Where Have All The Years Gone?

Where once my legs could pedal furiously on a racing bike with my friends, streaking around the tracks in the stadium, today I pedal on a stationary bike for only ten minutes at the most and only sometimes.

Where once it was not a problem to traverse across oceans wide, today flying seven hours is hardship.

Where are the days and energy of youth?  Somehow, along the way, time has taken its toll, not only on the physical body, but also on the mind. 

Forgetfulness is now a constant companion. Misplacing things or forgetting where I’ve kept them and even forgetting what I have, altogether, makes me wonder how this came to be.

Someone said that undergoing general anesthesia kills brain cells and if that’s true, then it’s no wonder, having undergone numerous surgeries to resolve life threatening issues.

Bragging rights?  Yes, three lovely grandchildren, two boys and a girl but none staying in the same country.  Some books in amazon.com which gave me hours of pleasure when creating the stories and poems.  Plus English grammar books, trying to do my bit in halting the slide into more and more atrocious English usage by younger Malaysians today.

Time has flown by, stolen by and now I read obituaries.  I see friends who have departed. No wonder that a group of my classmates has decided that we should meet up more often if we can get away from grandma duties, etc., for the day will come when the group will dwindle and cease to exist.

It is saddening when friends, especially good friends pass on and one only gets to know through the obits. Sometimes there are no obits, only through word of mouth. Then one wishes and regrets.  “If only….” Very sad words.

It is now a time of waiting and wondering, when, how?

Tweet

Is Everything Cyclical?

I wonder if it is.  Let’s sit back and look at our lives. 

Babies are born, reared, nurtured and educated.  They become adults and step out into the working world where they build their careers and get married.  They begin to raise their own families and the cycle begins again.

When young adults begin working, they save their money to buy a home.  It is small to begin with and as they make more money, their homes become bigger and bigger. 

At first they drive small cars which they can afford and then progress to bigger cars.

 Then when the children are grown and leave home, they move out of their large homes and opt for smaller ones, more often than not, for apartments which are easier to maintain and there are no gardens to toil over.

The Young Adults

I think all life is cyclical, whether human or animal.  There is birth, growth and then everything comes to an end with death. So a human being is born, grows into an adult, ages and then dies either of disease or other causes.  The new generation replaces the old one and so on.

The Old Generation

Tweet

Pokes to Remind Us Not To Forget Our Aging Mums And Dads

Just over a year ago I posted a blog on the abandonment of the very young and the very old. To date there have been reminders popping up on Facebook that we ought to make time for our old folks for whom time is fast running out.

Caught up in the daily grind of work and taking care of children, we are too busy to spare a thought for our parents who are aging with each passing day.  Sometimes we even forget about them.

One poignant post and image on Facebook shows an elderly man asking the phone repair man what was wrong with his phone.  The reply was that there was nothing wrong with the phone and the old man asks a question, “Then why don’t my children call?”

Another post reminds us to call and speak to our old folks because someday there will only be empty chairs when we want to speak with them and it will be too late for regrets.

Sometimes it’s not possible to visit because of geography but the telephone is always there and with gadgets, it is always easy to skype or Facetime.  So there’s no excuse really not to call and say “Hi, how are you today?”

If geography is not a problem why not make it a weekend visit or a fortnightly one?  Some have come up and said, “But it’s family time!!”

Well, aren’t your old folks family anymore?  Or are they merely looked upon as back-ups when you have problems with maids? Then only do you remember them and send an SOS to which they promptly respond, for no matter how old they are, feeble or not, they still consider you their children no matter how old and much married you are and they will always be there for you.

Will you be there for them?  Communicating with them, visiting them, taking them with you when you take your family on holiday???

Tweet

Death Comes Like a Thief in the Night

The signs are there.  My sister is dying before our eyes.  From a healthy, beautiful, young woman, she has shrunk into a wizened person, her bones showing beneath her thin skin.  All the muscles have been cannibalized by the cancer that has invaded her body.

Day by day she shrivels.  Her lovely features are now gaunt, her eyes sunken and dull with pain.  Her lovely hair is all gone.  It is a matter of time, we know and we wait. Yet when the moment comes and death takes her, and takes us by surprise, it is still a great shock.

Though we are happy that she is released from her prison of pain, we are saddened and pained by her departure. Below is my poem in memory of my sister.

               Death  Watch  

Your lids flutter open, then shut,
Beneath the lids, movements signal
You are aware, though disabled.
All around you, anxiously anticipating your needs,
Wanting to alleviate your discomfort.
Your lids flutter open, you gasp,
Trying to cough up the phlegm,
Thick clotted cream finally expelled, by no means all.
Helpless, we watch you sinking by the hour,
Shrouded in drug fog.
Our pain grows and thickens,
The pregnant silence sliced by your gasps for breath.
Tears well into rivulets running down our cheeks,
As each, torn, wanting you in our midst still,
Yet desiring your release,
Secretly battles with the whys and the why nots;
Needing to understand why,
When a sibling comes to this end.
The unnecessary suffering, the brutality of it all.
A tear slides down your hollow cheek, a final rattle of leave taking.
You are gone but remain cherished in our hearts.
The un-understanding remains;
A niggle still, or rationalized away, by the pastor or the priest.,
Meanwhile with bated breath we wait,

Will it be down the same road?

Tweet

Perceptions: what we see may not be what it seems

Very often what we think we see and understand may not be the case.

It depends on which perspective one is viewing.  All too often we tend to judge from our own perspective without stopping to think further.

Let me illustrate.  A mother is very ill, yet her son refuses to come and see her. To most people, the son would be regarded as an ingrate, a useless son who doesn’t care about his mother.

Apart from what people construe as apathy, a lack of filial piety, or simply a monstrous off spring, could the son have his own reasons for not wanting to visit his mother?

Could it be fear? Fear that his mother is dying and he dares not see her in that condition, frail and so different from the mother he used to know? Sometimes disease  takes a terrible toll on a person’s appearance.  It can be a shock to the system to see a person who used to be so vibrant, reduced to a shadow of her former self.  Perhaps he prefers to remember her as she once was, a healthy and vibrant  mother.

Could it be a denial of the fact that his mother is dying?  If he doesn’t see her, then there will not be confirmation that she is dying.

So it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love his mother.  He is wrestling with his own demons.  Thus can we judge him and mark him as a useless, ungrateful son?

Tweet

The Passing of A Great Statesman, Mr. Lee Kuan Yew

I watched the live telecast of the funeral of Mr LKY as he is better known in his country Singapore.  In the days preceding the funeral, his body lay in state in Parliament House where thousands of Singaporeans and non-Singaporeans came to pay their last respects, having queued for hours to do so.

On the day of the funeral, his coffin, draped with the Singapore flag, was placed in a tempered glass case on a gun carriage, drawn by a guard of honor from the royal marines and armed forces.  Rain poured down as the cortege made its way through the main roads of Singapore en route to the Cultural Center of the National University of Singapore. Thousands of people braved the torrential rain, with umbrellas, in raincoats or simply standing in the rain waiting for the cortege to pass by.  They waved the Singapore flags, threw flower petals along the road and chanted their late founder and first PM’s name. The cameras panned and some people were seen weeping.  The heavens were weeping together with the people. Such a massive outpouring of grief also had me in tears as I watched the t.v. screen.

There was a 21 gun salute and jets flew over head to honor him in this state funeral.

In the Cultural Center, after Mr. LKY’s coffin was brought in, the current Prime Minister, his son Mr. Lee Hsien Loong laid the first wreath on behalf of the family while the President of Singapore laid the second, on behalf of the country.  Ten eulogies followed, the first by his son the PM and the last by his youngest son Mr. Lee Hsien Yang.  Each eulogy touched on different aspects of the late Mr. Lee and how he had touched each of them in their lives. They were deeply moving tributes to the founder father of their country.

Among the foreign dignitaries who came to pay their respects, were Heads of State and his personal friends such as Henry Kissinger and Bill Clinton.  This alone attested to his stature on the world stage.

Indeed Singaporeans had a lot to be grateful to Mr, LKY for.  From a small city state which had been expelled from the Federation of Malaysia after less than two years of its joining, Mr Lee fought tooth and nail to bring progress to his country and to ensure its survival.  It was a country without any natural resources; it had only its people. He had been branded as ruthless and relentless in the pursuit of his dream of  a successful Singapore but I sincerely feel that he was very courageous and the ends in this case, do justify the means.  He had no other choice but to rule with an iron hand if he wanted to succeed in developing Singapore.

In his own words he said that his achievement in his life is Singapore and that he gave his whole life to it. Anyone visiting Singapore today cannot help but admire its greenery and its high rises, commercial bulldings and high rise public housing and private apartment buildings. Its efficiency and vibrant economy continue to draw people.

Indeed, when I was a child, I used to accompany my mother to Singapore and my lasting impression was that it was a smelly and dirty place.  The Rochor Canal was very stinky and the Singapore River was very dirty.  However today, the city is a beautiful, clean and safe.  I feel safe whenever I’m in Singapore and I dare to walk  and take public transport.  In the Malaysian capital of Kuala Lumpur, I never feel safe and I would never take public transport if it meant that I would have to walk to the station or bus stop.  My sister was twice a victim of snatch theft. Fortunately she wasn’t badly hurt. Others have died as a result.

It is all thanks to this great man and his team that Singapore is what it is today, a beautiful, bustling garden city state, a premier  financial center and a place which everyone knows.   Singapore today is a testimony to Mr. LKY’s life work. Rest in peace, Mr. LKY, your life’s work is done, admirably done.

Tweet

In Memory of a Dear Old Friend

Early this week my sister rang to inform me that she saw on Face Book a post that my dear old friend had passed away.

It came as a shock for we had planned to meet up in May after a lapse of more than 20 years.  He lived in Penang while I’m in Sabah across the South China Sea.

I first got to know him when I was in form 2 in Kuala Lumpur.  He used to board with our family for dinner as he was from outstation.  He became part of our family and would help out in all our chores, from scrubbing floors to washing down the walls of our little wooden house.

He used to teach me mathematics, my weakest subject.  He was the one who introduced me to football. I remember we walked from Imbi Road to the Merdeka Stadium to watch  football matches in the evenings. He was the older brother I never had.

He was working in the University of Malaya library as a librarian and it was he who phoned me to tell me of my final year results. I can never forget this incident.

 “You’re kidding!! I don’t believe you!”
“Serious! I won’t play the fool about this kind of thing. Come and see for yourself.” 

I believed I had done very badly as my mind was a complete blank when I sat for one of my papers in English Literature. When I looked at the results pinned up on the notice board, he was vindicated and I was elated. A second class upper is not something to scoff at when your major is English.

He was later transferred to the University Science Malaya in Penang as the Librarian in charge and he made his home there. He had three children, two sons and a daughter.  The daughter is domiciled in the USA while his eldest son is an architect based in Penang.  His middle child passed away from medical complications.

My family and I stayed in his house when we visited Penang a long, long time ago.  When he came to Sabah, he stayed in our house and I drove him up to Mt Kinabalu on a drizzly day.

A kind, gentle and caring soul has left us.  He was a gentleman in every sense of the word.  Never did a harsh word come out of his mouth.  The pictures his son posted on Facebook showed the countries both of them travelled to and Bali was their last holiday destination, before he departed so suddenly, just days after.  They were very happy pictures of father and son together with friends.

Rest in peace, Lim Chee Hong.  So sad that you left before May.  Had been looking forward to meeting up. Thank you for the happy memories that will be cherished always.

 

Tweet

Another Year Older

Time does not stand still and it waits for no man.  Even as we grow older chronologically, the spirit stays young in most cases.  We don't realise how old we are because we feel as old as our spirit.  My nephew remarked that he thought my grandchildren were still in form 2 when one is already in junior college while his younger sister is doing the “O” levels. 

The little ones are growing up fast, the young ones are hitting middle age while the oldies are greying.  We are passing down the traditions of the Chinese New Year to them and hopefully they will continue to observe them and in time pass them down too.  Cultural beliefs and traditions should be cherished as they give us our identity.

 

So the open house tradition continues, with family visiting each other and partaking of what is laid out on the table.  Children and unmarried persons receive the “ang pows” ( red packets containing gifts of money, usually notes given in pairs “.  Married couples hand out ang pows  to them and to their parents, as a way of saying “thank you” for having brought them up and given them the education that enabled them to be what they are today.  It is also a good time for catching up and bonding with family members.

Among the traditions are these that have been ingrained into our psyche.  Spring cleaning before the New Year is a must.  Old brooms are thrown away, window curtains are changed and fresh flowers are purchased to welcome in the new year.

Ancestral worship is still practiced whereby the departed elders are invited into the home to partake of the delicacies on the table.  Prayers are offered whereby we ask for good health, prosperity and harmony in our homes.   After a reasonable period of time during which the spirits of our ancestors would have taken their fill, the son of the house would pray and throw two coins into the air.  If they land one with heads and the other, tails, then he can move to the next stage where paper money, clothing, shoes etc . are burned.  These will be received by his ancestors who now reside in the next dimension.

Another is taboo.  One cannot sweep the floor as it is akin to sweeping one’s luck away.  Nothing is thrown out on the first day.

Everyone will wear new clothes to signify it is the beginning of a new year and new beginnings. When visiting, mandarins are obligatory as they signify prosperity.  Your host will in return give you mandarins when you leave his house.  One does not go empty handed when visiting.  “Kung Xi, kung xi, xin nien kwai ler “ is the usual greeting.  Young ones are taught from a young age to utter this greeting when face to face with older people. 

Each year these traditions are observed and the Chinese New Year is a festive period which lasts 15 days.  All family members head for their respective homes to celebrate and the reunion dinner is the most important meal of the year.  The oldies look forward to this reunion every year for as long as they live as each could be their last.

Tweet

The Craft of Writing

The process of writing does not come easy.  Whether it is a simple paragraph, an essay, a poem or a short story, it has to be planned and plotted.

Story writing is a craft that is not easy to learn, as I just found out.  A story line, characters and their development, the conflict and the resolution: these are the inherent components.

Language is another aspect.  As an author, you need your character to engage with the reader.  The character has to be very compelling so that the reader is hooked and wants to read the book.  So your language has to come alive, to make your characters in the story real and the reader is able to empathize with them.

To a writer, the person’s desire to read his book translates into sales which means money for him.
So you see, your plot has to be interesting, with unexpected twists so that the reader will want to continue reading it.

Once a story is completed, that is not the end of it.  Editing, proof reading and amendments or polishing where called for has to be done and this can be many times before the story finally comes into print.
It is a labor of love and the final copy is the baby you have created, nurtured and delivered, after a painstaking process.

A sense of accomplishment can be very satisfying when you hold a copy of your printed book in your hand.

Tweet