what we are missing

i went to the secondary school debate finals on sunday, where RI competed against SJI. one of my favouritest juniors messaged me and asked me to come and support him. so i brought taufiq along, and down we went to the masjid sultan auditorium. there i met up with some of the juniors whom i have not talked to for a million years. it felt good meeting up again after all that time, and it was really sweet to have them remember you even after so long.

as we sat through the debate, i made some observations of the dynamics of the whole group. and i reminisced my experience as a teenager with a tight group of friends.

i saw through them, the exact same thing that we had as secondary school mates. a common identity, a sense of brotherhood and unity that led us towards the same things. a bonding that was so strong that it would almost kill if removed. the collective fun, collective joy, collective sadness, collective tears that i could see. empathy reigned and every one could almost read the other's mind. and it reaffirmed my conviction that there was no better time than the years in secondary school, where you truly felt that you had companions for life.

as i recapitulated my thoughts to taufiq, i asked him why we had to change so much.

he said that as people get older, their circle of friends get smaller. and its just a natural process of selection and deselection of people whom you decide deserve your attention and concern.

well, natural as it may be, i find it sad that it had to be that way.

we are missing a lot.

zapin, here i come

tarian on saturday night was a whole new experience all over again.

zapin.

a most energetic, lively and enchanting dance form to me. and it was one of the greatest pull factor for me, when i even considered entering perkumpulan seni. and i was even more determined to learn it when we saw the PA peeps perform their contemporary piece during sari budaya. i wanted to be able to move like them. i needed to move like them.

boy was i in for a time.

twisting my oh-so-unprofessional body, doing back flips, contorting but controlling your frame through different levels of motion - i really was not prepared for it. i actually felt the utter need to train up, and how my current form will not in the least bit help in making me a better dancer.

my body reacted really bad to the whole regime. my ankles were sore, and my muscles all tensed up the next morning. My butt was aching to the max, and even lifting my legs hurt. my whole pelvic region was sore from all the thrusts and gyration. and i could not even laugh, 'cos my stomach would resist in pain everytime i doubled up in mirth. it was a weird feeling. i like it, knowing that i am punishing myself for not keeping in shape. but at the same time, it was that exact thing that might actually get me back to shape.

hahaha...i hope.

a personal apology

brother, a great misunderstanding was what it was all about. i know you had my best interests. and i appreciate it. and i do need you to keep on doing it, that's what you should do.

but the shock of it all just hit me, as how i said, like a slap in the face. and my disappointment was not towards you. it's towards me. i let myself down. you did not.

and i am happy that you feel no remorse, 'cos you should not.

thank you thank you thank you.

and for the record, you are a beautiful person, inside and out.

human is beautiful, perfect is boring

that was what tyra banks said in the show "the next american top model". she was referring to the models trying to achieve a certain aura of perfection, which only made them look like every other model and no personal character to show.

how her words ring true.

last night, i had conversations with two people. and the conversations left me distressed. but its not a bad kind of distress, just a thinking and reflective me.

those who know me will maybe say that i have certain qualities. though my bad side does come out occasionally, i generally portray a rather genial and approachable person, and one who has his thoughts sorted out and life figured out in his own way. and personally, i do try my best to live up to whatever expectations that people have of me, and it is a personal effort to make myself appear the best that i am to anyone.

but it hurts when somebody comes up to you, and tells you that cracks are showing. well, that was what happened last night. somebody told me that i had cracks and that he could read it. and i was shocked, affected. i mean all this while, i thought that i was covering my tracks pretty well, but it seems that i screwed up somewhere. and somebody got a whiff of my scent. to be honest, at that moment in time, i was devastated. appalled at myself for not being able to be that person that i am striving to be or at least give the impression that i am so on the way to becoming that person. we all want to be somewhere, be someone and we try.

but when somebody gives you that slap in the face, you lose your drive.

i got slapped last night. and its not that i am not thankful. but i would appreciate it if people could be more honest without me having to ask. and if you do care for me as a friend, please do not be considerate to the point you do not tell me what my flaws are when you see them. i will know your consideration in the manner that you tell me.

and another friend got slapped too. and sadly in a manner which does not befit her compassion and grace.

we are all human, and beautiful in our own ways. truly, we need to have our flaws and our weaknesses. but what matters is that we strive to achieve betterment and make our lives fulfilling despite the flaws. and what is sad, is that some people sometimes just don't bother.

so are these people beautiful too?

when movies wax philosophy

in my craze yesterday, i went to watch two movies, a day away from my first exam paper.

first up was into the mirror, a korean horror flick which was really not that bad. though not in the ju-on-ish standards of scaring the wits out of me, the use of mirrors in the movie was really really cool. it was built on the premise of alternate universes that exist on the other side of the mirror, and how an individual can be leading two different sides of life, well, on either side of the mirror. and they included freaky characters and twists to the whole plot, which made it very entertaining to watch. and a very satisfying twist at the end of it.

the second in line was the much hyped about passion of christ. i had to watch it because firstly it was suppose to be a portrayal of the last 10 days of Jesus, which i must say was a hell of a time. secondly i watched it for the language (the movie was scripted in aramaic and latin, and i found out that aramaic had very close similarities to arab, which made it even more entertaining). being someone who has an interest in the religious ways, i had to see how they portrayed the last ten days. and i admit, some of the scenes were truly very painful to see, especially the torture they carried out on Jesus. and i cried, because of the emotions that were carried across, the pain of a mother, the anguish of friends, and the whole-hearted sacrifice of a person. thank goodness, i know it was not what had truly happened. and that show too had a very satisfying ending.

they had not intended it to be anti-semitic. but i personally feel that the portrayal of the rabbis had to be done that way to up-play and really define the compassion and ultimately the sacrifice of Jesus. and i admit that i felt so much anger and hate towards the rabbis (in the show that is).

i love it when movies leave me with so much more than just simple viewing pleasure. when they tweak my mind and even more so, my emotions, it makes the money so much more worth it.

shortlisted

life has a funny of sneaking up on you when you think everything's ok and everything's going right
and life has a funny of helping you out when you think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up in your face...
Ironic - Alanis Morisette

first of all, my deepest gratitude to the Most High, for giving me the opportunity and keeping my hopes and dreams up...i sure hope that He will grant my wish and allow me to prove myself in a field where i will be able to interact with people...and at the same time, appreciate His gifts to us and help others...

i have been shortlisted for the OT course in NYP. and i hope that i will be able to follow through and give them the best that i can be. i believe that my prayers have been answered, but nothing is given for free, and i need to put in my effort here. and i will do my best i promise. its a life decision after all.

if things as planned, there will be many changes to the way i live. but i will gladly partake of them.

and a pleasant surprise indeed this has been, and i am very thankful.

to farida, if you are reading this: good luck for your side of the waiting game.

and to those who supported me and prayed for me, thank you...please keep it up till i am confirmed a place. it means so much to me.

daughter from danang: the commentary

that first part was a narrative, so it was slightly long. but here now are my views and thoughts about the content of the documentary.

i was very moved by the whole piece. truly.

there could not be a more apt and concise portrayal of firstly,the cultural disparity between asians and americans and secondly, the effects of war. i am not blaming any one party for any fault. rather i am just truly saddened by the fact that they (the disparity and effects) exist, and in their existence, cause such pain to whichever party that has to bear the consequences.

it was unfortunate that they had to be separated. but look at the consequences. mother and child no longer see each other as what they are meant to be. and what really made me cry was the fact that there was not the slightest hint of an emotional bond between the daughter and the mother. war caused this. and the effects are irreversible. the child cannot appreciate the mother for who she is, and for her sacrifices. there is no love for the person who bore her and gave birth to her. and all the time, she could not understand what her mother was trying to say to her. and she makes no effort to understand. as it is, a mother's love is deeper than one can perceive superficially. but Heidi, lacking heart, could not see the pain that her mother felt, the pain when she had to give Heidi away, the pain of feeling unloved, the pain of her leaving the family once more, the pain of not hearing from her, the pain of the loss of a child. Heidi, as civilised as she was, could not see the tears that her mother shed in silence, awaiting for her reply and her acceptance. i felt the mother's pain, and i could totally empathise with the mother. understandably Heidi comes from America and is supposedly better educated and lives more luxuriously. but if she could not even bring herself to see her mother's pain, and in the very least, appreciate and reciprocate that love that her mother showed her with no qualms, i would have to say, that her education and her luxury, will mean nothing. so much for being progressive, she cannot even accept the condition of her family. and that is what made me very disappointed.

the cultural disparity was proven in this piece. the asian tradition and way of life is based on such a deep respect and love for the family, and respect and piety remains a priority in the life of many asians. giving back to the family is actually common-place practice among many races and religions, especially so if you are asian. this is one culture that i see that sets us apart from the westerners, who at some instances, show an utter lack of respect to the elders and to the family unit as a whole. Heidi demonstrated this albeit perhaps unconsciously. she was not willing to give back to the family, not that i would expect her to give all that she has. but a simple promise would have been sufficient. a simple word of acceptance and understanding and a willingness to attempt would have made her mother so happy. her mother was the one who understood her, rather than she understanding the plight of her family and the nature of their requests. like her family said, they may be materially poor, but their love is rich. that signals that all that they really want is for her to love them. if she could support them financially, she is welcome to. but if she could not, then her emotional presence and support would do more than enough to keep them going. but she would not even give them that chance. she would not give herself the chance to love her own family. and i think that is very very sad.

she did not even cry when her mother cried. well, now i am going to get prejudiced. i cannot stand children who do not appreciate their parents, especially the mother. and if a child is not moved by his mother crying, i really do not know what to think of him.

emo. sigh.

daughter from danang: the story

let me try to be very objective about the above mentioned documentary that i just saw on central. it was part of the singapore film festival, though not exactly a film by nature. but i guess it got through because of the emotional aspect of the piece, which by the way, got me tearing like a babe.

the piece featured an relatively unknown fact of the vietnam war. when the truce was reached, america proffered a gift request - of vietnamese orphans to be couriered over to america for a chance at a better life. the problem was that some of the supposed orphans, were not orphans at all. they were fathered by american soldiers, but for that, they were to be sent back as well. one of them was this girl called Hiep, whose mother still lives in Vietnam. but Hiep being brought to america, assimilated into the life and culture over there, took on a new name Heidi, and eventually had her own family.

but the memories of her past eventually caught up with her, and she had an overwhelming desire to return to Vietnam, and against the odds, find her mother and reunite with her long lost family of 22 years. the initial meeting was of course emotional. her mother broke down and kissed her over and over again. Heidi was brought back to family's residence where she spent the next few days learning and discovering for herself what she had missed the past 22 years.

Heidi came with her own ideas and perceptions as to how things were going to be. she had expected the meeting to be a beautiful and wondrous process, where finally, she could come to terms with who she was. her mother took her around the village, to the market, to the rice fields, to her family members, to her ancestral home. her mother tried to show her her heritage and assimilate her into her family, and i believe that she tried really hard.

but the first blow came to Heidi and shattered her picture-perfect impression of her family. when Heidi visited her sister, she gave her sister some money. unabashedly, the sister asked her for more so that she could support the education of her children. Heidi was taken aback by the blunt honesty of her sister. unfortunately, that was not all. Heidi grew increasingly discontented and disillusioned with the life in Vietnam, she being city and american bred and all that. she could not see herself adjusting to the life there, nor live with her family.

the final straw came when a few days before Heidi left, they had a family meeting. in that meeting, Heidi's brother asked if Heidi would be willing to bring her mother back to the US so that they could live together to perhaps catch up on times, make up for the time lost, and reignite the love between mother and child. and in the meantimes, since she was better off that all of them, they were wondering if Heidi could send some money back every month to help support their mother. Heidi was affronted by such a blatant demand and she left the meeting.

the next scene showed her crying, and saying that she could not do it. she could not take the ways of her family in Vietnam and that she just wanted to go home. And she wished she had never even dreamt of coming back, because her beautiful memories were now all shattered by the harsh reality.

before she left, she told her family, that she could not fulfill their expectations of her. and though she would "try her best", there were no promises. and her mother kissed her, saying that the kiss would keep Heidi's essence with her. she passed Heidi an envelope with the family's residence address and asked Heidi to keep in touch.

the documentary ended with Heidi back in america with her family, comfortable and not wanting to ever revisit that part of her life again. she received many letters from her family, but according to her, all were requests for financial aid.

she never replied to any of them.

i hope you dance

i hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
whenever one door closes i hope one more opens
promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
and when you have the choice to give it up or dance

i hope you dance

Dance - Lee Ann Womack

it would be unfair if i left out a new experience which i had last saturday over at the cultural night. it was my first foray into the unknown world of tarian, or the malay dance form. and the whole experience was like a breath of fresh air.

unknown to me were the intricacies of the art. and unknown too, was the true expanse of the activists who have dedicated their lives to perfecting and furthering their appreciation of dance. well, on saturday, i got a glimpse of them all. and what a beautiful awareness it was.

words will not be able to adequately express what i felt on that day. what i learnt, saw and understood are perhaps only my own sentiments to ruminate.

but the one point that perhaps i would like to highlight after all that is, faith and love come together and sneak up on you to give the best surprises ever. i thought that i had lost a love and lost a part of my faith before this. then somehow, in the greater plan that is His, i got reminded of what and who i truly am.

i am not without love or faith.

through tarian, i rediscovered that other things can create love and heal me. and that in all that love, faith in Him can be re-ignited and become stronger than ever before. He is always around to remind you to look at the bigger picture.

and look i will.

overwhelmed

I wish I hadn't seen all of the realness
And all the real people are really not real at all
The more I learn the more I cry
As I say goodbye to the way of life
I thought I had designed for me

Try, Folklore - Nelly Furtado

today was not a very good day for me. not good in a sense that i really do not what to make of it. while i was trying to cram my shit stuff into my brains for the exams, my mom had to make me reprimand my kid brother who is just in p6 for something that he did. i do not appreciate the times when i have to do such things, for they only serve to make me seem the bad guy. though i know that that is not the intention, i cannot help but feel so. as a brother, there are some things which i have to do, and as a son, those are the things that i have to take over from my parents at times. that i accept.

but sometimes, in the heat of the moment, you do things that you wish you hadn't. and you can't take them back no matter what you do. and that was exactly what happened. i treated my kid bro like an adult, and gave him things to feel really guilty about, responsibilities which shouldn't have been heaped upon him at this present moment. i totally forgot who i was talking to, and treated the whole affair as one of my counsel sessions. and it was not fair. not fair to my kid bro at all.

and i feel real bad for having stolen his childhood in that one instant.

and i do not know how to give that back to him.

i yearn for the innocence of a child, and the carefree-ness of such a life. and yet i took it away from someone i love, because i was not thinking.

i am overwhelmed by my regret for my deeds. i am overwhelmed by my depressed emotions. i am overwhelmed by the expectations that you have of me and the contradicting desires that push me. i am overwhelmed by the shoulds and the wants and the needs.

and i need to run away, or risk drowning in myself.

coming to terms

i know i am not a perfect person. and neither do i act as if i am so. but to whosoever who thinks that i act that way, i apologise, and i would like to take the opportunity to state once again, that i am not perfect.

i am also, by the way, not the person you sometimes make me out to be. sometimes, i can say certain things, and carry myself with a certain flair, but that does not necessarily make me to be that person. circumstances and the environment can make me act differently, because one has to be adaptable and flexible to survive. but i do try to be as true to myself and to you as much as i can.

i may smile outside, but my insides may be bleeding from my self-inflicted wounds. i may speak well, but my inner voice is totally muted by the chaos that constantly erupts inside. i may seem calm and composed, but i am struggling to free myself from the shackles that bind my true being from living the way i want to.

i have come to terms with certain things that i will no longer be able to change, my past, my character, my behaviour, my mistakes, my life, my love, my faith.

i have come to terms with me.

i am not me. and i want to be me.

accept me.