his room all the time. I visit him occasionally with that tattered blue ball or with some new exciting object i picked up from the grass- you know these objects just keep getting my attention. They stick out like a sore thumb and they look yummy..i think they like to play. If they dont, at least, i will be making the garden abit nicer. He will pat me on the head and tickle my throat..i dont understand him sometimes..he says "give me your hand". I have no idea what that means. Does he want me to sit? or stand? put down his exam script? He then takes my paw and say "handddddd".

I love my life.

A G M

2008-01-19T17:07:00.000+08:00

The most exciting part of the year isnt it. Where community members purport to be involved and passionate about plans they dont seem to care about subsequently? Where ideas are thrown about, toyed with argued..and when it gets too tiring (which by the way, the record has been for about an hour and a half this year), we end up taking a vote.

I enjoyed myself at this year's taking down notes. These are the notes i took down and yes, this phrase was coined by Reader's Digest but let me use it anyway: Quotable quotes. Thats right- quotes so unbelieveably profound or hilarious that i feel some sense of obligation into putting them down.

Colin, " purest of intentions may not be one of God's will". Profound i wrote. That was during his half an hour prayer marathon where we had to keep silent for i dont know....a little too long.

"Vision doesnt change, but mission changes." - Kenny. Well, that is something i better remember. But how do i do that? I mean COME ON, we change missions all the bloody time. Take today for instance, we were voting on whether or not we wanted to uphold a certain structure we agreed on one year ago? To me its just really really funny.

"Youth. Question mark."- Kenny. Well its just idiosyncratic of him to use the word 'question mark' to things that he is not too sure on. Quite a distinctive feature of him i would say. Probably the only thing that distinguishes him from the many other faces and voices in the room.

"We're more gifted than we think."- Marie. Well, for teaching, as i suggested, we are as gifted as we think. Or maybe more? Hard to imagine that though since we put ourselves in the ranks of geniuses.

"we must see the BIG PICTURE in things."- Colin. I found this hilarious. Its like that will be the opening statement to any of his arguments and well the best part is that he seems to suggest that we are one myopic bunch of toads not knowing the world is a bigger place than the well we live in. Maybe thats wad visionaries do. Or charlatans.

"It would be NICE if we had more information." - MelTan's comments to Metanoia proposal. A reflection of a thorougly uninformed ignorant and aloof community doesnt it.

"huh plan? What plan?"- Mel Tan's response to whether they had a plan as to where the ministry was headed. So meltan.

"Are we just a knowledge library?" - Fang Long's question to what teaching ministry is. He is damn good with these analogies, metaphors, pictorial depictions of concepts. And frankly i loved it because it seemed to be controversial.

"Fang Long you talked about CHEMISTRY."- chemistry-enthusiast colin's reply to comments on relationships. I saw Alvin and Joshua looking at each other knowingly and guffawed. I was amused.

"Will it be me?"- Alvin's imputation of what Meltan thinks about during core election.

All in all it was rather titillating. Had an argument with Joshua over who should do canteen when he suggested that i do it because i bitch the most about canteen. Please, its ridiculous. If i did it, there wouldnt be food. I am not even willing to provide food for free, ask me to organise some event in which people bring food for free? You must be kidding.

And so he ended with " Ah eat your crap la." The perfectly christian way to end a conversation isnt it? Oh well actually that is a good suggestion.. if i actually talked some crap about canteen, i believe it can actually sell man. Make it satirical or something. Im sure will be able to profit.

And of course the climactic showdown of whether or not we should have re-elections this term! Gee i never would have guessed that could be smth so contentious. But of course, after a while, people felt that there was no point talking about this anymore. Why dont just vote.

So what is a community? A bunch of people talking. And when the talk gets tough, the tough gets voting. A perfect democracy! Oh i forgot and one that punishes! See, we cant bitch too much, or compain too much, or well analyse too much because that has consequences! BItch about canteen? YOU DO THE NEXT CANTEEN. Bitch about coming early? YOU BUY BREAKFAST. hmm we should have one where if one talks too much, he should stand at the corner and pull his ears. Structure, eh?

A Perfect Sunday

2008-01-07T00:15:00.000+08:00

What is a perfect day? I think it is one which you wish it would never end. Heaven in microcosm; ecstasy encapsulated in a matter of hours.

Today began at 7.30 in the morning, church prep and speaking to the young persons of the parish for the upcoming forum. As much as i was worn out by the late night jog the day before, there was a sense of urgency and motivation in the participation of this "recruitment drive". Managed to interact with the returning L.O.G members and those entering the army...

The morning picked up with that and the climb was propelled by the fact we had a session which was chaired by the cell group leaders. Something rather unprecedented, and fresh. And perhaps more significantly, Janice managed to bring the sharings to a deeper level- we discussed 07 in more spiritual and perhaps psychoanalytical candour and our hopes for 08 in an equally candid atmosphere. It was for me, a glimpse of a life giving sharing.

I passed, on the usual afternoon lunches with the Comm and instead decided to join mel for kway teow soup lunch, seeing how this will be one of the last few lunches we could have before he begins that new phase of "boys becoming men". And as always, the simplicity of that event, was enhanced by the food. Kway teow soup is one of my favourite home cooked food. Couldnt have asked for more.

Went online to chat with this new girl i met, Denise. A girl oozing with personality, who doesnt like having someone know too much about her, who doesnt like exposing her sad or angry sides, who has an infectious laughter, who got drunk on wed, and who clearly has some sick fetish about her juniors. She gave me a list of movies, which i in turn sent it to my dad in indo to buy.

Well, after that, i concussed on that newly purchased sofa- the one Candy and Brilliant would be skinned alive for should they even attempt to chew on a pillow. Doesnt say alot about that conversation, though.

Then a run at east coast. Didnt stop and there was that couple i was competing with. Dinner at C.Nai HongKong Restaurant and a laugh that perpetuated the entire journey home! Mum with her jokes, jie with her "is this Help me Let Go?" and my usual caustic remark of "that sounds like someone commenting about shitting", the singing together of some song that has 'Maria...You've got to see her' for chorus, Mum's randomness... so on and so forth. Even Aunty Anula was laughing along.

And the day ended with a movie, the way my perfect day would, really. And not just any movie, the day ended with ' The Pursuit of Happyness'. An oscar nominated, true life story of Chris Gardner with an exceptionally talented Jaden Christopher Smith as Chris's son. Poignant and encouraging was the theme that the movie left us with, a sweet desirous taste to end the night. The whole fam watched the show together..and i do not know how other families function or where they enjoy each other's company, but to me, this was what it meant. A sweet desirous ecstasy.

2.0.0.7

2007-12-27T12:09:00.000+08:00

Taking stock, and posting it out for the world to see..

In order of significance, obviously.

1) The birthdays! And stuff we did
Chian Yee- bought a cake from Big O
Torrence- made him a scrap book
Ivan- Was the emcee and made him cry with 'That's what friends are for'
Yiming-Collage? Picture frame?
Desmond- Scrap book
Linus- Karen and i made him a mega humongous collage with photos collected all the way when he was i think 3 years old.

And for mine? Hmmm.. mel and jie made a scrap book too, with notes collected from friends everywhere..and i mean including those overseas too!

2) The interviews, and the subsequent admissions into the schools. Not for a llooooonnnngg time have i felt like i am doing what i am meant to, and enjoying it.

3) US trip. With Linus, Chian Yee and Desmond. Helluva fun...and perhaps most memorable trip i ever had. Las Vegas, Universal Studios, Disneyland and of course...the talking cock. haha.

4)The new friends made, of course. Yvonne, Siew Chi, Rachel, Andre, Rizuan so on and so forth.....and of course not forgetting Krystle.

5) Yeap, the old friends, rekindled. Beginning with the marists, and ending with certain persons in the comm.

6) Rejoining MSC? yea it could stand for one of the greater things of 07. That and becoming teaching ministry head, although as stated in previous posts, how tt came about was via a pathetic excuse of an electoral process.

7) ORD-ing. Getting the hell outta there.

8) Becoming friends with her like i've never had. Bestest BUTTS. Always nice to call someone in the middle of the night, to bitch and to whine and to nag...and to share. :)

9) The movies and books. That took up about... a quarter of my time this year, perhaps? Best author award goes to Khaled Hosseini, supplanting Jodi Picoult, with Kite Runner as top read, and Perfect Match trailing closely behind! Movie of the year? Well to be fair, how about movie-s of the year?
Fracture, Ocean's 13, Hula Girls and alright, Transformers.
With the movies came the blogging, and with that, the free screenings! I am/ was a movie writer! Ha how about that man.

10) And of course, not forgetting the sports camp, pageant...and subsequent activities. The friends made, the Queen, and yeap the good laughs and fond memories that transpired out of sometihng that became a little burdensome.

Well done, 07.

Let's see what 08 has to offer.

D.E.A.T.H

2007-12-08T01:38:00.000+08:00

I have not blogged for about a month, and i think that there is a prevalent theme across these few weeks and that as sadly or as morbid as it might sound, is this theme of death- the glaring inevitability in life.

It started off with an article on euthanasia in which one of the more prominent quotes used was- ' if death is such an intricate part of life, can one so desire death as he might, life?' That was mind blowing. And the perfect way to begin an argument for the use of 'sympathy killing' or 'pulling the plug'. Then, Henri Nouwen's remark about the epidemic of Aids, that 'people so desire love, that they choose death'.

Then it went on to a spate of wakes. Yes, a spate. First a platoon mate's asthma attack; then, the dragon boating incident. Subsequently, 30 plus year old church volunteer whom i got acquainted with about 2 years ago in a mission trip. The shock is not with the death, as unreal as that might in itself be, but the age in which this lives were 'revoked', 'returned' or ' extinguished'- the choice of words necessarily boiling down to each person's philosophy of life and death.

Their lives and their families' with them, came to an abrupt, screeching and perhaps unceremonious halt at the tender age of 20-30. A young adult, a person exploring the deep recesses of his or her soul in play, work, love, knowledge, games, sex, belief, pain, joy, forgiveness, hate, trust, betrayal. An age where potentials are stretched, characters are built, where a person comes into being. It is an age, where the last thing one could really think of is that this same number used to encapsulate his experiences would be inscribed on a tombstone.

And in these wakes, i've come to see an overwhelming reality of how people deal with deaths. There are 3 ways in which a person might come to consolation on another's passing. I shall deal with this in some detail.

1) The past- the life in which he or she lived, the memories this person had shared with his or her friends, the treasured moments and special gifts of laugh and joys that could be simply summarised in any eulogy or testimonial beginning with ' i remember'.

2)The moment- how long and how painful was his suffering, to the knowledge of doctors and experts. Families and siblings, friends alike, take a certain comfort in knowing that the deceased did not suffer. That the death was instantaneous. It is a very complex state of thought, i would imagine. The identification of what pain is, the identification of loss (death), the transcendence of that identifcation by the knowledge that although there was loss, there was no pain.

And yet, the question really is, is there true comfort in the knowledge of the instanteneity of death? Say one should suffer from cancer all his life only to be relieved from it, in the form of a passing, would a loved one take any less comfort in say a person who died immediately from a head wound?

It might be impossible, if not completely inhuman of me, to actually quantify grief.
However, one must come to terms with the fact that grief exists as an indisposable element of the human condition. And that is simply because, death is.

Thus, one need not quanity grief so much as to understand it. There's no better way to understand it, than to experience and to observe. Points 1 to 3 are observations that might shed light.

3) The future- heaven, nirvana, reincarnation, eternal bliss, the meeting of God so on and so forth. Religion becomes imperative at this point in time, as is the need to belief that a person is not 'gone' but merely 'away'. 'Gone' implies permanance, 'away' implies the temporary. 'Gone' implies loss, 'away' implies 'he'll be back' or 'till we meet again'.

It is easy to slide into cynicism by viewing points 1 to 3 as mental constructs- that grief is a mere psychological defense mechanism. However, i do not think mental constructs are reasons for cynicism- if anything, it should only lead us to discover more about humanity, and the human in the individual.

In all honesty, i hate going for wakes. i feel that i am completely inadequate in either grieving with, or in consoling with the deceased loved ones. More importantly, i feel an overwhelming sense of guilt- that i did not know this person enough ,that i did not like or love this person enough, that i've become cynical of this person all too quickly..so on and so forth. And i fear that one day at my own burial, i'd look around and see the faith in my innocence lost in everyone. There are tonnes of things that surface in a wake. A wake, awake.

In a wake, i am also confronted with something that behooves me. The possibility that i will be attending a loved one's passing in due time. Will i then be grieving for the loss of this person, or for the loss of opportuinities i could have had with this person? Would i be grieving because i'll be missing him or her? Or will i be grieving because i've missed out too much on his or her life?

In my verbiage, i've forgotten the most primal comfort to loss- the crying. I remember some time back that i experienced an overwhelming relief in crying. That emotions become crystallised in the form of tears and the shedding of those tears a revealing and relieving of such emotions, is in my opinion, a fascinating albeit queer discovery about us.

People do that all the time..and its ironic that in my pursuit of being a complete human, i am not able to cry. In my experience, a person is stripped of all need of image when he cries and that being said- he becomes so human. He is neither a student nor a friend, he is neither a soccer player, nor a brother, he is neither an employer nor a father- he is only, solely, evidently, undeniably human. And that is precious, isnt it?

When was the last time, someone came to you in the capacity of a human being? Not as a friend trying to seek advice, nor a parent trying to give one, nor an employer with instructions, nor as a sportsman with competition..but as a genuine person whose only intention is to be another raw, vulnerable beating heart whose only and biggest consolation provided is just that.

Maybe, i need to be human, after all.

The Youth of the Nation

2007-11-08T14:05:00.000+08:00

Let me give you my take on Young Adults.

I think there's a certain governance amongst young adults, an unspoken assumption of authority that all young adults yield to unconsciously. This is that of the age.

The age governs the young adults. This is an age of blogging, an age where the newest ministry is not of the fine arts, but of Sound, an age where we are measured according to what we wear and where we shop at, an age of decadence. This is an age of computer games, an age of escape, an age where violence and entertainment mells into one, where hedonism and libertinism becomes the new god, where masochism blends in with sadism, where there is a thinner and thinner line between crying and laughing. This is the age.

I think the young adults, wherever they are, yield to this authority of the Age. And of course, there are certain perks to this "Big Brother" doesnt it. You get accepted, you become popular, the girl you like takes a second look at you, whats there not to like??
Not only are the perks attractive, they are a force that not many cant stand up against. Look to the movies, its there. Look to your friends, they are walking apotheoses of the notion " just do it". Look to education, and you get people who stand by beliefs and people who are martyred for their ideals?? Ha.. Right.

BUT what exactly is the age's main thrust? How does the age "hold" onto the minds and hearts of teenagers? What is the general principle, that this age, uses to build its onslaught of "kidnapping"? Who is the pied piper of this age, who blows his flute and draws all to him?

Kierkegaard deals with this aptly. He proposes the first sphere of existence as the one most people are caught in. This is the sphere of the aesthetic. In today's terms, it'll be called the shallow, the superficial and the bimbotic. You see, the age has no authority and can not draw people to itself unless there was already something inherently wayward. The church calls this concupiscence. I'll still stick with the term "aesthetic".

Our aesthetic appreciation is a virtue. Where it becomes a vice, is when this appreciation becomes a need. A need for the aesthetic. And no it has little to do with our conception of beauty, it has ironically everything to do with someone else's notion of beauty.

With that pandora's box, comes out a whole vista of ideas that entrap the young adult's feeble and un-principled mind. Today's notion is not to be the best you can be, but be the most beautiful that you can be. Mirrors take up more space in a shop than the clothes or wardrobes. On an educational level, an intellectual aesthetic is being sought- only one who has a brain will make it, and hardly those who have brains, ever have spines. Lets look at people's hair. Its becoming more and more flamboyant isnt it. From black, to brown., to blue, to green, to yellow to purple. From straight to spiky to permed to curls??

But i think theres a weapon of mass destruction that this age has unleashed.

In hall you have this thing called " f*** buddies", its almost a trend to 'do it' there. And i think thats a new facet to this age, and probably its strongest assault.

It used to be called a relationship in the past. Now i think we should settle for the term 'accessory'. Something that we can do without, but something we wouldnt mind having. Its not how madly in love is he, but how good in bed is he. People are becoming more and more creative in the bedroom, you can almost make a museum out of the gadgets, devices and methods people use. The young adults have lost all notion of sanctity. And now its permeating like a virus. The idea of what used to be a sacred act, has been utterly and flagrantly desecrated. Now as thio li ann says, its no longer about a moral imperative. Its about the penetrator and the penetrated. And behind all this is that inherent aesthetic need that yearns to be appreciated.
What is it to be vain? To have someone's eyes on you. Doesnt matter, who or how.

Where is all this leading to? Oblivion.

Of course, the age would offer a cure. A pedicure.

ELITISM

2007-10-24T17:57:00.000+08:00

I had a discussion today and i made a somewhat 'unconvincing remark' on the privilege of being in law school..so i will expound on that, and convince, if no one, myself at least that there is no place one could possibly want to be in.

What is it you look for in a profession? Lets talk nobility. The place where you can evoke change, the one position that allows you to make the world a better place...this is the throne of the politics, the niche of the lawyer. Where a comma breaks a sentence, and a fullstop completes it. Where 'and' and 'but' gives meaning to the millions of people under the law, and any addition or removal of particular words changes mentality and attitudes. Take the recent s 377A debate for example: a matter of words, governed by a few people, who chooses whether those words stay or those words go, and the rest are bound to those words. So the question is, who are these people that governs these words? THe public?? No. Neither sociologists, nor engineers nor teachers, nor psychologists, nor historians. Its the lawyer. Unlikes the sociologist and the psychologist, he is the one at the forefront of the battle, the soldier at the frontline. He is the one whose word gives meaning to society, whose punctuation dictate how lives are going to be lived, whose arguments determine whether a person's rights stay, or leave.

Let's talk about the challenge of the education and the excitement that comes along with it. I cant speak much about the profession since i am not acquainted with it. However, lets evaluate a few courses, and lets compare.

The engine course- well, if you like angles, maths, physics, calculation, this will be the perfect course for you. You become practical in an abstract sense. Everything comes down to a formula, and what goes into that formula must produce an answer that you expect. The engineer becomes the engineered- a mechanical robotic hint of a life unable to appreciate the abstract or the arts. They are people who things must make sense, who are governed by the laws of Newton, who are so entrenched into a life of digits and decimals, they become the proverbial 'square'.
Only a select erudite few manages to grasp the more important things in life. What are these more important things? Haha go meet an engineer, you'll be able to figure out what are these things. Everything that doesnt interest him- those are it.

Lets look at the Science course- other than desmond and a few who aspire to be teachers, and maybe janice who's convicted about saving the environment, the rest are people who choose this course by a manner of elimination. Either they dont know what they want, or they cant be bothered, or simply, their results dont allow them to do anyhting else that sounds remotely interesting. The challenge of this course is well, hard to imagine. There are complexities and alot of things to remember, probably. I can imagine the people in this course have tonnes of activitiies elsewhere. Is it because the course fail to provide satisfaction? Or is it because the course is simply that- another course in a whole course of dealings, another eventuality void of meaning or purpose?

Let's look at the arts. Personally, if i wasnt doing this law course, i probably would have joint the arts course. This is the closest to what i deem as relevant to Life with a big 'L'. The life of society, the life of communities, the life of individuals, the life of Man. Anthropology, psychology, history, philosophy, geography, politics... It is the heart of society. It allows man to ask themselves how did they arrive, why they act and think the way they do. This is one of the most pertinent questions to be answered isnt it? But what about the challenge? I think the challenge and if any, excitement in handling this course is in the observation. The scrutiny on demographic trends, the peek into societal and economic dealings and the consequential shaping of mentalities. There is a certain fun in that, i can imagine. But like i said in the 2nd para, i rather be in the heat of it.

Now we can go on and on, but i'll just be pissing more people off. So to mitigate the situation let me just say this. That i am not saying that there is one more necessary profession, that there shouldnt be the existence of other courses or other faculties. I am just saying that there is a reason and a good enough one, to why people attach such prestige and elitism to law school and lawyers. I am saying that there is a reason why there is no where else i would rather be, and that although i am doing like shit in school, i am still motivated to be the best that i can be here.

I am also saying this, if you can do law, do it. No shit it is difficult, i mean i am a science student and not exactly the most articulate or erudite, BUT i think it makes a difference to your life, and way you think. I think you learn how to be a socialite, an intellectual, a competititor, a debater, a writer, a designer. I think you learn how to communicate and mediate. I think you learn how to be a man of principle and to fight for them, and to be willing to fall with your philosophies. I think you become influential and charismatic and i think you get a good peak, a bird's eye view of the human condition. I think in law school, you become a person who matter.

Law school. All the way.

TODAY

2007-10-20T03:23:00.000+08:00

Friday, 19th of October.

One of the very few entries pertaining to my life, and the way i spent it in a day.

Morning, managed to do some mugging, and then had to go to linus's place to collect the damn soccer ball for Cage match in the night.

Went to school early for Law Camp OGL interview. i thought i handled it rather fine. Could have done better, definitely- the same sentiment i had in all interviews. But no huge blunders, as what happened in medicine interview. And for that, i guess i am grateful enough.

Then, torts tutorial. Fordham was great la. As usual, her whimsical cynicism perpetually perks the class up. Ane everyone i think aspires to be as quick witted and brilliant as her.
I tried posing what i believed was a rather smart question. Hhaha turned out got the basis of that question wrong. Wasnt embarrassing though cuz i thought that well at least i thought of that right. haha...anyway just to remind myself what that question was : in a hypothetical that follows the fact pattern of Fitzgerald v Lane, where Pf is 50 % liable for the damages suffered, but then he suffers damages at which now Df is 50 % liable as well, and the amount they are claiming in damages are similar ( i.e 5000 dollars), wouldnt it have the same effect as one party being completley contributory negligent? Which is the case where both cant claim. "

After that, i came to Kent Ridge to fetch LOSER. haha but its damn fun still la. And she kinda cordoned off her entire evening to hang out la. Quite touching. haha but then right, just as the afternoon was going so hilariously well, she just had to accidentally step backwards, and practically transferred her entire body weight onto her foot, which was right on top of my small toe. Like what hte hell right, if she was wearing high heels i would probably be having 4 toes now.

LOSER and i watched The BRave ONe. And Jodie Foster is a damn reliable actress la. Haha i htink 'suave' and 'woman' doesnt go together. But i rarely see actresses carry off such confidence and cool-ness in their characters, other than maybe meryl streep. ANd the storyline is kinda jodi picoult-like- where the lines blur, what is wrong and right, and how many wrongs can make a right, the serendipitious twist at the end etc..

Then went to play cage at kallang. Hmm not bad i would htink. Didnt score any, but had a few good hits. And that for a soccer amateur, does deserve a good pat on the back, definitely.

Went for dinner/supper= dinper, supner? Anyway on the way back in the car, had lotsa fun and lotsa great laughs. One observation i make about these friends, is that i always forget what happens with them- clearly nothing realy serious happens with them. But then again, thats what so amazing. Its like a comedy series. It just goes on and on, and as much as u know the story lacks substance, its one hinged on the ideals of friendship, and made entertaining with jokes.

haha anyway, i came back and got into a huge arguemnt with my friend over not including this other friend in a birthday present. So anywya as much as i thought my point across, guilt got the better of me, and i went like at 2 am in the morning to pass him materials to do the work for my freinds' bday. DAmn tired gotta go to bed.

2007-10-16T17:45:00.000+08:00

my OBSERVATION

Mass Media: practically non existent. The lack of leadership or the refusal to take up leadership begs certain questions. An inferiority for such a daunting task? A refusal of ownership in the community? Or a simple case of far too many commitments? But then again, dwelling deeper, those people who have taken up the role of leadership have truckloads of work, so i am guessing that there has got to be a deeper reason. Perhaps the lack of enthusiasm of the community itself. I dont know. But observe hard enough- you'll figure it out.

Teaching Ministry: 'we're peope who think, not people who pray'. That kinda sums it up doesnt it? And yet i think we have done a pretty damn good job considering our arid and insipid spirituality, and personally its interesting how people who are in it, are all somewhat gifted in this aspect of teaching...in my humble opinion of course. Regardless, the teaching ministry has been forward looking and optimistic about things to come. Thats an enthusiasm yet seen by many others.

Music Ministry: I will give credit where credit is due. Sadly, credit is due to a select few. If its a reflection of the leadership, perhaps that is what should be worked on. But they have forked out time and effort in leading worship every week. And for that, i think they do deserve the proverbial pat on the back.

Special Projects: In my mind, this ministry feels like a subsidiary. Not exactly the essence of the community, but definitely not redundant either. This ministry feels more like a close knitted cell group, having more social and prayerful activities than any other ministry, if i am allowed to say that. And perhaps that is in itself is a good enough raison de'tre. I wouldnt know. Nevertheless, i have faith in the leadership.

Core Team: the one subjected to the most scrutiny and sometimes well, the most persecution. To tell the truth, i am so inclined to lash out against the individuals, but then again, its at the Team that i am evaluating. And personally, they give the perfect ying to our yang- the spiritual balance and discernment the community needs. I think this is a dedicated group striving to work for the betterment for the community- hello ,they went for a retreat specifically for this purpose. When was the last time anyone did that? And there are a good mix of idealists and dreamers, of realists, of pragmatists and architects.

So all in all, if you want to consider the community as one huge organic entity, with the spirit of God breathing reason, faith and grace into this huge mechanism, with each ministry being each essential organ, we do look alright dont we?

Well, here comes the sad truth. ARE YOU READY?

For many of us, we're immersed in an environment of competing influences. Ambition on one hand, relationship on another, we cant grasp God, much less his community!

Insecurities on one hand, inferiority on another, we are so stifled by our inadeuqacies that it makes more sense not to deal with it.

The influence of community is really as large as your concentration span. Outside sunday, outside tuesday(for those who even come), community is an idea, not a reality-as is the influence of it.

Oh perhaps its not true for you and i am mistaken, grossly. A negligent attempt on my part and an utter facetious remark void of any substance or basis whatsoever?? Well...ok list down your priorities in life, and get back to me again.

With that let me just share with the anonymous internet community my purpose in community. i am the leader of the teaching ministry. i am the lex luther to the superman, the joker to the batman, the villain to the hero. A pompous way to justify myself, definitely. But regardless, purpose is borne out of necessity. And at this point in time, there is a need to be the iconoclast ,an imperative for a vindicator. Without temptation, how can anyone know he is holy? Without the human, can anyone experience the divine?? Is it possible to know what you have got, without experiencing loss? Sometimes its the vigilante that exacts the real fair justice. I am that.

You will not know inspiration, until you know desperation. You will not know enlightenment, until you know disillusionment. You will not know conversion, until you know condemnation. Lose yourself to find yourself? When you know how to die you know how to live?

Its about time someone did something radical.

2007-09-30T16:15:00.000+08:00

Misdirection.

Houdini was it? He wanted to make something disappear, so he employed this technique- let your eyes see what they want to see, and let your ears hear what they want to, and thats it you believe.

Create a direction, lead them on to believe what they want to believe. Like the matrix. And from there, you keep your deepest darkest self. ( i read faaarrr too many jodi picoult)

I think colin is right and I am scary.
But you have just got to admit...i am getting so damn good at it.

How do i shut the door? Misdirection. It is not about lying. Lying is about not speaking the truth. Misdirection is about telling all the truths in bits and pieces. Telling the truth that lets one draw the eventual conclusion which is a lie.

Its not about being hypocritical, believeing in one thing and doing another. Its about acting- believing in something and saying another. Its about theatrics, what you want people to know, and what kind of a puppet master you want to be.

So perhaps the end of this question is, why misdirect? why let someone see you the way you arent?

Because of what i said earlier. They want to see what they want to see. They want to believe what they want to believe. Jodi Picoult illustrates this with candour and courage- a mother doesnt want to know that her child is vulnerable, a daughter doesnt want to know that she was kidnapped by her father, a parent doesnt want to know that her son is the perpetrator to the loss of a hundred lives, a husband doesnt want to believe his wife is dead.

And when they hope, Demosthenes will tell you that there is a certain precariousness..since as St Augustine of Hippo puts it ," can one not believe what he hopes in?"

IN ENGLISH-You wanted to see something and know something so badly. So i will just show you that something.

Thats the construct of belief. The leading down a certain direction, and at the end of that road is a question of choice- to believe or not. And more often than not, we already know what you are going to choose.

You are going to choose what suits your moral code, what is fitting and what is to your liking. What is pleasant to your eye, melodious to your ears, and gives you the right dosage of endorphine to make you feel all wonderful and gay.

And thats perfectly fine. I mean thats how people proselytise, and convert. How people judge one another, influence each other; how cultures and eventually societies are created. You basically bend people into showing what you want them to show.

I will show you what you want to be shown. I just ask one thing.
Don ask me be what you want me to be. Because you cant and because i wont allow it.

Diagnosis, Syntheis and Prognosis.

2007-09-19T11:36:00.000+08:00

DIAGNOSIS

Whats the diagnosis of the problem community faces? Lets list them down. Essentially, i think i will classify them under these 2 headings.
1) Commitment
2) fundamental differences of vision of community

Under commitment, you have issues like lack of fervour, lack of spiritual development ya da ya da.
Personally i think that this is not so much aproblem of community as it is a problem of society (which is the community at large).
It reflects the mentality of an age where the emphasis is on the fun, the excitement, the lack of obligation..a certain hedonistic libertarian like culture. And at the route of it, is an individual unwilling to stand up for any beliefs, make any form of sacrifices, reluctant to put himself aside.

You have commitment problems when people have one foot in and another foot out (not excl myself of course). When you have people with the excitement to begin something, but lack the stamina to see it through, when you have those who love to speak, but those who hate to live, when you have mediocrity..you have a fundamental commitment problem. But they and i can tell you that the problem isnt with commitment. Commitment only reveals a greater issue:

The issue of a fundamental difference in perceptions of community. Let me list down the extremes. There are those fixated on the past, the fluid structure-less nature without imposing standards or expectations on each individual. And yet inspite of these lack of establishment, people were more involved and 'on fire' so to speak. The other extreme is equally fantastic. That is the school of thought which i come from- we begin from where the community is. Forget where we were, forget where we want to go, the essence is the here and now- how to 'sway' it in the right general direction is the key to move it where we want to reach. Of course, its not a watertight argument.
I think the right method is in the synthesis of where ppl want to go, where ppl were and where ppl are.

SYNTHESIS
The bringing together of past present and future. The balance of what we were, where we are and where we want to go is rather essential in the crystallisation of the concept of community. When i looked up the definition of vision, i chanced upon the definition of illusion. Both seemed to me to be strikingly (and horrifically) similar. BOth involved some abstract concept, both dealth with what wasnt the present, and when you think of the two...you inevitably ask yourself "where does vision end and illusion begin?"

When does belief becomes bluff? I think there must be a certain root in community to avoid having this. This 'root' i speak of comes from the day to day exchanges, the meaningful overlapping of lives that i've become wary thinking of, this active engagement of activities and ministry that allows one to understand the human concept of community. This grounding in the people's lives is what prevents anyone from floating into the abstract, of painting ideals only to be disillusioned by a humbling reality.

PROGNOSIS

The question then must be the how. The practical means of achieving a certain form of a solution. What did Jesus do, what can be done etc etc. I think there are various forms of how that are equally ridiculous for reasons that are quite obvious. BUt for sake of discussion i will list them down anyway.

1) An absolutely charismatic leadership. This suggestion comes from an observation that people need a certain influence and force to persuade them in the right direction. The problem with this is that the absolute leader you need is in the bible, and if that is not persuasive enough, then its hard to imagine what could be.

2) Change oneself. This is a very attractive concept. Light in the darkness, salt of the earth, change must come from within, inspired by example etc. It is noble and at times it might even seem that it work. But if we are to move community in a certain direction, i think we need more than just "you can be that difference"

I think the key to this must be ..WHY would you be that difference. Looking through a certain political speech, i really marvelled at how people are only going to fight for somehting if they OWN it. Like national service, you arent fighting for the country, you are fighting for that which you hold dear- your loved ones, your property, wadeva. I am inclined to use that concept.

What stakes can people have in the community? I suggest giving more weight to the ministries, giving more ownership in the community. Its not enough that people have a vote at agms. I think they must be responsible for something. And what could that be??

As I am typing this, i am already forseeing the huge dissent among those who might read this. "if our lives truly reflect that of a christian community, naturally people will be inclined to join and be inspired to commit?" something to that effect perhaps? Well..i just have to be the pragmatist here. And in my humble opinion, that logic doesnt stand in the face of a somewhat experienced pragmatist in community.

So continue the way we are, dont be discouraged, cuz there's nth to be discouraged about. And lets channel our resources into making people feel at home in their community.

Things will then look brighter.

LOST

2007-09-10T22:22:00.000+08:00

I think to all those very inspirational blogs out there, i am being quite the anti thesis. The iconoclast, the attacker, the indignant vindicator, the devil's advocate. I am the lawyer-to-be.

Its not at all difficult to be de-constructive. Its in fact embarrasingly easy to criticise. I will shatter all arguments and i will learn the arts of tackle and sleight of hand, of rebuttal and rhetoric. I am the harbinger of change and in it comes fire and brimstone, hell and high water.

I have a punching bag at home but thats not enough. In fact i do not know what is. I once did a post on anger, a philosophical musing on whether anger is a deviation from the norm. I think it could be wrong. That thesis was done on the assumption that a state of peace was the norm. What if "bellum omnium contra omnes?" ( a war of all against all- by some philosopher who eludes my memory) What if the constant was war?

That no one can come within 3 inches of me, of my intellectual sanctity, of my vanity and of my soul, is the fruit of my labour. I wont just snap at you. I believe in time, i will be able to practically dismantle your entire construct of belief. I will become the Lord Henry , the John Milton, the Daniel Mcafee, the bigot, the pharisee, the scribe. A priest once told me its called teenage angst. If I am neither a teenager nor angsty, what then is beneath?

What has happened to me?

I take a step back and i realise there is not really one person to blame. Which can be a problem, because i end up burning all with caustic and scathing remarks. The philosophy of language my bro says- that language gives rise to thought? Or that language stems from thought? I choose the former. That i am giving form to my thought as i type, and that i am defining and putting a finger onto my 'teenage angst' is arguably healthy as it is deadly.

And essentially i have no one on my mind that i want to unload on.

And essentially i have everyone on my mind that i want to unload on.

But but but....how do u fight a war against no one? How do you retrieve this peace that is so elusive?

On reflection this post contains alot more power than the the one on anger. The one on anger is informative. This is essentially existential- because i put you in my position without much will of your own. And if i measure it accurately, you would feel my wrath, and see my world through my lenses. And for that, i really do apologise.

What Are The Chances

2007-08-30T01:07:00.001+08:00

What are the chances of life pulling you a fast one?

What are the chances of you getting into a car accident today, and another one tomorrow?

What are the chances of not being a sports player and winning the sports pageant?

What are the chances of coming home only to find that there is a new golden retriever puppy at home?

What are the chances that happy events happen 2 consecutive days in a row?

What are the chances of you doing 5 tutorial questions and your lecturer asking you instead for the sixth?

What are the chances of not bringing the umbrella for all those days that rained, and bringing for those days that didnt?

What are the chances of being where you always felt you belonged?

What are the chances of blowing away every single chance you've got?

I could go on with more and more ludicrous examples. And in it... is a reflection of some peculiar cosmic marvel at the coincidences and not so near misses.

See the problem with all these examples of what if, is that they arent as peculiar and ridiculous as it sounds. It happened! For a person striking a lottery twice, or being hit by lightning, or recovered from serious case of leukaemia, probably these occurrences are nothing.

However, to the common man, the chaplam omnibus person (using some law terminology) the average person on the street who goes about his life without the slightest clue of the tiny miracles that whiff past, these are opportunities to wonder.

To wonder simply how did that happen?? To wonder whether life is really generous to those who love it. To wonder whether something bigger could happen to me. To wonder whether there is more!

Yes they call it luck, serendipity, murphy's law, coincidence, fortuitious...etc. I call it wonder.

I believe terms like 'luck' and 'murphy's law' are just attempts to confine the unconfineable, and to give a language to what cannot be fully comprehended or understood. Yet, because it is a sui generis situation, one and only one like its kind, language demands that there be a separate term to describe this. Whilst others leave it in the abstract, unattainable realm of 'coincidence', i bring in the personal experience of it when i call it wonder. Because its the man who experiences these peculiar situations that has a deep sense of appreciation for it.

Simply put, luck is the situation, wonder is the means of being IN the situation.

So what appreciation am i talking about? That under the veils of routine and motion, of flow and daily grind, is a force that moves. A force that brings 2 together by chance. A force that moves through the minds and hearts and expresses a certain interconnectedness between "neighbour" and man, samaritan and jew (or isit gentile and jew?).
A reality that grants circumstances to make hearts leap, or weep. That you can hear earthquakes happening week after week, that you can conduct a missionary trip and end up being held hostage, that you can be on a holiday for a moment, and in a tragic accident the next... Yes, there is a morbid appreciation for these moments as well.

Its quite beautiful if you really think about it. That on one hand you cant be in control of just about anything, but on another you're actually a part of everything.

Perhaps thats what mystics or a desert fathers or some sages have achieved. To be in a constant state of awe, to be in a certain spiritual cosmic flow that binds all, that time ceases and heaven is seen in a wild flower (william blake).

Or maybe, just maybe its a small part of the human experience. A very fortuitious, serendipitious, wondrous one that is. :)

Happy 21st Bday!!

2007-08-25T00:02:00.000+08:00

I wont be mentioning a name.

But just to let u know, ppl who get on my blogs are generally pretty significant. So hey, what could be more apt than to post one about her on her birthday? Much more its quite an overdue post.

Now, ladies and gentleman, i got to know her when i was in sec 4? Ya. In church. Haha and she was already nice then. 'Sweet young thing' my dad loves to say. So well great..i joint this group and as a result got to know her. Or was it the other way around? hahhaa.

You know those birthday wishes where they reminisce the past and wonder how you all got where you all are? I think i do that quite often with her. Like how did that happen man? Trust me, she aint perfect. Got on my nerves countless times. Though of course i din tell her that. BUT BUT then again, there were countless moments that we shared that i was pretty grateful for.

See..you wouldnt know it unless i told you how special those moments were. Those phone chats. Simple but hilarious. Of course, i always got the upper hand. Cant help being smarter right?? haha.. Also, that one year we brought a friend's 8 year old cousins out for movies and shoppping..think it was christmas. And those deep important melancholic sharings of course...one could never forget that even if he tried. One time i practically dragged her over the phone to meet me for macs breakfast! Wah and she did. How nice was that. And well she has this unattainable chao ji wu di like calligraphic handwriting that can only be read using a mirror or a very imaginative mind. And my birthday present was her magnum opus la! Now, dont i feel proud to have such a friend.

Hahhaa... but then, she also gets her pms periodically. And oh man, i think this is somehting guys face. We guys can never understand how girls can be so friendly one time, and such a.......the next. And when she's hostile, i am like...what the.... Not forgetting her stubborness! Man you cant ask her to do something she didnt wanna do beforehand. She just doesnt budge! Whats with her?!! I mean something as intrinsically good and innocuos as a movie..and she'll be like "doooonnntt waaaannnnt". And i'll be like " oh well".

So weighing pros and cons, between canonizing and condemning, where does she stand? She stands as a friend i've known for about close to 5 years now. A friend that i know something about, and a friend that knows something about me.

And it wouldnt be fair to say that the 5 years was a breeze. haha i didnt exactly make it fantastically easy for her to remain in the friendship- I had my idiosyncracies and my unfair expectations. Of course, there were certain points in time where it got bleak. But well, we still made it didnt we? And THANK GOD we did. Look where we are!

She is still that sweet not-so-young thing, that i constantly find a joy to be with. From watching movies, to attending sessions, to making fun, to being on the bus, to joking about our potential other halves, to letter writing, to deep serious chats, to canoeing, to cycling along east coast, to sending friends off, to praying together... it was wonderful and somewhat touching, really.

So Happy 21st birthday to you. And for the moments that we both shared, thanks. :)

2007-08-09T14:39:00.000+08:00

The Challenge of Teaching Ministry.

The election of the head took place without discernment or prayer, without even the toss of a coin or an argument, not because the choice was crystal clear, nor was it because we were such faith filled people. The election and its subsequent results began simply as one person suggesting another, and that other being resigned to it.

That was our rough start.

We're a team of 3 men. We're people who on paper, believes conversion begins through teaching. We're the ones to look at vatican documents and prayer notes and testimonials and sermons, and we're the ones who're suppposed to make it interesting to the rest. The ministry is to set the grounds and environment for challenge and discussion, of prayer and sharings.

And is it as simple as it looks? Perhaps you've not read in between the lines. We have to plan sessions which have to have the right speakers; it musnt be something remotely similar to what we had in the past for fear of you sleeping, it must be fresh! There are those themes that we got to think about, since theres not much point in forming you if its stuff thats irrelevant isnt it? So we've gotta figure the topics, the subthemes and the details of each subtheme. Getting complex yet?

See, its no point just having theoretical knowledge, as what many would agree. So we try to appease you. Give you an avenue of service, to practice what you preach. This begs the question of what avenues do we create? Does everyone fall under the same category? Is everyone as receptive? What are the consequences if we simply compel all to do the same thing? Taking into mind our resources, time, and abilities to commit etc..it doesnt leave much room for anything creative.

Oh... so we go through the arduos task of asking what you feel. What you think is relevant to your lives, and what you particularly need. Perhaps its prayer? Perhaps its just more time, perhaps its just rearragning of your priorities etc. Thus, one of our techno-savvy members came out with an online survey. Which only approximately 1/3 of the members participated in. Its ok, we understand you've got too much work at hand. OR wait! wasnt that one of our survey questions? Oh ya..i forgot. You din do the survey!

Now, we've only scratched the surface of session planning. Then there's that FLOW. One session gotta lead into another..otherwise you'll be like "huh? whats going on?"

Now the challenge with this FLOW is that for a person who has been there from the start, its all well and nice. But for the half hearted, lukewarm, non-chalant "i'll come when i feel like...so stop asking" person, who steps in right smack in the centre of this FLOW, we'll face this "huh? whats going on" thing again. And so when you feel lost, it just becomes another pathetic excuse for you to leave and not turn up for subsequent sessions since it "doesnt make sense". Rest assured your accountability (or lack thereof) is well scrutinised and followed up by the more dedicated members.

Well well, after we've achieved what could be a vague semblance of a flow, we have yet find the speakers. And wait, its not just any speaker. THe speaker must fulfil a list of criterion. He must be charismatic, have a prayer life, must speak with relevance so on and so forth...rather virtuos qualities. Probably a priest or a seminarian could do the trick. But wait... let me correct that, not just a priest or a seminarian, one whom the OIC approves. (pardon the usage of acronyms)

And why do we have to do all these? Because we're Kingdom Builders, Soldiers for Christ..."go out and baptise the nations", church enthusiasts? Hmm..possibly.

More probably.. So that if you didnt experience God, it wouldnt be on our consience. Haha..our raison de' tre is simply to make sure you will have no excuses to yourself or to God. That if we set the platform and make it ludicrously easy for you to step up on that platform, you'll have only yourself to blame if you dont. This is all politically insenstive of course, and might even make you cringe. But its just a matter of speaking the truth without the facade of 'tact'.

And so i am personally excited about heading this ministry. Haha 'bringing the community to new levels of spiritual growth and development, challenging sharings to be of a depth like never before and to nurture young spiritual leaders to handle the every dynamic movements of community.'

Noble enough? Change the positions of 'L' and 'E' in "noble", u'll get the name of a reward the ministry deserves!

1 of my whimsical thoughts.

2007-07-21T16:44:00.000+08:00

Nicholas Sparks' The Notebook.

To save me the time reading, i took the shortcut and watched the movie instead. Prior to this, the only other time i was acquainted with Nicholas Sparks' works was when i read The Wedding.

I think as much as i can bludgeon this author to death with my criticism and hollering, i realise that there is a necessity for people like him and chick-lit authors to exist. I think in a world gone grey, they're the ones continually painting a surrealistic portrait of romance.

And why is it necessary? Because fairy tales, like dreams, like fantasies are the nuances of human imagination that keeps one alive. When Harry Potter weaves his new magic, when the Beast turns out to be Prince Charming on breaking some evil spell, when Allie realises that she has been the protagonist of the love story her beau's been reading to her, We, the spectator are moved.

We, the spectators, are moved out of the ordinary and banal. We are moved into the infinitely mystical and ambiguos, into the realm of possibilities and alternate realities.
And it seems like motion is imperative to life. Oscar Wilde insinuated that Eve's departure from Eden as a simple rebel against boredom. (again, if my memory served me right)

We hear the adage " the only thing constant is change". The movements of Man started at conception. When you were young, you hear stories of what happened in the past, you hear folktales to oblige you into humble submission of rituals and traditions, you hear fantasies that come alive on movies and novels..and all the time you're never present. What you are in is that constant, irreversible flux of life, that onslaught of information and imagination, of provided and controlled thought. Sounds eerily like a scene from Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, or Orwell's 1984. And all of a sudden, you realise that you too are a story.

The 5th Gospel, if my memory serves me right. But what if one is no longer interested in his or her story? What if like my friend, he figures that he wants to change so many parts of his story to alter his present? Do we get a clean sheet? Do we get a new point of conception? Is there a closing of the old testament, and a beginning of the new?

There is a constant tension between life's grip on us and our grip on life. Do we set the terms of our own joy? Or do we let nature run its course and dictate to us our moments of ecstasy?

I think about it..and i come to no other conclusion and no other answer, than Faith. Its faith that lies on the boundaries of our imagination; its faith that keep those stories and fantasies we hear about real, its simply faith that urges our stories to take new directions and get new leases on life.

You want something more down to earth, more a daily life event? More realistic and less arty? How about this.

The Economist reported that despite the 660 million dollars in compensation for the reported sexual abuses by priests in L.A, the largest sum ever to be paid by a church body, there was a near negligible drop in the persons baptised or attending church in the years that followed. The horrendous atrocities that must leave one shocked and shaken, apparently isnt able to move this very 'up in this air'. abstruse notion of man's faith! That man's mistakes, however heinous they are, wont be able to stain Belief.

'Happily ever after', if it is synonymous with the biblical "eternal heavenly rewards', is given meaning only by looking through the lenses of faith. That which you do not see, nor hear, but believe... In one of the more profound moments in this movie, The Polar Express, Tom Hanks remarked ", sometimes the things that are most real...are those that you cant see."

And so...perhaps the thought that transpired out of this entire prose, this pathetic excuse of a theological thesis, is the profundity of the message of faith. From Nicholas Sparks, to Walt Disney, to the Pope, to some chinese mystic living beside a river in some monastry at the edge of some huge mountain, the one common thread the moves through all, that prompts such works of occasional fascination, that grips the minds of young and old, is the simple need to believe.

2007-07-07T22:20:00.000+08:00

"When Man looks around, he sees not people but humanity as a whole. He sees history as a succession of moments to the point of his conception. And at that point, he begins to shape history, he begins to understand that he can effect change, he is a part of a harbinger of hope.

This happens only when he has understood his individuality is not by sheer coincidence but a pre meditation, an emblem of perfection. Humanity as a whole slants towards an eternal solidarity; a cry for perfection; a call for justice. If man can see himself as part of an eternity, he can understand the gravity of his existence as a means for such ideals to prevail.

Yet, Man must confront his potential, to expand his horizons and unleash his creativity. Only then is he fully alive. He understands that for another to be a brother, he must know when unique ends and comparison begins. And that whilst all are different, all are similar- we're under the same sky, having the same hope of a brighter tomorrow, and wondering at the same chaos that mystifies.

Its on this line of thought, that respect, compassion, sincerity and forgiveness is built. That through a common humanity, through the thread of a similar hope, and through the same river of tears, will we come to see our neighbour, where boundaries of regions and race, of religions and language, are eventually erased.

The profundity of this message is not easily articulated. But its imperative to bear witness to Him who died for this message, its essential to proclaim to a world that is drowning in the irony of greater estrangement in an age of better communicative technology, immense poverty in a rising affluence and a proliferating loss of individuality in a milieux of growing freedom of thought and speech.

To the world... this is hope. Enunciated."

Pardon my Polemic

2007-06-28T11:53:00.000+08:00

Lets give credit where credit is due.

Joshua," if you dont hope it just goes to show you dont love"
Val, "it was the final straw for you"
Jeanette, "it'll come to apoint where i wouldnt want to talk to you"

Exasperation. There's something very ominous about all of this. It seems like everyone just wants to proselytise. They need to hear only things that they want to hear. How loved and blessed we are. How we must be truthful when we struggle so on and so forth. And its like the ultimate travesty if u share the wrong thing. And they have this whole memorised script at the back of their heads, with perfect scriptural verses and hymns and songs and life sharings to accentuate their points. ITs brilliant but its not human.

when one does share, they're so quick to think of a rebuttal they forget the need of the person to simply be there to listen. So, people like me, talk back. And naturally there will be only a "talking at" never a "talking to".

And interestingly, thats how u reach ultimatums like that. " if you carry on like this, there'll be a point where i wouldnt want to talk to you." Big surprise.

"if you need to talk, i'll be here"
You'll be here, to? To convert me? To tell me how im losing the big picture and that i must see what u do? And eventually i will let you speak. Because i know that unless you do, you wont ever feel like the conversation ended on a light, spiritual note.

The one reason why i cant stop talking and being so contentious is because no one really listens. When i talked to Merrill, when i hear steven out, when i hear myself fulminating, i hear people who wants to be heard. Not people who wants advice nor appreciates it..people who needs understanding. Thats a kinda brokenness and a cry people will never admit to. Only maybe online. Where the people scrutinising are behind the masks of their computer screens. People whom such internet users and bloggers wouldnt really know.

Thats how pathetic this whole situation is.

That people have to complain to the anonymity of the internet community because the real living persons in the community have failed so miserably.

Its interesting how we're getting pretty effective at our ministries and our delivery. How we planning fast and ahead. How we're getting evangelical and ambitious. But the heart of the issue is an issue of the heart. An individual's heart. A bleeding wounded heart that is neither in need of big talks on big visions, nor smart chats on theology, nor even righteous psychoanalyses. All that heart needs is another heart beating alongside it.

In so much voices, there will be silence. And out of the silence, there will be a voice that 2 hearts beating together can hear. "a friend is one soul in 2 bodies"- Aristotle.
Point is, simply, shut up.

2007-06-24T16:41:00.000+08:00

LOSS.

I find it so difficult to share this, because of 2 things. 1) i have difficulties putting this feeling into words, and 2) because i guess its not easy to find someone out there who really listens.

Today was a day with far too many clouds. I woke up feeling it all wrong. Maybe its the Israel war, Gaza strip conflict that i've been reading about. Maybe its about the suicide cases i chanced upon the day before. But something just didnt feel right.

Mass was a struggle too. I told myself that it must be the empty stomach, just find some sugar, get a good breakfast, it will be alright. Halfway through the homily, Fr Ho came in. With an unusual, scratchy voice, the kind of voice you might have dealing with a shock, he said these words that tore me up. " Pray for this boy...His heart stopped. I am rushing to the hospital now."

And nothing felt right anymore. This is the very little i know about him- Super athlete, probably from RJ, younger than me, and i might have facilitated in his confirmation camp before. And now he's gone.

News like this come and go, and more often than not i stay sad for no longer than the duration of the announcement; but this one struck, like a hammer on a rod..with the resonance lingering through a long time after the hammer has stopped.

And there's a crack, somewhere. The hammer hit on a nail, and it felt like underneath that nail was my heart.
I have no idea where or what does it mean, but suddenly the day's no longer the same. I was in a rage when i saw the nonchalance in people's faces when they heard the news, when they reacted like it was just gossip, when we had to carry on and do what we had to do and when we had to conduct praise and worship. PRAISE AND WORSHIP??? What praise? to what purpose? for what? How can life go on so relentlessly and so heartlessly when a part, however small that part was, is no longer there?

Is this grief? Yet i have no clue to who he is, or what he was like, what his favourite colours were or even who his parents is. But we will be acquainted. Yes, at the wake. Thats when the dead will meet the living, thats when i will start remembering and ask myself, 'have i spoken to him before?' 'what did i say?' 'what was his reply?'

And no words can be enough, no hugs or no wreaths, no photos and no lamentation can be adequate in expressing this loss. "In memory of..." they say. The only memory i can have of you, if nothing else, is this post, and the way you sleep, as you rest in eternity.

I wish i knew you.

Lets scold.

2007-06-06T14:20:00.000+08:00

Yap, lets scold.

You! You who think that romance is all about a trade. What you can receive with what you can give. You who dare trade money for looks. You who provide companionship in exchange for one. You who believe that love is a toy, dazzlingly new and precious at first, but increasingly monotonous and banal at the end. You who even believes that love begins and ends.

What a travesty. What a flagrant disregard for the many relationships who have gone through that are beyond your comprehension or imagination. And you... you who havent seen pass yourself far enough to accept or give love. You say you're cynical and you hide behind the masks of knowledge and experiences of others but not yours..you're an infant who has never touched crayons, but believes colours are ugly. An architect who draws but never constructs, an army general who has held neither a dying man's hand nor a rifle, who's only tool in a a pencil on a map. You're a spectator from afar. And all you have had....are glimpses of people's lives. And you draw flippant conclusions of love.

When you read Nicholas Sparks and Danielle Steele, when you watch 50 first dates and Notting Hill, you look at those endings and you say "yeah right". You hear cases of breakups and friends telling you their other-half's peccadilloes..and you tell yourself, "i told you so". But of course, when you're challenged, you have these wonderful theories and sharings that you speak with candour and conviction. "warmth" is just a word and "intimacy" a taboo, "im crazy about him" is a cliche, and you roll your eyes when someone says "she makes me so happy".

I think you have no opinion of your own. You're so afraid to go through the hell and high waters of a relationship, you hide behind your own BS. And when someone happens to come along, you brush him/her aside. You let these books and these people hinder you from witnessing something so incredible, why i wonder. Because you think you're independent? What's that? That you dont need anyone or that you pack so many friends and so many events in your life you're missing life itself?

But i dont believe that you really believe your crap. I am wondering whether there are times you are envious, or even jealous of people who never seemed to experience your sense of loneliness. I am curious to know if behind all that facade, you want a relationship so bad that you end up being in denial.

Are you that sure someone just cant make you happy or accepts you the way you are? Or is there no more to you. You are a walking talking apotheosis of an eros-pariah. yap, thats hte word. A love outcast. A person who scrutinises from afar but has never been in. A person so frightened to face the realities of who he or she is, that he/she'd dimiss the very possibility of someone falling in love with that reality. Listen...wake up!

Smell the fresh air of freedom and flowers. Taste the sweet coffee and care. Devour the chocolates and kisses. Be lovey dovey. Be emo, be obsessive, be cheesy, i dont give a damn. Just wake up.

CHAN MUN PUN

2007-05-23T10:57:00.000+08:00

And apart from those 2 girls. I think one person i really gotta give credit to...for all these years of friendship, that i hadnt really, is mun pun.

There are so many, so many, memories. Sec sch, we fought, he threw a duster that hit the OHP, it broke, he cried. :)
I chased him out of the house.
We competed in our studies, in every imaginable subject.
We had the same maths and science tuition.
I pissed him off too many times.
He came over my place to watch movies and swim.
We chat about God.
We chat about headlines.
I would impose, he would refuse. I would get indignant, he would get frustrated.

i'd be vulgar at him, he'd be vulgar back.
We had an anti Mun Pun club once. hahah
I didnt spearhead the club..i just joint it.
His reputation carried all the way into JC.

We wrestled, he almost broke Rizal's back.
He had tonnes of nicknames. C M p, chump, cmp monster...haha and afew more
He's been there for most of my birthday celebs.

And i think if i carried on...it might cheapen the very thick and very thin we've been through.
But either way, thanks dude for making the effort, always. An 8 year friendship goes a helluva long way...and i dare to boast, in this age of superficiality and materialism, or individualism and competition, not many have something that we share. :)

2 girls

2007-05-23T10:32:00.001+08:00

WOo hoo i finally get to blog!

Ok i met this girl on sunday, and i will not mention who she is. But ever since then, i wanted to just pen down my thoughts on this person...
I think amongst all the girls i met, she's the most fascinating. She's brilliant and so quick on her feet! haha its like any insult i throw at her is deflected and before i know it, i have one right in my face.
I htink perhaps arts students are all like that, emotive and expressive. With her, "the hits just keep on coming", and somehow the conversations and exchanges have never stopped intriguing me. Its not so much her thoughts, but the way she read people. Haha either i've been too open (which i strongly doubt it), or that she's just that x ray vision to look through souls. I feel like an open book! And strange, because its over MSN, the most shallow means of conversation. Other than perhaps blogging, of course. :)

In her case, you dont know when enthusiastic ends, and hyper begins. If i formulate thoughts at about 1 thought per second, she'd do it in half the time. I never really met someone so intellectually engaging before .A female that is. Guys? hmm...quite a few, jude, alex and maybe hautzeng. And she's not reserved..she lambast and caress, she refuses to back down from an argument and in due time, agrees, shes in a world of her own but never shuts you off from it. Oh damn she's interesting.

Hhaha abit of a split personality, i would say, governed only by her endearing relationship, that once again, you dont know when love ends, and obsessions begins. She fascinates me, i htink mostly not in her ability to refuse, but in her ability to rebutt. Haha sometimes i htink i get through to her, only to know that we're perhaps agreeing on hte wrong page after all. And darn, my intellectual vanity is constantly under siege in even the tiniest exchange. Haha..gotta beef up on that, marcus!

The NEXT person needs no introduction whatsoever. She's been appearing on too many of my posts, but yesterday's titillating experience prompeted me to once again affirm her meaningful and touching, but irritating and sometimes selfish, existence!
EVELYN- met her yest at abt 10 then headed to the airport, and went back at abt 1120. So by the time we reached her place? Hmm almost 1140? Hahha so 1 hr and 4o mins of non stop squabbling. Hahha ok la there were a few quite good moments of serious talk. But that lasted about say.. 15 mins?

And before i came, in all honesty, i would wonder about how socially inept i am, whether it'll be more deafening silence than conversation. But...turned out to be pretty fantastic eh? haha its like even when my other friends (whom i fetched from the airport) were in the car, it was as if they werent. We bickered from airport to her place, never giving chance...and somehow in all this, it still feels like JC. It still feels as though there never was a gap, you never went med sch, and i never went army.

Haha not like im getting all nostalgic. Its more happiness, really.

US TRIP 27th April - 11th May

2007-05-12T22:59:00.000+08:00

I think this is just about the first time I’ve been overseas with a group of close friends. Well, there was the other time at Malacca a few years back. But on a plane? Too a distant country?

And boy was it amazing.

Desmond, Linus and Chian Yee. And Linus’s parents.

Of course, there were those distinct moments of irritation, of fatigue and of boredom. But all in all, I cant imagine a more titillating holiday and fulfilling experience at the same time!

First day, in the midst of a sufferable jetlag, which is 12 hours by the way, we arrived in the morning and headed to Prime 1 shopping outlets. Checked in at a pretty huge apartment that we spent the next 7 days in.

Dinner was at a certain buffet restaurant, the first of many, many buffets to come. And that was when we first set our sights in awe of the anomaly called obesity. Just about every other person in the restaurant was twice our size, minimum. Now my friends, since young they’re the fit ones and well, I am the plump nerd then, so I could empathize with them (the big ppl) and yet enjoy the hilarity of my friends’ not-too-christian jokes.

Exhausting first day!

Now I could go on until the 12th day! But I think it will bore the crap out of any reader.

So the list of events that happened (not in chronological but in memoro-logical order)

We took an Airboat to see the rural side of Orlando, and Crocs-an experience most aptly described by Linus’s enunciation of “I don’t see shit!”

Disneyland, Universal Studios and Gatorland- these 3 parks which occupied 3 full days, have to be seen on the photos yet to come, to be believed. Universal studios has etched itself onto the aesthetic faculty of my cognitive as a place of fun and wonder.

Beetlejuice held a rock concert in Universal Studios, which captivated all of us. We were reluctant to go, but it was definitely no mistake. Played contemporary music that we all in one way or another were familiar with- so..COOL.

The evenings were spent eating, exercising, serving the net and clearing my mail. A banal set of routines that was sapid and relaxing enough for an evening.

What else was significant? Oh yes, one of Linus dad’s jokes about Americans not knowing where Singapore is. And that we should design a shirt that shows Singapore as the little red dot right where the naval is. Laughed till it hurt, that one.

Roller Coasters! The Mummy ride in Universal Studios was a killer. Conventional Wisdom has it that roller coasters are slow on the ascend, and free fall on the drop... in this case, it was g forces up the ramp and even more g forces down! And it was indoor with all the gimmicks- fire, bugs, water, you name it!

And the 3 D shows. One musical at Disney- an anthology of disney’s classics and their songs. Mind blowing.

Well, there’s the shopping. Got some stuff for home and all. Got Tarantino’s Jackie Brown at a whopping 30 bucks! Also, I managed to get another book that is turning out to be a pretty good read, other than for its overemphasis on the beautiful environment.

Our driver is bubbly. Her name is Rossanna and she’s a Brazilian who doesn’t take any offense to our jokes and laughter. Motherly-that meaning naggy, concerned, excited, thoughtful and entertaining.

Now if you’re ever planning a trip there, I suggest you rent a car. Travelling alone easily took up 20 percent of our overall expenditure.

And there’s something seriously wrong with America. Whilst we were there, a tornado, a flood, a forest fire, all took the headlines. Ask Janice, ask Al Gore, they’ll give you an educated explanation on the meaning of such ominous signs with terms like environment, pollution, global warming…

Also I finished 2 books! Self by Yann Martel, which was more a discovering of sexuality and appetites then identity, unless of course the 2 are inextricably linked? I went for another dose of spiritual enlightenment from the guru of contemporary communities- Jean Varnier’s Becoming Human. Recommend it to all. Not just a Christian. Anyone who has any yearning whatsoever of becoming a little more complete.

Kennedy Space Center. You watched Armaggedon? It would give you quite a good preview on what to expect. Its more like a space museum, with all the technicalities and historical histrionics. It was an informative one and I believed it would have been more enjoyable if not for the weather.

One thing about the weather, on the 2 times I came to USA. Its drains excitement and enthusiasm. The scorching heat means you do not want to be out for long, because it gets tiring and in the building, when you require concentration, you no longer seem to have it. But all in all, I must say it was something different and an acceptable departure from the previous theme parks.

Finally, LAS VEGAS.

Now I believe I was pretty ambivalent about coming to what seemed to be a huge gambling den engulfed in scorching heat.

But when I arrived, which was at night, and already at the runway I could see the magnificence of the light displays and blinking facades of the pyramid, the various hotels, I knew then that I wouldn’t want to miss this for the world!

Watched Mama Mia and some oldies’ concert featuring the Platters- the one who sang Smoke gets in your eyes and Only You? Felt pretty fulfilled when I brought the rest to watch Mama Mia and they enjoyed themselves. Truthfully, I shouldn’t have put Mama Mia down so much on watching Forbidden City and Phantom. As much as those were more arty, this was definitely more engaging.

And there were those slot machines. Tiny money-laundering devices that gives one the illusion that he or she has made a lot of money and will continue to do so if they spend more- and we were stupid enough to lose an average of 15 bucks a person. So yes, that’s what happens when you put too much into chance, very occasionally you strike a jackpot, but more often than not, you lose. Only Linus went back with his very proud $1.60 profit.

Grand Canyon! Now I’ve been to Yosemite Park in California with waterfalls and greenery. So a brown background with some rock formations and a lot of sand could hardly be as mesmerizing. But well the rest had their breaths taken away by the monolithic structures. It was quite ok I guess. Passed Hoover dam. And a few laughable occasions when I took shots of them with the background, not exposing the sky. So they looked as though they were at the back of a huge rock wall.

Speaking of Laughable occasions.

Was it when I wrestled with Desmond on the bed and got a video taken by Chian Yee?
Was it how Chian Yee kept criticizing the way I sang? And what’s that song? Yi chang you xi yi chang meng.

Was it when we shopped for their presents? That one particular gift I cant comment too much on.

Was it when we made fun of Desmond’s CCA?
Was it when we chat about what we missed in Singapore? Teh Peng, Jia Jia Liang cha, etc.

Was it when I realized my freaking flight home was booked one day late??
Or was it when they managed to reschedule my flight timing, and upgraded me to Business Class?

Was it when we talked about Edward Leonard and his mimicking our science teacher Mr Foo?

Was it when we talked about Ivan?
Was it when we watched the various plays and had songs we’re familiar with, performed?
Was it those stupid moments I had with Desmond? Our little squabbles and arguments that made the walks back from the Casino a timeless, memorable classic?

Thank God I went for this trip.

how do i feel??

2007-04-25T20:45:00.000+08:00

Ambivalent

The past few days culminated in a climax yesterday night. Suddenly, there's a way out of all this. And i took it. Or rather, i will be taking it.

Yes, its SMU and i've serious reservations going there. But well, it offers something i've wanted to do longer than any of the other courses i gave thought to.

And lets jot down, what i did to prepare. Or how did my decision evolve as such?

Well, lets say its the arguments in army. The people really, i must give thanks to God for.
Nicholas Koh- uncompromising, insensitive and definitely straight to the point- thanks for the challenge to be quicker and more calm in dealing with situations.

Hau Tzeng- quick, philosophical and really stubborn- thanks for starting me on the steps of debate and discussion. I thoroughly enjoyed the sessions and realised that it was something i couldnt have done without.

Marcus Goh- a lover of generalisations- that i can constantly think twice about what you say, find loopholes and fallacies, and to challenge me to blow them out of proportion.

Nathaniel- patience, encouragement, resilience- i believe everytime we chat, it was always a discussion, never an argument. You made me understand how to have an opinion and stand by them. Is that what conviction is?

Thong Keng and Alex- the 2 most brilliant debaters i probably will ever know- thanks for always giving that fresh insight and pulling the intellectual rug off my insolent feet. Getting that air of brilliance, is both at once intimidating as well as challenging. And as much as i understand my colossal failure at evangelizing, your opinions and sharings were felt and kept.

These were the people. And of course a few more.

Then there was that system. That i tried to break and suffered the consequences that will forever be etched in the memories of my platoon mates. Unbelievably stupid actions that well, revealed the maverick rebel within. Of course, at that point in time, all i could think about was what a dumbass i was.

Then were the books and newspapers. The local issues, the economist, etc. Ideas thrown in different directions and propelled me from one illusion into antoher fantasy. It was an overwhelming experience, that i had to ask myself, where it would lead me.

Now, the friends!

' I think you like to analyse and dont like to have a specific answer for an issue. So *** might be a good thing for you'- Daniel Wong. Thanks bro. It kept me through.

'Personally, you're intellectually way above many i've met, and philophically you're past me... the key question is motivation and what we really want'- Samson. Im writing all this by hard. So its more than obvious the profound impact it had on me.

'personally, i dont really see you as a *** person, but if its somehting you really want, then God will grant you the grace to see you through...'- Evelyn. Thanks for the chat, and thanks for beating down my insecurities.

'i think you might enjoy ***'- Jude and Joshua. yeap, it was over badminton.

'i am thinking...why not?'-Shireen

These were the tiny encouragements which served a huge deal. And of course many many unsung heroes that deserve my applaud and sincere gratitude. Thank you. When i stopped believing in myself, it was you all that reminded me to.

Of course, there was family.

All the debates about anything minor, for the flamboyant use of language, for the excitement and involvement in any argument- thanks melv.

For the nudging and the cheering up, for the tiny quotations from "the pursuit of happyness"- "people cant do it themselves and they tell you you cant. you want something? Go GET IT'- thanks jie.

So, this was what got me started. And going. Thank you God. Soemhow, it all turned out alright.

But why ambilavent? Shouldnt it be delirious??

Well, my stupidity does take its toll on the things i do. And that has dire consequences. And im just so tired of making these mistakes and screwups. Time and again.

Its no longer an act of rebelliousness, but an act of nitwitism. The idiocy behind ignorance. The foolishness of indifference. The sheer vacancy of the mind, in such quixotic acts.

It scares the crap out of me really, that i have the potential to make such massive mistakes. And maybe in all of this, the one thing i can recall is St Paul's message of "to stop being from being too proud, i was given a thorn in the flesh. For this, i've pleaded with the lord 3 times, and He answered my grace is sufficient for you, my power is best in weakness". Its comforting, but well...it does demand a certain letting go la.

And so yes, its really a mixture of feelings. A monumental success on one hand, and a hiccup of insurmountable proportions on another. how does one feel, objectively, about that??

SOMEONE TELL ME

2007-04-24T12:23:00.000+08:00

JUST what to do.

IN 3 days, i will be flying off. Or i will not. What does it mean if i fly off? Means i close an option, for good. That i do not want this enough to make that sacrifice. But how do i do that? I just cant make that decision...yet.

Or in 3 days, i will still be here. I will take my test on the next day, with absolutely no idea whatesoever how it will turn out. And so if it turns out bad, i would have effectively lost out on THAT, and my trip. How do i do that?

Yet, it seems almost a redundant question which choice i should make. On one hand lies a potential future, and on another a holiday. Yet, i am so inclined to look at the momentary, the transient and the near.

There are ways to go about doing this. LIttle adjustments that make both fit in. A short compromise on that, or a little hassle on this. BUt when the dust is settled, and all talk comes with no action, when i am at that threshold having to select one hand over another, not being able to have my piece of cake and eat it...what will i do?

This is a dilemma of insurmountable proportions, decisions so painfully obvious yet impossibly difficult to make. A conundrum of the heart, chided not by intellect but by emotion. And in that is a tiny audacity of hope, that against everything, it will be alright.

Whilst writing this, i am struck with a small epiphanic thought. Mayeb the grasp is not between the holiday and the test, the balance not between future and pleasure. Perhaps the sine qua non, is what the sine qua non is. What is important.

ENOUGH

2007-04-15T02:00:00.000+08:00

Yea you know what?
Maybe i just cant do it.

Maybe i dont have what it takes. Maybe i dont need to do this. Maybe i have been lying to myself and to others all along.

But you know what? I do not think so.
I think this is something i need and want more than ever. I think its something i can excel and shine at. I think i might not have what it takes, but i will go that distance to make it happen. So dont you tell me that you dont see me as such a person.

You know what i think? I think life gives you too little time with too many decisions with too few 2nd chances. And occasionally, when something like this comes along...you GRAB it. There is no tomorrow, for something lesser, for something to make the best out of. It is today, and in that today, you make the whole difference.

It was as if your life was made for certain moments. And its that those moments that calls for certain decisions...and making such decisions are all that really matter.

So, why let someone or something hold you back? They dont know you. And neither can they tell you who you are, and who you are not. There are those situations when you remember your failings. Is that gonna make you stumble more? Or is that gonna be why you do not stumble anymore?

Yea, htis is a pretty pissed off post. But im trying to be creative and direct negativity into something inspirational. Why? Because i think so many people out there need to know that they can..and so they ask. But the replies they get, are humbling realities. "you cant study because you simply have no money to!"
"You cant compete with the other fella cuz you just simply dont have the looks or character"

And frankly, i've had quite enough of this BS. You cant do it, and you tell someone else he or she cant. You know maybe, too many persons havent had their shot, because of people like you. People like you who puts someone else down, to feel momentarily higher. People like you, are weeds, devoid of nutrients, and suck the nutrients out of a budding flower.

I htink whoever should just take this 'reality check' crap, and shove it. So what if i have my disabilities and inconveniences. A great philosopher once said, i am the captain of my fate, and master of my destiny.

I know i can and i will. And i think, thats all that matters.

Dont you tell me otherwise.

Taking flak and holding ground.

2007-04-07T15:32:00.000+08:00

In a scene reminiscent of the movie 300, i shall compose somehting that vaguely related to the titillating experience of yesterday, and 1-2 weeks back.

The challenger stood his ground. The enemy amounted to seven times his size. One believer against another, who would win? The wise against the strong, the courageous against the insurmountable...

He drew first blood and launched a spear. The enemy ducked, but a quick slash to the arm saw the enemy surprised at what he could do.

The enemy realised it must have its assault; it withdrew the hideous blade that shattered too many soldiers and whirled the sword at him.

Shield raised in time, he felt the brunt of the blow and fell back. The enemy capitalised and plunged the blade into him.

It missed him by inches and scarred his face. Tasting his own blood, he mustered the energy to release an onslaught of blows to the enemy. He drew his own sword by masterfully smashing the scabbard against the enemy, throwing it off its feet.

The enemy was caught by surprise, and before knowing it, had the challenger's sword coming right at him at deadly and uncompromising pace.

Sword came to meet sword, and eyes were locked in a deadly showdown. The enemy moved into a strategic position and hurled itself onto the challenger, and as the challenger ducked, the enemy achieved certain momentum to plunge his knife into the challenger's thigh. Just below the belt.

As he writhed in agony, the enemy begin preparing for the death blow, swinging the blade around.

The challenger raised his shield just in time to see the shield shattered. Yet, that bought him just the time needed to severe the enemy's jugular.

Both men were worn. But one knew that another had won. They looked at each other, in utmost respect.

2007-04-04T11:22:00.000+08:00

LOST LOVE.

When does a child stop crying?
When she knows she is no longer heard.

When does a Man stop believing?
when he has seen.
He sees a past and a present and foresee no future.
Thats when a man stops believing.

A child cries in the wilderness,
a mother is raped.
A father is shot,
a hope is lost.

A man looks in the mirror,
he asks,
what did i do, what did i do.
A belief is lost.

A mother looks at her child,
looks at her luggage,
and picks up her luggage instead.
A love is lost.

It is in their eyes,
and their cries.
It is in the voices that are silenced,
it is in the heart that the gamble is lost.

A child grows up.
He is the age of twenty,
and drinks
To wash that memory of father and mother.

A man grows old.
He looks again into that mirror,
and sees no more of himself,
but of what happened that fateful day.

A child becomes a mother,
she has but one single memory of her mother.
that the luggage was chosen over her.
she wonders, if she will be like her, someday.

The newspaper say that he attempted to rape.
In self defense, the lady shot the alcoholic.
Was it the lady who killed the alcoholic,
or the alcoholic who killed the boy,
or was the boy already dead
when his father got shot, and his mother, raped?

The man smashes the mirror,
he holds a gun to his head.
His wife pleads, his children cry.
He says, "i am sorry, but today i must face my lie."

She packed her bag- her husband cheated on her.
She realised that the apple doesnt fall far from the tree,
she is just going to be like her mother.
"mummy where are you going" the child asks

She looks around and see her bag.
She sees her child.
She drops her bag.
"mummy is not going anywhere" she says.

Love lost in one memory, can be redeemed by another.

2007-03-28T11:41:00.000+08:00

There are just some things that perk this meagre excuse of an existence.

One of which are irretrieably, and undeniably- birthdays.

Its one of those days you are reminded that you exist. To yourself, to the people around you, even to the anonymous.- i just received 2messages from strangers i barely got acquainted with.

Sometimes, such reminders are imperative. When you lived a good twenty one years, with the nagging questions and the disappointing answers, you stop bothering... the camouflage of answers and truth are not invulnerable to time. Time reveals what is necessary...in a matter of time.

Certainly there will be expectations. Of your birthday, and people of you. But Catherine Lim said, in the case of parents, expectations and hopes, and even well wishes...more often than not, come in the annoying form of admonitions. So, well, a parent's love to a child effectively begins with...some sorta scolding. How about friends? Well, they express it under slightly different circumstances. Forget the reasons at which they do. Instead, lets scrutinise the how!

Some would drop a message, more of endearment...some would drop you a call, catch up on old times. Some, with the proliferation of the internet, would use email or the chatrooms like msn..to drop some amiable note of congratulations. Perhaps a surprise would wait for you around the corner? Perhaps not. The excitement that lies with friends, is that there is very little room for prediction.

I had one of the most exciting quarrels of my life. At first glace, when one mentions a quarrel, it invokes a sympathy, a call to understand? Or perhaps a baseless judgement on one's bellicose character? Either way, that bears no matter to me.

The quarrel started with Desmond asking why there wasnt a movie. And then yiming with his blatant attempts to push the blame. And then my defensive mechanisms got psyched up. Ended with torrence's attempt to analyse and make the situation palatable enough to not be the victim. There was so much fun in it. Maybe it was because of the prior anger, and the impossibility of us to get angry with each other. Maybe it was just at that point in time, nobody wanted to get angry, but they just wanted to get the issue out of them. Maybe hilarity was innate in friendship. I do not know.

And yes, it carried on for a good while...with a huge commotion. Such joy in such belligerence. Desmond, regretful for the upheaval he caused. Linus and Mun Pun laughing away at the hilarity of the sudden explosion. Yi ming irritated at my recalcitrance, torrence smiling and making his comments felt, and i berating my head off, Chian Yee a third party to the argument,. trying to shift the entire matter to a different subject.

Therein lies the truth of a matter. That when people, friends , come together, it is not so often commonality that binds...but sometimes, sheer freedom of stupidity. we're free to express, holding nothing back. No ambitions, no need to hide behind veneers of intellect and spirituality, nothing... because nothing is revealed... and actually, everything is.

I think i am reading too many jodi picoult...haha thats why my emotional reflections also take off from where she left. But cant help it really..she's just so damn good. Waiting for someone to get me Nineteen Minutes! argh...haha hope i don have to spend another 20 bucks on her books.

2007-03-18T23:08:00.000+08:00

To STOP and THANK God once in a while, is healthy and necessary.

1) For the various interviews that keep me occupied, thinking and focused.

2) For the Law Open House. It was inspirational and i needed such a platform for certain personal reasons.

3) For the meetup with Charmaine and Daniel to watch Rocky Balboa.

4) For the free tickets to watch Hannibal Rising with Melvyn.

5) For friends who were wiling to wait for me to come back from HK to watch Protege

6) For rather interesting Cath Class that i had a good mind to miss.

7) For the great laughs that ALWAYS happen whenever i am around that bunch.

8) For the wondrous opportunity to facilitate in Yishun Primary and Xingnan Primary. Fantastic experiences with the adorable children. Playing a role in people's lives had never been more fulfilling.

9) For Ethan's card. Thank You Ethan. You were the earliest to wish me..though i am still getting used to the ethan nehemiah-thing.

10) For the hangout with VJs, and the short dinner meetup cum celebration they held for charmaine and I.

11) For driving to East Coast with Mel and Aunty Anula.

12) For the new Jodi Picoult Book thats out and that i am seriously considering buying.

13) For this holiday being such a meaningful albeit expensive one.

Yes...its been so long since i typed something here. Partly because of blogger. Been a ride of my life. Not much reflections..though quite often i sink into my deep thoughts. One thing i have constantly asked myself recently though, was this " is this what being trully alive means??"

So many mundane stuff...many would say. But in it, there is just so much more. The intangible that is the most real. 'Life is made bearable by the stories we save and tell."- Catherine Lim. Somehow, i've saved up quite a number of stories to make my life more euphoric than just bearable.

In that, i do still have abit of things to deal with-

my time is almost up. I have to make a decision as pertaining to msc.

Lent. The little bit of time. It wasnt a complete waste, thats for sure. Now its how to use it better.

loooooong overdue

2007-03-05T23:17:00.000+08:00

8 GREAT THINGS THAT HAPPENED, IS HAPPENING, OR ABOUT TO HAPPEN

1) Hong Kong!
With Shawn and Gabriel. The promise to Gabriel i havent been able to keep because of his stupid injury- i finally managed to. Was fun and i tried cramping the entire Purpose Driven Life into this trip. Of course it didnt succeed.

But i still gained some liberating insight that i shared on mscbcgrocks.blogspot.com. Anyway, it was a great trip and i was glad i got to know these people better.

2) Jie's Birthday!

Ok, we did celebrate it early, but it was still enjoyable. And praise God for her 22 years. Food at Anges was sumptous. And yeap, it was a fantastic time of getting together, after getting back from HK.

3) Driving!

Woohoo. The ardous and tiresome and cumbersome journey of driving is over! Ok, it didnt feel like alot when i got it, cuz i somehow expected to. But now, I can be the one to shuttle people, rather than always requiring their assistance.

So glad about the independence! And yea, still quite apprehensive about using the highways and all..but takes time. And gotta start with a prayer man. Its too costly to even contemplate screwing up, whilst driving.

4) Birthdays!

Im not that excited about mine. Haha..like abit cynical about anything that could possibly happen. But for Torrence's, and Desmond's, and maybe Brendan's...its amazing what we can do for them, to make it special.

Am hoping to do so la. But probably concentrate on one only.
And there is nothing more wondrous, than the look of pleasant surprise..which im hoping to achieve. So, haha God help me, there's seriously NO time.

5) CNY

Managed to meet up with a few of them. Terrence, Jude, Sam, Evelyn, Adrian, Colin and Kenny. Although it wasnt exactly the easiest-to-be-free kind of experience, it was still nice after a long hiatus.

Engaged in an sms debate with Jude over comm. Was both intellectually and spiritually fulfilling and liberating la.

Met up with Alvin for supper. And had quite a fine chat, as always. Abt life, God, community, relationships..haha..

Also, Mel gave a poignant prayer for the family, during reunion. As to the years before, this one was a highlight of the evening. Another possible highlight would be the severe diarrhoea after...haha.

6) Lent

Though i hardly feel it is special, i am dying to make it a meaningful one. And PDL is a good way to begin. Takes serious dying of myself. Especialyl this year, with an especially many number of layers to go under, and discover. I guess the greatness lies in the excitement of such a daunting task.

7) People.

I realise that I do not have many to celebrate with. They are just too busy. In hong kong, i was saddened by the fact that i couldnt share my great achievement and joy with that someone- people i used to call and chat, people i used to go out over movies and sharing.. suddenly are too busy. It is quite a painful realization, but i guess a realistic portrayal of what will happen la. So cant let it affect me too much.

Nevertheless, there are people i've gotten alot closer to. That i praise God for. People i've begun admiring, appreciating and enjoying.

8) Achievement!

I chanced upon this website, for blogs, in gv.com. IT was some sorta competition among blogs for movies. I thought, why not? And posted the blog about Scent of A Woman.
Wow...they called me up to say that i am in the finals! So proud of myself. It caught me completely offguard, and I was really proud of that something for once.

For once in my life, my sole interest, and my passion, didnt go un-noticed or dismissed with 'waste of time', 'does nothing for you'..etc etc. And in a certain sense, I am glad that I have a great interest. Its like you're defined by what you care for..that sorta thing.

So thank God, for wondrous events. And may there be more to come!!

2007-02-25T15:52:00.000+08:00

THE QUOTIDIAN

A play just ended. 'Longings and Belongings', they called it: one's mental instability culminated in a murder and ultimately a search to reconcile the past.

He walked into the crowd, a sea of blank faces. Its strange how we can feel alone even in a cherpy crowd.

A light brush, a polite smile, a bouquet of flowers: behind gestures he hides through feelings of alienation. How is it that one could be so impossibly out of place? Is it possible that God made too many creatures for all so many things, he forgot to give one, one?

Longings and belongings. We long to belong, and yet we long too long, sometimes. Times places too many restrictions on far too many things.

An average person has 7 years to successfully enter the education system, another 18 to successfully leave, another 4 to cast a career,32 years to make a living, and another 20 years to rest.

Miss one of those, well, you just die more tired.

And yet, we ask for more. More within the quotidian. From sunrise to sunset, there has to be an illusory beauty that captivates. Is it friendship? Is it love?
Is it anything we can possibly find, whilst living?

He walked along. Today is the day, after 25 years of being. Being what? Being who? It was sheer being; it wasnt living and he knew it.

Leaving the crowd, he gathered speed and let his thoughts bring him into the fine darkness. Here, he leaves in truth, for its when we barely see anything, that we get to focus on the neccesary.

He stumbled upon an open patch. Here was where they said lay a cemetary. A cemetary that was to be built over. He wondered how strange it was that some would go all out to retain memories, whilst others would go all out to destroy them. Would love be a memory to retain, or destroy? He wondered

Today, he visited someone. She used to be a huge person, larger than life. But time caught up with her. The time that reminds all, biblically, ashes will become ashes and what was from dust, will become dust.

It caught up with him. In such twilight, it was ironic that he was at his most lucid. Who was she? What was she like? If death comes to all, what makes a good death? Frailty, adversities has an enormous power on keeping us held to the ground. Keeping us real. Psychiatrists remark that a good percentage of patients who resort to hurting themselves are involved in what is more philosophical than psychological- they need to realise that they are around.

For him, that image of complete dependance, on regurgitating whatever she ate, on looking on listlessly, dealt the same effect. Reflecting on it made him realise he was around.

Words had so much power. Words like "cancer' sealed fate. Words like "terminal", and "last few days" and "sorry" changed philanderers and drunkards into guilt-stricken, deep penitant philosophers.

He wondered which was his word, that sealed his fate. Which was the word that could really change. which was the word that described his 25 years of pathetic existence?

Ahead a sight loomed into focus. A group of devout worshippers gathering and making what looks like a pilgrimage: from a certain end to another, holding candles and singing hymns. Curiosity gripped him.

There were something in those woshipper's eyes, that he'd seen in his own a long while back. Was that a smile he saw? Was that a tear? What could move these people to reveal so much of themselves? He moved closer.

There he stood, in growing awe of the spiritual. People came together, without the veil of gestures, handshakes and smiles. People came together regardless of what they thought of each other. They were together, to be together.

Ahead, the candle light dispelled the darkness.

Ahead, the hymns filled melancholy with melody.

Ahead, he didnt understand. He only felt. It didnt matter the reason of what they were doing. It mattered what happened during what they did.

Ahead, the entire day replayed itself in a different key. The musical, the crowd, the time in the dark, the reflections in front of the cemetary, took on what could only be described as 'light'.

Light that broke through loneliness, monotony and morbidity.

Ahead, for possibly the first time in his life, he thought he saw a glimpse of himself.

2007-02-10T02:03:00.000+08:00

scent of a woman.

Does this sound like your typical horny or sentimental, bimbo all's-well-that-end's-well kinda show? Or does this sound like a murderous, sick 'basic instinct', 'silence of the lambs' kind of movie title? The truth is...

Well, truth be told, there are so many themes interwoven brought so subtly and yet powerfully by the God of actor himself, Al Pacino, that one cant really say for sure, what genre should this fall under. Romance? Well yea. Or was it? Comedy? Hha..almost.

Lets begin trying, as people without credentials nor name, to discover the brilliance behind this queer genre of such magnificence.

Al Pacino holds a charisma not many can hold a candle to. The only one i can really think of, that perhaps matches, is John Travolta. Nevertheless, he's a movie veteran with masterpieces like Heat (michael Mann), The Godfather, Devil's Advocate!! Now, he star as an degenerated, disillusioned, dismissed Colonel. The show doesnt go into detail of how he's suffered. But thats the genius behind the acting: the subtle story telling, and tear jerking confrontations with co-actor Chris O'Donnell, reflects a life devoid of hope and love. A life seeking redemption and recovery.

And yes, its a weekend that 'lives will never be the same'. All too cliched, and the first impression that hit me was...one more Tuesday With Morrie. And the sigh.
The way this movie is being screened is just about the complete antithesis of Tuesdays with Morrie, with cynicism, lust, anger and lost. But the theme eventually brought out, is subtly one of love, of dignity, of integrity, of honesty, and of honour.

I think, its the way Pacino grabs attention effortlessly. Or I think its the way he speaks. Or I think its the way he tangoes. "when you get tangled up, you tango on..."

And that tune of tango, in the way its screened with the all-too-charismatic Pacino on it, is a sight of pleasure. Its not a pleasant sight. Its a pleasurable sight. Pleasant sounds like its just easy on the eyes. Pleasurable: there's a certain joy and a longing that such a moment would never end, as all pleasures do.

Am I an expert on dialogue? No. Am I an analyst on screen play and movie directing? Definitely not. Do i have any credentials whatsoever to make judgment on how and why a movie is oscar-deserving? NO! But, as a simple movie viewer, who goes through the crux and struggles of life, and acknowledge the numerous and desperate cries for a saviour, I can say that i am a representative of that very average joe, to make a comment on a deep portrayal of friendship developed, in all realism and synchrony with the mordern day dillemmas of 'to-be or not to be'.

And lastly, i am a man of facts. And one fact is this. Its an Oscar winner of 93! Best Actor. Nuff Said.

2007-02-04T16:16:00.000+08:00

There's no other way...than to say goodbye.

F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Ross, Rachel, Pheobe, Joey, Monica, Chandler and Rachel. The 7 idiosyncracies of humour, enjoyment, fun, sadness and most essentially, love that grabbed my attention in '06.

And now, 10 seasons, thats almost 10*24= 240 episodes, and alot of money.. has ended. The wonder of this season (and FYI the only season that i ever really followed from start to end), is that the characters, and the humour- sarcasm or slapstick, are all well, real! Yes its entertainment, but i am willing to bet, that after 10 seasons, many will agree that such entertainment has become more than simply wasting away time. Would i go so far as to say it has become a part of me?

And thats done. Sadly.

mp3 player

well, thats gone as well. My fantastic companion drumming its inspiring and adrenaline-pumping tunes into me, getting my speed high and the time low. Keeping my spirits up to do the all-time-classic-sprint from serangoon cc to shell petrol kiosk, with 'How Great is Our God'!

That was really stupid of me, to just leave it there and happily walk off without it. How could I?
Just like the bicycle when i was in pri sch, jsut like the baby g and Seiko!

Marcus & Nathaniel

Down Under. Goodbye and good luck. These memories will stay etched and wondrous for the years to come, till we meet again. Whats like singing gay music under the stars? Whats like sweeping the road every morning,with only each other as support? Whats like reaching out to each other in times of 'crises'? Whats like making fun and a fool of each other?
Thats something not many will know.

Wed late nights

Ok, this is not somehting nostalgic. Its something i have really had enough of.
This clubbing thing has stopped man. 1 bad experience, i can still handle. 2, probably tolerate and see pass. but 4??

FOUR times this place feels like the epitome of superficiality. The masquerade of todays' society is in the form of mascara, figure, the correct eye-signal, the 'appropriate' dance 'manuevers'.
The starting sequence of 'Crash', has this saying 'we long for touch so much we actually have to crash into each other to feel someone'.
I believe that clubbing essentially is that. Just that they dont crash, they pay 23 dollars. The girls just go in, anyway.

Blasting, vulgar 'thumps' ( i wouldnt even attempt to call that music), has taken the place of meaningful conversations- how we attempt to know people in the past, and how we attempt to know them now, is dramatically different. I read this article in Economist, of how people in france, hold conversations that essentially reveal a person's social strata and personality. That was the 18th century. Today.. apparently simply scrutinising a person from head to heel, in the dazzle of lights and booze, with a background of noise, effectively gives a man his measure.
Imagine if say...st Augustine were to live in 21st century!
We have ministry of education, law; we have children and adult ministries in church; and we have the ministry of sound.

So yes, goodbye to that. FOR GOOD.

9 o'clock show
Although i didnt watch every episode, i still enjoyed it for what it was worth.
Yes, typical channel 8 serial, but with a very melodious soundtrack.
Think it was pretty wise directing, and for singapore, pretty darn good acting.
Using 'chasing cars' and composing 'xiang ting de hua', was very effective in drawing out emotions and enhancing the moment.
Trying desperately to get the songs tho.

2007-01-27T15:32:00.000+08:00

How Has It Been?

Im one week away from being done with army. Before i lose all memory of what happened, lets go through the illustrious and more-often-than-not humourous list of events that took place, and that laid an enigmatic foundation to receive the civilian world all over again.

Chronologically, (or how it comes to mind)
1) Into to BMT with Jie and Mum. Daryl called me the night itself, was in a place of complete uncertainity.
2) Got to know Ivan Ong, in alot more depth over a single guard duty session
3) POP with Mum Jie and Kenny attending.

4) Actual unit life begins.
5) Downgrade and then upgrade. - Learned to face my reality with courage.
6) Nonchalance for comm life sets in dramatically- what used to be sheer passion, waded off over time and indifference.
7) Set up Cell Group with Nathaniel, Hau Tzeng, Nicholas Koh, Wilson, Brendan, Gabriel.
8) Course- overseas trips- outfields- nothing out of the ordinary for a typical nation-serving patriot. ha.

9) The beginning of the hiccups and screwups. Mosquito Coil, lost components, mp3 player, the whole she-bang. The rule of causality demands punishment. So, the scolding, the signings, the charging. Argh.
10) The books. An average of 1 book a week. The search for purpose and peace through it.
11) Grace. Definitely. The search for and the finding. No pun intended.
12) Church camps? 2 sec 2s and 1 sec 3. The final camp nailed the coffin on comm.
13) Which led to the inevitable departure.

14) The songs that constantly tided me through- Dance with My Father, God's Will.
15) The eventual conviction of what i want to do. What i have to do.
16) The false and the real, in the friendships and in who i am.
17) Difficult people and tense situations, the masks we wear, and the human underneath them.

18) Coming to terms with Comm over time and grueling CST.
19) Camaraderie that need constant replenishing, that adversity brings about.
20) People who were there, for an instance
21) people who were there, throughout

22) moulding of thought and confidence, slowly but surely.
23) Christmases
24) Friends- Gabriel, Desmond, Zong Rong: you are the people i rely on and who give me the motivation and company to go on.
25) Friends- Nath and Hautzeng: you are the inspirations the cell group needs, and the perspectives that we couldnt have done without
26) Friends- Brendan and Marcus: We've had our differences, but i was glad i went aus with you, and to Marcus, its an overwhelming tearjerker to see you arrive in your jeep to fetch us every outfield. haha.

And i will perhaps add to the list, in due time. It was a fantastic ride.

2007-01-17T22:13:00.000+08:00

Social Awareness. One huge hurdle to cross.

My bro blogged one about emotions. Now for the sheer excitement of argument, somewhat inspired by yesterday's titillating encounter of MGS vs St Nicks, in The Arena, and because i am particularly brain-dead and have to start 'cranking' up the engines, lets launch foolishly into debate.

We shall mimick the rules of debate and state a proposition. Now given my brother's blog, the effective proposition would be "Emotions are an essential tool to life", my brother so eloquently expressed. Well, he just said emotions are tools. But that leaves little room for debate since just about everything can be.

Emotions are nothing more than electrical impulses stimulated by our sensory systems. If we establish that as a definition or common ground for understanding, we can naturally rule out how emotions provide us such tools to life. For circumstances as perceived by the individual are effectively well, individual, one might actually go so far as to think what emotions is perceived by which individual, and if such, does it really prove to be of substantial worth.

Yes of course, in a matter of fight or flight, adrenaline does bring up the feeling of say nervousness, anxiousness, excitement. Thats established by the science advocates. Well, hypothetically, are they ONLY the tool to life? Is there no rationality involved? And lets give a person incapable of rationalising, are emotions going to serve him in the way most adequate to react to a tense situation?

One argument atheists hold in contempt for say, organised religion, is the way the notion of fear is being instilled. Moral imperatives now have no longer a philosophical foundation, but an emotional one: which also means if one actually rationalises such the idea of 'hell' or 'condemnation', and finds no meaning in it, and as a result does not fear it, well... we are effectively approaching the idea of chaos and anarchy arent we? So yes, fear does govern, but if we give it such importance and remark it as a tool to life, we are expressing more than that which is necessary. Emotions are at most, useful.

Now, we are free to redefine and reallocate parameters to the meaning of emotions, since according to wikipedia and its vast resources, 'the term has no single universally accepted definition'.

Nevertheless, emotions serve as part of a social and perhaps cultural construct. A cannibalistic native would probably see and experience murder very different from a say, you. A policeman who witnesses murder probably confronts it alot less non chalantly as from a businessman. Point being, we can generalise and speak about compassion and empathy and passion as "drives", but ultimately its choices, made more often on rational thought and decisive action that makes all the difference.

In fact, given that, we might wanna consider whether emotions have more often than not been a nuisance! What does 'a night of passion' means to you. Does it 'feel' like an emotionally charged, loosely thought out one- night- stand, for the sheer purpose of say...emotional satisfaction? Hell, the meaning of manslaughter effectively means 'murder without malice aforethought', which generally happens in a fit of say, anger? The emotion described so euphemistically as the outburst of truth, just happened to cover that aspect of truth up didnt it? ( Ok, dont get offended man, its for argument's sake and im bored.)

Walk through the thoughts of theologians and theists, and they probably tell you abit about emotions. Then, they would tell you abit about love. And finally, as if out of ostentatiousness, they will tell you the difference between love and emotions. Does a marriage couple 'feel' as much as they did, the way they did ten years before? Perhaps. But perhaps not. Emotions as tools to life??

....................................feel like i can go on. But, am tired. And it leaves room for debate. perhaps in my next post.

Anyway, there's stuff to be done tomo!
1) simlim
2) beach road
3) watch illusionist with mel
4) catechist meeting
5) confession!

ok the numbers are NOT indicative of their priorities. haha. But argh, there's just so much to do.

2007-01-14T16:17:00.000+08:00

And what was the week like? Hectic.

Blood Diamond! i thought Djimoun Hounsou's (the african guy?) acting was superb. ' i am your father...and you are my son', that part was especially moving. And comment all you want about DiCaprio. But he's starred in some of the epics and 5 star classics man. Gangs of New York, Titanic, The Departed. Golden Globe winner..i already see an oscar coming up.

I watched with Torrence, Linus, Yi Ming and Chian Yee.
These are my pals. And this year's birthday, i have got a very good mind to make it really somehting for them. Then there's Desmond and Munpun's.

I find it intriguing planning such stuff. Like how i was involved with Gab's? thats my platoon mate, and best buddy. Innocent and humble, a person i've come to trust and rely on.

If i learnt something from army, its really how to deal with people. But with Gab, i need not know such technicalities. I can just be free and he'd listen.

Then there was Chian Yee' s birthday yest! Is always fun being out with the marist guys la. There's something about the past that we hold on to so tightly, that generates such warmth when we get together.

Oh man, i always do such posts when im slightly emo. haha..but its good la, i know a few months or years down the road when i look back, it'll be fond memories.

There's something about my life i have not confronted and am continually trying to vanquish.
Fear.
Its that which gets me agitated about people and stages and talks.
Its that which forces my ideas back down my throat.
Its that which stops me from loving.
Its that which stops me from shining.
Its that which i will break out of.

2007-01-07T01:09:00.000+08:00

WHAT A WEEK

1) there's sending Aunty Anula to Physio and getting into a short tiff with my army mates cuz they just cant understand how much i needa go hospital.

2)Alright, then there's Shella's birthday tt i couldnt attend, cuz gotta send Fang Long off.
Tt day, had a great talk with Alvin after what seemed like years. hah. Brilliant guy and with fantastic topics that intrigue and liberate.

3) Chian Yee's birthday, bought him a cake-durian by the way. Proud of myself. Got to meet up with Victor, another long-time-no-see, friend. Remember my 2 posts back about friends and covering ground? Tt was quite like it.

4) Gobind's birthday and Jonathan Chia's birthday.Nice meeting up with Eve, Char, Shella, Daniel, Galvin, John and of course bday boy gobind himself.
And Jonathan Chia's? The usual marist gang, that i played soccer with earlier this morning and assisted in the scoring of a GOAL!!!ok yes, sounds like damn mediocre achievement, but seriously man...i was instrumental to that goal, and it sure felt GOOD. haha.
Also, thanks to the very encouraging marist friends la. Always feel crappy playing soccer with them, cuz too lousy. :)

And what's ahead??

1) Meeting with army friends for Gab's present. Damn stress man. Really wanna make it a special one for him. Proving more and more difficult.

2) Meeting lynette, and her birthday's the next day. So well, let's see how unique i can make the meet up.

3) Next wk's Gabriel's and Chian Yee's birthday celebration on the same day!! Gotta jump here and there la..

4) and wk after's John's birthday. Oh my goodness and i promised him i'll do the organising, which i must la. It's his 21st, and i think the class treated him horrendously, though he's still seen as part of us. So, this is my own way of redemption, and i guess its just nice to show he's still appreciated as a VJ friend, and that withstands the test of time.

5) There's guard duty. Yea...

6) Somehow...just SOMEHOW, i've become a catechist. needa find that conviction, and intellect and charisma.

John 10:10, "i have come so that you might have life, and to have it to the full"

What a start. Hhaa..and im pretty much bankrupt.

2007-01-01T16:58:00.000+08:00

Yesterday and Today.

We reached the 2 very unique days of the year. Yesterday, and Today.
The Past and the Present pave the way for the future. Thus, yesterday and today, makes up the tomorrow that we hope for.
Yesterday we reflect, yesterday we remember and yesterday we take stock.
Today, we make resolutions! Today, we make choices and today we seize.

So, lets talk Yesterday. To begin.
Yesterday, i remember.
I remember the Places- Thailand, Hong Kong, San Francisco, Australia.
I remember the new faces- cheryl, renji, BSO, jackson, poh,shanker, Grace?
I recall the movements- into law, and outta comm.
I recall the days- yiming's bday, sec2camp, the SOLs, the Extras, the sentosa trips
I remember the old faces.
I remember the movies. Definitely, the movies. :)

And the gift of today. The Present.
Make no mistake, today we begin a path to greatness.
Today, we make things happen: we'll cross our boundaries and break our limits, we'll enter unfriendly terrain and we become Columbuses of our lives.
For all who can understand the potential this day holds for all of us- it is the day where epiphanies flow, where decisions inspire where resolutions pave the path for a Man to become fully alive!
Why? Because we hit a threshold. We're at another beginning. True, this beginning is not independent of yesterday, but we get to say 'hey, that was yesterday'. Today we get another shot.
What we lost yesterday, today's our day to fight back and retrieve. Today's brilliance will make up for yesterday's darkness. Today will heal yesterday's wounds.

Time is God's gift to the human race. And today, we stand in awe of that Present.
This gift, puts us in a certain position of strength. Why? Perspective. Yes, perspective.
Yesterday's disappointment and cynicism makes us cry our for a saviour. We hit a dead end, and yesterday morning, the air we heaved out was one of resignation.

Today, we put things in a proper perspective! I meant to use 'another perspective', but proper makes right.
This morning, a new breath of air hit us. Key word here is 'new'. Fresh, cool, illuminating and refreshing breath of morning atmosphere grips us. Because there is no longer a dead end- we find a door. More than that, we find that the door is unlocked.
What is that? Opportunity. Chance.
So what if people hurt us? So what if we feel stumbled by inadequacies? So what if we have lost?
Today we get up. We wipe off the blood and sweat, we take that breath of fresh air, tighten that clenched fist and continue the bout.
The day is pregnant with possibilities and with that, endless chances!

And with that, lets not ask whether we have, but lets instead do. We were made for beauty. As marianne williamson goes, this life will be a spectacle. And on this day, we grip our magnificence as we wait in glorious hope as we begin retrieving, we begin claiming and we begin believing; today is that Big Break. Today, we live.