Drifting back to normalcy...

After many moons of being absolutely inundated with work, it's nice to be less harried, less sought after by clients.

I sit in almost stunned silence at the sheer relief.

Have not been able to think of anything beyond December 3rd.

Now that it's here, I feel kinda at a loss what to do with myself.

I actually have FREE TIME to gather my thoughts, put my life back together.

Wow. This is luxury. Thank You Lord, for seeing us through.

Apart from work, a few other things happened. Lost a childhood friend due to a fatal snatch theft over his laptop (over his LAPTOP!!). Recently mourned the passing of a physically-challenged church member - and yet I can't help feeling that she's doin' way better in heaven, with her body made whole.

These deaths have jolted my perspectives somewhat. In the midst of my frustrations at work, I've sometimes exclaimed in exasperation - "Why do I even bother? At the end of the day, will these people come to my funeral?" (Not that I want them to - but you know how rhetoric questions are.)

Really, when the end really comes, all of us just want to have done something significant in our lives, and/or made an impact in the lives of people around us; not wasted our time. We would have wanted to seen much more of the world, written that extra song, told the people we loved that we cherished their presence in our lives.

We would've wanted to tell our parents that we're sorry for every harsh word said, apologized to our siblings for petty fights, sat down with our grandparents more often so that they'd pass on life's valuable nuggets of wisdom and experience down to us.

Maybe I would not have done things differently at work, but at least would've tried to manage the balance a bit better, and not lost my cool with unreasonably-demanding clients.

*Sigh* My thoughts are all over the place.

Time to retreat, to recuperate, to rest. Will be back when I'm normal again. ("Normal".)

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You know you need a break when...

... you say "Chaiwan and Taina" when you really mean "Taiwan and China."

... you ask your Singapore colleague how come you don't see his luggage bag the day AFTER he arrives to KL.

... you want to fling your mobile everytime it rings bearing *another* incessant call from the client.

... you thought you saw a strand of white hair on the top of your head....

Oh boy.

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Chance

If I don't fight for my happiness, no one will.

If I don't yearn for my own betterment, no one will.

If I never take pride in my possessions, no one will.

If I don't learn to take care of myself, no one will.

If I don't keep my head up amidst the throng, no one will.

If I don't stick to my guns, my principles, no one will.

If I never give myself the chance -

To give it the first try
To make my own mistakes
To lose it all
To bleed
To bind my wounds
To express what I feel to be right and true
To test the sincerity of my being
To examine the rationale of my thoughts
To explore every thought that racks my brain
To scrutinize all that I do and want to believe
To listen to my own voice
To find the meaning behind the beating of my heart -

No one will.

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All my days

"You have ordained all my days, Lord. You know each moment before it comes to pass."

It was simple faith that I needed in the past few weeks. His promise that I relied on to get me through when I had done all that I could do. We survived, but not without a few bruises, not without a large dose of hurt, not without a real need to learn how to "love my enemies" on my part. By His grace alone we survived.

But it's not only in the daily grind, Lord, is it, where Your words ring true? Your promise is for all our days.

It takes much for a go-getter to sit back and let Him take control.
It takes a conscious will to stop being stubborn, and instead be still.

Then the other extreme sometimes convinces you that no one cares after all.
Striking in the deepest darkness; often no more than a small thought.
That gradually builds up to form a seemingly-unshakeable belief.

Leaning too much on either scale is destructive.

I can't find the middle ground sometimes.

But on days like this, when I realize that I'm nothing more than a speck of dust, yet lovingly created, cared for and rescued by my Heavenly Father, it slowly dawns on me that I need not worry about how my life turns out; but can trust Him with all my heart.

For all my worries - Will I get me own place soon? Replace my old possessions? Will I end up needy eventually? Reduced to the typical stereotype? Will I ever learn to be more emotionally-balanced? Plain dull? Will I be happy? Fulfilled? - this is my answer:

"You have ordained all my days, Lord. You know each moment before it comes to pass. Help me be still, and know You are God."

Amen.

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Thoughts on Malaysia's 52nd Birthday

"1Malaysia".

Great tagline, that. Straight to the point. Catchy. Even without the (obligatory) songs and advertisements and other what-have-yous that the PR campaign has successfully churned out. (On a side note, I seemed to have missed Petronas' advertisement this year. I strained to look for it on tv and in the papers - even their website! - but came up empty. What's the story?)

Anyway back to 1Malaysia.

Oh, great concept too. All peoples moving as one in our single-mindedness towards building this nation. Semuanya bertekad terhadap satu objektif: Memajukan negara dengan memajukan setiap insan yang berwarganegara Malaysia - tak kira bangsa, agama, dan sebagainya.

That's my take on 1Malaysia.

That's just the problem.

I'd have no problems grasping it if I actually saw it being implemented. We can't move on towards realizing 1Malaysia if political parties continually harp on racial differences and highlight them as faults. The recent by-elections in Permatang Pasir was openly described as one where racial cards were dealt. Have we not learnt?

We can't progress if we insist on "maintaining our standards by our own yardstick" by lowering the standards or flip-flopping on education policies as and when it suits our statistics and short-term agendas. Singaporean papers (and I bet other countries too) attributed the flip-flop stance to one of our Government's usual practices. Have we not learnt?

We can't progress if time and time again, it's NOT the best, most capable, and most reliable providers that are selected to undertake national projects. Okay, not all providers are sucky - MYEG has got a great service going on and I hope they expand their scope - but honestly, the success stories are few, far, and in between many, MANY failures. (Don't give me the "5% entrepreneurs make it" line - you know very well what I'm trying to get at. )

We just can't progress if we do not learn that excellence is achieved through sheer hard work, the act of constantly proving ourselves, and the art of appreciating and building each other up on the pretext of mutual benefit and advancement for a common, greater good.

Anything less, and we sell ourselves short on what we are capable of achieving.

I'll admit - I scoffed when I read that the PM called on us to "repair bridges"- excuse me, we didn't build them. The policies did. I'll say too, that it probably wasn't his fault in entirety. The whole system has been there all along, enhanced and modified to perfection... and it's hard to pass on a well-oiled machine so entrenched in its functions.

It's hard not to be jaded and think that it's never gonna change.

What would Yasmin Ahmad have conjured?

Tragically, would it have remained just that - a mere concept, beautiful and admired, but never quite allowed to be fully implemented and realized?

That's not the 1Malaysia I seek, long and pray for. God, we need You more than ever.

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"You're the maddest person in this room"

The room suddenly fell silent.
My heart went still.
Surely I misheard him?
Someone mumbled, "Huh?"

Quite deliberately, yet in a slightly-offhandish way, he said:

"I think you're the maddest person in this group. The most art-bent. The world needs eccentrics every now and then."

"What gave me away?" I asked, unsure how best to respond.

He shrugged. "I don't know. A twitch, perhaps."

-- Look, had that comment come from a totally-ordinary person on the street, I'd have immediately noticed the slight sneer in that tone, or the wrinkled-nose of disgust that usually accompanies such a statement. Heck such labels are not new to me.

But to have elicited that comment from a total stranger who happened to be a brilliant musician - the multi-talented type who plays the five-string double bass, mandolin, piano, piano-accordion and guitar, the type who makes every instrument he picks up SING - ....

I actually felt liberated.

I felt a glow deep within me.

SO.

I'm a certifed mad, weird, and eccentric person.

I have a right to keel towards the arts and love the music I make and hear; to do whatever it takes to express that which I feel inside - be it laugh, dance, or cry.

I'm mad, and proud of it =)

p.s. - Lord, how would You use this mad person?
p.p.s. - Thank you Rod Gear :) You made my weekend. http://www.sonsofkorah.com/

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Constant Infighting

To whine or just pipe down?
To appear strong or be vulnerable?
To attempt to do it all and fail; or do little and excel?
To focus on single-handedly finishing the task on schedule,
Or take time to get the entire team involved?

To portray confidence and determination,
Or speak only in terms of "doing my best"?
To be gung-ho and independent,
Or be a feminine damsel in need of aid?

To speak loudly of the true values I hold,
Or be silent for fear of ridicule?
To tell of what I really feel inside,
Or continue my needless tirade?

In all my contradictions, I am but human too.

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Quoting Ahmad Izham Omar, CEO of 8tv

Have always admired the young, dashing musician-turned-CEO who helms 8tv, and this piece echoes my thoughts....

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Embraceable You (2009)
by Ahmad Izham Omar
Jul 16, 2009 at 06:20 PM

I was driving back late one night. It was a nice and lonely drive, you know, the one where you are totally alone with your thoughts, lost to music in the background while the pulse of the city streets and flickering neon lights dance before you in the treasured sanctuary of your car.

The music in my car never fails to surprise me, and this is probably due to my iPod being set to randomly play any song from my nearly 11,000-strong song library (ahem).

So it was the nicest of feelings, as I was driving that night, when the familiar strings and brass of a majestic Nelson Riddle arrangement swept into the car and Frank Sinatra started singing “Embrace me…my sweet embraceable you….”.

I openly let the lush beauty of a Sinatra classic totally engulf me, feeding all my senses, his inimitable voice resonating deep into my consciousness and giving that journey home a magical elevation.

As the strings soared and Sinatra reached the top of his vocal range, my thoughts began floating, transcending into the distant darkness of the Ampang hills, the world swishing by me in a blur of buildings, cars and toll plazas, sparking in me a curious thought about songwriting and how it related with the song title Embraceable You.

It should come to no surprise that the most beautiful works of art come from the deepest of experiences. The Taj Mahal was created from deep and blinding love, Beethoven composed some of his best work under the tragic curse of deafness, Picasso’s Guernica was inspired by the horrifying manslaughter of war, Kurt Cobain screamed out his despair about selling out to success in Smells Like Teen Spirit and we could only imagine the ache in Eric Clapton when he wrote Tears In Heaven for his dead son.

Take a while and think of your all-time favourite songs. In most cases, the songs made you feel a depth of emotion rarely felt in everyday life (yes, maybe even Ice Ice Baby from Vanilla Ice for some of you).

And in most cases, the reason the song made you feel those deep emotions is because the songwriter too dug deep into his or her emotions. The result is magic; an unseen but powerful connection between strangers, tied together by their own personal feelings.

The filmmaker Yasmin Ahmad once said, “To touch the hearts of people deeply, you first have to touch your own heart deeply”.

I thoroughly agree. We need to dig deep inside ourselves, go through our deepest emotions, and explore the ironies and complexities that make us human to be able to produce meaningful works of art.

Hence the problem. As a rule, we Malaysians don’t really get over-emotional.

Maybe it’s because we always try to “control handsome”. We rarely let our guard down because it’s “frowned upon”. I’ve been getting the heat too about ever letting any of our reality contestants hug on stage.

But what is all this hoo-ha about?

I think giving your all and yes, letting your feelings get in the way are the basic ingredients of achieving seemingly-impossible things. Put everything into it, man, and miracles usually happen. People who have done seemingly-incredible feats all seem to have this characteristic trait of “wearing your heart on your sleeve”: Steve Jobs, Walt Disney, Tun Mahathir, even Osama.

If you are creating something in a factory-assembled manner with all precision but no heart, then the resulting work would be easily forgettable. Yes, this applies to non-music creations as well. Heck, it even applies if you sell goreng pisang.

Wouldn’t it be great if everyone put their entire heart and soul into everything they do? Wouldn’t it be great if they were not afraid to get their hearts into the line of fire even when they know there is the risk of getting hurt? Wouldn’t it be great that nobody does things because of routine or “it’s a job” but instead put everything into it? Even activities like picking up the kids at school?

Confucius said it best with this line: “Wherever you go, go with all your heart”. Apply that to music and I really believe our music will reach soaring new heights. Apply it to life, and suddenly life is worth living.

I sat there in the darkness as my car purred itself to a stop in my driveway. With Frank Sinatra’s voice sublimely trailing away into a fade, I smiled at the irony of it all.

We sing about embracing, about loving with all of our hearts and about feeling the deepest love.

Maybe one day we can really live it.

URL: http://www.8tv.com.my/Fan8tics/Fan8ticsCEOBlog.aspx?Mode=detail&EntryID=272&BloggerID=8

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Finding my footing

Isn't it amazing that you still find yourself standing upright when inside you're just crumbling all over?

Ain't it weird how you still find the strength to run and get things done even if you thought you had no energy left to lift your arms, much less take another step?

What pushes you, really?

Desperation to prove a point? Helplessness over the situation? Need for (over)achievement?

Thing is - at some juncture we're bound to tire of it, right? Begin thinking that there's gotta be more to life than this?

Sigh. I don't want to come to the realization one day that all I've done / am doing is not worth it. Sometimes I need to know that there is such a thing as balance; that it isn't a sin to sit down and watch the world go by; that I don't have to be the one running the rat race all the time.

I need to find my footing. I hope I find it before I fall flat on my face.

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Here one day, gone one night...

Guess the "emo season" just HAD to roll around when Michael Jackson's memorial service came to town. I found myself waiting for 1 a.m. to arrive, and had time to surf 3 different channels before settling on one to watch the entire service from. (CNN won.)

I was dry-eyed when I saw with my own eyes the casket bearing the body, draped in red roses. Any pretense of his being alive, or more like, "re-lived", flew out the window when you realize that he really was gone. I was calm.

Until the camera panned across to the other Jackson brothers and I caught a glimpse of the single sequined glove they each wore, in his honour.

Then Jermaine sang "Smile" while fighting back his tears.

And if that wasn't enough, Usher did a totally heartfelt, gut-wrenching rendition of "Gone Too Soon" while walking to the casket, and in doing so, struggled to finish the song... one so aptly, hauntingly, written for a HIV-AIDS victim, and now sung for his own goodbye. I still cannot watch the performance without tears streaming down my face.

I didn't expect to cry during the memorial. To see the pain that his family and close friends were going through in this phase of separation, to know that he made the impact he did... it makes you weep at the loss of such a beautiful soul on this side of heaven.

And yet, the entire service also made me smile, it did. It made me beam because people recalled his fun-loving streak, and his love to make people laugh.

What struck me most was that everyone agreed, Michael Jackson truly gave his best. In everything: song, dance, community care. He gave his best.

Not just money, mind you, but more importantly his time with the poor, the needy. He used his position to take time to be with the policy-makers to help change the world. He started with the man in the mirror, and didn't stop there - he tried to get us all into it too, to care for one another, to love a fellow brother and sister.

Eulogizers hoped and prayed and believed that MJ would be in heaven. We pray too that God will have mercy on his soul.

I'm inspired by his life. Not only because he was a pioneer ahead of his time, a tireless entertainer, a fun-loving character. Not only because he was a great humanitarian, the Guinness record-holder for being the "pop star supporting the most number of charitable organizations."

I'm inspired by the simple fact that he simply did his best. You have fought the good fight, MJ. Rest in peace, and may you find eternal delight and joy in your Creator.

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There'll only be one King of Pop

Yeah he was weird.

And quirky.

And unsure of himself sometimes.

So yeah he was not everyone's cup of tea.

Critics denounced his lyrics, his dance moves, his everything.

But no one can deny that there was no other musician and entertainer as great, talented, and genuine as Michael Jackson. We all know he was thrust into the limelight since he was 11 years old - forced to mature at a tender age. It's uncanny, somehow, that as he grew older, he also became more childlike in demeanour.

Therein belied his tendency to make himself vulnerable to the world through his songs. He was unafraid to express everything he felt: joy, sorrow, hurt, anger. This was a guy that embraced the breadth of his emotions, and gave each of them a voice; it was a "take-it-or-leave-it, it's-all-me" act everytime. He gave his best in every instance - it showed in every concert, every music video.

Amidst all the groundbreaking dance moves, the high-pitched "hee-hee" and other mannerisms, I admire Michael Jackson most because he dared to bare his soul to us all. At the end of the day, like everyone else, he just wanted to be loved for everything that he was. The outpouring of love at his death from fans worldwide more than encapsulates the extent to which he impacted the people with his songs.

It takes a truly brave person to show his strengths and weaknesses, and beg to be loved for who he is. The one who loves is surely loved in return. We will always remember you, Michael. Thank you for your gift, for who you are.

In my darkest hour

In my deepest despair

Will you still care

Will you be there

In my trials

And tribulations

There are doubts

And frustrations

In my violence

And the turbulence

To my fear, and my confessions

In my anguish and my pain

To my joy and my sorrow

In the promise of another tomorrow

I'll never let you part

for you are always in my heart

~~ "Will You Be There," Michael Jackson, 2006

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Fly high, you

Hey kiddo,


What a journey! To see you grow up and mature in the past few years has been such a joy! To be alongside you and see your various talents bloom... to watch you navigate the meandering paths of life... to sit and talk to you and realize that there's so much more to you than meets the eye... Everything about you has been a joy!


I count it a privilege to share in your life, to know you the way I have in recent years; you're such a blessing to so many of us.


Am glad that you're on your way into writing another chapter in your life... You have so much potential to reach greater heights (pun intended)... I realize that this too could be a step towards greater self-discovery... and I pray that you will know, deep down, just how unique you are in our eyes, in God's eyes.


We want nothing more than for you to attain the highest peaks you possibly can, to stretch your talents to the limit, to be happy. We pray for nothing more than for you to walk in His footsteps, to hear His heartbeat, to find your peace in His arms.


Take care kiddo. Will see you very soon.



~ J/Jie

p.s. - The pix is not out of place, I didn't realize you were waving til a few moments ago...

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Give the small ones a chance

Small kids.
Small ideas.
Small companies.

They all deserve a chance too. They wanna grow too; and they can't do it alone.

I recall very vividly a relative that practically wrinkled her nose and said to me, "You always have a knack for finding these small companies, don't you?" (She probably doesn't remember that remark now, but help me, I still do, after all these years.)

Yes, even I've heard it all before - big companies mean greater stability, greater perks, greater this and that. Fair enough, I say, they have deep coffers to pick out and dole out goodies from.

But even big companies today started small, didn't they? I mean, logically...

I've worked in small-medium enterprises for the most part of my 8-year work stint thus far. Both shed light on the do's and don'ts of business dealings; I may not have seen it all, but I think I've gleaned some insights in various things - dealing with nice/difficult clients, competent/lousy suppliers, helpful/bribeworthy officials, inculcating teamwork, facing-off competition, (and being COPIED by them!), crossing hurdles, facing stumbling blocks, strategizing furiously, hitting back, emerging victorious.

I guess I'm also blessed to be working with a superior who recognizes work and rewards accordingly. That has made everything quite bearable; even the most stressful periods.

I wish I could tell the graduates and would-be graduates that working for the SMEs can be rewarding too. That the end-to-end experience really does give you that bird's eye-view of things. That some places DO match (or pay higher) than the MNC equivalent. That by being part of a SME, you are in position to play a pivotal role in its journey to become the market leader, the regional player.

Give it a chance, will ya? It's not all that bad.

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I've survived!

Yes, Jules has survived another season of 'giving birth' to my Annual Report babies - the weeks of poring over every minute (and I really mean minute) detail, making almost non-stop phone calls to designers, going for client meetings ready to defend the placement of every word and graphic... hounding the delivery guys when they fail to arrive before the 5pm deadline, trying to pacify the client, keeping my frustration in check when the books arrive 2 hours after the promised time....

Gosh. Put it that way, I wonder how I've done it thus far.

With God's help I'm sure.

More than once this season I had to commit my day to the Lord the moment I woke up, because only He could work things out for me. I had to pray for Him to allow me to rest fitfully and without any nightmares so that I'd be alert the next morning. I had to say out loud, "Lord I need a breakthough," when the doors slammed in my face. On many occasions I refused to give in to panic although I was buckling under the load. This season was really tough; really really tough.

In many ways these seasons teach us a lesson about our limits - when to stop, when to give in, and when to look up. My mistake is that I always think I can do it - when I put my mind to it. These seasons taunt me - can you really?

Then my answer comes, in the final moments just before I drift off to sleep - the realization that God has enabled me to accomplish the things I did, and the reality of His control in each day. I was - I am - grateful to be able to call upon a living God for breakthrough. I called, and He answered me.

My smile in early June is oft one of immense relief, and more importantly, of joy. Thank You God for being my reason.

=)

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Adam Sandler thought me some things

Who could imagine I'd cry in an Adam Sandler movie?

Well I did.

Twice.

I'll just mention one here - the relatively-unknown "Reign Over Me" that starred Sandler and Don Cheadle. I'd not read the reviews, so I'd no expectations whatsoever of it. I expected a funny movie - just the thing to destress me, rather than distress.

Synopsis went along the lines of how Adam had lost his family in the 9-11 incident and was in denial mode on it - refusing to talk about his grief but showing nonchalance in its place. It seemed heartless, uncouth, cold somehow... so his best friend Don tries to get him to come to terms with the harsh reality.

It wasn't a funny movie.

Later, we discovered why Adam refused to talk about his loss. And it was because he didn't want to face his regret - that his last words to his late wife weren't kind, and that he had no way to take them back.

That stunned me. Shook me to the core.

On that day, before I came home, I'd fought with a friend. Had said some harsh words and we both went back angry.

If either one of us had been taken away that day, what would our last words have been?

Since that day, I've resolved not to go to bed angry; to do whatever it takes to end the day well. I've tried to take every opportunity to remind the people around me how much they mean to me, how much I appreciate their being in my life.

Today is one of those days.

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Huh?

Pulled double-duty on keyboard and vocals for the TeenStreet 9-to-9.

I'm overwhelmed how everything came together beautifully.

I beam, even now, recalling how each band member had a smile on their faces even whilst playing the instruments or singing their hearts out. So much joy that radiated from within.

So beautiful.

Just before our group shot (photograph, not injection), one of them came over and said, "Nice pipes you've got there."

Huh?

No I didn't play any pipes on the keyboard this time.

He takes in my quizzical expression and touches my throat, repeating, "Nice pipes."

Oh. *Hehe*

"Praise God," I say. And I mean it. Praise Him who enables me to do these things to bless His people, and glorify Him.

Indeed, Lord, everything is from You. All the praise goes out to You.

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Enough with the Emo already!

Got "swiped" the other day by a well-meaning friend that my blog was dead. It's one part choice, and the other part circumstance... On one hand the ballooning work pile meant that I was getting less free time to spend on myself; and at the opposite end, I HAD things to blog about, but decided not to, for fear of exposing too much to the online community.

I read my recent posts, and kinda got worried myself. Gosh, why so emo? Awhile filled with hatred, awhile reaching out, awhile consumed with deep sadness. Whoa.

But that's me, I guess. No apologies for that, in a way. You bleed to know you're alive; you justify the presence and expression of extreme emotions by saying you still have a conscience and are not robbed of the capacity to feel, not numbed by the depression of this world.

oh no there i go again....

In 2 hours, the TeenStreet Band will have a reunion at the TeenStreet 9-to-9... We did the soundcheck last night and it just brought me back to December last year when we led the teens into the Throne Room, where the teamwork just awesome, the atmosphere of the nightly gigs extremely electric, the presence of God completely overwhelming.

Yes, I'm the oldest and the only female musician in the band, and sometimes I feel really old next to them young ones. (Unfortunately that's what work does to even the strongest of us.)

But the stage is a great equalizer (as Ian would put it) - and when we're there, playing our hearts out, giving our best to the One who deserves our all... all feelings of inadequacy vanish, all traces of fatigue ebb away, to be replaced by the sheer joy of coming together to worship Him and give Him the loudest praise we possibly can; to glorify the King who has come to take our burdens and cleanse our sins, the Saviour that grants us hope for eternity, the true GOD who was, who is, and is to come.

I look at the young musicians with pride, amazed by their ability, grateful for the way that they have grown up and living now. I respect each one tremendously, and pray that each will find his joy within His will.

One and a half hours to go. Can't wait! =)

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Been too long

7 years is a long time to carry a piece of someone with you.
We've moved on, but...

Some dates stick in your mind, you know? Like his birthday.
So I did what I usually do each year - send a chirpy sms!
The reply was cordial. A simple thank you, and a smile.
I smiled. Didn't expect anything much.

Didn't expect the slight pang in my heart.
Of what?
I've no idea.

Some loves you don't profess... but it don't mean they're not there anymore.
When someone fills your heart-space just that much, maybe we never quite get over it.
I can't get over how my heart remembers the memories of 7 years ago, even when I've pushed them at the back of my mind.

I don't want those days back again - we've all grown up and got on with our lives.
Neither do I want to begin living a life of regret.

In everything I face, I will always want to make the best of it.
In everything I experience, I will always remember.
In everyone I've loved... *speechless*

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heart-full

Am lookin' out for you.

If you think no one cares, think again.

You can deny the pain, but I see it. I sense it.

I'll reach out, hoping that you will take my hand.

Allow me into your heart, your mind, your life.

Salve the hurt you go through.

Sit with you. Cry with you.

'Til I see that smile again.

It's not so much about me.

It's just caring.

Life is harsh already, we need each other.

That one person that's safe to run to.

We all need someone like that.

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Hate Me

Hate the evil nature within me that makes me an unreasonable, impossible woman.
Hate the uncontrollable rage that rushes, unbridled, to make my hands and mouth react before my brain registers the actions.
Hate the piercing stares that hunt down the people who have wronged me, when the problem, really, is me.

I don't want to let it control me.
I don't want to let it hurt the people around me; people I respect.
I don't want to let it ruin me.

I try, but it's never good enough.
Feeble efforts to stave off a great tsunami.
Laughable, really; but I have to keep trying.

Gouge out my rage, that I may never again bring ruin.
My mouth, that it may never again utter unkindness.
My eyes, that I may never see you walking away.

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For the record

I never want to live a life not loving anyone.

I just want to ensure that the people I do cherish it. I just want to make it - my life, my love - count.

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CNY and Childhood Memories

A conversation with a friend triggered some childhood memories of family reunions...

The JB-based See cousins were closest to us growing up - we were of similar ages and enjoyed the same things: playing the piano, reading, singing. There were 3 of them and 2 of us, and whenever the families went out to dinner, we always asked to sit together (we were so small then) - if we were in their car, their mum would put on the Sunday School songs in the yellow cassette tape and we'd squeal in delight doing the actions!! We'd try out singing in harmony too - that's what probably got us the nickname the Von Trapp cousins...

At one time we all dragged our mattresses and slept in the hallway and we chatted till the early hours... I had no idea what we talked about, though - were there that many interesting topics in those days?

Anyway, we always had so much fun together, and the day that they were leaving for home always came too soon. They'd usually head home in the early evening, and we'll be playing till the very last minute. There was always a going-home ritual for them:

Our mothers would walk out the door after countless reminders not to leave anything, and when that was done, they'd launch into a rendition of, "Esso baik (6x), chia eng Esso piao! Bye-bye, mai kong liao!" This was the jingle for the Esso television commercial in THEIR childhood, which can be loosely translated into "Esso is good fuel, cars should use Esso brand". The "bye-bye" part was their own addition to rhyme and signal the end of the farewell. But inevitably they'd start again, "Esso baik, Esso baik..."

Then the 3 See children would heap into the car, and my sister and I would be waving and yelling at them to be in touch, write soon, study hard, and be good. And as their dad drove away (rather slowly, I suspect, for our benefit), the 3 kids would climb onto the back seat and wave frantically while we did the same, inching closer and closer to the middle of the road. You could see our mouths going "Bye-bye, bye bye!" Sometimes the older one would wind down the window and stick her hand out and wave manically, and we responded with even faster waves, jumping up and down on the road. That was always the last move - and as the car turned the corner, they were gone.

We heard the silence that followed very keenly; the silence that meant that they were on their way home and all was back to normal. It was hard not to be sad, especially when we had created memories that would be tucked into our hearts and minds in the years to come.

Every once in a while, they'd discover that they forgot something, and would turn back. Oh how our faces lit up at the quick reunion! Then the chant would start again... "Esso baik, Esso baik..."

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* Disclaimer: No, I wasn't paid to pull a free plug for Esso, but hey, that jingle forms a part of my childhood memories. No offense meant to Shell fans and employees!

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Open Letter (Part III)

Attn: Ex-Junior.

We brought you in because you were recommended to us by a friend. Your background seemed so “cham” (sorry) because your father had passed away and you had to get a job quite quickly after completing your tertiary education to help support your mother. Plus you were an intern with a reputable newspaper so writing was not a problem with you.

You seemed like an all-rounder: being active in outdoor sports, and extra-curricular activities, including organizing college events and such. It didn’t hurt that you knew how to present yourself well. You seemed like a good fit. I still recall that my boss was PERPETUALLY smiling throughout the interview. “Wow,” I thought, “this candidate really impressed him. She MUST be quite good.”

So you came in. I was pleased to have an able person to help.

You said you were keen to learn, and so we allocated jobs accordingly: let you meet the clients from the first day, brought you up to scale on the various materials we had to prepare, and taught you the delicate nuances in managing and advising clients. We even let you take charge of a new client – while always being by your side in your on-the-job training. We knew that you were lacking in some hard skills (as I was when I came in), so we encouraged you to read some of the books that would help you progress.

Then it seemed like your keenness disappeared, your energy dissipated. I don’t know when it started. Suddenly we realized that you were more lacklustre, nonchalant, not bothered. And whenever we walked past your computer screen we’d see you chatting on your IM and logged on to your facebook. I mean, if you had nothing to deliver – fine, goof around. But if we were expecting some things, it was rather surprising, to say the least.

Where did we go wrong? Did we exclude you? Did we leave you in the lurch? Did we expect too much of you? Were we too detailed and critical in reviewing work? (We can’t help that, you have seen how fussy some clients can be! And we position ourselves as market leader so all of us HAVE to deliver!)

You are part of this team, and you have a part to play in determining the atmosphere in this place. If this is a horrible place to work in, ASK YOURSELF WHY.

Your acute and consistent rudeness whenever we spoke to you because such a bane to us; so much so that we felt so mean for correcting you, but couldn’t live it down if we didn’t correct you. Much worse were those times you just 'zoned out' whenever we tried to involve you in discussions; your demeanour said that all this was worthless, meaningless, boring. We saw you trying to stifle yawns at client meetings.

On the contrary, we noticed that your eyes would light up whenever someone mentioned a new place to eat, or a new movie, or some weekend activity. Nothing wrong with that. I just wish you could demonstrate some degree of enthusiasm where work was concerned.

Is it not exciting that you have direct access to the CEOs, MDs and top management of public-listed companies to give counsel on their business strategies? Don’t you find it thrilling that the work you do literally places words in the mouths of decision-makers and has the power to shape public perceptions? Haven’t you found out that it is quite satisfying to have your client and boss commend you for jobs well done?

Look, I don’t expect you to be a workaholic like me. But at least we expect you to take pride in your work and pursue excellence so that the company is synonymous with positive reputation. And your efforts will pay off, believe you me. Things DO look different when you strive to do your best.

We don’t expect you to be perfect and know everything. No one is. But in the event that you don’t know, you have to ASK. As much as we have tried to help you along, in many cases you refused to help yourself by choosing to keep quiet whenever you didn’t understand, or be defensive when we asked you the rationale of certain things. We were here to help as friends. You treated us like the enemy. It was very hard-going for us.

I hope you realize that you are at the losing end. You will never improve if you don’t take on jobs that are too big for you and fit yourself to them. You are only 21, for goodness sake, it’s the best time for you to learn and make mistakes. But no. you wanted to show everyone you knew everything. Your own self-pride let you down.

Personally, I’m not angry that you chose to quit. I am more DISAPPOINTED that a person who had so much potential decided that it was enough just to “get by” with shoddy work and still expect to earn top dollar. Haven’t you figured out by now that even a homemaker works hard at her vocation?

I am so disappointed in you that I really am not sorry to see you leave. I just wish you knew where you’d gone wrong and be a better person.

SIGH.

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