For You, A Thousand Times Over.

I shall skip all the explaining why my blog was left to die, like I always have been doing over the past few months, and I shall proudly announce that I’ve finished Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner! I have never come across a book that could make me cry, until now, and this book made me tear up more than once. Definitely a book I would recommend to all, because it’s so profound, so vivid, so inexplicable.

As I read this book, it made me think. I thought about how a friendship could go on with such ingratitude, selfishness, cowardice and jealousy. And yet, it made me think of all the love that in the end, overcame all those things. It made me think about sacrifice, the dear cost that had to be paid because of the friend one would stand up for.

For you, a thousand times over.

I thought about whether I would be willing to go that far.

Lack of Inspiration.

I should update now, because I have no valid excuse not to do so. So I shall do this challenge that Corine posted up.

I don’t think I can do the challenges during BTN, because I would be separated from the rest of the world during that time.  So I shall just post when I am able to.

Day One: Ten Things You Want To Say To Ten Different People Now

1. Go away.
2. Happy holidays in Kuching!
3. I wish I was there for you more often.
4. I’m scared, but at least I’ll have you. And you’re braver, so that’s a comfort!
5. I dreamt about you last night.
6. I see you have resumed your marathon today, and I can’t believe you have around thirty shirts you haven’t worn yet! :O
7. I was hoping that you’d stay longer.
8. Study hard and study smart through med school, I’ll see you at the end.
9. It’s nobody’s fault, but I’m sorry that it cost you.
10. Saw you watching TV shows all day. Enjoying yourself?

46 Years Later, The Sound of Music Is Still Evergreen.

Maria, these walls were not meant to shut out problems. You have to face them. You have to live the life you were born to live.

The first time I watched The Sound of Music, I was four or five. I was just fresh from ‘Snow White and The Seven Dwarves’, and the sudden plunge into a non-cartoon movie was rather an experiment to me. My conclusion? I fell in love with it. It was like bungee-jumping. This was the first Hollywood movie I’d ever watched in my life, and as I took the leap, I fell, madly, truly, deeply in love with it. It was all adrenaline, pure exhilaration. After that, everyday we sang a song from the movie. We sang so often and so loudly,  I felt my sister and I were like the two newest additions to the von Trapp family!

The Sound of Music taught me to sing. Whenever I was scared, I’d sing ‘My Favourite Things’, whenever I felt like being older, I’d sing ’16 Going on 17′, whenever I felt like it was a beautiful morning, I’d sing ‘Edelweiss’… the list could go on forever. And whenever I heard ‘The Hills Are Alive’, I felt like the wind was rushing through my hair, like I was running up the hillside and twirling around like Maria did at the beginning of the movie. For those times where my sister and I felt incredibly invincible, like nothing could stop us, we’d attempt ‘Climb Ev’ry Mountain’!

We’d KILL the last “follow every RAIN-BOW!!!!!!’ high note!

The neighbours had a splitting headache after hearing us screech in hopes of imitating Peggy Wood. I still laugh hysterically when I watch the nuns confessing to the Reverend Mother that they’ve stolen some car parts from the German cars, with the stutter of their engines in the background. Oh, and I first learned to dance while watching that movie too! I used to try to dance the Laendler (the beautiful dance by Julie and Christopher!) with my sister, our favourite part was when we went ‘under the bridge’, if you get what I mean…

Julie Andrews just takes my heart away with her acting, every scene she’s in seems like it’s been doused in sunshine. In Christopher Plummer’s biography, “In Spite of Myself” which he wrote himself, he spoke of Julie and The Sound of Music:

“ There was no turning back now; it was far too late, for before anyone could even whisper the name “Maria,” a hopelessly infatuated world had already made her its hostage.”

I don’t know how they managed it. 46 years later, the Sound of Music still lives on in the hearts of people all around the world. I mean, after nearly half a century, you’d think people would be so sick of it. Christopher Plummer (Captain Von Trapp) did get sick of it. In fact, he called it ‘The Sound of Mucus”!

Every part of the film is so captivating, so breathtaking. *sigh*

I watched the film yesterday after a very long time, and all the memories came flooding back. Without a doubt, it’s my favourite movie of all time.

I fell in love with it all over again.  :)

 

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye.

A 30-second Thought.

I’ve just noticed that whenever I’ve finished playing Diner Dash, I do things much quicker, as if customers would get mad if I didn’t. XD

Give Thanks.

Such a picture tugs at one’s heartstrings. We take too much for granted so many times, we are never satisfied with what we have. This boy reminds me to never give up, to persevere on despite the circumstances. To appreciate everything I’ve ever taken for granted, especially love; the simplest but most beautiful of God’s gifts.

How’s Life?

I feel a little guilt-ridden for leaving my poor blog to die. It’s not that I don’t have anything to blog about, it’s just that penning (or actually, typing) it down in black and white proves to be quite a challenge when you don’t know where to start.

Okay, let’s start with updates.

I’m still here, deep inside the jungle, (Kidding, it isn’t such a jungle, or I wouldn’t have free WiFi here) and my exams have just ended as of around 12.10am this morning! Yes, I am happy and relatively stress-free for the next couple of days. Know why? Because those were only my trials, I’ll have the real exam in about a month’s time! So yeah, this time, happiness is VERY short-lived. A little while before the exams, our college had two festivals, FESNI and FESKOTT, one is for the Performing Arts (Festival Seni) and another is for Sports (Festival Sukan). I really enjoyed both, although I’d only expected to be involved in one.

Now that the exams have just ended, you’ll probably ask me why I’m still here. Usually, after exams, the “Balik Kampung” exodus would ensue. Everyone would be busy packing bags and hurrying to the LCCT, probably the first ones to board the plane, in hopes of reaching home in the shortest possible time. But not this time, no. I’m not going home to my beloved Penang, because classes resume on Monday. I’ve got to learn to do this, because I can’t be pining for Penang when I’m all the way in India.

Updates aside, lately, I’ve been thinking about who I am. Let me be specific, this was triggered by something I read, it went like this: “I’m a Malaysian first and then a (insert race here).” A simple statement, but it speak volumes. I often ponder on whether I’m a true Malaysian or not. Then again, who can really define a Malaysian? Well, for one, I use “lah”. I’ve drunk teh tarik. I’ve eaten potong ice-cream. I’ve played Pepsi-Cola. I’ve parents who often shopped for rotans in the pasar malam. It’s rather hard to define a Malaysian.

Just because you’ve done all those things, or because you do what average, everyday Malaysians do, doesn’t make you make you Malaysian. It’s a lot more than that. Being a Malaysian is knowing where you belong. It’s about knowing that you’re part of a big family, it’s about knowing where your home is. Being Malaysian is about accepting others as your brothers and sisters, and being accepted as a brother or a sister in return. A true Malaysian is one who loves their family, and when you love someone, you stick up for them, you forgive their mistakes, you learn from them and you share with them. You don’t care about where they come from, or how they look. It doesn’t come easy for me, but it’s a long learning process.

Sometimes, it’s good to remind myself. Where was I born? Malaysia, of course. Where have I spent all my life? Malaysia, of course. Where have I had the happiest of memories, the most priceless experiences, the best of friends, the warmest of homes? Where do I belong?

Malaysia, of course.

Family Reunion.

 

It’s that time of the year again, when the red lanterns are hung and the same Chinese New Year “music videos” are being played and replayed over and over again, not to mention the crackling sounds of fireworks despite the many warnings from the police. Everyone is cheery despite the incredibly hot weather, everyone is busy shopping for new clothes, abalone, scallops, mandarin oranges, bird’s nest soup… the list could go on forever.

The Hokkiens have a word for this type of atmosphere, the equivalent of the word “meriah” in Malay. They call it “lau juak”. But as of recent, floods have literally dampened the Chinese New Year spirit in certain areas of the Peninsular.

Yeah, the angpaus are fun to receive, the food is good, everyone seems happy… until you realize that something is not quite right. Chinese New Year is just a formality sometimes, there isn’t much meaning to it. How can there be when the children talk of sending their parents the old folk’s homes? How can there be when children and even grandchildren don’t offer their elders respect? It’s sad because on the first day of Chinese New Year, grandparents have to eat the leftovers on their own because their own children don’t bother asking them if they need transport to a relative’s house for dinner.

I just felt a little overwhelmed when I watched the Petronas Chinese New Year advertisement this year. All they want is a little time, a little love, a little care. After all they’ve done, don’t they deserve it?

Love doesn’t come easy, especially when you don’t really know someone. Love doesn’t come easy, even when you fully know someone. But when it comes to your own parents, despite their mistakes in bringing you up, though you’ve drifted apart when you went abroad to study, though they never really showed their love, don’t they deserve respect?

Love doesn’t show itself in obvious ways, you don’t see it if you don’t look for it. Love was when your father set up an illegal lottery business so that he could send you overseas to study, although he could have been arrested. Love was when your father gave you so much Chinese medicine pills for constipation, though you weren’t having any trouble with bowel movement. Love was when your mother woke up early to cook ‘mee suah’ for breakfast on the first day of Chinese New Year for the past fourteen years. Love was when your father brought home ‘bak kut teh’ every time he went to eat there because you couldn’t get up early enough to eat with him.

Would it be so hard to just remember that they love you and love them back?

A “Squeeze-in” Post.

I got this from Xiu Jing, one of my friends in college via email. I’ve read similar stories about Winston Churchill and Alexander Fleming, but those were untrue, as I’ve heard. Anyway, this one is true according to ushistory.org, so I’m just posting it up for you people, food for thought.

It makes me happy to know that very often, what goes around comes around, even in the most unexpected ways.

 

 

This is a true story that had happened in 1892 at Stanford University . Its moral is still relevant today.

A young, 18-year-old student was struggling to pay his fees. He was an orphan, and not know­ing where to turn for money, he came up with a bright idea. A friend and he decided to host a musical concert on campus to raise money for their education.

They reached out to the great pianist Ignacy J. Paderewski. His manager demanded a guaranteed fee of $2000 for the piano recital. A deal was struck. And the boys began to work to make the concert a success.

The big day arrived. Paderewski performed at Stanford. But unfortunately, they had not managed to sell enough tickets. The total col­lection was only $1600. Disappointed, they went to Paderewski and explained their plight. They gave him the entire $1600, plus a cheque for the balance $400. They promised to honour the cheque soonest possible.

“No.” said Paderewski. “This is not acceptable.” He tore up the cheque, returned the $1600 and told the two boys “Here’s the $1600. Please deduct whatever expenses you have incurred. Keep the money you need for your fees. And just give me whatever is left” The boys were surprised, and thanked him profusely.

It was a small act of kindness. But it clearly marked out Paderewski as a great human being. Why should he help two people he did not even know? We all come across situations like these in our lives. And most of us only think “If I help them, what would hap­pen to me?” The truly great people think, ”If I don’t help them, what will happen to them?” They don’t do it expecting something in return. They do it because they feel it’s the right thing to do.

Paderewski later went on to become the Prime Minister of Poland. He was a great leader, but unfortunately when the World War began, Poland was ravaged. There were over 1.5 mil­lion people starving in his country, and no money to feed them. Paderewski did not know where to turn for help. He reached out to the US Food and Relief Administration for help.

The head there was a man called Herbert Hoover – who later went on to become the US President. Hoover agreed to help and quickly shipped tons of food grains to feed the starving Polish people. A calamity was averted.

Paderewski was relieved. He decided to go across to meet Hoover and person­ally thank him. When Paderewski began to thank Hoover for his noble gesture, Hoover quickly interjected and said, “You shouldn’t be thanking me Mr. Prime Minister. You may not remember this, but several years ago, you helped two young students go through college in the US . I was one of them.”

The world is a wonderful place. What goes around usually comes around.

Why This Blog Has Been Empty.

Because I’m not inspired.

Haha.

My shortest post ever.

One year.

About a year ago, this day was our ‘Merdeka’. I remember a text going around, saying something like “8 Disember 2009, hari bersejarah di mana pelajar-pelajar dibebaskan daripada kongkongan Sejarah, jajahan Chemistry, blabla.. (more nonsense, like the creative people we are.)”

That ‘independence’, or it was more like freedom, you could say, was sadly, short-lived. Everything that happens is history. It’s indelibly stamped  somewhere deep in our sub-concious minds. In this case, history was made when we left school. From now on, we were told, you all are going to be adults.

Adults. It’s frightening to think you’re well on your way to becoming one of them. You’re going to graduate, move out, settle down, bring your own kids up, grow old… and for a moment there, it feels like your whole life is passing you by. When I was a kid, a very young one, maybe about five or six-years old, my mother told me that I was very mature for my age. I didn’t know what mature was, but hey, it sounded like a compliment. When I asked her what ‘being mature’ meant, she told me that it was becoming like an adult. It sounded big, it sounded like the crackle of fireworks, it sounded like finally, you were able to make decisions on your own.

I’m a little short of becoming an adult, although legally, I am already one. Cool, huh? We are, legally speaking, adults. :O Even I find this hard to swallow. Becoming an adult is not about finally being free, no need for parental consent forms (like the one I got my parents to sign and fax to Canada to play Neopets properly), free to drink alcohol, make use of online banking, watch 18-rated movies… It’s not about that anymore. When you find yourself in all this freedom, you actually find yourself tied down even more, because now that you’re an adult, you have to be responsible.

Responsibility feels like a burden sometimes, you don’t want to carry it, but you have to. And when you get a little high sometimes, and feel like doing something crazy, you have to stop and think…

“Is this really something I should do? What will people think of me?”

Back when we were kids, no such thing existed. If you wanted to climb over the balcony and swing yourself upside-down, you rarely thought twice. But then again, there will always be those kids like me, who wanted to play with matches, to see the flame dancing, eating away the wood. Kids who’d turn on the tap, strike a match, wait a second or two, admiring the fiery glow before dropping it into the stream of water. It always gave me an adrenaline rush, to know that danger was so close and yet, so far away the moment I extinguished it. Laugh at me, the ‘chicken’ type of kid. Just a little flame and I’d call it danger, like I’d never tried anything more dangerous. XD

I’ve always been paranoid. Better paranoid than dead, like I always say. Maybe my mother mistook my fear for maturity, when I was actually being wary because I wanted to be safe. The first time I went out with my friends without my parents was when I was thirteen. It wasn’t something I wanted to do very much, because I was scared, scared that maybe some bad guy would snatch me out of the mall, chop off my hands and legs and send me to Thailand to beg. I knew I shouldn’t have read newspapers so young. Maybe then, I would have been ignorant about how cruel the world around me really was, that I didn’t have to look around me so suspiciously like I was being stalked every moment I stepped out of my house.

Until now, the very thought of leaving home to live alone in my own house scares me. If I were to die inside my house, if robbers were to enter late at night, if I were to slip in my bathroom… the possibilities are endless. Which is why I have an issue about growing up. That’s why I don’t think I want to be an adult, not yet. But then again, sometimes the best way to overcome your fear is to face it.

Adults don’t know everything. You should know that because you were a kid before. They might have more knowledge, but they lack the intuition that kids have. Which makes me wonder… as I’m getting older, becoming an adult, does that mean that my scope of thinking is widening? Or is it narrowing, becoming smaller and smaller until I no longer see the world as I want it to be, until I only think about only what is important to me? Is responsibility supposed to cloud my thinking, restricting me to living life only because I have to live it? Or should I choose to keep the child in me, and realise that life is so much more, and that I only have to trust God to get me through it?

I’d choose the latter.