vibha says

A dusty nickel or token of love.

2011-11-30T23:07:00.013+08:00

This short clip really set me thinking. The powerful message serves as a reminder to human beings on earth. This reverberating message is that we may have come alone into this world and will leave alone, but the people we meet along the way will mould our lives, both consciously and subconsciously. Many people may be too preoccupied with their daily routines and humdrum of life that they fail to notice the nuances around them - the tiny gestures that make a whirlpool of a difference. Garnering that realization within ourselves makes us appreciative of every tiny detail and every tiny gesture that may change someone's life forever. We may not realize it at the present moment, but we will realize in the near future that even a single dusty nickel or a lifeless pencil can serve as a turning point in someone's life. Occurrences around us may seem insignificant, but they can become steering wheels for change and improvement. It is through these selfless acts that we can be the oil for the gears in someone’s life and set things into motion. Every tiny act can make a gargantuan difference and can change one’s life forever. As humble servants of God, we should never underestimate the power of unconditional love and the fact that one person CAN indeed make a difference to the world, one human being at a time.

If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and then make that change – Michael Jackson

Two sides of the same, beautiful coin.

2011-08-27T20:36:00.017+08:00

He detests most fruits, while she loves them. She loves playing the guitar and singing while he used to bunk music classes. He dances in the shower, while she sings using the shower head as a microphone. Her dancing is abysmal while he takes joy in dancing. She can spend hours reading books, while he falls asleep one page into the novel. He loves swimming and she thrives on yoga. He can eat eggplants like there is no tomorrow, while she squirms at the sight of them. The list goes on.

Opposites attract, according to the 1988 hit by Paula Abdul. This belief has been bolstered by several studies and challenged by a few. A study conducted by the University of Iowa in 2005 claims that similarity in personality was found to more important that other traits such as attitude, religion and values and this forms an everlasting union of two souls. I beg to differ.

My personal take on this matter is that, yes, people who are opposites in their interests may fall for one another. But ultimately, those who are similar in their character and deep-set beliefs will fall for one another and then keep falling for one another for the rest of their lives. It becomes a bond that lasts for life. Once that base is strong, the interests, nuances in daily life as well as idiosyncrasies may be starkly different but they will complement one another in a couple and add that spice to the relationship. After all, two people who are exactly the same will be like bland soup without flavourings.

One may classify someone as having multiple levels of being, but for illustration purposes one may take it as a two-level model. The top level is the conscious level, which includes one’s personality, interests and attitude. These include favourite authors, hobbies and basically one’s idiosyncrasies. The second level is the core of a person, including deep-set beliefs, underlying principles, character and of course, the soul. Matching of the conscious level is not as crucial as the congruency of beliefs at that second level. Someone who is able to match one’s second level of being will be someone who will love you for the rest of your life. If the top level is slightly mismatched, it just adds to the flavour of the relationship.

Marriage is not just a union of two people, but a merging of two souls. It takes understanding from both parties and compromise on tiny aspects to create magic. This is not an overnight event, but one that unfolds over the course of one’s life. Ultimately, if one is able to open one’s heart to possibilities and wholeheartedly accept someone without conditions attached, one would be able to love another and accept the tiny nuances.

Once you find that someone, the heart knows - if you let it know. Partners are made in heaven and delivered to us in packages when we least expect them. Opening them wholeheartedly gives you joy like no other - love, in its purest form. That is, if you choose to have faith.

So yes, opposites can attract when two hearts beat with the same rhythm and two souls understand the depths of each other - it is nothing short of magic.

In the name of God

2011-06-27T21:18:00.012+08:00

The sands of time have witnessed the rise of countless numbers of religions worldwide – the rise of belief systems and faiths which guide our actions, conduct, morality and basically our spirituality. Religion can be anything ranging from the established faiths to unofficial religions such as sports or food. It is not uncommon for sportsmen or musicians to label their respective interest a religion. But whichever governing set of belief one has, they strengthen one and ideally make one a better person for oneself and for the world one lives in.

However much the birth of religion has instilled peace and harmony and enlightenment in mankind, religion has also been used as an excuse for committing heinous acts. In fact, the past has seen several ghastly atrocities committed in the name of religion. Often these atrocities are committed not by atheists or agnostics but by people who call themselves God’s servants.

One such example is the Aztec practice of human sacrifice in the 1300s, where about 20,000 people were massacred to appease Gods such as the Sun God, who required a daily “nourishment of blood”. The Roman persecution of Christians by the emperor Nero in 64 AD is another instance of this in history. Christians were rounded up and ordered to be torn apart by dogs or burned alive as human torches, before Christianity was legalised. In the 1950s, members of a sect in India known as the Thungee sect are believed to have strangled a whopping two million people to appease the bloodthirsty goddess Kali.

These are just a handful of the gargantuan numbers of instances in the murky past where heinous acts were conducted in the name of religion, to supposedly appease God. While one may argue that these culprits may have been misinformed or perhaps that the initial stages of establishment may have been shaky, the question arises as to why these atrocities still prevail in the world today. One would think that the development and modernization of the world would allow human beings to make much more educated and informed decisions – but not quite.

Islamic jihads or holy wars which are mandated by the Qur’an have led to the loss of millions of lives over 12 centuries. As Muslim armies spread their faith to India and Morocco, these sects branded other Muslims as infidels and declared jihads against them. The Kharijis battled Sunni rulers; the Azariqis declared death to all “sinners” and their families. Traditionally, jihads have been utilized for one of three purposes – to signify the struggle to maintain faith, to improve the Muslim society or to defend Islam. However, extremists use jihad-ism with an entirely new coat of meaning and interpretation. This extremism manifested itself in the form of the catastrophic September 11 attack, which shook not just North America but the entire world, as well as terrorism in the name of religion. Morphing the interpretation of religious scriptures to support such fallacies has led to the death of millions of innocent people and continues to do so.

Religious discrimination is also not an uncommon sight today, and sadly so. Some people feel that certain religious practices are superior to others and hence worthy of the upper echelons of society. Spreading one’s faith and urging others to convert is commonplace today. For example, the state of Orissa in India was the target of much religious discrimination in the past. Select tribes in Orissa labelled certain people as Panas or untouchables and these were mainly those who had adopted the Christian faith instead of Hinduism.

Evangelism or the communication of the Christian faith to new areas and cultures has also been a target for extremists. An apt example is the longstanding history of the persecution of Jews by Christians which began with the burning of synagogues in the fourth century and led to the numerous killings of Jews who refused to convert to Christianity. Extreme measures such as extermination camps of Jewish communities also transpired during World War II in countries such as Yugoslavia.

It is appalling how religion is used as a scapegoat for such heinous deeds. What is common in all the stated examples is extremism. Religious scriptures or books may have a certain set of teachings but these are often exaggerated or blown out of proportion. People use loop-holes to justify their fallacies and get away with acts like murder. Furthermore, picking and choosing of certain beliefs eventually leads to a self-fulfilling prophecy, where people choose to believe whatever justifies their own actions. They use a cocktail of beliefs specially tailored to them to go ahead with thinking that what they are doing indeed brings them closer to God, when I think it actually does the opposite.

I do not think any religion, be it the worshipping of a rock or an established religion, would permit the disrespect of a fellow human being or grant the right to tarnish their lives. I do not believe God would permit anyone to hurt another human being, who is also a creation of God, no matter what the reason might be. I do not feel that it is right to use religion as an excuse for any of these deeds because that is a downright insult to God. Last but not the least, I do not think humans should pretend to be God and mess with the lives of others.

Love all; live and let live – that is what religion teaches.

Dear Michael

2011-06-25T14:20:00.016+08:00

In my early years as a young child, I still remember vividly how I would grab a bottle of powder, sprinkle some on the floor, slip on a pair of socks and attempt the moonwalk. I tried at it for hours, relentlessly and I still cannot quite master it I would say. I grew up listening to him, on records, then VCRs, then VCDs and tapes and finally DVDs and MP3s. The point I am trying to make is that he has surpassed generations after generations of music and what he gave to the world is unlike any artiste till date. A child today may not know much about Adolph Hitler’s reign or the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. but would definitely know who Michael Jackson was. Alas, his famous moonwalk left generations after generations in a daze, attempting to master the art of moving like him.

It makes me tear talking about him in the past tense and even though two years have passed since his demise, the loss is fresh and reverberates within the capacity of this world. The world has lost not just a world-class artiste but a wonderful human being who leaves behind much to be emulated. The world yearns for more love for others, for selflessness and for unconditional care and concern and MJ was one of the few artistes who went beyond his career to reach out to others. It was not for personal aggrandizement, but for pure love; a rare sight in the world today.

I still remember the events of 25^th of June every so clearly, with the images flashing within my brain like a slideshow – an extremely melancholic one. I still cannot quite digest as to how fortunate I am to have been in the same city as him during his last moments on earth. So near, yet so far. The events had transpired as such:

I was having an early dinner with my friends at a Burger King outlet opposite of the UCLA campus, within stone’s throw from Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Centre. It was then one of my friends received an SMS from someone we knew regarding an incident with MJ and how he was in critical condition or had possible died. Being a huge fan of MJ, I dismissed it as a distasteful joke or a nasty attempt at humour and pushed away the thought. It was then that we heard helicopters and noticed media commotion in the distance through the window pane. My heart plummeted and so did whatever I was holding and we dashed out towards the melee gathered outside the medical centre. With my heart beating wildly in my ribcage and ignoring the media vans lined up alongside the road, I approached someone in the crowd and asked her what was going on. She replied as frantically that MJ had been brought into the hospital earlier in a critical state and could possibly be dead and were waiting for a press release on the outcome. Upon confirming the news, my friend (also an ardent fan) and I just stood there for a couple of minutes, gap-mouthed trying to understand the implications of the whole situation. It did not matter that there was chilly breeze that day and did not matter that the press kept pushing past us, the situation felt surreal. It did not register till much later, that this could indeed be true. As we stood with the hundreds of others, waiting for an announcement, we got interviewed by BBC radio as well. But more than anything what touched me were the hundreds of other fans gathered, grieving together and holding each others’ hands in deep prayer and with apprehensive looks splashed across. Some were crying, some were tense, others were hugging and some praying. It was surreal. But it happened. He was literally footsteps away in his final hours on earth; at a walking distance. I know that what transpires is hardly ever within our control, especially something like that, and so I thank God for the opportunity to have at least been this close to my treasured idol in his last moments on earth (for driving me to go for a summer exchange to UCLA).

Walking home heavy-heartedly back to our apartment in Westwood, Los Angeles, we realized that however grievous the situation was; that he was in a better place. A place without slander, false accusations and law suits and in a place where he was not judged wrongfully and given the due peace he has always deserved.

He was not just an artiste with the voice of an angel; he was a human being with a heart and a yearning to be understood by the world. But the tabloids did not leave him be even till his last breath. Today, I salute MJ for making the world a better place, through his music and the simplest humanitarian acts. He has provided aid to so many charities worldwide; a philanthropist who wanted to make a personal difference to the lives of many. I salute you for the music you passed to generations and generations beyond to appreciate and treasure. I salute you for the dedication towards loving everything around you unconditionally – from animals to nature to children and your peers. I salute you for being a wonderful human being.

If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and then make that, change ~ Michael Jackson.

We are the world
We are the children
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So let's start giving
There's a choice we're making
We're saving our own lives
It's true we'll make a better day
Just you and me

Love you Michael.

yogi-cally speaking.

2011-06-12T12:44:00.010+08:00

When one thinks of yoga, immediately images of people twisted in the shapes of pretzels and contorted like twisted long balloons at a circus pop to mind. Highly glamorized today, it has even been linked to hippie culture and the road to the achievement of Zen. But the sands of time have morphed the true meaning of yoga for a large number of people worldwide. The credit goes to movies and television shows which sensationalize this archaic art which dates back to more than 5000 years ago around the Indus Valley.

It is heartening, however, to note that there have been burgeoning numbers of good yogis and trained professionals around the globe. These are individuals who dedicate their lives to truly master this art and not promote it as an alternative for aerobics or gym training. True yoga is not merely about practising different positions or asanas but gaining a control over one’s self in terms of mind, body and soul. Bending one’s legs behind one’s head and propping the body up on one hand is not considered as yoga if one’s mind drifts to something else altogether or if one does not have peace of mind and a soulful connection with the body, for instance.

I went for my first proper yoga class last week and I say proper because the previous ~~aerobics~~ yoga class was far from comparable. The previous class stressed so much on asanas that it eventually felt like an aerobics or gymnastics class more than anything! Every second, the instructor ordered the class to change their position and I found myself in a tangled heap of legs and hands.

This class, however, was drastically different – and in a good way. It stressed on breathing, meditation and using asanas to guide that and achieve a connection between not just the body parts but the soul. Starting off as a beginner, I was initially apprehensive about my having to compete with A-type personalities who would jeer at you if you are unable to perform up to par. But to my relief, the class comprised of individuals who were all there for one purpose – to practice good yoga and to heal through yoga. I got assimilated into the serene environment in almost no time; with the calm voice of the yogi conducting the class and the gentle sound of nature from the CD-player in the corner of the room. Albeit small, the room had a comfort of its own and I grew less aware of my lack of flexibility and concentrated on my internal self.

The yogi is Chinese but has a Sanskrit name Shukla; and I deeply salute her dedication towards yoga. She has been practising for 7 years till date. She stressed on how yoga is not merely about asanas but about having a certain lifestyle and way of living and I immediately thought about my previous class which taught the absolute opposite and smiled to myself. I made a sound decision to trust my gut instinct and sign up for this class and hope that I can truly embrace this yoga lifestyle in its entirety. Though I probably would not be able to twist myself into a pretzel anytime soon!

Tie a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree.

2011-05-22T13:24:00.002+08:00

We live not in a static world, but one that fluctuates in tandem with time. One which evolves, with huts being bulldozed away to make way for skyscrapers, where older politicians get replaced by new ones adorning sparkly shoes and well-tailored coats, where generations get replaced by new generations. We live in a world that is constantly changing inevitably and surely with each tick of the second hand on the face of a clock.

With physical changes, it is almost necessary to change mindsets and reservations we may have and to adapt to the novel environment around us. Take for example Facebook, the social network that was brought social interaction to the next level. While the younger generation may breathe, eat and sleep Facebook, the older generations may feel phased out and even obsolete, that is if they decide to remain static. Keeping an open mind, however allows them to embrace this new culture albeit with a pinch of salt and stay relevant to the youths of today, perhaps to even understand their own children better. This may apply to an assortment of things – from technology to brands to even the pop icons of today!

Changing our mindset with time and constantly bettering ourselves is not just crucial to stay relevant but also in terms of how we accept the world around us. We can either fight change or swallow the bitter pill and honestly speaking, the latter is much less catastrophic. As human beings we do not have the capacity to fight change, to deny it or even insist that certain things are supposed to be sacrosanct. Nothing is sacrosanct. So we adjust ourselves to the novel situations and go with the flow, without wishing the past would reprise.

Changes aside, human beings are ever so comparable to a tree. We start off, with our foundations (the roots) before we branch out and reach the rest of the world through our actions and words (the shoots) and benefit the world in any way we can (through fruits and flowers) and eventually we give rise to new generations to take over our place (through seeds). I think before the entire process of life unfolds before us and before we are subjected to this ever-changing world, the foundations are extremely important. These comprise our values, our morals and our utmost connection with God. If these are compromised in any way, whether one has shoots or flowers or fruits does not matter at the end of the day. The most important issue is whether the base is stable, because if it is not, a gust of wind may topple the entire tree over, regardless of how much it has given to the world. The ultimate goal is ultimately to reach a stage where we are deeply rooted (pun intended) in our belief systems for ourselves before we branch out to reach others and before we branch out into the evolving world. But of course, while maintaining a feedback system to continually renew and better oneself and replace old roots as well those getting ebbed away by termites. One should always embrace change but stay grounded in (good) values at the end of the day and make sure the oak grows deep into the ground before it gives back to the world and embraces changes over years and years to come!

Memoirs of a lab rat.

2011-04-07T18:16:00.001+08:00

As honours year draws to an end, a mixture of emotions well up within me. This has by far been one of the most trying years of my University life – physically and mentally. Whatever it may be, subsequently tiding over the bad moments allows one to come out more polished and undeniably stronger. After all, even a piece of coal requires years of pressure and harsh conditions to emerge in the form of a diamond – nature says it all.

Being my first research experience proper, I was initially highly apprehensive about what to expect from a research lab. Being the bottommost rung of the ladder (below the phD and masters students), it was harsh, often painful. As with every organisational structure, the bottommost rung inevitably gets stepped on and treated unjustly. It was then I realised that lab dynamics were far from an easy game. In lab you need to prove yourself in terms of your capabilities, your passion and your drive. Many a times, the harsh treatment chipped at me (because I wear my heart on my sleeve), but I never held grudges. If I had, I would not be standing here today, appreciative of every single person in lab. In one way or another, each of these people has played a role in making a difference to my life – be it via hurtful remarks or kind words. And each of these people was sent by God for some purpose.

It was all worthwhile at the end of the day – skipping meals, the late nights at lab alone, the minor accidents (I am thankful I have not grown an extra toe yet), the eye strain, the backaches, the harsh comments; the list goes on. But I am also deeply appreciative of the people I came to know and the quirky incidents every now and then which made my day. As a whole package, this has been one rollercoaster ride of emotions which remain forever etched in my brain.

Thorns among the roses

2011-02-02T22:22:00.002+08:00

Valentine’s day is around the corner and soon enough the streets will be bustling with bouquets of lilies, roses and all sorts of blooms. Romantics at heart will declare their love and commitment for their significant others and the famous winged cupid will shoot arrows in all directions, in hope of finding a target. Men will kneel in front of those they wish to spend the rest of their lives with, holding a box with a gem like none other. Flower shops and chocolate confectionaries will welcome the hordes of orders (and the greens) with open arms and the atmosphere will flourish with the sweet smell of love. This is undoubtedly, the ideal situation.

Love is a subjective matter indeed. What may be of absolute importance to one in a significant other may be entirely different from the expectations of another. The feeling of love may be consistent across the globe, but the means of expressing it may be tweaked. Some experience it without saying a word, while others need dramatic entrances and bouquets of flowers. Some hold another’s hand without a question of doubt in their eyes, while others need explanations and open gestures. The meaning, however, remains the same and tugs at the same heart strings, making the heart beat to another’s name. Yes, you may label me a hopeless romantic. But I think loving someone should be void of anything that can taint it – expectations, distrust, disloyalty and the likes. Even if one party does not express it extravagantly, it strums your heart’s strings to a melodious tune.

Over here, I do not speak of merely love between a man and a woman, or significant others. I speak of love in all forms – love for people you do not know, love for relatives, love for friends and most of all love for God. There are several times when unconditional love becomes extremely difficult as situations in life get you entangled in a series of thoughts. But letting go of these and accepting another in spite of their imperfections can truly allow one to unconditionally love another. After all, even a rose has thorns. Nature speaks for itself.

So embrace your neighbour, embrace your friends, embrace your loved ones and embrace yourself. Because if you do not love yourself to begin with; it becomes difficult for people to love you. And most importantly, embrace love, in its purest form, untainted by jealousy, greed and other emotions which raise doubt. Extend your arms and embrace that rose in its entirety - thorns or not.

una canción preciosa

2011-01-23T23:58:00.009+08:00

Only Hope, From A Walk to Remember - one of the most beautiful songs ever written and one of the most beautiful movies ever made.

There's a song that's inside of my soul.

It's the one that I've tried to write over and over again
I'm awake in the infinite cold.
But you sing to me over and over and over again.

So, I lay my head back down.
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours, I pray, to be only yours
I know now you're my only hope.

Sing to me the song of the stars.
Of your galaxy dancing and laughing and laughing again.
When it feels like my dreams are so far
Sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again.

So I lay my head back down.
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours, I pray, to be only yours
I know now, you're my only hope.

I give you my destiny.
I'm giving you all of me.
I want your symphony, singing in all that I am
At the top of my lungs, I'm giving it back.

So I lay my head back down.
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours, I pray, to be only yours
I pray, to be only yours
I know now you're my only hope.

Unconditional love is difficult to achieve, but never impossible. One that does not have strings attached, one that is void of expectations. One that is built on strong faith that radiates from within and gives, without asking for anything back in return. Something which makes us truly happy not just on the outside but from within. And so I lift my hands and pray.

someone changed the sign boards.

2011-01-15T23:18:00.005+08:00

This is absurd and completely flabbergasting. Change is inevitable - it is part and parcel of our daily life, but this change that has taken the world by storm and left millions in an identity crisis. A 13th zodiac sign has left people in a whirlpool of confusion. Those who strongly believe in astrology probably have to chuck aside books and artefacts belonging to the zodiac sign they once held to as a component of their identities. What we seemed to believe over the years has to be scraped and thrown into the garbage chute. That is, if we choose to believe what astrologer Marcie McCaffery is uttering.

Zodiac signs represent constellations that cross the sun's ecliptic or path over the span of a year. In total there were 12 of these, but recent discoveries point towards an additional constellation - Orphiucus. Little is known about this newly introduced zodiac sign but it is located to the east of Scorpius and to the west of Sagittarius. It is said to be represented by a man grasping a serpent, dividing it into two parts and is the only sign linked to a real man. The new breakdown as reported is shown below.

Capricorn: Jan. 20 - Feb. 16

Aquarius: Feb. 16 - March 11
Pisces: March 11 - April 18
Aries: April 18 - May 13
Taurus: May 13 - June 21
Gemini: June 21 - July 20
Cancer: July 20 - Aug. 10
Leo: Aug. 10 - Sept. 16
Virgo: Sept. 16 - Oct. 30
Libra: Oct. 30 - Nov. 23
Scorpio: Nov. 23 - 29.
Ophiuchus: Nov. 29 - Dec. 17
Sagittarius: Dec. 17 - Jan. 20

Now the decision lies with us, whether we would like to believe in this tale being churned out. Whether this is fact or fiction remains to be decided. But millions have been confounded by this shocking new revelation. Only time will tell whether people will embrace this and whether this turns the tables or changes anything is another matter. Does this change the person we are and do these signs actually depict our personality traits? This is a highly subjective matter and I for one do not feel that these demonstrate how we think, respond, interact and behave as individuals. It should not. The question at hand is how invested are we in our zodiac signs at the end of the day and whether this comes across as fact or fiction. I refuse to budge from being a sagittarian. I cannot be a Scorpion - am far from one. Meanwhile, denial it is.

chapter 1: A new beginning, or maybe not.

2010-12-31T13:43:00.006+08:00

The boat started to sink, ever so steadily. She knew how to swim and yet she couldn’t; her arms and legs were frozen. She tried to call for help, but nothing but a whisper escaped her mouth. It sank with her into the dark waters. She saw figures floating around. Figures of people she thought she knew. She could not breathe; she held her breath until she could no longer do so. She could not hold on much longer, she felt her lungs compressing. Her screams reverberated in her head, growing louder and louder and louder still.

With a jolt she woke up on her queen-sized bed, gasping for air with her forehead damp with perspiration. She swiped at her forehead wiping it and sat upright for some time, calming herself down from the horrific episode. She had been having these disturbing images while in deep sleep a couple of times now, often waking up, panting. It was especially bad after she lost Nathan, her husband of 6 years, a couple of months ago. It seems as though the mental wounds and psychological wounds never managed to fully heal, together with her aching heart. Pouring herself a glass of water from the bottle by the bedroom lamp, she steadied herself and reminded herself it was not real; it was a mere figment of her imagination, as she guzzled the cooling liquid.

Her alarm rang and she hit the top button. It was 7am. Her biological clock had gotten so accustomed to the time that she barely needed to rely on her alarm clock; she would wake up a minute or two beforehand. But she set it anyway, for precautionary measure. She placed the glass down and swung her legs off the bed to get up. Walking to the full length mirror she ran her fingers through her short, springy auburn curls. At thirty one, Catalina Rose Valdez had not aged one second. She could still pass off as a woman in her early twenties. She barely wore make up, save for occasion powder and blush. Alas, she did not need to, because her natural beauty spoke for itself. Her well-chiselled nose, almond-shaped hazel eyes and auburn curls were sufficient to make heads turn as she walked the streets.

Catalina grew up under the guidance of her grandmother, who she loved dearly, never knowing who her biological parents were. They had left her at her grandmother’s doorstep and Catalina never bothered to trace them down because her grandmother never made her feel as though she was alone in the world. Her grandmother claimed that the moment she laid her eyes on her, her heart sank at the act at her parents had performed, but she wholeheartedly accepted the bundle of joy. The moment she stared into her hazel eyes, she got reminded of an angel, and hence named her Catalina, which was Spanish for Aikaterine, the greek term for ‘pure’. Catalina called her grandmother abuelita , an affectionate term for grandmother, in Spanish.

Having spent her childhood and teenage years in Salamanca, a city in Western Spain, she was fluent in her mother tongue, or what she would rather call, grandmother tongue, Spanish but her English was never compromised. She studied in a catholic school and grew up with a passion for history, mythology and ancient civilisations. After all, Salamanca was so rich in culture and heritage that it was declared by UNESCO as a world heritage site in 1988. She loved the way things developed and evolved and civilisations grew and got erased from the surface of the earth. When Catalina passed her eighteenth, her grandmother passed on from old age, leaving her what hard-earned money she had from selling self-woven hats. Her grandmother was a breast cancer survivor and gave others with that incurable disease the faith to live. She was a strong woman. Catalina was deeply shattered by the loss of her confidante, her guidance and her pillar of support and was left with no choice but to travel to the states to live with her distant aunt, who she did not even know how she was related to.

In the present day, Catalina freshened up and walked to her kitchen to make herself some breakfast. She felt as though she was shedding weight by the kilos and needed some carbohydrate. Switching on the coffee machine, she scooped in a few spoonfuls of her favourite Arabica coffee beans and dropped two toasts into the toaster and went back to reminiscing. Her so-called aunt Muriel had accepted her into her abode in Los Angeles, near Westwood village, albeit unwillingly. She could sense it from her sourness-laden voice and the way her lips would scrunch up into a frown every time Catalina walked in. Catalina merely shrugged it off, though she felt the pang in her heart every time she thought of her late albuelita. It was then that Catalina decided to study what she was passionate about, history, with a second major in mythology at the University of Los Angeles, California (UCLA). She knew her albuelita would be proud, watching over her from the heavens. The college was a stone’s throw away from Aunt Muriel’s house.

Spreading marmalade on her toast she threw a glance over at the easel next to the couch. Resting on it was a canvas block with a portrait of her late husband Nathan Smith painted onto it using Acrylic paint. She loved painting as it helped her go into pensive and put things into perspective. She dreadfully missed Nathan and she remembered his face all too clearly. His dimpled smile, his wavy dark brown hair, his well-chiselled jaw line and his twinkling eyes which lit up when he spoke of what he loved. She smiled wistfully as she recollected the day she met Nathan at UCLA. He was three years her senior and was majoring in forensic science and did a minor in mythology. They met at mythology lectures, sharing a common interest. They would study together at the Powell library on campus and have long chats in the cafeteria with scoopfuls of Baskin-Robins and occasionally do crosswords together. Chocolate chip cookie dough was their favourite. As the quarterback of the university American football team, he was popular, yet down to earth and had his eyes set on no one but Catalina.

After graduating, Nathan joined the Los Angeles Police Department, to become an LAPD officer. He had always wanted to serve the society, wanted to replace the bad with good, wanted to instill peace in the neighbourhood. A humanitarian, he always served when he could, be it at charity organisations or fundraisers. As an LAPD officer, he stuck firmly to his duty and was always ready to serve. He wore his badge with pride and Catalina wore him as a badge with pride. When Catalina was in her final year, Nathan proposed to her in his uniform in the middle of a luscious field on campus. He knelt down on a knee and pulled out a velvety red box which drew Catalina’s breath away and when she saw the ring she nodded without him having to utter a single word. They got engaged then and married the next day at a small catholic church. Catalina used to tease him, saying that his surname, Smith, did not go well with her first and middle names and Nathan used to reply cheekily that if that was the case, he would change it the next day to what she deemed fit.

After they tied the knot, Catalina shifted out of Aunt Muriel’s house, kissed her goodbye on the cheeks, hugged her one last time and thanked her for everything before moving into Nathan’s house. They built a home together and he urged her to follow her dreams. Upon graduating she decided to contribute back to her alma mater and teach what she loved. He believed in her and that made her believe in her capabilities. He used to joke that she would make a fabulous female president if she wanted to. Now he was gone, she thought to herself as tears filled her eyes. She wiped away her tears as they trickled down her cheek and ate what she could of her breakfast. She poured her coffee into a thermos flask and collected the notes which she burnt the midnight oil drafting. World history: a spotlight on Europe. She gathered her papers and carefully inserted them into her briefcase, which usually rested at a permanent spot on her couch. Throwing on a shirt and a pleated skirt, she took one final glance at her reflection and tried to muster a smile and she ran her fingers through her curls. She could do this - her first lecture for the semester. Although she was one of the youngest teaching staffs, she was well-revered by her colleagues and students.

Collecting her briefcase and thermos and swinging her handbag over her right shoulder she took one final glance around her apartment and left her flat, locking behind herself. She heard the joyful bark of her neighbour’s dog Powter as it pawed at her skirt until she delivered a pat to his head. The fox terrier was being taken for a morning walk by the neighbour living across her, Maurice, the sweetest sixty year old lady she ever knew. She knew she could never replace her albuelita but she deeply respected her and since she had been widowed at a young age, they could empathize with one another. She had only Powter and Catalina in her life and she loved Catalina like a daughter she never had. She smiled broadly as she saw Catalina and asked her to come over for some sponge cake and Himalayan tea, her speciality, in the afternoon. Catalina nodded and smiled back as she bade goodbye. ‘Hasta pronto see you soon’, she uttered.

The class was larger than she had expected, but the moment she entered and saw eager faces smiling back at her, she felt herself ease and introduced herself as Catalina Rose Smith. And so it begins, she thought to herself, as she smiled both internally and externally.

In a distant part of downtown Los Angeles they slapped him hard across his face. He was gagged and tied to a structure and looked like he had aged by decades. The light above his head swung precariously. He sat defeated and without an ounce of energy within him to struggle any longer. The figures in front of him snorted and spat distastefully on his face. He thought this was one of his better treatments he had gotten. In the pale light, red slashes of blood and gashes could be seen across his face, arms and body, some fresh, some dried. They ungagged him momentarily to force water down his throat and when they untied the cloth, he begged, ‘please, let me go. My wife needs me. He’s free now, what do you need. I’ll give you what you need. You already killed my son. Please let me go. Please.’ It hurt for him to talk, it hurt for him to move but nothing hurted like the pain inside of him. One of the figures laughed as he barked back ‘she thinks you’re dead. She thinks you’re gone. It’s over.’ He glanced over at the other figure as they laughed silently and gagged him back.

something i penned with a bout of inspiration (a prologue)

2010-12-25T23:31:00.007+08:00

It was black, it always was. She could not do without a mug of black coffee from freshly ground Arabica coffee beans. Looking around, she heaved a sigh of relief as she sipped the lukewarm beverage. It had been some time since she could sit and breathe evenly. She reached into her pocket and drew out a photograph of her son and thumbing the photograph she reminisced about the moments she still had him in his life. It had been five years since she had lost James and the memories of that day haunted her. She could never wash those memories out and she will never forget his last few words. First she had lost her son James and then her husband Nathan, who she had tied the knot with 6 years ago. Her world had crumbled into pieces and it took some time for her to gather herself and re-build that faith to live. She had to keep fighting, for them, for justice.

It was then she noticed the back of a leather jacket with that logo she would never forget on a man at the counter. She immediately covered her auburn hair with the hood of her jacket and sipped the last few drops of her coffee. Paying the nervous waitress nearby, she hurriedly gathered her purse and belongings and slid off the chair to leave, without waiting for her change. She had to make sure she was not noticed as she walked out of the cafe, she could not afford to be recognised.

The skies had turned dark and a slight drizzle dampened the sidewalks, making them glisten as the pale moonlight reflected off them. She took quick, quiet footsteps and walked as fast as she could. As she half-turned, she noticed a figure walk out of the cafe. Not being able to make out his face and not daring to stare too long, she quickened her footsteps and tightened her fist in her pockets. The chilly November wind made her shiver through her cardigan but nothing caused more pain than the chill in her heart which was trampled to pieces. She could hear his footsteps now, quickening ever so gradually and her heart began to pound loud enough for her to hear in her own ears. She must not panic; she had to find justice for her son and her beloved husband. Her brisk walk turned into a slow jog and eventually a dash towards a familiar neighbourhood. Finally when she could not hear his footsteps anymore, she turned to check and sure enough, she was alone. Turning back towards her flat and upon reaching home, she locked the door and fell onto the couch to let her heart settle from what she thought could have been the last day of her life. And what could have possibly been the last mug of black coffee that ever entered her body.

She turned towards a photograph of James, Nathan and herself at the Grand Canyon when they were still one happy family, untainted by the horrors of what came after. Tears streamed down her cheek as she whispered that she will fight for justice; that she will fight for them till her very last breath. She promised.

stairway to heaven? maybe not.

2010-12-18T13:48:00.004+08:00

Superiority and inferiority. Class. castes. Race. Religion. Colour. All these can section society into different categories and are the seeds which could plant marginalisation and discrimination.

Colour has sparked huge riots in the past, especially in the USA. The black-white divide has been one of the most widely debated issue over the years. It was so intense that people could no longer separate humane from inhumane, as long as colours were involved. It was only with time and development of a certain sense of tolerance and maturity that this issue became partly resolved. I say partly because inevitably there will still be some people who think they are superior because of the colour of their skin. People dared not speak up and those who did suffered the consequences when they were hushed either via assassination as in the case of Martin Luther King Jr. (who shared his "I have a dream" speech) or simply forced to seal their lips. But does colour mark the superiority status of Mankind? If so, who said so? These gross misconceptions are partly the reason why marginalisation and discrimination developed. This reminds me of a novel which really touched my heart and shone light on the divide based on colour - Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred D. Taylor and some of her other books such as Let the Circle be Unbroken. This particular book is one of my favourites and an utterly thought-provoking one at that.

Another major divide which can be noticed in mostly developing countries would be the rich-poor divide. This divide was evident on the streets of Cambodia, when I went over last December. It would be a common sight to come across an elaborately decorated mansion sandwiched between two huts for instance on the streets of Cambodia or aluminium-lined rooftops and barely sheltered homes in front of condominium flats in India. However, we should never treat a fellow human being in a certain manner based on how much cash they horde. This would be unjust as we came to this planet with nothing and we are leaving without anything and what matters the most is who we are as a person.

The past as seen several other cases of such discrimination; one of which is the caste system of India. This was a system which divided the general populace in different sections of superiority based on their occupation. I.e. merchants would be ranked lower than warriors and kings and these would be ranked lower than priests. While much of this structure has been abolished, snippets of these can still be seen in society. Labelling people as 'pariahs' or untouchables is not uncommon in India for example. This is the sad truth; people labelling themselves as worthy of the upper echelons of society and looking down on those 'below' them.

This brings me to my thoughts of how there are inevitably superiority issues whether in the workplace or any other organisation. Divisions are bound to be established be it for training purposes or management. I would call it climbing the rungs of a ladder. When you start off, you are like the bottom rung, stepped on by almost everyone, especially so that they can move farther at your expense. Slowly but surely when one rises in ranking and moves to the next rung and beyond, they are less stepped on and when at the topmost rung, people only reach out to you and barely step onto you. Such are office politics, university politics and so forth and such is life. But no matter which rung you are, no matter which stage in life you are at, never forget that at the end of the day we are all human beings who came with nothing and leave with nothing and it is what we have done rather than what we have that truly matters.

2010-12-15T23:42:00.002+08:00

Walking through crossroads with thousands of others, I take a moment to stop and glance around myself and I realize no one has stopped and the world continues as per normal.

hogging the roads since 2007.

2010-12-12T00:16:00.002+08:00

12th of December 2007 - the day I passed my driving test and attained my license. Today marks the 3rd anniversary of that day. Time undoubtedly and inevitably flies!

It seems like yesterday that I first sat behind the wheel and shuddered nervously when I was asked to drive at merely 40km/h. I remember climbing into the car next to my test instructor and taking a deep breath before starting. That was the first time I had driven without music from the alpine system in the car. I tried to remember the route I was given, but it came to me as nothing but a number. I kicked off my sandals (yes I drive barefooted) and checked my settings before starting off. Unlike my previous test instructor, this one looked remotely friendly so I gave a nervous sideway smile and set off. I focused and survived and he told me I was a smooth driver, which made me smile internally (and would have manifested as an ear-to-ear smile if I had let it). Upon reaching the centre, he refused to tell me if I had earned the right to travel the roads on a four-wheeler controlled by me. I trudged up the stairs behind him and sat down across from him at a table. It was there he handed me my score sheet and I had passed! I might have squealed there and then.

When I freshly passed, everything had to be by the book but now it seems estimation and gut has taken over. It ultimately becomes a task akin to swimming or cycling, where your body automatically takes over as though it is pre-set.

This maturation process applies to a multitude of things in life. Be it a caterpillar taking a temporary hiatus or morphing period in a cocoon only to emerge a butterfly or a baby graduating from sucking his or her thumb to lecturing in a university. Changes are all around us. But with changes comes the baggage of memories of the past. Some sweet, some painful, some happy and some sad and these inevitably become part of us. Whether we use these to our advantage and prevent history from repeating itself or we let ourselves sink into these and allow those emotions to erupt yet once again is entirely up to us. But no matter what we do with these memories, they get planted into our brains till anatomically erased by old age. They are part of us, and will remain part of us; especially if they mean a great deal to you.

In any case, I miss driving a manual car!

sat down with inspiration and a pen.

2010-12-11T14:57:00.008+08:00

The gust of wind

The words of life just pass me by

I wonder if I should laugh or cry

I hold out my hand with apprehension

But your words seem to escape my comprehension

Where did I err, I ask myself

As I look at pictures of us upon the shelf

Tears stream down my cheek

As I recall our memories that summer at the creek

We were happy; things were perfect

My heart was whole and fully intact

Somehow this gust of wind took with it our dreams

It was not that perfect after all, it seems

I tried to bring a smile upon your face

Thoughts of you, in my heart I would place

But you slammed the door into my soul

So now with these memories left, I will grow old

By Vibha

A quarter of the pie.

2010-12-06T00:48:00.004+08:00

22 years and approximately 11 days have passed since I completed 22 years on this planet. If one considers the life expectancy of an average healthy Singaporean (~80.7 years), that would mean I have completed one quarter of my life. As I stare at the 3/4 of pie left in front of me (where pie = my life), I cannot help but wonder how the rest will taste like. Sure enough there will be a myriad of tastes (sweet, salty, sour or bitter) based on my experiences hence forth and this pie of life definitely has an unpredictable set of fillings which would provoke different feelings within me.

I have reached a stage where a multitude of decisions have to be made. Decisions which seem to be battling out within me, stretching me in different directions. I guess I have to shut off these external noises and truly find that inner voice somewhere within me. And so I close my eyes and meditate and hope that I find those answers. And meanwhile, stick with my gut feel. Because the gut never lies. And perhaps try not to practise romanticism (i.e. mixing reasons with emotions and leading to a perpetual battle between both), which would certainly be a difficult task for me especially since my heart is soft like a marshmellow.

On another note, I truly value the people I have in my life. Some may have entered my life earlier and some later, but all of these people hold a special compartment within the four chambers of my heart. I love all of you dearly; you know who you are :) Cheers!

soccer for dummies, my style.

2010-11-13T12:27:00.002+08:00

This is a recycled post from my old blog :)

First, grab a spherical object. Cylinders, cuboids and pyramids are out of the question, but worth a try. Next, find something to kick it into. Well, the wider the structure of the 'goalpost' is, the easier the game due to several obvious reasons. For a greater challenge, get a narrower region to kick the spherical object into. Here's the trick, someone from the opposing team has to place his body in grave danger by guarding this 'goalpost' with solely his body. Hence make sure the spherical object has no sharp or jaggered edges to ensure that the human being does not have to taken away on a stretcher.

So far so good? Now, the tricky bit is the movement of this circular object. Hands are out of the question, so if you'd like to look stylish while playing soccer, tuck your hands in your pockets. It is the emerging style. Feet can be used, don't worry. Well, if you're not too worried about brain damage, use the back of your head or your forehead. For those without heart problems, use your chest by all means. Otherwise, feet work fine. Next step - how many men are required to chase this spherical object and pass it around before shooting it into the 'goalpost'? 11 in total, per team. Oh keep some players on standby. Accidents happen more often than not.

Oh yes, referees are a necessity. They like to keep two coloured cards in their pockets. Red and yellow. (No, they're not all Spanish) They wave the red card if they would rather you get off the field while yellow serves as a warning. Watch your tongue because vulgarities can get you a yellow card or even a red card. Oh and if you like doing chokeslams or headbutts on people, you'll be better off in a wrestling ring.

Soccer politics. Something that churns out millions in terms of the press. So if you're not in for some sweaty action, pick up that typewriter and churn out a story on soccer politics and sell it to tabloids. Likely to get you hordes of cash, if you're really professional.

Scoring. Some people like to kick the spherical object in various arrangements around the field for a bulk of the time and then score a goal whereas others prefer kicking the spherical objects into the crowd. There are some, of course, who rather get to the point and score from one end of the field to the other. Of course, that is only possible if all the players are asleep on the field apart from the one delivering the shot.

So, as you can see, soccer is not all that complicated after all. Go and grab your spherical object and a couple of people today!

molds of plasticine or bricks of clay?

2010-11-08T22:47:00.000+08:00

Conformity to the norm or daring to be different. Human beings tend to take different stances, but ultimately they funnel into conformity at some juncture or point in time. How different can we be and how often do we let ourselves stick out like a sore thumb?

This raises the issue of our locus of identity and whether it is external or internal. The former are comparable to molds of plasticine whereas the latter are comparable to hardened pieces of clay. It is difficult to classify humans into either of these two categories and most possess a little bit of that plasticine and a little bit of that clay, just that how much of each vary. Plasticines let themselves be molded and adjusted by the fingers of society whereas clay pieces have set their own standards of living and values, which are immune to external perspectives.

Why exactly do people conform? Why would someone not dare walk out of their house in their PJs? Why would people not dare break out into a musical on a train? Why are there unspoken norms of behaviour and conduct and who exactly created these? It is quite interesting to think about the roots of origin of such practices and how these differ across the globe. In Japan people would look at you aghast if you were to set your mobile on ringing mode, while in America you see people talking at the top of their voices. True enough, we can connect or link these to culture and traditions, but it does not address the issue of people having to be similar or at least not too different from one another. This is an entirely different issue on its own. Is it a need for identity or a fear of being judged? It could be either or perhaps just an easy way out. After all, it takes less energy to do exactly what your neighbour practises instead of having to decide what to do. We begin to doubt our own actions and try and match those of the norm. Also, people may fear being left out or ostracized for being different. But that makes them become someone they are instructed to develop into rather than someone they want to be.

Not convinced? Several psychologists have tested on subjects in the past and proven just what I am rambling about - the need to conform. One of the earliest of these studies is that done by Solomon Asch in the 1950s. Check this out:

Even though the need for acceptance haunts our minds, I think in order to be truly happy we need to take our lives by its reins and take critiques with a pinch of salt. Dare to be different and have that clay within us while maintaining some plasticine as well. Only a healthy balance of these two will make us truly us and unique. It is perfectly fine to stick out like a sore thumb once in awhile and create a whole new direction and perhaps a whole new norm, the irony of it all.

an apple a day keeps the doctor away?

2010-09-07T23:21:00.000+08:00

The time has come where apples and blackberries are no longer seen as fruits, but spark thoughts of technological brands. An i-age is what I would define today as. And yes, I am referring to iphones and ipads and iproducts. Not just that, today our opposable thumbs seem to be indispensible in performing our daily tasks (not hard manual labour, but SMS-ing). It's 2010, and the days of snail mail and messenger pigeons are long gone. It is amazing how even siblings living under the same roof can facebook wall each other while seated in their own rooms. Or take the example of handphones and how they have become some sort of appendages on us, without which one begins to feel handicapped and agonized.

Are we truly moving into a society that is non-functional without these gadgets? Are we moving into a materialistic world defined by products and brands? These questions are worth raising and contemplating on. Somehow products have begun to embody our own aspirations and even bits and pieces of ourselves. But is this healthy? Probably not.

Even though, I may have fallen prey to consumerism in several instances, I believe it is of extreme importance to not lose ourselves in the process. A bag, for instance, should be to hold your items and make transportation of objects easier and not something that personifies you. Personification of oneself via objects leads to an unhealthy obssession and drive to attain more objects to express oneself. I recently heard from a friend about a mother who purchases branded goods for her child, just so she can drive them to work hard to attain such brands. But is what we want for the future generation? Children talking in the language of Gucci and Prada and aiming to get that latest design burberry coat rather than personal development?

On the whole, we as individuals need to draw that line between over-indulgence in materialistic possessions and remind ourselves to keep close what truly matters - friends and family and personal development. After all, that latest Gucci handbag may develop holes after a period of time, but our values and morales remain.

the toast always falls with its buttered side facing down.

2010-08-23T22:13:00.003+08:00

Murphey's law - one of the merciless laws of nature which strike suddenly and so forcefully that it throws you off balance. And more often not, when you least expect it. For those who are unaware of what this law is exactly, the trusty (and sometimes not so trusty) wikipedia may help you out:

Murphy's law is an adage or epigram that is typically stated as: "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong"-wikipedia

Take for instance this scenerio. You walk out of your house feeling good about things, with a smile on your face, wearing a new dress/sandals and the sort. You feel a light drizzle and do not let it dampen your spirits (pun intended) and walk on. Then it gets heavier so you take out your umbrella, only to discover that there is a leak right above your head. Yet you go on thinking at least the rest of me is sheltered and the next thing you know, your umbrella gets blown inside out by a gust of wind. And as you walk along with a slight frown on your face, you get splashed with murky roadside water by an oncoming vehicle as you're walking along the pedestrian walk. AND you miss the bus and you sit at the bus stop, shivering in the cold. And yes, this unfortunate soul was yours truly, albeit quite a few years back.

In any case, somehow this law has its way in our everyday life. But it is how we approach these situations that makes the difference. And the best way is to laugh at yourself once in a while, especially when murphey's law seems to magnify itself. After that, you shrug and move on and hope that the next day would be a better day. Laughter seems to lighten that load by folds!

On another note, balancing both my final year project (or honours project) and modules is getting to be quite a challenge. It almost feels like I am balancing on a tightrope with no circus training and holding a rod with weights hung at both sides. But no matter what, I shall not look at the valley below me. I just hope the tightrope does not break!

Cheers!

getting the ball rolling.

2010-06-12T16:50:00.003+08:00

World cup 2010 season just kicked off as Mexico and South Africa headed towards each other within the demarcated field of play (puns intended). By now it should be clear as to what the title of the post was inspired by. In any case, I am rooting for Spain (for obvious reasons) and Honduras (for not so obvious reasons). We shall see how this season goes!

In any case, getting the ball rolling in not so literal terms can prove to be a pretty daunting task at hand. Getting the gears into motion for example needs oiling, tweaking and many other strenuous tasks. Overcoming this initial barrier may be equivalent of a hike up Mount Everest or braving a storm in the midst of the Indian Ocean. Some may give up, some persevere and wear themselves out but only a select few make it to the peak and then move on with ease. I am faced with a similar problem or obstacle as to whether I should pursue this or I should head in another direction with hopes of greener pastures. But the ultimate question is whether such greener pastures really exist or are this a figment of our hopeful imagination. Is the grass equally brown at the other side? Nobody knows until they go over to find out and by then it may be too late to return. What a big headache-causing dilemma this is! Maybe I should just roll a dice. Maybe I should consult a gypsy with crystal ball. But for now, I wait and watch and let myself try to reach that peak.

On a side note, I am officially addicted to this years worldcup official theme song wakawaka by Shakira. Tsamina mina, eh eh, Waka waka, eh eh.. Tsamina mina zangalewa, This time for africa!cheers!

stuck in MUD.

2010-04-17T12:49:00.002+08:00

The topic for today is something that a large number of university students can relate to. It is a silent killer, which strikes in their early twenties. It is something that robs the sleep of many and turns them into panda-eyed zombies during the day. Something that makes them turn and twist in bed and hence spoil the springs in their beds. Something that makes them invest in wigs because they have ripped out their hair. It comes unannounced, and catches you at the worst possible hour and hangs onto you like a persistant flu bug. It makes you hallucinate and turns you into an insomniac, with loss of appetite as a side effect in many.

Ok, melo-drama aside. I'm talking about Mid-Uni Depression, or MUD for short. You reach a juncture in the ultimate or penultimate year of uni life where you begin to question what exactly you desire in life. At a young age, one has the freedom to dream large and churn their mental futures. However, when the time to execute it nears, they soon begin to look faint and you question their practicality and possibility. It seems like I have reached that phase of MUD. Hopefully some miracle will hand out a stick and pull me out of this MUD before it dries out. I shall perserve till I find that solid ground again. I have to.

And I really wonder why some people forget that they are humans at the end of the day. It does not matter if you are the president of the US or a domestic helper, at the end of the day you should never forget what you on this earth for and you should always maintain humility and respect for others. Some people simply cannot see beyond themselves, it seems. But alas, we cannot change others, so we live with them and tread on our own paths, without letting them knock us off. God is always watching, after all.

The thicket to life.

2010-03-27T16:54:00.002+08:00

The other day, while I was trudging through a forest on an eco field-trip and swatting away random bugs that nested on my skin albeit temporarily, with beads of perspiration rolling off my forehead (don't mind the slight exaggeration), I realized how similar life in general is to a rainforest. In this instance, our life starts off as seeds in this already populated world. Here, if we're lucky enough, we find nutrient filled ground to nestle in and grow. From birth, competition towers over us (representing the older canopy trees). We grow, nevertheless, with whatever nutrients we find around us (mostly given to us, in the seed cases, by our parents). When we're self-sufficient (upon growing our own leaves), we reduce our dependence on our parents and start to fend for ourselves. In countries like the USA, this would be synonymous to moving out of our parents' homes into our own apartments. And perhaps this would refer to being financially independent, in the context of Singapore.

Some of us, start off as parasites and live off others as climbers or parasitic plants for the rest of our lives, often inconveniencing the people we live off. This could be synonymous to people who prefer to get ahead of others by using them as stepping stones. Others practice friendly competition or compete with their inner selves to strive for the better and grow on their own accord with their own roots. Very often the former tend to forget where they come from, while the latter stays grounded and rooted in their values (pun intended) and stay true to their morales.

Whichever route a person (or a tree) adopts and treads upon, determines their fate in this world (or rainforest). Often, once we grow above or become more affluent than another, for instance, there is a tendency to look down on and steal resources from those who are still struggling (the seedlings). This happens among human beings, as much as it happens in nature. However, those who are able to maintain humility and perhaps in the context of the rainforest - develop leaves with gaps to allow some resouces to reach those below, can truly be considered as true human beings.

Eventually one's life nears an end and ends in various ways - catastrophically (being struck by lightning) or being martyred (being logged down for furniture or paper). Or one could grow to a ripe old age and allow generations to follow suit and eventually get gnawed away by termites, and leaving but their contributions to the rest of the world, in the form of their nutrients. This is the way life goes. From a seed to immense competition and eventually death. But will human beings ever break out of this cycle and find peace in simply being who we are, or will be continually get stuck in this ecological cycle of life where we constanly strive to survive? Some food for thought. Cheers!

For better, or for worse.

2010-02-20T19:12:00.003+08:00

I believe everything has to get worse initially in order to get better. Somehow things work that way. Think about it, in order to convert a dough into a scrumptious muffin, it has to go through immense heat in the oven. Or take the example of a child, who has to fall and scrape his knees before learning to ride a bike or skate or how he has to struggle in the deep end before he or she learns how to do the butterfly stroke. If you're not convinced, take the simple case of catching a cold or the flu. Your condition inevitably worsens only to get immune to the flu for some time. It seems to a formula that all walks of life use. Take for example a caterpillar morphing into a butterfly. I would call this the 'delayed gratification' formula.

But sadly, this 'delayed gratification' formula is the very thing that seems to be holding human beings back from doing much about the world's impending devastation. It is only when we realize that the ozone has a hole or when the panda is growing extinct that human beings seem to see the need to act. It is when a condition is driven to the a critical point that people see the need to find a solution. But hopefully it isn't too late when we do act and hopefully the formula still stands by the time we are done.

Made-up reality

2010-02-20T17:27:00.005+08:00

It's 2010 - two years prior to when the mayan calender predicts the world is going to come to an end. Fact or fiction, no one knows. People and religions churn out other hypotheses of apocalypse and accumulative natural disasters, but no one truly knows what is in store for us. It is in our human nature to make theories in order to make sense of what happens around us. Justifications for what transpires and the invisible hands that mould our future. That is how religion plays such a crucial role in our lifes - it makes all these happenings around us make sense.

On another note, I was just wondering how real reality shows really are. I mean, take the show Survivor as an example. While the 'castaways' eat off fallen coconuts and boiled rice, what do the producers, camera crew and the host eat? And what truly transpires in the hours when they do not telecast anything remains a mystery. In those 1-2 hour snippets, we are shown their hardships and what not, but what about the lapse of time in between the telecasts? For all you know, the contestants meet up and have a glass of beer. Just a random thought. Who knows, maybe they even sensationalize shows and sieve for contestants who can potentially create certain conditions on the show. Everything goes in the tv industry and we get drawn in like drama-hungry consumers. But that's the name of the game. As human beings we tend to create drama in our own lifes anyway, so much so that we lose touch of reality and start living in fantasy worlds of materialistic possessions.

To wrap it up, I think even though these shows and fantasy worlds we create add spice in our lifes, we should never forget to take it with a pinch of salt. What things look like on the exterior, may not be representative of the inner self and one should always attempt to look at that inner soul of anyone that they meet. It is easier said than done, but it is true that you only know half of the story till you try to read the inner half.

goodbye 2009.

2009-12-31T22:14:00.015+08:00

2009 has been possibly one of the most eventful years of my twenty one years on earth hitherto. Some of these events encompass my summer exchange to UCLA and the fact that this year marks my 21st year on this planet. And what a way to commence the year than with a heart-warming and utmost satisfying experience when I embarked on a 2 week journey to aid the lives of Cambodians in need.

Yesterday marked the end of the youth expedition program or overseas project I embarked on with a group of 17 wonderful individuals, in Cambodia. This was an experience like none other, and no matter how clichéd it sounds, the memories forged will remain dear to me for life. Through the course of these two weeks, we carried out a concoction of projects through collaborations with the Khmer Youth Association as well as CEDAC.

In the first project, we worked with youths (from 16 to 20 years of age and above) to train and provide lessons on anti-alcoholism affairs. Following that we helped them hold an anti-alcoholism fair in Khmer (their native language) - which was a success! (: To publicize the fair and invite people, we combed several areas in Phnom Penh with posters and fliers. I memorised a few sentences in Khmer as well! That was quite an experience. I was hoping I would not end up saying something wrong and get stares. Haha. In any case, the problem of alcoholism is a burgeoning one in countries like Cambodia, where alcoholism seems like a cleaner alternative to water and a quick solution to problems. It does not help that the streets of Cambodia are littered with posters that attempt to increase sales of alcohol through pictures of happy families and glitzy lifestyles. They openly advertise cigarettes as well; an act which would probably would get you sued in Singapore. Advertisements like these aims to target the weak-minded and less educated and these people get sucked into a never-ending vicious cycle of poverty and sorrow. It is truly a saddening case. However, we did our part is trying to educate Cambodians on the negative aspect that surrounds alcohol and hopefully the KYA will propagate our efforts. Working with the KYA youths was truly an experience which I will cherish for a long time to come. They truly warmed my heart with their non-judging acceptance and carefree lifestyle. It is remarkable how to find bliss in the simplest of things like bread and fruits, unlike youths in Singapore who yearn after lifeless technological gadgets. As the first project drew to an end, we also visited a village to talk to ex-alcoholics and their stories of quitting really made me smile.

The second project was conducted at Kampong Chnnang, where over the course of the next few days, we built a grand total of 55 water filters from scratch to be distributed to households in the village. That was a back-breaking experience! - Drilling holes into buckets with basic tools, washing gravel and charcoal, packing sand and what not. While working in the village was far from convenient and we had to go through harsh living conditions (for example, no toilet, electricity or clean water), it was all worth it in the end. We even taught the village kids how to wash their hands correctly and brush their teeth as well as draw fruits. It was heart-warming when the kids remembered the actions and complied. Initially they were hesitant and distant from us but towards the end of the project they warmed up to us to the extent that they’d hop onto our backs for piggy back rides and what not. Seeing their carefree life in spite of their harsh living conditions was a thoroughly warming experience. I take away so much not just from the experience I had there but in terms of how much the Cambodians I have met have affected me in more ways than one. On a side note, the girl in the picture next to me really reminds me of myself when I was younger to the point that I referred to her as ‘baby vibha’. She’d go behind our backs while we’re working in the sun and give ticklish massages, climb trees and run around playing mischief. But they really livened my life for the few days we were there.

I feel that people really tend to take their lives for granted when surrounded by comfort and technology, for one. However, we need to remember that there is a life beyond material possessions that make us human. We should never let these material possessions and dispensable objects be the centres of our lives and should instead look into our own values and relationships and mould our lives around these. We have to constantly remember that we have been blessed with a gift from God in the form of life and we should live it to its fullest. Hardship comes and goes, but it is after all how we ride the storm that matters and not how we let the storm ride us.

On the whole, I think 2009 has been quite a roller coaster ride and I look forward to 2010 with a tinge of excitement and a dash of apprehension together with a spoonful of hope and aspirations.

Till 2010, cheers! (:

veinte un años.

2009-12-11T22:14:00.008+08:00

24th November. The day I completed twenty one years on earth, as the title suggests (for those who understand spanish or had the time to use freetranslation.com). Much has transpired in this duration of time and it suddenly hits how old I actually am. Somehow 20 seems less harsher than 21. There's something about that second digit that makes one shudder with thoughts about the upcoming future that lays ahead. Adulthood. Polling rights. These are just two of the slightly intimidating thoughts that formulate in our brains. In any case, I want to simply march right ahead and face what's to come in its face (does not apply for oncoming vehicles/trains though), because life is short.

On another note, today marked the end of a 5 day intensive camp in preparation for an overseas community service trip which I will be embarking on come 16th of dec. Will be heading down to Cambodia! I hope none of us step on landmines or get chased around by goons! However tiring and energy draining these few days have been, I do believe there would be a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction at the end of the day. But I would truly appreciate a spa treatment or an island retreat for a month or something! And it doesn't help that my holidays will completely washed away. If only time could be bought!

In any way, I will end of with a note which I found somewhere. Adios!

Eagle in Storm

Did you know that an eagle knows when a storm is approaching long before it breaks?

The eagle will fly to some high spot and wait for the winds to come. When the storm hits, it sets its wings so that the wind will pick it up and lift it above the storm. While the storm rages below, the eagle is soaring above it.

The eagle does not escape the storm. It simply uses the storm to lift it higher. It rises on the winds that bring the storm.

When the storms of life come upon us - and all of us will experience them - we can rise above them by setting our minds and our belief toward God. The storms do not have to overcome us. We can allow God's power to lift us above them.

God enables us to ride the winds of the storm that bring sickness, tragedy, failure and disappointment in our lives. We can soar above the storm.

Remember, it is not the burdens of life that weigh us down, it is how we handle them.

Letting go.

2009-09-19T23:37:00.003+08:00

Letting go. Two words which possibly sum up to one of the hardest acts one can perform. Nothing is forever, everything comes to an end. And we humans eventually have to succumb to letting go of something possibly precious. It may be parents letting go of their baby to let it take its first steps apprehensively or them letting go of their child's two-wheeler bike so that he can cycle on his own for the first time. This follows them letting go of their child as he or she goes to college or enters adulthood and gets married to start his or her own family. We let go of things everyday. Small and big, tangible objects or thoughts. Everything.

But somehow emotions get you tangled in a string of thoughts which tie you back from doing what's right. And when you finally let go, your heart sinks and you drop to your knees helplessly. But sometimes it is a necessity. Because you know deep down that letting go will be for the better. Somehow, somewhere. So we let go of this feeling and dear thoughts and we head on to repeat the cycle again. Nothing's forever as we like to believe. And nothing's always ours. We have to remember that everything is a gift from God and it is never within our power to hold God's given things forever. We merely loan them. So we let go when the time comes. And we cherish every memory that we had while it lasted.

Red, White and Blue.

2009-08-21T23:10:00.005+08:00

I'm back, armed with a dustpan and a broom to dust and clean up this blog of mine which probably would have developed cobwebs and a musty stench, if it were a room (which has been unopened for a long duration of time). Well, you can probably notice by now, that the author of this blog has failed to post any new entries since the beginning of 2009. Much has transpired since then and it would take me a long period of time if I were to divulge each and every detail. The highlight of these few months was obviously my SUMMER PROGRAMME TO UCLA. (:

I can safely mention that the 50 odd days I spent in the states over the course of this summer programme have been one of the highlights of my life. It was an experience to behold and cherish and I have grown immensely as a person and in terms of knowledge. Unforgettable memories of my time there have been etched in my mind and the friendships forged will remain dear to me for the rest of my life. Before I type myself to tears, I'd like to share some unforgettable pieces of memory attached to each place I visited. Since I'd take ages to share each and every moment experienced, I will only ramble on about my favourite memories.

First and foremost, I love San Francisco so much that I wouldn't mind migrating there to retire! Fisherman's wharf was truly a pleasure and Alcatraz, a sight to behold. Going on the bay cruise and cruising under the famous Golden Gate Bridge was astounding. Though I wished there was leser fog that day. That's another thing - loads of fog in San Fran. But it was BEAUTIFUL. Everything from the crookedest street in the world to the trams. But freezing cold all the same, with chilly wind factor added to the perpectually cold climate. But apart from that, I'd agree to hop on a plane and head down there in a jiffy!

In LA itself, so much transpired. Went for two red-carpet movie premieres! Of Public Enemies and Transformers II. Never thought I'd be so close to Christian Bale and Johnny Depp. (: Apart from that, we met Intermilan footballers! They happened to be training on UCLA ground. How likely is that to happen? Anyway, met the famous Materazzi and many others (: AND the week after or the week after next, Barcelona came down to train. And the tennis LA open was held in UCLA as well. If this isn't enough, the extremely depressing episode of MJ happened a stone's throw away from my place. Got interviewed by BBC radio as well. I was so shocked when I heard the news that my friends and I literally ran to the UCLA medical plaza and joined the throngs of people there. May he rest in peace. Apart from this, a whole load of events transpired in LA itself and I'll need at least a 100 blog entries to fully explain everything.

Las Vegas - Factory outlet shopping, the beautiful fountain show outside Bellagio at night, the GRAND CANYON, hoover dam, beautiful hotel structures and loads more. Standing at the cliff of the Grand Canyon truly left me astounded by its natural beauty. After having braved the 50 degrees celsius heat and hot gusts of wind and the extremely long journey, this was all worth it. Hoover Dam was also a beauty. Las Vegas shopping was a joy! We went to the outlets at the south of the strip twice and did the most shopping there. And why not? The deals were superb! So basically, Las Vegas burned holes through our pockets. And not because of gambling, as it is the case for most people. Haha. Tried my luck at the slot machines though and won a grand total of.. $1.25. (:

Disneyland was one of the best experiences in the states. We spent 2.5 days there and the hotel we chose was really cosy and homely and really affordable! One of the best hotel experiences, I would say. Aside from that, Disneyland is truly the happiest place on earth. Just stepping foot into it you'd have a smile plastered on your face for the entire day. And the fireworks are remarkable, but a waste of money and resources. But anyway they earn loads from their customers. I can go on and on about Disneyland, but I think this should suffice. It livened the child within me for those few days and left me grinning from ear to ear.

Lastly, San Diego was a unique experience. We lived in downtown San diego which meant loads of pubs and dodgy areas around, but we survived. Haha. We stayed in a hostel and had I would say, colourful experiences. The great part was that there was a common kitchen and eating area, where we could make our own food and they'd provide ingredients. We went to the San Diego Zoo and Seaworld while we were there. Seaworld was great! If only I could bag an internship as a dolphin trainer. I would never grumble on my way to work. The zoo was not as fantastic as it is made out to be, but the variety of species was commendable. I still prefer the Singapore Zoo somehow and I bet if somehow someone from the tourism board is reading this, he'd be smirking right now.

Anyway, in my next few posts, I shall insert more snippets of my experiences in the states. But for now, adios amigos y hasta luego! (I learnt Spanish in the states) (:

New-s.

2009-01-12T22:48:00.005+08:00

This period of time marks several beginnings. First of all and most obviously, the start of a new year (~11 days ago). Secondly, and less obviously, the commencement of semester 4 of university. Just the thought of what's to come is enough to give any uni student the shudders. And not from the cold, that's for sure. This semester is going to be exceptionally draining both physically and mentally for me. I'll be wading and swimming frog-style in a pool of projects, assignments and tonnes of lab reports. But I guess it'll be over in no time. Or so i hope.

Anyway, I wonder why people celebrate the first day of every year. I mean, if this day marks new beginnings, so does every other day. Something new happens every single day of our life. Someone may fly a kite for the very first time, while someone else may have baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies without burning them to soot after 10 tries. Something remarkable happens every single day and we by human nature undermine these happenings or chuck them aside without much thought. So why should we celebrate simply the first day of every year? Every day should be a celebration and the mark of something new.

All this aside, today marks the release of the O level results. I still remember this day rather vividly from over 4 years ago. In any case, I'm really pleased with my tutee's grades. She managed to improve her A math grade 3 fold (from an F9 to a B3) and her science grade 2 fold. My primary school tutee improved too! At the end of the day, this is the best repayment I've had from giving tuition.

Anyway, this is about it from now. Am exhausted to the bones and beyond. Cheers!

2 decades.

2008-11-23T19:55:00.003+08:00

Tomorrow I would have completed a whole 2 decades on earth. Currently, mixed feelings are welled up within me. Apprehension for the next stage of my life as well as a certain tingly feeling of excitement are building up within me, among many others. For those who drive, turning 20 feels like the stage in life when you remove your 'P plate' from your vehicle after an year of acquiring a license. Which will be arriving soon as well, in December. Actually, this would be a more accurate description of turning 21. But well, 20 is no joke either. It feels like you can no longer make a mistake on the road and point to the P plate, which serves as a self-explanatory mechanism to inform the driver affected that you're an inexperienced driver.

In any case, for some reason adding a tiny 2 in front of my age feels like a humongous change to my life. It almost feels like the 'next stage', whatever that means. But whatever it is, change comes and this is just one of those changes. I shall accept this bend at the end of the road, which shall wrap up my teenage years and head me in a completely new direction. But at the same time, I think nothing much will change and maybe this will just be my twen-TEENth year, so to speak. I'm excited for what's to come my way, although apprehension's attached to that excitement.

Oh and with the global recession and financial downturn and what not, people should utilise this ingenious idea of a shopping cart (see picture below) to minimize their spending and stick to their bare necessities. I should market this product someday - it'll work wonders. :)

Black House

2008-11-06T23:36:00.004+08:00

Obama won. Phew. Thankfully McCain no longer has the avenue to follow in the footsteps of a certain republican predecessor. You know who I'm talking about. And what a historic day yesterday was. America's first african-american president. Something that would have been unimaginable and hard to swallow decades back. I surely hope big changes in the positive light are implemented. We know where most eyes will be focused for the next 4 years at least.

On a more micro level, the semester's drawing to an end SOON. It's one of those instances where you look back and wonder where all the time went. For some unfathomable reason it just feels like the semesters are getting shorter and shorter. Maybe the body's biological clock gets adjusted to the yearly schedules and rhythm sets in. Amazing system, we have. Right from the components of human cells to arms and legs.

In any case, the end of the semester also implies the onset of a system of torture and agony manifested in the form of repeated blows from question booklets conducted during a period of silence - the finals. This is one of the main reasons behind pre-mature ageing of hair for some, and insomnia for others. Whatever it is, the brain cells definitely get more exercise than the body does. Or so has been the case for me, at least. For a long time. Hence the accumulation of 'tyres' around my waist.

Anyway, that's about it for now. Cheers!

Directions.

2008-08-30T23:32:00.006+08:00

How many people can say they know exactly where they'll be maybe 5 years from now, or know exactly what is to happen, when and where? I highly doubt anyone can. Well, unless he or she claims to have supernatural, psychic insights or something of the sort. But even then, we don't and will never know exactly where we're headed until it happens and *BAM!* realization throws cold water in your face.

Life is like a maze of some sort. You make a turn and see a corridor in front of you, but when you reach the wall at the end of it, there's another decision to make - to turn right or left. Once you're in the maze, you have a whole series of decisions to make to finally reach your destination. And when you do, another destination commences and you get thrown into yet another maze.

In this loony world of possibilities, anything can happen at anytime. But I do believe one thing strongly, that things happen for a reason. Spiritually speaking, God knows what's best for one. Knowing that works wonders when one has no clue as to why certain things transpire in their life. But at other times, the pile of questions one has overshadows all logical thoughts or thinking processes and leaves one in a daze and completely muddled up.

And in spite of all this, I'd rather not consult a crystal ball for what's to happen in the future (if there ever were such a ball). Maybe we're not meant to have a map of our life with the directions scribbled on them. We're meant to figure these out for ourselves as we tread along the path of life. We're all born with a blank sheet. When we leave this world, we have a map of the directions of our life.

Phelps-piration.

2008-08-18T22:19:00.003+08:00

First of all, congratulations to Phelps on having won 8 gold medals. (like he'd ever chance upon this humble blog of mine. But well, you never know.) It was sort of expected though, given his performance in the 2004 olympics (his first shot at the medals). One can really grow and develop himself or herself within a span of a few years if he or she sets her mind, heart and soul to it. Anything is possible. Success comes to those who think they can succeed.

In any case, I subjected myself to the sport of swimming for the first time in maybe 6 years today. I still prefer jogging, but swimming truly works out every inch of your anatomy. Truly and surely. Well, that's if you actually bother to swim laps and not float in the water and look pretty. I'm going to have to endure the aches for some time. I feel fulfilled though. Speaking of swimming, attached below is a video that'll crack you up for sure. A classic, might I add.

Cheers!

The Season of Sunglasses and Umbrellas.

2008-08-09T00:04:00.008+08:00

The heat from the 1pm sunshine is enough to fry an egg or a patty on the sidewalk these days. Even if one is indoors enjoying the bliss of a personal air-conditioning system in one's abode, one stare outside the window in the afternoon is enough to make one shudder. Hence the remarkable rise in numbers of umbrellas, classy sunglasses and well, people clad in sun-proof clothing (less clothing). Sunglasses do work for multiple reasons. Eye protection from UV rays is one thing. It also causes the brain to interpret the external heat as more tolerable (due to the shaded effect or the feel of one being in a shade) and hence they perspire less. My personal theory. Logic or not, that's for you to decide.

It feels as though human beings have this innate need to create problems and then fuss over them. Global warming wouldn't exist without the involvement of thousands of millions of people burning fuels excessively and unnecessarily or refusing to do something as simple as recycling a piece of paper. And then we complain about the heat and the suffering we have to endure. More people should give the song 'Man in The Mirror' by Michael Jackson a thorough listen. The chorus, especially. I've pasted it below.

I'm Starting With The Man In
The Mirror
(Ooh!)
I'm Asking Him To Change
His Ways
(Ooh!)
And No Message Could Have
Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World
A Better Place
(If You Wanna Make The
World A Better Place)
Take A Look At Yourself And
Then Make A Change
(Take A Look At Yourself And
Then Make A Change)

Anyway, that's about it for today's random rambling. Cheers! And God Bless.

The Mummy - Flop.

2008-08-05T19:58:00.003+08:00

This entry is my critique of the movie 'The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor' so if you've yet to catch the movie or are contemplating watching it, continuing to read on is strongly unadvised.

0.5 stars out of 5 is what I would give the movie. This is me being completely honest. The lines used in the movie sounded like they were being read out by amateur actors from a horribly assembled manuscript. They sounded over-rehearsed to the point that they lost their fresh, crisp feel and it didn't help that the dialogues were cliche and predictable. I could predict what the actors were going to utter more often than not. It was that bad. Ok, I'll give some credit to the special effects and what not. But the delivery was just thumbs down. I enjoyed munching on my popcorn more than watching what was being shown on the screen. I very much prefer the older two versions of The Mummy.

Anyway, that's about it for now. Cheers!

Pleasurable Kneading.

2008-08-01T22:37:00.004+08:00

I just realized my post title can be interpreted in several ways. I could be referring to kneading dough to make, say, pizza, which I, for some absurd reason, found immense pleasure in. Or it could be another sort of pleasure from kneading. Up to your interpretation. By pleasurable kneading in this case, I'm referring to the lovely massage I went for today. My very first massage. At a discounted rate thanks to Sharifah's voucher.

My masseur happened to be a woman from China who obviously conversed in Chinese and only Chinese. Now how do I convey the message that she's applying pressure to my muscles (or flabs) to the extent that my nerve cells signal to my brain the presence of immense pain? - my very first thought when I entered the private room. My second thought was how many articles of clothing am I supposed to remove exactly. It was my first massage. How was I supposed to be knowledgeable about something of this sort?! They should have a poster with the specifics. Yes they should. However the ambience of the room was lovely, with the soothing music playing in the background and the scent from the aromatherapy candles.

On the whole, it was an enlightening and tension-relieving experience. I'm itching to go for a second massage. Now all I do is wait for a stable job in the future or hope that I get a discount voucher some time soon. OR some kind soul could sponsor it. Massages are rather expensive. Cheers!

Bidding Schmidding.

2008-07-29T00:26:00.002+08:00

The time has come. When it's every man and woman for himself/herself. When one wrong move will throw one into misery and extreme sorrow. When paranoia and anxiety hit the top of an emotional parabola. Yes, you guessed it right. Bidding has begun.

For all those not in university yet, bidding is the process by which one acquires modules each semester. Points are accumulated in the accounts as we move from one semester to the next. Basically, we buy modules. This is mostly the period of time I want to get done and over with ASAP so that I no longer have to fuss over my timetable. Long gone are the days of spoon-feeding and being given pieces of paper with our entire academic timetable printed in black-and-white. Long gone are the days when we needed to give excuse letters to avoid doing PE. In fact, long gone are the days when a plate of noodles cost a mere 60cents. Well, things change and the world keeps revolving so we should keep moving along with the flow. After all, no change isn't good either.

In any case, I really hope I get the obstetrics and gynaecology module as my GEM (general elective module). May this period be over in a jiffy. Cheers!

A Clean Slate.

2008-07-25T21:33:00.000+08:00

Starting anew - something we do every now and then. Be it after narrowly missing being hit by a double-decker bus or after one has quit a nasty habit and wants to start afresh. My want to start from a clean slate is manifested in the form of my new blog. Perhaps the old blog simply doesn't cry out 'update me' anymore.

In any case, the third semester of university will be commencing soon. No matter how cliché it sounds, time really flies by. No really. It seems just like yesterday or maybe the day before yesterday that I stepped foot into NUS without a clue on how bidding works or where the best eateries are located. And here I am, entering my second year. It's only a matter of time (a few months) before I complete 2 decades on this planet. If you think hard enough, 2 decades is no joke. 20 whole years. Plenty of events can transpire within 20 years. Over the span of 20 years, 2 platypuses (or is the plural platipi? have always been confused) can mature, grow old and die consecutively. I'd have lived the maximum number of years a porcupine can survive for on earth. My goodness. I'm ancient and counting.

In any case, this is about it for now. My very first post. My clean slate. Cheers!