Monday, July 13, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The other day I was asked by a friend of mine to choose between the two things that most if not everyone dreams to find before they kick the bucket. Lots and lots of money or finding your true love? If I were to ask you that question and you had to give me an answer right away, what would you say?
There are probably so many ways I can view that question. Let’s break that it into half and see which one of the two is the better bet. To me, finding your true love sounds so vague because who are you to know that the person you’re with is your true love. C’mon, be realistic, there are more than 6 billion people in this world and who is to say that your true love isn’t in an igloo in the North Pole or in the Sahara Deserts?
If you were to think of it that way, it simply means you’ll have to meet everyone on this planet to make sure you aren’t missing out on that ‘true love’. Realistically speaking, it’s impossible to do so and by choosing lots and lots of money, you get to travel the world in search of your true love, thereby increasing your chances.
Well, I’m sure some people might argue that true love is not just someone, it’s something that’s grown and nurtured by two people after spending plenty of time understanding together. Is it true that true love blossoms only after you make the effort to appreciate the special characteristics about your partner’s personality, eating habits, hobbies, interests etc? Does that imply that a couple that knows one another inside out has found their true love? Does it really take that much effort to find your true love?
Who knows? There's also this one other cliche that has been used countless of times in love stories is one that goes ' I knew you were the one since I first laid eyes on you '. I guess that's just another way of putting 'love at first sight' and that just creates conflict between what I just said earlier.
Maybe after all that debate, true love just turns out to be something you read about or watch in the movies. A 'theory' that does not exist and only lives within the boundaries of our fantasies and dreams.
(This is a totally different topic from true love) I remember how I was once 'in love' and had the quote ‘Love takes two and conquers all’ as part of my nickname on MSN. Damn that felt like a long time ago. You look around and you see living proof of what love makes us do. You see an old man crossing the road on his way to see his grandchild that he loves so much, a working woman who is boarding the bus on her way to a job she hates just out of love for her son’s education or a teenager frantically calling his/her partner just to check if he/she’s safe. Have you just stopped in your tracks and just noticed these little things that happen around you? Absorb the moment and ask yourself how we have all come to this phase of civilization where love is all around us. Do you think we have come a very long way since the cavemen years?
Sunday, November 9, 2008
I was supposed to write this post after my exam, as promised, but I think I’m just gonna write it now since I’ll be spending the whole day in the library and it’ll be impossible for me to sit and study for 8 hours. Give me 2 seconds while I twist and turn to find a cosy position since I’m hoping it’ll be a long post to make up for all the recent reflections and thoughts that I’ve failed to pen for, 2 months? And trust me, I know what it’s like to open a blog and be disappointed to see the same thing over and over again (doesn’t matter whether it’s a good blog).
The past few days have been such a drag for me with the exams and assignment marks coming my way. It’s that time of the year where I travel outside my comfort zone of being able to just drift through life without having that many doubts about my own capabilities. Well, what does it really mean when you say you’re not in your comfort zone? Does it simply mean that you’re somehow in unfamiliar territory where things are just not how you like them to be? Or do you reckon it’s just transition for a change that’s about to hit you?
What’s more significant is the fact that most people (and yes, most people includes me) tend to just crawl back into their comfort zone without actually trying to embrace it, feel/do something different for a change and just go along with the flow. Every time I move back to it, It feels as though I’ve lost a small fraction of thrill and excitement in life. I mean, there’s nothing to life if you look forward to a brand new day knowing you’ve got nothing to look forward to? Don’t you think a person’s comfort zone would become a case of ‘same shit, different day‘ if it just carries on that way for a long period of time?
Just the other day, I was listening to an oldies channel, pretty much the Light and Easy station of Brisbane and they were playing that Billy Joel song titled Honesty. Don’t know if you guys have heard of it but it’s one of those songs that seemed simple but pretty much sums up the true meaning of what the song is all about. Honesty. The lyrics went something like ‘’ Honesty is such a lonely word, everyone is so untrue. “. And don’t you think that’s true? I mean, most of the time people lie and justify it by telling themselves that they do it for the sake of the person they are lying to. They say the truth is overrated because if no one were to find out about their lies, both parties are happy because most of the time, the truth is what hurts right? Of course, everyone has their own definition of a lie but doesn’t a lie simply mean not telling the truth?
You can tell someone that what he/she is wearing is nice when it isn’t and that’s clearly a plain and simple lie. Yeah yeah, you didn’t want to hurt his/her feelings and make it all awkward by giving him/her your honest opinion. But doesn’t it mean that you’re cultivating a habit, a habit of not telling the truth? Old habits die hard and a few small lies like that would someday mean you’ll tell a bigger one. I’m not sure if it was an English or Chinese saying but it is said that everything bad starts with something small and insignificant and becomes worse. Like how a person who’s good at lying, turns into a thief and then ends up being a full-time robber. At the end of it all, it’s down to whether you think the end justifies the means or doing the right thing in the first place is more important. What do you think?
On a very different note, as most of you would’ve known, Barack Obama is now the president-elect of the U.S which is something most, if not everyone predicted to happen. A majority of the people think that it’s a great achievement that the U.S have evolved from the days of apartheid to electing a black man to lead their country. They think that skin colour would no longer be a distinguishing factor in the U.S as ‘proven’ by the elections but if voting for someone because he/she is not black is racism, why doesn’t the same theory apply to only voting for someone because he’s black? I know it’s a fact that might be hard to swallow but I think that the elections in the U.S was in some way a means of proving that racism no longer exists on a large scale there. By saying this, I’m not really doubting Obama’s capabilities as a president but I guess there are always 2 sides to the story.
The funny thing is, after this happened, Badawi who I must say enjoys long naps while his family members run the country, has come out to say that anyone can be the Prime Minister of Malaysia regardless of their race. I must say, that’ll either take a long long time or it’ll take what I thought happened in the U.S for that to materialise. I’m not a big fan of all this political bullshit but when it comes to Malaysian politics, I have to say it takes the number one spot in terms of sex scandals, lies and money laundering.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Well anyway, the other day I was overhearing the conversation my father was having with one of my uncles. I don't remember how the topic came to light but they were talking about money and I heard one of them saying " When will we have enough? Getting rich is like chasing your own tail, you'll never be satisfied with your own wealth. I guess we all just have to know when to stop ".
And it was then that it hit me that all of that held a lot of truth, that money is pretty much the root of all evil. I mean, take the richest man on earth for example, whether it'd be that Mexican tycoon, the man at Ikea's helm or Microsoft's head of the house, they may be able to afford islands but they can't buy say, a poor Asean country. Gosh, it was hard thinking of something that they couldn't afford, but anyway, I hope that point of mine got through.
Of course, it's easy to say that some things in life just can't be bought but whoever says they can live without money is probably just talking with their butts. The difficult part of all that money business is to know when enough is enough and that spending all that time would only extend that barrier between you and other simple things in life that make you happy. And I wonder if I'll be asking myself this very question in the later parts of my life.
And on a totally different note, I'm sure as a teenager you have felt as though your parents existed in this world to torture you, and most of the time, it's because you're angry with what they did/said. No? I don't know about you, but i think parents in general have really high expectations for their children and sometimes expect them to do things that are beyond their reach.
I mean, these expectations are not exactly impossible but to the child, it's sacrificing things that they feel are worth more than let's say, better results for their exams. I know I know, good exam results will allow for more options in the future but really, how important is that compared to things like friendship and nurturing one's values and principles? That I really don't know. It's not as though there's a weighing scale that tells you whether to continue pursuing one or the other. What do you think?
I have to say, it's great to finally be back blogging.. :)
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
an american friend told me once
that normal guys think of sex every 10 seconds
while he, 7 seconds
that's just bullshit..
maybe for him, yes..
but for a normal guy to think of sex every 10 seconds.. i have to say, sex will become REALLY REALLY boring..
since it's always on ur mind
That was part of a conversation I had with my friend and I thought I'd share it with you guys. Please tell me if you agree with my statement or it's just me living in denial. :)
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Which one did you prefer?
Btw, the whole post was taken from the director, Yasmin Ahmad's blog for the convenience of those who wanted to know.
Mum urges Orked to open the envelope. Orked takes out from the envelope, a letter and a cassette. She slips the cassette into the player and turns it on. Home recording piano solo of ‘Belaian Jiwa’ comes on. Orked is visibly moved by the song. She proceeds to open the letter. The music carries through over the next scene.
55. Same time. Ext. The road. (as per letter)
We hear the music, and over it we hear Jason’s words in his letter to Orked. We see him putting on his helmet and getting on his bike. He begins his journey to Keong’s house. He smiles to himself and looks excited. He can’t wait to get there.
My darling Orked. God is answering my prayers. Maggie has decided not to have the baby. She said she won’t destroy her future because of one stupid man. I guess that means me. Orked, I don’t want to talk about her anymore. I want to talk about us. I tried to write a poem in Mandarin about you. I wanted to make you understand how I feel.
As the letter continues, we see Jason make a turn through some back alleys. We see some men in two cars catch sight of him, signal to each other, and start tailing him.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t. I tried for days. The more I wrote, the more empty my words sounded. At first I felt panic. I couldn’t sleep for many nights. But then, the panic would go away everytime I saw your face, or just heard your voice. I used to write poetry because to me, it was like writing letters to God; to tell someone I couldn’t see, how I felt inside. Then finally, God replied. With a poem more beautiful than anything I had ever written. He gave me you.
We see one car follow Jason into the alley. Realising he’s being followed, Jason speeds towards the end of the alley. The other call pulls up on that side. Jason brakes. We see him flung through the air as the men come out of their cars, whip out their guns and open fire at him.
You are my poetry from God, Orked. Let me hear your voice. Please call me. I will be waiting. Just call me, Orked, so I can sleep peacefully again. Your sayang, Jason.
Jason is lying on the ground. His body is bullet-ridden and bloody, but he’s still alive. He is breathing heavily and mutters something unintelligeable under his breath. His eyes just stare at the sky. As we move in closer to his face, we see a tear streaming down the side of his temple.
Jimmy steps out of a car. His head is partly wrapped in bandage. He walks up to Jason with a gun in his hand and puts the nozzle on one of his eyes.
Cut to far end of the alley as some policemen step out of their car just in time to see, from a distance, Jimmy hover over Jason’s body and pull the trigger.
56. Same time. (Continue scene 54) Inside Orked’s father’s car.
Orked puts down the letter, puts her arms around her mother and cries her eyes out. Her mother looks to their father as if asking for his help.
Father is visibly moved by the sincerity of his daughter’s tears.
He speaks loudly so as to be heard above his daughter’s weeping.
Look, I have a really bad feeling about all this. I don’t know how to put it in any other way, but I don’t like the idea of you going out with a boy involved with gangsters and who made a girl pregnant.
He pauses for a moment to take a deep breath and organise his thoughts. Orked stops sobbing and listens. He continues.
You are my only child, Ked. All I want is for you to be safe and happy. Because I don’t know if I’ll be around long enough to see you through. I know jodoh is in God’s hands, and that as a human being, ultimately I have no idea what’s good and what’s not for you. But... I really, really don’t think this one particular boy is the right one for you. I’m sorry.
Orked starts to sob quietly. Suddenly, mother looks at father as if she has just seen a ghost.
What did you just say, sayang?
What? I’m sorry?
No, no. Before that.
I don’t think...
No. You said... I really, really don’t think this one particular boy...
...is the right one for you.
Those were the EXACT words aruah Abah said to me, when I told him that I wanted to marry you, sayang.
Orked suddenly stops sobbing and mutters “Yin-fen” under her breath. Her mother turns around and speaks to Orked as calmly as she can, slowly and deliberately. She wipes the tears off her own face, then off Orked’s face, as she speaks.
Listen to me. I have been speaking to Jason many times over the phone these last few days. Yam too. He told us not to tell you. He also said that he wasn’t sure if you loved him because you never really said so. He’s still waiting for your call. My advice would be that if you really love him, this will be your last chance to tell him in a long, long time.
Orked looks at her mother in a way that could melt any heart.
Mak. Please may I borrow your phone...
57. Alley where Jason was shot.
The gangsters have been handcuffed and are being ushered into Black Marias. Paramedics covers Jason’s body and carry it off on a stretcher. We see policemen talking to their walkie-talkies and we hear static and people taking from the other end.
Out of the blue, a mobile phone rings. A policeman picks up Jason’s blood-stained pouch lying on the ground, opens it, and takes out the phone. He answers it.
Cut to a far shot of the policeman talking to the phone.
58. Same time. Ext. Outside Keong’s house.
Keong is sitting in the hot sun, by the drain outside the family’s terrace house. He is waiting for Jason.
He looks across the street and sees the little Chinese boy and the little Malay girl from Scene 1 in a playground, sharing a swing.
Keong looks down at the cast on his arm. He sees Jason’s handwriting on it. Keong bends his arm a little to read it. It says:
“I'm sorry. (signed) Jason.”
59. Day. Int. Living room of jason’s shophouse.
Close-up of Jason’s poetry book. It is open. We hear Jason’s voice start reading from the page.
Bless this little heart,
this white soul that has won the kiss of heaven.
He loves the light of the sun,
He loves the sight of his mother’s face.
He has not learnt to hate the dust, and love the gold.
Clasp him to your heart and bless him.
He has come into this land of 100 crossroads.
I know not how he chose you from the crowd,
came to your door, grasped your hand to ask his way.
We slowly pull away from the book as Jason’s voice continues to read. As we go further from the book, we see that there’s no Jason, just his voice.
He followed you, laughing and talking, without a doubt
in his heart.
Keep his trust, lead him straight, and bless him.
Lay your hand on his head,
and pray that though the waves beneath him grow
yet the breath from above him will fill his sails and
waft him to the haven of peace.
We pull further until we reach Jason’s mother lying on the sofa. She’s sleeping peacefully. We close in on her face as Jason’s voice completes the poem.
Forget him not in your hurry,
let him come to your heart and bless him...
Cut to black. Roll credits.