Have you ever sat in an empty hall or in a huge living room and hear someone play the piano? It is an uncontrollable feeling as if something hollow has just been filled with a substance or a spirit that occupies that corner of that space except that its presence could be felt everywhere. It is interesting to note that it is not the music but the hollowness that accentures the beauty of the music. Try hearing the same music being played in a crowded space and the effect is gone. Sometimes you wonder, it is just a space, there is nothing in it. What can you do with nothingness? But to me that nothingness is no thing but the mere presence of being at the moment. Living at that moment without anticipation or feeling any form of extreme emotion.
I came to a realization that no matter what I do, the world is not going to stop rotating. Neither are the people around me going to stop working. Work is always going to be there, awaiting for me. No matter what people tell me about taking time off to relax and not think about work, I will do the exact opposite. It is just like telling someone not to think about the white elephant with pink pokka dots. This then becomes a problem. How do you take a break from work when it constitutes ¾ of your life? How can you break away for a while from all the relationships that you foster when in nature you are a social workaholic?
That is exactly what I am doing now. Taking a break, does not mean just doing nothing. It is doing something that breaks the process of what you usually do. It is a break from routine and creating another routine You can’t run away from anything but you can work around it. This moment where you break the routine and create another is what I called hollowness. It is the small gaps in a jar called life.
Our life is filled up with so many huge occasions or events like boulders. We have plenty of gaps to fill. It is these gaps that reminds us that no matter how busy we are, there is always time for us to do things. It is sure way to regain your sense of sanity.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Wee hours writing
I can’t sleep right now. It is 12.42am in the morning and I have a course in exactly nine hours time and my eyelids just refuse to shut. Am I excited about something? Maybe or maybe not. I suppose there is a momentary excitement as my friend just sms me that she is back from her holidays and we will be meeting up. But is that enough to keep me awake? I don’t think so. But I am less tired now. Perhaps the thought of writing has perked me up. I find writing in the wee hours in the morning rather enticing. The feeling of your hands over your keyboard rattling away as your thoughts take the express train to town. A feeling that is hard to explain but can only be simply understood as writing.
I read a book today called the Lazy Millionaire. You must be giggling at the thought of me reading such a book. Why would a teacher who has a “stable” (nothing is stable in this world) government controlling job have anything to do with being a millionaire? You are right. It has nothing to do with me. I am not going to be a millionaire in the next three years of my life since I have signed THE CONTRACT. But that does not mean you can’t think like one.
I like the idea of how simple it is to be a millionaire. It has nothing to do with getting rich schemes but it has everything to do with the way we live and think. You know my poor old mother has been drumming this idea into my head for ages and yet I only realize it after reading the book. My mother may not be a millionaire but her thought process was close or similar to one. Maybe that is why she was able to break the poverty cycle and live in a relatively comfortable life. Though I know she could do better.
I like my life. It has been great so far (THANK GOD for that). But I realize that things have changed. Just like in the novel, THE GIVER. I have started to see colour, shades of colours. The colours change. For me I see gold, white and blue. The colours that symbolizes something that is fundamentally mine. A reminder of the past and yet the mystery of the future. I am frightened yet intrigued when confronted by the colors. Some of you may think, “Oh she is talking philosophically” Actually I am not talking anything near that scale. I am just describing, narrating an incident that seems to evolve on its own. Do you need to understand what I am talking about? No. Well if you did, then you would understand why a Raven is just like a desk.
I read a book today called the Lazy Millionaire. You must be giggling at the thought of me reading such a book. Why would a teacher who has a “stable” (nothing is stable in this world) government controlling job have anything to do with being a millionaire? You are right. It has nothing to do with me. I am not going to be a millionaire in the next three years of my life since I have signed THE CONTRACT. But that does not mean you can’t think like one.
I like the idea of how simple it is to be a millionaire. It has nothing to do with getting rich schemes but it has everything to do with the way we live and think. You know my poor old mother has been drumming this idea into my head for ages and yet I only realize it after reading the book. My mother may not be a millionaire but her thought process was close or similar to one. Maybe that is why she was able to break the poverty cycle and live in a relatively comfortable life. Though I know she could do better.
I like my life. It has been great so far (THANK GOD for that). But I realize that things have changed. Just like in the novel, THE GIVER. I have started to see colour, shades of colours. The colours change. For me I see gold, white and blue. The colours that symbolizes something that is fundamentally mine. A reminder of the past and yet the mystery of the future. I am frightened yet intrigued when confronted by the colors. Some of you may think, “Oh she is talking philosophically” Actually I am not talking anything near that scale. I am just describing, narrating an incident that seems to evolve on its own. Do you need to understand what I am talking about? No. Well if you did, then you would understand why a Raven is just like a desk.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
A Connective Christmas
Today is Christmas and guess what, it just feels like another public holiday. Maybe because, here I am, staying at home, with a bad flu and a sore throat, which I have to say is rapidly curing by itself. I am sitting at my brother’s computer multi tasking. Watching , ”You’re got mail’’ and writing at the same time. That movie never fails to inspire me to things I would have never done. Like blogging. It has been ages since I blogged. You know sometimes you have no idea if people are reading your blog and keeping up with your life. That is all thanks to Facebook. I mean this whole year I have been so active in facebook. It is just an easy way to express oneself. From breakups to hook ups. It is an instant way of getting news around. It is like having your own paparazzi. It is fun but sometimes you wonder how long is this going to last? I mean the next thing you know, it is going to be replaced by some new techno gadget. You might be wondering, why in the world is this girl blabbering when she herself is using the tool that techno survivalist are using?
You are right. I am using the technological tools that everyone is using but again the issue is not about the usage of it but how much of it do you use. I just spend some time with my family, going off for a holiday. And this time round, I did not announce in Facebook that I am going off but I just took off, leaving on my vacation reply that I am unavailable for a certain period of time in my various email accounts. I did not bring my blackberry and refuse to update my status in fb, which was what my brother has been doing throughout the whole journey. It felt good. To disappear and not been asked where and what has happened to you. I returned home two days ago and only checked my email and not my fb. It felt good. To have some privacy to myself especially during the holidays. Just myself and I. I love writing and have now gone back to doing it. I suppose blogging is fine as you only vocalise what you intend to talk about. I like blogging. It is like writing and publishing a piece in a journal. The only difference is that you are your own writer and publisher and not a penny spend.
Sometimes I wonder if life would be the same without all these gadgets. I mean we are so accessible through all forms but what happens if one day they all disappear? What would life be like? I mean, take for instance the movie I am watching while typing, “You’ve got mail”. The magic in meeting a stranger through exchange of emails is the same as “Sleepless in Seattle” except that the characters met each other after writing mails and speaking on radios. I suppose the magic still exist it is just what form it takes, be it through the internet or radio or even in your dreams.
This Christmas is a special one for me. I can’t explain why or in what manner. But all I can say is that it is a cosmological connection. Despite living in a world that is run by machines and man, there is always that special magic or connection that cannot be explained. Part of life that is obsolete of all technology and yet it brings you things you could only imagine or wish upon a shooting star.
To all a merry connective Christmas!!
You are right. I am using the technological tools that everyone is using but again the issue is not about the usage of it but how much of it do you use. I just spend some time with my family, going off for a holiday. And this time round, I did not announce in Facebook that I am going off but I just took off, leaving on my vacation reply that I am unavailable for a certain period of time in my various email accounts. I did not bring my blackberry and refuse to update my status in fb, which was what my brother has been doing throughout the whole journey. It felt good. To disappear and not been asked where and what has happened to you. I returned home two days ago and only checked my email and not my fb. It felt good. To have some privacy to myself especially during the holidays. Just myself and I. I love writing and have now gone back to doing it. I suppose blogging is fine as you only vocalise what you intend to talk about. I like blogging. It is like writing and publishing a piece in a journal. The only difference is that you are your own writer and publisher and not a penny spend.
Sometimes I wonder if life would be the same without all these gadgets. I mean we are so accessible through all forms but what happens if one day they all disappear? What would life be like? I mean, take for instance the movie I am watching while typing, “You’ve got mail”. The magic in meeting a stranger through exchange of emails is the same as “Sleepless in Seattle” except that the characters met each other after writing mails and speaking on radios. I suppose the magic still exist it is just what form it takes, be it through the internet or radio or even in your dreams.
This Christmas is a special one for me. I can’t explain why or in what manner. But all I can say is that it is a cosmological connection. Despite living in a world that is run by machines and man, there is always that special magic or connection that cannot be explained. Part of life that is obsolete of all technology and yet it brings you things you could only imagine or wish upon a shooting star.
To all a merry connective Christmas!!
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
A reflection at this point of my life
I have been told many times to reflect on my life as it helps me to grow. I never really knew the right way of reflecting on what is happening in my life until recently. To those who are in touch with me in my social and professional circle, you would know what is going on in my life at this moment. I am going through an array of emotions at this point of my life and sometimes I wish, just like Alice in Wonderland, I could just pinch myself and wake up from this absurdity. However, I can't and have to face it. I suppose writing out my train of thoughts would help.
I am in a situation in which I am being punished for something I have not done. It is a blow to one's self esteem and aspirations. I sometimes ask myself, "WHy me?" But then again "WHy not me?" If something is happening to me means that there is something I need to learn. In this situation it is not a materialistic lesson as much as a life lesson, in my case, "lessons"
Lesson One: Welcome to Politics
A friend once told me, "Ling, it is no point doing your masters (this was when I finished my degree and was thinking of doing my masters) Go out and work. School does not teach you how to survive in life. Work does. The first thing you will learn is politics. And, this is an important lesson and the faster you learn, the better for you." I did not understand the full impact of this phrase until now. My first lesson in work was about politics. It's a nasty business and you need to be resilient in order to come out sane.
Lesson Two: It's a two sided coin, where you would have enemies but also supporters
It is easy to lose your own identity when you are stuck in politics. You wonder if you were the one at fault. Your enemies would force you to believe that they are right. For those who watch Shutter Island you would understand what I am talking about when I say I was in Leonardo's shoes, forced to believe that you were the one who was insane. However, there will also be a group of people who would stand by your side to assure you that you are not insane and that what is happening to you is real. They come in when you least expect them and sometimes they are not even your best friend but they understand your plight. To these group of people (a huge group, I dare say) I am always grateful.
Lesson Three: Identify your flaws and don't take it for granted
I realised that it is so easy to just blame it on others for the situation you are in. I think the bigger challenge is to face the fact that you too have flaws.I feel unsettle when I write the above sentence but it is true. I have flaws and I admit I am not perfect. I realised that I could have thought through things and be more careful in the way I handle certain circumstances. I could have better understood a situation and taken proper actions. but what is done is done. I can't turn back time. But, like the Prince of Persia, I can make it better but learning from my mistakes and careful planning. It has been a humbling situation and one that requires me to first admit that I had made mistakes. Now what next?
Lesson Four: Move on
I think the best part of making mistakes and being stuck in a sticky situation is getting the best out of it and moving on. It takes alot of courage to move on and not dwell in the past. I learn that each time I move on, something happens to my mind, a sudden surge of connections that were never there is established and you slow down and see things differently. My mom calls it maturity. I call it epiphany. Either ways, you start thinking differently and see things in a rather interesting manner. Call me bonkers, but I actually enjoy what is happening around me. A sense of fear and excitement surrounds me when I realise how vulnerable I can be and how strong I can get.
Lesson Five: Learn to prioritize
In the midst of what is happening, I suddenly find myself in other situations where I am suddenly confronted for things that are the least important at this moment of my life. And no matter how you put the message across, some people just don't get it. It suddenly dawns to you that to them they are the center of the world. They are really so duff to understand what is happening in your life. They just go on and on. This made me realise that they are times in my life you just have to ignore these people because no matter what you say they just DON'T GET IT. It's so annoying for me. So I learn to prioritize what is important in my life. If it is not helping you to grow, shuff it in the shelve, despite, knowing that the other party would be bitching about you no matter what you say they JUST DON"T GET IT. Too bad, I suppose that's life and I am least bothered with it.
Conclusion
After writing this out, I feel much better. My thoughts are much clearer and I feel a better sense of what I am doing and how I can handle what is thrown at me. It is amazing how life unfolds and all it takes is just a change in angle to see how beautiful life can get
NB: Thanks Jason, point noted
I am in a situation in which I am being punished for something I have not done. It is a blow to one's self esteem and aspirations. I sometimes ask myself, "WHy me?" But then again "WHy not me?" If something is happening to me means that there is something I need to learn. In this situation it is not a materialistic lesson as much as a life lesson, in my case, "lessons"
Lesson One: Welcome to Politics
A friend once told me, "Ling, it is no point doing your masters (this was when I finished my degree and was thinking of doing my masters) Go out and work. School does not teach you how to survive in life. Work does. The first thing you will learn is politics. And, this is an important lesson and the faster you learn, the better for you." I did not understand the full impact of this phrase until now. My first lesson in work was about politics. It's a nasty business and you need to be resilient in order to come out sane.
Lesson Two: It's a two sided coin, where you would have enemies but also supporters
It is easy to lose your own identity when you are stuck in politics. You wonder if you were the one at fault. Your enemies would force you to believe that they are right. For those who watch Shutter Island you would understand what I am talking about when I say I was in Leonardo's shoes, forced to believe that you were the one who was insane. However, there will also be a group of people who would stand by your side to assure you that you are not insane and that what is happening to you is real. They come in when you least expect them and sometimes they are not even your best friend but they understand your plight. To these group of people (a huge group, I dare say) I am always grateful.
Lesson Three: Identify your flaws and don't take it for granted
I realised that it is so easy to just blame it on others for the situation you are in. I think the bigger challenge is to face the fact that you too have flaws.I feel unsettle when I write the above sentence but it is true. I have flaws and I admit I am not perfect. I realised that I could have thought through things and be more careful in the way I handle certain circumstances. I could have better understood a situation and taken proper actions. but what is done is done. I can't turn back time. But, like the Prince of Persia, I can make it better but learning from my mistakes and careful planning. It has been a humbling situation and one that requires me to first admit that I had made mistakes. Now what next?
Lesson Four: Move on
I think the best part of making mistakes and being stuck in a sticky situation is getting the best out of it and moving on. It takes alot of courage to move on and not dwell in the past. I learn that each time I move on, something happens to my mind, a sudden surge of connections that were never there is established and you slow down and see things differently. My mom calls it maturity. I call it epiphany. Either ways, you start thinking differently and see things in a rather interesting manner. Call me bonkers, but I actually enjoy what is happening around me. A sense of fear and excitement surrounds me when I realise how vulnerable I can be and how strong I can get.
Lesson Five: Learn to prioritize
In the midst of what is happening, I suddenly find myself in other situations where I am suddenly confronted for things that are the least important at this moment of my life. And no matter how you put the message across, some people just don't get it. It suddenly dawns to you that to them they are the center of the world. They are really so duff to understand what is happening in your life. They just go on and on. This made me realise that they are times in my life you just have to ignore these people because no matter what you say they just DON'T GET IT. It's so annoying for me. So I learn to prioritize what is important in my life. If it is not helping you to grow, shuff it in the shelve, despite, knowing that the other party would be bitching about you no matter what you say they JUST DON"T GET IT. Too bad, I suppose that's life and I am least bothered with it.
Conclusion
After writing this out, I feel much better. My thoughts are much clearer and I feel a better sense of what I am doing and how I can handle what is thrown at me. It is amazing how life unfolds and all it takes is just a change in angle to see how beautiful life can get
NB: Thanks Jason, point noted
Monday, May 24, 2010
Tale of Two (Part X)
Dark clouds were gathering outside the castle. The wind howled through the castle's windows. Nothing seem to be a missed in the eye of a passer-by. It just seemed to be an ordinary storm brewing.
" Are you sure you want to do this Tarika?" asked the king. The princess looked up. It had been a long time since someone called her that name. Even the king himself called her Princess Aaratrika, an ancient sanskrit name that the king had named his daughter in favour of his best friend who sacrificed his life to save him in a battle once. It was that day that the princess was born.
"Yes father, we have to take them down if not they will launch another attack and we will lose even more of our people. I am not losing anyone anymore" replied the princess. She walked to the window, the clouds continued to gather.
"We don't have to do this you know. I mean if we could just give them what they wanted they would not bug us anymore"
"WHAT? GIVE THEM WHAT THEY WANT AFTER WHAT THEY DID?" bellowed the princess. She turned to face her dad, her rage was seizing through her. She was fuming. "How dare you say that?"
"No dear, what I meant was..." The princess held out her hand.
I am not giving anyone anything. You were not there when it happened. I am not as merciful as you are father." She bellowed.
"But my dear..." The princess stopped him again. She quickly faced the window before the tears start tearing down.
"Please leave. I want to be alone" she whispered. The King hesitated. He wanted to hug his daughter and comfort her but he knew it was no point. She needed her time alone. He quietly left slowly shutting the door. The princess felt the door shut and collapsed and cried. she was devastated. She remembered the incident as if it happened yesterday.
She was kneeling at the willow tree when she heard a loud cry. Suddenly the carnival had turned into a death arena. It was chaotic and people were running and screaming. Arrows were being shot at people and for the first time she came face to face with death. She was confused when suddenly she felt a huge arm around her lifting her. It was uncle Mar on his horse. "We need to get out of here" he cried
"What's going on? Why are we being attacked?" the princess asked as she adjust herself up on the horse.
"It's the highlanders. They have launched a sudden attack. Apparently they knew that we were coming to settle the deed and have instead choosen to deal with us with brutal force."
" But it makes no sense. We have not even told them about our proposal" shrieked the princess.
"They are highlanders, barbarians. They would never listen to us" scrowled Uncle Mar. The princess kept quiet. Something did not make sense. When she was asked to settle the matter with the highlanders, it seemed their representative was more than happy to settle the matter over an agreement. Why the sudden change?
Uncle Mar rode on into the forest. It seemed very quiet. The clouds were gathering above. Uncle mar stopped suddenly and got off his horse. He brought the princess down and dragged her into a small cave. "Stay here until you see one of our men. Whatever happens don't come out. Keep mum" The princess opened her mouth but Uncle Mar bent and kissed her forehead. There was a certain sadness in his eyes, The Princess felt queasy. Uncle Mar walked to where the horse was. Suddenly, the princess saw horses and men appearing out of no where. They were dressed unusually with what seemed like rags and the men were wearing shorts and skirts. The princess chuckled. It was funny to see men in shorts and skirts. But stopped. Something seemed wrong.
"Where is she?" asked the tall roughed looking man in a funny ascent.
"I don't have to tell you anything" Uncle Mar replied.The men stepped closer to him.
"Look, spare us your patriotism to the King. You were once a highlander, you traitor. Now you cleaning the king's butt?" they laughed. The princess was shocked. Uncle Mar was a highlander?
"Better than betraying my own clan" replied Uncle Mar spitefully. The laughter stopped.
"Whatcha talking about?" growled the man again. Uncle Mar sneered.
"You dame well know what I am talking about. I am not the one that killed my own brother so that I can take over the clan. I am not the one that banished my own family from the clan so that I can have my own rule. Who you talking about as a traitor? Have not seen the mirror lately, have you?"
The man who spoke when forth and slapped Uncle Mar and there was blood running from his nose. The Princess blood boiled. she was so tempted to come out of hiding and give the man a good trashing. But Uncle Mar looked at her while turning to face the man again. From his quick glance she knew he wanted her to stay where she was.
The man laughed. "They are all gone. I am the true clan and no one can ever defeat me"
"I won't be that sure. Adlus' clan is growing and one day you would be defeated" Uncle Mar replied.
"I will kill them all before your best friend can defeat me. Now tell me where is the girl?" he asked again.
"Over my dead body!" he spat at the man's face.
"Then die!" he screamed. The princess watched in slow motion as the man took a sliver dagger and stabbed Uncle Mar. Uncle Mar spit out blood and slowly cumbered to the ground while the man whose name was Bart was laughing out a cruel laugh. The Princess cried silently as she watched her beloved family member died alone. She wanted to run and hug him but his words rang in her ears. She sat there watching him, slowly dying. It was nightfall before one of her soldiers came, by then the princess had no more tears to cry. The princess later understood that there was a change in the leadership of the highlanders and that Bart their leader was a violent man who wanted to conquer more lands for his own interest. His new target was the Princess and her family.
It has been a year since Uncle Mar's murder. The war against Bart and highlanders have been an on going battle. BUt the only difference was now, the princess was in charge. Uncle Mar's death made her change. She wanted revenge. She cancelled her own wedding, trained harder and went to battle. She was more violent than she ever was. She was still the happy normal person that she had been but when it came to war she transformed to Joan of Arc and there was no stopping her. Over a year, she became more focus and daring and buried herself to being a warrior rather than a princess. Her parents had given up hope talking about marriage and she told them if they did anything against her wish she would leave the castle and disappear.
The clouds grew darker and it started to drizzle. A knock on the door
"Princess Aaratrika, may I come in?" The Princess wiped her tears. It was her general.
"Please do" and turned to face her general
" Are you sure you want to do this Tarika?" asked the king. The princess looked up. It had been a long time since someone called her that name. Even the king himself called her Princess Aaratrika, an ancient sanskrit name that the king had named his daughter in favour of his best friend who sacrificed his life to save him in a battle once. It was that day that the princess was born.
"Yes father, we have to take them down if not they will launch another attack and we will lose even more of our people. I am not losing anyone anymore" replied the princess. She walked to the window, the clouds continued to gather.
"We don't have to do this you know. I mean if we could just give them what they wanted they would not bug us anymore"
"WHAT? GIVE THEM WHAT THEY WANT AFTER WHAT THEY DID?" bellowed the princess. She turned to face her dad, her rage was seizing through her. She was fuming. "How dare you say that?"
"No dear, what I meant was..." The princess held out her hand.
I am not giving anyone anything. You were not there when it happened. I am not as merciful as you are father." She bellowed.
"But my dear..." The princess stopped him again. She quickly faced the window before the tears start tearing down.
"Please leave. I want to be alone" she whispered. The King hesitated. He wanted to hug his daughter and comfort her but he knew it was no point. She needed her time alone. He quietly left slowly shutting the door. The princess felt the door shut and collapsed and cried. she was devastated. She remembered the incident as if it happened yesterday.
She was kneeling at the willow tree when she heard a loud cry. Suddenly the carnival had turned into a death arena. It was chaotic and people were running and screaming. Arrows were being shot at people and for the first time she came face to face with death. She was confused when suddenly she felt a huge arm around her lifting her. It was uncle Mar on his horse. "We need to get out of here" he cried
"What's going on? Why are we being attacked?" the princess asked as she adjust herself up on the horse.
"It's the highlanders. They have launched a sudden attack. Apparently they knew that we were coming to settle the deed and have instead choosen to deal with us with brutal force."
" But it makes no sense. We have not even told them about our proposal" shrieked the princess.
"They are highlanders, barbarians. They would never listen to us" scrowled Uncle Mar. The princess kept quiet. Something did not make sense. When she was asked to settle the matter with the highlanders, it seemed their representative was more than happy to settle the matter over an agreement. Why the sudden change?
Uncle Mar rode on into the forest. It seemed very quiet. The clouds were gathering above. Uncle mar stopped suddenly and got off his horse. He brought the princess down and dragged her into a small cave. "Stay here until you see one of our men. Whatever happens don't come out. Keep mum" The princess opened her mouth but Uncle Mar bent and kissed her forehead. There was a certain sadness in his eyes, The Princess felt queasy. Uncle Mar walked to where the horse was. Suddenly, the princess saw horses and men appearing out of no where. They were dressed unusually with what seemed like rags and the men were wearing shorts and skirts. The princess chuckled. It was funny to see men in shorts and skirts. But stopped. Something seemed wrong.
"Where is she?" asked the tall roughed looking man in a funny ascent.
"I don't have to tell you anything" Uncle Mar replied.The men stepped closer to him.
"Look, spare us your patriotism to the King. You were once a highlander, you traitor. Now you cleaning the king's butt?" they laughed. The princess was shocked. Uncle Mar was a highlander?
"Better than betraying my own clan" replied Uncle Mar spitefully. The laughter stopped.
"Whatcha talking about?" growled the man again. Uncle Mar sneered.
"You dame well know what I am talking about. I am not the one that killed my own brother so that I can take over the clan. I am not the one that banished my own family from the clan so that I can have my own rule. Who you talking about as a traitor? Have not seen the mirror lately, have you?"
The man who spoke when forth and slapped Uncle Mar and there was blood running from his nose. The Princess blood boiled. she was so tempted to come out of hiding and give the man a good trashing. But Uncle Mar looked at her while turning to face the man again. From his quick glance she knew he wanted her to stay where she was.
The man laughed. "They are all gone. I am the true clan and no one can ever defeat me"
"I won't be that sure. Adlus' clan is growing and one day you would be defeated" Uncle Mar replied.
"I will kill them all before your best friend can defeat me. Now tell me where is the girl?" he asked again.
"Over my dead body!" he spat at the man's face.
"Then die!" he screamed. The princess watched in slow motion as the man took a sliver dagger and stabbed Uncle Mar. Uncle Mar spit out blood and slowly cumbered to the ground while the man whose name was Bart was laughing out a cruel laugh. The Princess cried silently as she watched her beloved family member died alone. She wanted to run and hug him but his words rang in her ears. She sat there watching him, slowly dying. It was nightfall before one of her soldiers came, by then the princess had no more tears to cry. The princess later understood that there was a change in the leadership of the highlanders and that Bart their leader was a violent man who wanted to conquer more lands for his own interest. His new target was the Princess and her family.
It has been a year since Uncle Mar's murder. The war against Bart and highlanders have been an on going battle. BUt the only difference was now, the princess was in charge. Uncle Mar's death made her change. She wanted revenge. She cancelled her own wedding, trained harder and went to battle. She was more violent than she ever was. She was still the happy normal person that she had been but when it came to war she transformed to Joan of Arc and there was no stopping her. Over a year, she became more focus and daring and buried herself to being a warrior rather than a princess. Her parents had given up hope talking about marriage and she told them if they did anything against her wish she would leave the castle and disappear.
The clouds grew darker and it started to drizzle. A knock on the door
"Princess Aaratrika, may I come in?" The Princess wiped her tears. It was her general.
"Please do" and turned to face her general
Tale of Two (Part IX)
I wrote this on the 3rd of dec last year, forgot to post it up
"It's nearly dinner princess. Wakie Wake"
The princess cracked open her eyes as her blurred vision started to find its placing. Slowly the view started to find its placing. Slowly the view started to come into focus and she saw her maid picking up her clothes which, were strewn all over her tent. She slowly caught herself up. Her head felt light and empty. Now she knew what it means when they use the expression, 'feeling light headed'. She yawned indecently without covering her mouth.
"Well it seems the mixture you drank had you hooked to the Goddess of sleep. The pure ecstasy of intoxication" sighed the maid.
The princess slowly recalled what had lead to her being light headed. After receiving the letter from Taylor she had lost her footing on earth and have been drifting in cloud 9 until, Uncle Mar popped in his head into the tent. He had brought her something sweet to drink. He had referred to it as soothing for the soul. It was in fact a herbal mixture which was usually given to people who are unable to sleep. uncle Mar thought the princess was feeling uneasy about the situation she was caught in and thought that the tonic would help ease her. The princess smiled. Uncle Mar was being the watchful and protective over her, just like a doting father. The princess wished that if she had another rebirth, she would be born to Mar as a daughter. She truly loved him as a father.
The princess yawned again. As she covered her mouth, she became aware of the noise surrounding her tent. She began to see shadows of people passing by her tent and heard all kinds of voices from children screaming to men laughing and women gossiping. She pulled her maid aside and inquired what was happening outside.
"Well princess, its a festival out there. It seems that everyone is joining in the mass feast that the village had prepared. A whole lot of food, dance, drinking happening out there. You better get dressed before you miss out the fun. with that the princess got up and tided herself.
As she stepped out of the tent, what greeted was no short of a parade. There seemed to be carriages and wagons and tents parked everywhere. People whom she had never seen before were strolling and moving around and greeting the princess at sight. However the main event was still at the center of the village and the princess made her way to the central. The music grew louder as she approached the central. It seems that the village's population had tripled and there were so many people all of a sudden. The princess felt as if she was in the mist of a great tidal wave and was having trouble breathing. Suddenly she felt something pull her from behind. She felt back only to find herself facing a huge manly chest. '
"You alright dear?" It was Uncle Mar and the princess smiled. Uncle Mar motioned her to a table nearby and passed her a dagger. He told her to keep it by her side, just in case she needed it. She knew that she would not be needing it with Uncle mar watching her like a hawk. The princess gave him a quick hug and bid farewell as she decided to explore the festival on her own.
The princess had no idea what she wanted to do but her heart seemed to know exactly what she wanted. Her eyes searched for Taylor. Apparently she seemed to be unable to locate him in the huge colourful mass. Suddenly she heard a familiar voice and turned around just in time to see her maid running towards her.
"Where in the world were you? Come on, we better hurry to the main table before all the food is taken up. I saw some really nice pudding" she screamed over the noise in the crowd, dragging the princess to the dining table.
It certainly was filled with so much food that the princess had trouble deciding what she wanted to eat. But after watching people grabbing food, she made a quick decision to just have some bread and meat. While eating at a corner, her eyes were still searching for Taylor. Then something struck her. Perhaps he was with the girl? Perhaps, they had decided to get together and patch things up. She suddenly lost her appetite and felt something burning in her belly. She had not seen the girl and Taylor. She dropped her half eaten food and continued to search for Taylor and the girl. As she searched furiously, she caught the sight of something unusual. A woman with a veil seemed to be staring at her from a distant. She was very well blended in the shadows of the caravan but her eyes shone like that of a cat on a night prowl.The princess was intrigued and she abandoned her search and walked towards where the old woman was standing.
"Princess where are you going" cried the maid. The princess did not reply and headed towards the caravan. The maid tailed behind having a strange feeling that they would be in somewhat of trouble but having faith that they could still escape if trapped.
The old lady moved into the caravan and the Princess turned and asked her maid to stand outside. The maid wanted to argue but the looks on the princess silenced her. As the princess went in, she saw various forms of crystals, glasses, lucky charms and weird exotic possessions. The lady unveiled herself. The princess realized she was in a gypsy's caravan! There seemed to be a mystic air surrounding her. She was curious. The princess had heard so much about gypsies and how they are the apprentices of the devil and that she should never associate with them. But the princess being herself have somewhat always been enticed by these people. In fact, her own nanny was a gypsy herself and she knew these people and what they did for a living. It was too bad that her nanny had to run away when the King ordered people who practised witchcraft to be burned. She never met her again. This lady however resembled her old nanny. The gypsy asked the princess to have a sit on the tool.
The Gypsy took out a pack of card. Under the deem candle lights, the princess knew they were tarot cards. The lady shuffled the cards, her eyes never leaving the princess and passed her the cards. the princess took the card and shuffled it with a particular question about Taylor. The smell of Jasmine filled the room. The old woman then placed three cards in front of her. The first card was a wolf on a hill at night, the second card was a whirlpool raising to the sky and the third was a picture of two towers. She looked at the woman
"Two tales apart
Two twines divine
Two are one
Two are divide
A choice of two
A Two of Thine"
The princess shook her head. She had no idea what the old woman was saying. She looked at the woman and she smiled.
" An age you are in that worries your parents. The devil's at work, a man to steal your heart. The angles at work, to restore it through a special young man. Two from your past, two spilled into your present. What you are unsure is which one is real and which one is fake. Who is who? You can't choose but have to do so. A decision of dread, a decision of death, a decision of life and only you can decide"
With that the lights went out and suddenly a make voice boomed in the caravan, "If I were you I would seek the one with the knowledge, the one that willows in nature". The princess was stunned and overcome with fear ran out of the caravan.
"Wait princess, where are you going?" screamed the maid trailing after her.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
The eternal moment
I have been thinking about a lot about Aging lately. I am only turning 25 this June and yet a feeling of bizarre weirdness surrounding me. "I am 25, now what?" Time seemed to be having a conspiracy against me, not revealing anything to do with my future. Yes, I am still busy with all that is happening in my reality, yet there is the silent me that is growing within me. The one that catches the lapse of time, the same time that my consciousness had failed to see.
To put it simply, I am aging. A process not solely a physical change but also mentally. To many I may still look and behave the same but, something else is going on inside of me, my mind,my soul. Lately I have been meeting some of my friends and conversations with them have somewhat left me confused and yet, amazed and satisfied in a unexplainable manner.
Take for instance, last weekend I met up with my friends who traveled with me to Sikkim. It was a catch up session for us and to do a mass reflection on how we felt after returning 5 months from the trip. Everyone shared. However, what my team leader Siva shared had an impact on me. He chose to live a simple life. He had sold his car and now cycles to work. He is planning to go for mountaineering course during the month of October till September. He does his part to save water. At first I thought, "What a crazy chap! So young and still wants to live a simple life?" I always assumed that people like my leader Siva would conquer more in terms of material asserts as he grows older but I was clearly wrong. I thought it was absurd consciously but something else in me was giving me an unease feeling. Whatever he had said somewhat haunted me. I then recalled the moments of eternal pleasure I had when I was climbing. Alone in that forest trek. The wind as my blanket, not a sound, just me and me alone walking in the forest. I felt my heart beat in harmony with the movement of mother nature. I felt a huge amount of relieve and excitement that I have never felt. It felt good. The eternal moment.
This thought extended when I went dragon boating on Sunday. I saw how my team mates who were in their forties were rowing with so much passion. The key idea according to my friend Jason who leads the active aging program is, focus. As you age, you become more focus. You know what you want and you tend to enjoy a lot more. That explains how men and women in their sixties are still able to be competitive in that age. I suppose Aging is a beautiful process, it just depends on how you see it.
I am currently reading this article in a magazine about aging gracefully. There is this story of a little girl who was shelling peas with her grandma. Suddenly she asked her grandma what she would do if she knew she was going to die in the next fifteen minutes. The grandma replied, "I would still be shelling peas with you". A powerful message. Living in the present, a beautiful way of eternalizing moments.
I am still thinking about Aging. I somewhat wonder if this thought is a result of my stagnation of time in my life or it is really a product of my fear of aging. I am yet to find out. But one thing is for sure, no matter how old I get, my life would still be as exciting as watching a Korean Soap Opera. Even if it is not, I am sure to screw up something so I have something to look forward to.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Inspiration -Idea of Surrealism
Thought I would share this amazing pictures through my blog. Presenting Lars Van De Goor's Photography...
Thursday, March 4, 2010
A teacher's entry: Exams
This week I am down for invigilation as my school is having common test. My first venue was at the hall. The moment I stepped in I felt a huge heavy intense feeling. It felt like some kind of land mine zone that I was stepping into (not that I had ever been to one, but I imagine that is how one would feel like) It was completely silent with the exception of pens scribbling away and the nervous small breathing that pulsated through the body ( yes, yes, I am developing the ability to feel heartbeats like carnivorous animals).
I suddenly recalled what it was like to be seating for exams. I was overwhelmed with the feeling of anxiousness and intense thrill as if something terrible but mind blowing was going to happen. I had always psyched myself before exams that I was going into a war zone and it does not matter what I did because in the end I am still going to end up being fertilizer to the plants. That was me. But now walking around I see different faces with different expressions and attitudes. It is funny how the body plays out what is running through the mind. It is so obvious to see when students are in full concentration and when they are momentarily stoning trying to see if they can find a clue somewhere from the lessons taught in school. And then there are the exceptions, the ones who care no rhyme or reason to whatever is going to happen in their lives and refuse to answer the questions or those whose brains only work after intervals of 10 mins of sleeping during the exam. Well, for me as well as they don't cheat I am fine.
As I walk to the end of the hall, another thought came by. In Singapore students are well trained and conditioned to seat for exams till they finish their education life. I wonder if they ever ponder about the idea if exams actually prepare them for life's test, a paper that we have to seat sometimes very second of our life. So as I continue to walk I imagine what it would be like if I were to set a test paper for a subject that I would like to teach and this is what I came up with.
Subject: Livelalife
There are altogether one printed page with three questions. You are to answer all three questions. A failure to do will deem you unfit to live.
LIFE SECTION
1) Solve the equation (10 Marks)
experience + intelligence / opportunities= success
2) "Trap in an iron cage" (20 Marks)
To what extent do you as the protagonist agree to this statement. Please cite examples from your text
3) Explain in detail the biological and psychological process that you undergo when facing a financial crisis (20 Marks)
The End
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Carrying out my long last wish
It's Valentine's day and I was busy painting my house with my parents when suddenly I have this bad urge to preserve a dead animal. I felt that I wanted to preserve dead things as if they were alive. Somewhat I thought what I asssumed was liking for fun was becoming somewhat a passion and I actually felt that the desire to help the dead was not just a thought formulated from bordeom and that I really was interested in doing so. To my surprise my parents were really supportive with the idea but the only problem was that dead was a serious job and already having a day job was a problem and I needed to find a way to work things out. I was serious about being a mortician and it was something that I wanted to do. I mean I would like to conduct my own parent's funeral and my mother had specifically given me instructions for her funeral.
I am not sure if I would manage to do what I want to do but if faith permits me I hope some day I would be able to be a mortician. It may affect my social life but its something I would like to do unless faith has something else planned for me
I am not sure if I would manage to do what I want to do but if faith permits me I hope some day I would be able to be a mortician. It may affect my social life but its something I would like to do unless faith has something else planned for me
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
My in class Literature Assignment
Begin a story with, “It was a dark and stormy night…”
It was a dark and stormy night, Marcus stood firmly rooted to the ground. His eyes staring straight at Jim. He did not dare blink. It was raining cats and dogs and Marcus was drenched wet and yet all he was focused on was Jim. Marcus knew he was a boy at the wrong place at the wrong time. But he had to do what he had to do, despite the danger he was putting himself in.
Jim had not moved an inch, he stood as firm as Marcus on the ground. Marcus knew that a slight movement would be the start of the next Iraq war. Marcus knew he should not have entered the doors of his arch enemy but circumstances had lead him to it. If only he and his friends had not decided to play soccer that night. If only that stupid ball had not flew over and landed in Jim’s property. If only in the first place his parents never bought this new landed property and build a house on it. It was all his parents fault.
He could hear whispering from behind him. He knew his friends were watching him. No one except him had the guts to face that bully. Jim had not moved. He had cleverly planted the ball behind him where Marcus could not reach but could still see it. Jim huffed sending the signal that he was not challenging Marcus to come get the ball. Marcus could not resist it. His heart was pounding like that off the tasmania on the lose. The rain got stronger and without a thought, Marcus moved
“Run Marcus, run, that mad dog is after you!”
Create a story with the word shit
It was seven in the morning and already my team and I were waiting restlessly for the arrival of the village chief. Today was an important day for my team as we were about to discuss our new project. After doing a needs analysis when we arrived in the village, my team of two and myself had decided to build a toilet for the community since they only had one functional toilet for the whole village. This was our second expedition and we were very certain we knew what we were going to do and how we were going to do it. As we ran over what we decided we wanted to tell the chief, he arrived . We got up to greet him and set down to begun our discussion
“ Chief, I assumed that Poppin had informed you what we intend to do”, I started
“Yes, yes , he said and I said good good!”
I smiled, this was going to be easy. “So I think it is okay if we told you what we are going to do”
The chief interrupted, “ I tell you first. We want big place. Big place enough for everyone to use. It can hold twelve people in one room”
Jim whispered into my ears, “You mean he wants twelve people in one cubicle?”
“No, no I think he wants us to build a toilet that has twelve cubicles”, I replied. Jim sighed
“Yes , yes and I suppose we can provide the necessary equipments like pails and buckets”
“Good! Must chain the buckets and pails to walls or not it would be stolen. Oh and please must have notice board” replied the chief
This time it was Ming Jin who nudged me. “If we were to chain up the buckets and pails to the wall, how are the people going to clean themselves? And did I hear him wrong, did he just say notice board? You mean they read announcements in the toilet?”
At that moment even I was confused. But I nudged Ming Jin back and asked him to quiet down.
“How about toilet paper instead?” I suggested
“No,no !!! Toliet paper big mess” he shook his head
“What? No toilet paper?” choked Jim. I had to grab his hand to calm him down. Jim had worked with such tribes before and the language barrier had nearly driven him to pull every inch of his hair out
“I am sorry but I don’t seem to understand what you are talking about”
The chief gave me that disappointing look as if I should have known better as I was a city folk. He sighed and continued.
“ Clarkie… I want place to be like home. My people must want to always come back there. It must be big and nice and they can play and study there”
The three of us were dumbfounded momentarily and as I slowly recover I asked the chief, “I am sorry chief but what are you talking about?”
“School right? You? “
“Shit “ replied Jim
It was a dark and stormy night, Marcus stood firmly rooted to the ground. His eyes staring straight at Jim. He did not dare blink. It was raining cats and dogs and Marcus was drenched wet and yet all he was focused on was Jim. Marcus knew he was a boy at the wrong place at the wrong time. But he had to do what he had to do, despite the danger he was putting himself in.
Jim had not moved an inch, he stood as firm as Marcus on the ground. Marcus knew that a slight movement would be the start of the next Iraq war. Marcus knew he should not have entered the doors of his arch enemy but circumstances had lead him to it. If only he and his friends had not decided to play soccer that night. If only that stupid ball had not flew over and landed in Jim’s property. If only in the first place his parents never bought this new landed property and build a house on it. It was all his parents fault.
He could hear whispering from behind him. He knew his friends were watching him. No one except him had the guts to face that bully. Jim had not moved. He had cleverly planted the ball behind him where Marcus could not reach but could still see it. Jim huffed sending the signal that he was not challenging Marcus to come get the ball. Marcus could not resist it. His heart was pounding like that off the tasmania on the lose. The rain got stronger and without a thought, Marcus moved
“Run Marcus, run, that mad dog is after you!”
Create a story with the word shit
It was seven in the morning and already my team and I were waiting restlessly for the arrival of the village chief. Today was an important day for my team as we were about to discuss our new project. After doing a needs analysis when we arrived in the village, my team of two and myself had decided to build a toilet for the community since they only had one functional toilet for the whole village. This was our second expedition and we were very certain we knew what we were going to do and how we were going to do it. As we ran over what we decided we wanted to tell the chief, he arrived . We got up to greet him and set down to begun our discussion
“ Chief, I assumed that Poppin had informed you what we intend to do”, I started
“Yes, yes , he said and I said good good!”
I smiled, this was going to be easy. “So I think it is okay if we told you what we are going to do”
The chief interrupted, “ I tell you first. We want big place. Big place enough for everyone to use. It can hold twelve people in one room”
Jim whispered into my ears, “You mean he wants twelve people in one cubicle?”
“No, no I think he wants us to build a toilet that has twelve cubicles”, I replied. Jim sighed
“Yes , yes and I suppose we can provide the necessary equipments like pails and buckets”
“Good! Must chain the buckets and pails to walls or not it would be stolen. Oh and please must have notice board” replied the chief
This time it was Ming Jin who nudged me. “If we were to chain up the buckets and pails to the wall, how are the people going to clean themselves? And did I hear him wrong, did he just say notice board? You mean they read announcements in the toilet?”
At that moment even I was confused. But I nudged Ming Jin back and asked him to quiet down.
“How about toilet paper instead?” I suggested
“No,no !!! Toliet paper big mess” he shook his head
“What? No toilet paper?” choked Jim. I had to grab his hand to calm him down. Jim had worked with such tribes before and the language barrier had nearly driven him to pull every inch of his hair out
“I am sorry but I don’t seem to understand what you are talking about”
The chief gave me that disappointing look as if I should have known better as I was a city folk. He sighed and continued.
“ Clarkie… I want place to be like home. My people must want to always come back there. It must be big and nice and they can play and study there”
The three of us were dumbfounded momentarily and as I slowly recover I asked the chief, “I am sorry chief but what are you talking about?”
“School right? You? “
“Shit “ replied Jim
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
"Their parents never taught them respect"
Yesterday I was helping my mother to teach her class while she was attending to some other matters. The class was as usual noisy but manageable. As i was busy engrossed marking some of their work, I did not notice the delivery man at the door.
"Who the hell is that at the door, cher?" inquired one of my students. I was shocked. Not with the sudden awareness that someone was at the door but at the student's question. He was very rude! I mean was this how he behave to others? I was furious and reprimanded him on the spot for his rude behaviour. I then went out to meet the delievery man. I apologised to him on behalf of my student's behaviour.
"Its okay, its not your fault that the boy's parents did not teach him to respect others" he replied
I smiled. He was right. The boy most probably does that at home and his parents never corrected him. The fault is not entirely his but also his parents. So I went back and told the student that his parents just got insulted thanks to him. I explained that if I were in that situation I would have said the same thing, perhaps more insulting. He was shocked. I warned him to becareful the next time he opens his mouth because the next time I won't scold him but will let his parents know what others think of them. Sheesh... kids these days!
"Who the hell is that at the door, cher?" inquired one of my students. I was shocked. Not with the sudden awareness that someone was at the door but at the student's question. He was very rude! I mean was this how he behave to others? I was furious and reprimanded him on the spot for his rude behaviour. I then went out to meet the delievery man. I apologised to him on behalf of my student's behaviour.
"Its okay, its not your fault that the boy's parents did not teach him to respect others" he replied
I smiled. He was right. The boy most probably does that at home and his parents never corrected him. The fault is not entirely his but also his parents. So I went back and told the student that his parents just got insulted thanks to him. I explained that if I were in that situation I would have said the same thing, perhaps more insulting. He was shocked. I warned him to becareful the next time he opens his mouth because the next time I won't scold him but will let his parents know what others think of them. Sheesh... kids these days!
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