As I am sitting in the library here, I see three books on my table. They are: aircraft performance and design; synthesis of subsonic airplane design and aircraft design: a conceptual approach. You get the drift I suppose. I’m currently in a group project design for an aircraft. As I am attend my lectures for this course, my lecturer never failed to raise (or scream) the points that a) we would most likely all end up working at McDonalds because we are so incompetent and useless and b) we need to realise how important is it for us to be thorough and responsible with the engineering work that we will do in the future.

I’ve had this lecturer since last year so I have expected this from him every time and I always know that he means well. Deep down, he’s a really good man with extreme dedication and passion to the aviation industry. He puts on the tough act and look because it is and it will always be necessary. As a budding engineer, the chances of me being in a design team for a whole aircraft are slim because most engineers do analytical work on the side and design small parts of the aircraft. That’s just how it is but regardless of whether we are designing a screw or in charge of the whole aircraft, we will then do well to remember what my lecturer said, “We are responsible for human lives.”

I know I have written a few posts regarding aircraft incidents, primarily being ‘Fight or Flight‘ and ‘Cable Car‘. Without realising, I expressed two separate emotions in them with one being hope and the other being faith. Natural progression says I should talk about love in this one but how can I still talk about love when details from the Germanwings crash investigations states that the pilot is responsible for bringing the aircraft down and that he was mentally ill. My friend went on to say, “Humans are evil, eh?”. How can I sit here and write about faith and hope in humanity when a man brought down 149 people with him deliberately? I talked about still having hope regardless of what happens and that I will always have faith in humanity but I wasn’t the passenger on board. I am not the one who has family on board. How can say these things when I haven’t the slightest idea of what they are going through? It saddens me.

When I was in Foundation Studies, i.e. the year before I entered university, one of my tutors asked me, “What do you plan to study?”. I replied, “You are going to think I’m weird but I planned to to study aerospace engineering and science majoring in psychology.” He then said, “Well that is rather unique and unusual but you know what’s the common element in that?” I asked, “What?” He responded, “Humans.”

I took it at surface then and didn’t think about it too much but he is right. The common element between psychology and engineering is indeed, humans. In fact, it’s the common element of everything. In a machine driven and autonomous era, humans are still the root of everything. Air crashes still happen primarily because of human error. We can never ever escape from that. Even if it is a UAV (unmanned aerial vehicle), the people who designed and build it are humans.

You might be wondering, “Why are you still writing about this? There have been so many aircraft accidents and yet you are still writing about this.” A friend in Darwin was listening in on the radio station. When the news of the crash broke out, the broadcaster announced, “Unfortunately I must announce that 2 of the 150 is Australian” and that was the headline they ran with. Do you find that insensitive or it’s alright for an Australian radio company to take interest in their own people first? I then told my friend that news station and radio companies might be desensitized by now after reporting so many cases over so many years. Wouldn’t it be normal to be desensitized?

My lecturer told us the other day, “A lot of aircraft operations are still controlled by pilots and not by a computer system is because of this. If people get short changed by let’s say ten bucks by a human teller accidentally compared to a computer system, they are more likely to sympathize with the human teller and would most likely scream at the machine and be enraged by it. Interesting, isn’t it?”

I am still writing about this because I don’t want to ever get desensitized by this. I don’t want to read news of a car crash in the paper or a fire in a building and think it’s normal and okay. I’m not affected. Everything is good. I don’t want to ever be that! Human lives are lost here! How can we as a human race lose sensitivity on that? Every single human life is important. It doesn’t matter if it’s lost on an aircraft, fire, mugging, cancer and natural circumstances, every single one is important.

Everyday could very well be our last day. If we live our lives to the best of our abilities, then we will have no regrets. If we live our lives remembering to be responsible for people around you, then we will have no regrets. My lecturer won’t realize this but I will remember what he said to me for the rest of my life and live by it. It saddens me that we forget that but I can’t change what some people think.  We can only change ourselves, I can only change myself and that’s as good a start as any.

We must remember that in everything we do. We have to be responsible for ourselves as well as other people. We can never lose sight of that for we are at the root of everything. We connect everything. We are the common element.

I have moved houses a few times in my lifetime and each time that happens, I have a list of things that I must definitely bring over. Overtime, I have forgotten what’s on the list but I know it largely revolves around the electronic gadgetry, stationery and books.  See, I grew up in the era of Gameboys and Playstations but I also had an upgrade every now and then. So, I had the Gameboy Color initially and eventually, I now own the Playstation Vita as a portable gaming console. So, my electronic gadgetry changed constantly. There wasn’t a permanent usage of a particular console.  It was probably the same for books as well. I wouldn’t have a specific book that I must keep or bring. It’s not that I’m not sentimental or anything but as long as I know where they are in the storeroom, then there’s no need to bring them with me wherever I go whether it’s in the same country or in another continent.

However, there was always one thing that I would bring. It was my Sony Discman (a portable compact disc player), that is until now, I had left my Discman at my sister’s place and chose not to carry it with me as I moved out and stayed with my friend. I owned it since the age of 9 and had always used it regardless of the iPods that I owned. I would always put a CD in there, plugged my headphones in, sat back and just listened to what the CD has to offer.

People reading this must be wondering, “What decade do you live in again? Is it the SIXTIES?” Well, the Discman doesn’t date back that long. It was probably in the late 90s that it took off. I remembered telling my father recently and told him that I wanted to go to a Sony shop and asked if they still have the Discmans and then buy one. He looked at me, almost as if to say, “Are you serious?” I guess that’s a fair question but then again, a large of part of me love to romanticize and treasure the value of sentimentality.

My friends know that I listen to music constantly. In fact, as I am writing this, I am listening to one of Westlife’s first album on my iPod. I recently took up the guitar and also trying to learn how to play by hearing the rhythm in the songs as well. So, I really do enjoy listening to various kinds of music so I adapt to whatever platform that music is being released on and listen to it on them. From CD to iTunes to Spotify, I have tried all of them. My Spotify probably has over 2500 songs somewhere in there.

Don’t get me wrong. Thank goodness Spotify was created and now, I get to discover so much new music but something is missing, I feel. Gone were the days I go to the store, look through the CDs that are available, see what’s intriguing, buy it, go home, read the album booklet, put it into my Discman and be surprised by it. Times have changed. Everything now is instantaneous. If you don’t like something, skip it. If you want something, just download it the next second. Everything just flies by in seconds. There’s no wait, no anticipation, no human touch and no deeper appreciation of the tremendous work the artist puts into her or his work.

Colin Hanks, gave an interview on Jimmy Kimmel and talked about the evolution and also downfall of Tower Records, one of the biggest record selling store of all time. He did a documentary around it and said that, at the end of the day, this documentary is not about the music industry but rather it’s about the human story. It’s about how a family came together to sell records and had fun doing it. I find it absolutely interesting and also contemplated on my own way of listening to music. Of course, that translates into reading books as well as playing games.

We go out into restaurants and what do we see? There will be kids playing games on the tablets and just not talk to other kids. Instead, they will just concentrate on their screens. Board games like Monopoly, Uno and Battleship were created as physical products but instead has now gone onto the digital platform too. On trains, people take out their Kindles and read their books, swiping page after page and that’s just it, isn’t it? Will we ever return to the world where we touch and grab onto the experience of papyrus and CD albums or even play Monopoly on a board whilst rolling the physical dice?

But it comes down to what we want as a generation. Unbelievably, I left my Discman at my sister’s house. This was something I carried with me for 12 years without hesitation. All of a sudden, I decided to not take it with me. Maybe I will grab it another day but for now, it stays there.

I think what’s important is for us to be a little more aware of what we listen, play and read nowadays. We used to have a physical product reminding us of the hard work people put into these things. A record or be it a CD reminds us that music is such a gift. A book as a person once puts it, “A good book will make you want to reread it again, but a great book will make you want to reread your own life.” A simple board game adds meaning and joy to the interaction between children.

We need to remember this even though now they have gone digital. We need to remember the human touch. Think of the last time you picked up a CD. When was the last time you entered a record store? How did it feel like?

Yes, things are now “untouchable” and “unfeelable” but at the end of the day, it’s not about what it is but rather, it’s about the human story.

So I was doing some work for this society I’m in and I was trying to find inspiration and come up with a topic for the students to discuss about. Then, I remembered this email that was sent to me months ago. I pulled it up from my inbox and read it. I couldn’t believe I didn’t read it before because it was truly amazing.

One of the lines read,

“When two people relate to each other authentically and humanly, God is the electricity that surges between them.”  Martin Buber

I truly find that not just amazing but yet profound. It doesn’t matter if you believe in God or not. It doesn’t matter if you are a Catholic or not. I think we all have those moments while we are are conversing with people, you feel that somehow, the conversation feels different. Somehow, it’s enlightening but also heart warming. Call it a God connection, a spiritual connection, serendipity or the human connection but undeniably, it’s something special.

I think it’s truly amazing when you talk to someone who also wants to talk to you. You put aside the selfish desires. You put aside things you want people to do. You put aside your past conflicts. You put aside the misunderstandings. At that moment in time, you come to the person as you are. Who are we, you ask? We are humans. We are all different and unique in our own way.

“Every person born into the world represents something new, something that never existed before, something original and unique….If there had been someone like her in the world, there would have been no need for her to be born.” Martin Buber

Don’t you just find that amazing, eloquent and profound? I truly do. Think about it. If there had been someone like you in this world, why are you born? You can say, “Well, there are plenty of terrible people in this world.” but I would think you are missing the point. We are all in this world to do special things and be great beings but we ignored that calling and ended up on the path other than the straight and narrow.

I forget sometimes when I talk to someone and that he or she is special. I just forget and talk to him as if I’m forced and just trying to get by the day but it’s already a gift to be able to talk and express oneself. On top of that, we are able to talk to people! We can talk to others!

It doesn’t matter where you come from, what background you have or what family history was written in your past, as long as you are honest, sincere and kind to people regardless whether they are doing the same thing, they can certainly feel it. And maybe one day, they will also be the same way when they talked to you as well. Then, you will feel that special surge of electricity again.

For far too often, we only think about ourselves and the world revolves around us when talking to others but have we stopped to ask, “Wouldn’t it be really sad if I am the only one in this world?”

So, how are you recently? Has it been stressful? Has it been tiring? Do you feel the weight of the world is bearing upon your shoulders? Do you feel troubled by relationships? Has studies been overwhelming? Do you feel you just don’t have any energy left? Have you reached the breaking point?

Well, that’s a lot of questions ain’t it. I think a lot of us has reached one of those points in our lives, haven’t we? The whole world seems to be falling apart around you and you are left standing on the tipping point on the mountain. It’s not a pretty sight when everything you hold dear near to you seems to slip away.

I remembered the times I had those moments. It hurts so much that I just feel like crying and just let go. Three years ago, it got so bad that I messaged my dad about it. Well, that was a first. I have never told my father about my troubles and worries and for me to do that, something has to be really wrong. These days, I’m much better now as I have gotten used to the hectic times and business that is ultimately balancing between sleep, social and university life. Of course in the midst of all that, you deal with emotions of relationships within friends and family. But one has to ask, what do you do when you reach the point where stress now has engulf you in flames instead of pushing you to do better in life?

You close you eyes.

You breathe.

Remember that you are, alive.

You rest.

Don’t look at the crumbling world around you but look at yourself.

I think we all have things to very much be thankful for in life. There’s plenty we don’t realise we have. A house to live in. A chance at education. A future. Food. Water. Friends. Family. Of courses, if you believe, you have God too. What’s not to like about life? But there’s always the idea that your house is not a home any more. The situation where education is so intense that it doesn’t feel like a gift any more. The current situation is so bleak that the future seems like a dark place. Everyone seems to have food and water so why bother. Friends? Family? Who cares? We all have been in rather unfortunate circumstances.

What we need to do is be honest with ourselves and sometimes it’s a hasher reality than we think it is. We just aren’t equipped enough to deal with stresses on our own. We just aren’t good enough. We like to think that we are capable and we can beat the world at its own game but the truth is you and I aren’t. If we are tired, accept that we are. If we have a breakdown, then we do. There’s nothing wrong with that. We can only get better if we are humble enough to accept that.

Remember this. In the midst of smiles and flowers, we feel happy but it is in pain and sadness that we truly grow. That can be your thought of the day.

You know. I used to be pedantic about things and get overly worried about people. In my head, goes a million thoughts about you should do this, you should do that, don’t do this, maybe see this person. I realised by doing that, I offer no help or whatsoever and I’m being rude myself. I still give advices and push ever so slightly but I also learned that we need to trust people that they can handle things on their own. I trust that you will be able to handle it when it comes down to the breaking point but just know that, if you ever need help, a friend is just a phone call away.

Have a good day wherever you are!

I placed the arrow on the bow. I pulled it back as much as I could. I imagined myself to be Katniss Everdeen or Oliver Green while taking the shot. The arrow flew high and mighty. Yes! Yes, it’s going. The arrow flew and went… to the ground. 

Writing at 2:30 in the morning is always a bad idea but to quote a friend of mine, “People are more prone to opening up others at night time,”, so, there’s that. Anyway, I finished my internship experience yesterday. To be honest, I had no expectations about it when I went for the interview and when I first started. I’ve always imagined myself in a computer room sitting behind the desk. Another scenario would be having small talk with colleagues and having small chuckles. Then, there were so many things happening around me that my mind started to be filled with a thousand things I can write about regarding work but I have actually written none during that period.

Before I go on further, let’s take a look to the past, shall we? I have always figured I wouldn’t have the same perspectives on life had I not grown up in Kuching, a nice little quiet town filled with the nicest people. Compared to Ipoh, my hometown, Kuching is a less busier city and the pace of life is much slower. I moved to Kuching when I was 10 so the time I spent in my hometown was relatively short. I would be so different that I don’t think I will write all these stuff on my blog had I grown in my hometown. Different places, different cultures, different life.

They say a person is made from nature and nurture. I studied that in that one psychology course, which I did pretty reasonably for, might I add. Nature coming from your genetic makeup and nurture coming from your environment. My genetics probably make up a large aspect for what I am but my parents nurtured me a lot too but I don’t see them for half a day when I have school. Hence, a lot of my nurturing then came from my city too.

If I grew up in my hometown, I know I will be a much different person. Firstly, I probably would have asked my childhood crush to be my girlfriend. Secondly, I would have been much more distant from the church. I would probably be much more fluent in Cantonese than I am at the moment.

So, I came back from Sydney to do my internship in Ipoh. This time is different than the usual holidays cause I now have to be in the mix and started to know plenty of different people from different races, cultures and backgrounds. I also have to speak more Malay and Cantonese, which I have barely used in the last decade compared to the English language. I was a fish out of water if you will. It was my second shot at seeing what life in Ipoh would have been like had I grown up there.

During the internship, that image of me sitting behind a desk evaporated quickly. In fact, I did very little of that as I was mostly on site doing hands on work. Although I went to work not having any pre-determined expectations but it’s impossible not to as you hear people complain about work all the time. As an intern, it was part of my role to ask as many questions as I can. With questions then, you start to have conversations.

There might be someone that started a family when he was really young. There might be people who’s trying to feed a family of six. There might be a guy that gave up his dreams to take care of his parents. In a workplace that’s filled with the Malaysian diverse culture and people coming from different education and financial backgrounds, you start to realised how fortunate we are to even be breathing in this world. We complained when the internet stops for 5 seconds and we are constantly feeling the need to look for social gratification through social media but I have seen people who does not care about the Internet and certainly don’t give a damn about social media as the breadwinner’s responsibility was their main priority.

The luxuries, as great an enhancement that is to our life, the truth is life was never about that. We have an image of how we want to live a good life when we start working but a good life is not about a beautiful house and fanciful cars but rather it’s about the relationships you have with people and be content with the blessings God has given you. We always work hard and diligently to advance in our careers but when put into context, no one cares if you are a rocket scientist or a C.E.O of the company, what matters is you striving hard to contribute to society. We should have great careers not because we want great money but rather we want to increase the value of life to yourself and people around you.

That second shot at living in Ipoh? I found out that no matter where I am, the people make the difference. The truth is I would never have any idea about who I would have become had I grown up in my hometown as there’s so many factors involved. It’s ridiculous to assume anything. Put in any situation and in any city, there’s always the good and the bad but what matters is how you perceive yourself in that environment and how open and freely you are to accept others in your life willingly. Then we will learn a thing or two along the way that we will carry with us forever.

I took my bow. I stand back. I relaxed myself. I took everything in. Years have passed since that first shot. I didn’t think of how I look. I let go. Where did it went? It was everything I wanted it to be and much more. 

Last Saturday, I was in church as usual for mass. There was this priest who probably gave one of the most powerful sermons in my life. It won’t do it justice for me to paraphrase what he said but I will try my best to repeat word for word what he said but also shorten it as it was longer than this.

“So, today’s Gospel talks about leprosy. As we all know, leprosy is a skin virulent disease. It spreads to other people by touch. In the Gospel, we hear Jesus touched the man and he was healed. It was a miracle. Now, this brings back memories of me visiting this place that was helping people who were suffering AIDS. I volunteered there every Saturday. So, there was this man. Now, he’s an elderly man who is probably in his sixties and he stays there. For some reason, he never talked to anyone and I tried talking to him too but to no avail. He wouldn’t talk to anyone except for this man named John.

I always wondered why does he only talk to John. Anyway, after a few months of volunteering at the place, he finally talked to me. We had a good chat and I started asking him, “So, how come you only talk to John? Why wouldn’t you talk to the rest of us?”. He then replied, “You all come here to volunteer and put on these fake smiles. You do not realise how hypocritical you are. Because I have AIDS, everyone seems to be afraid of me and when they come near me, they look like they want to avoid me. This John was the same thing as well. One day, I went to the toilet and slipped. John, without hesitation, rushed to me and immediately grabbed hold of me. He held me in his arms and lifted me back up. I then know that John was different and he wasn’t afraid at all of touching me.”

Imagine that. A touch was all it took to change a man’s heart. Just as Jesus touched the leper, John touched the old man’s heart. I actually come here today with a heavy heart. When I come to town, I usually call this good friend of mine. He would pick me up from the train station and would take me around to have the best food in town. So two days before I came to town, I messaged him and told him about it. I was wondering if we could have the same arrangement as before. He didn’t reply. So, I was a bit worried. Maybe he was busy. So, I decided to message him on Facebook. What I saw was heartbreaking. His wall was filled with all these messages saying, “My condolences, what a great man he was.”.

I looked through the wall and kept searching for answers. My own friend. And I didn’t know that he passed away two months ago. I felt very troubled and went to the chapel to pray. I really really wanted to cry but no tears came out. It was almost as if I didn’t know how to cry. And that I had lost that intuition to touch and to feel. I felt really sad.

In this day and age, we have all these wonderful ways of communicating with each other through Whatsapp, Facetime and whatnot but it almost seems we have lost that instinct to express our emotions because we don’t see each other face to face. We have lost that instinct to express ourselves emotionally. That intuition to know something is wrong when you talk to the person when you see them. That intuition to touch someone’s heart.”

I felt so touched by his sermon that I cried. Images of my grandparents flashed by my mind. Two distinct images. Both by their bedside and both in the hospital. I remembered my grandmother who had pneumonia. Her cheeks were all puffed up due to the medication and drips they were giving her. Her skin was filled with fluids. I remembered looking at her eyes and touching her arm. I said, “Mama, don’t worry you know. It’s going to be alright.”.

Another was the day I came back from Sydney to my hometown. I didn’t know that my grandfather was in a coma and critical stage when I boarded the flight. When I arrived, I only saw my dad. He then said, “Mummy is with your grandfather.”. I was told he could go at any time and that I might not even get to see him for one last time. When I sat in the taxi back, I tried so hard to stay awake although I was so tired from my flight. Each time the phone rings, my heart sank deeper each time in fearing my grandfather had passed away.

Eventually, I reached the hospital room. My grandfather was still there, lying on his bed in a coma. I looked at him. I looked at his wrinkly skin and all the patches on his arm. I touched his arm again and said, “Kong kong, I’m back. I’m here kong kong. Can you hear me?”. I just broke down there and then in front of my relatives. I felt so helpless and useless. My heart was broken into a million pieces.

In two of the incidents, I touched them. I didn’t care how wrinkly their skin were. I didn’t care what was on there or how many patches were there. They are my grandparents and I will touch their skin when I want to because it’s my instinct. No form of electronic communication will ever replace that. Nothing will ever replace that instinct that I have to ask if someone is okay because that is the fundamental of being human. We can talk to each other as much as we want on the phone and message each other as much as we like but nothing will replace a human’s touch.

I think I forgotten the importance of that. I didn’t realize how significant a human’s touch is and how much it is able to change someone’s life. Let’s not forget we have that gift. Let’s remember that you and I have hands for a reason. Let’s remember that you and I can always and will always be able to touch someone’s life should we allow ourselves to. You and I are special like that.

It’s that time of the year again! Oscar season! Honestly, this was a period I never quite follow when I was growing up. It just so happened that I have been keeping up with much more movie news that I thought I would. I follow a couple of channels on Youtube that talks about movies; mainly AMC Theatres, Schmoes Know and Jeremy Jahn. These are all passionate movie enthusiasts. Almost everyday, I get a good daily dose of movie updates and know the in things of the movie industry such as Michael Keaton will probably will his first Oscar for his performance in Birdman or that Whiplash might actually win the best picture award.

The funny thing is I have not watched Birdman or Whiplash to know anything more than what I hear on the videos and podcasts. I guess it’s cause I haven’t had time to go to the cinemas lately to watch them and also, sometimes the movies that are up for Oscars are not my cup of tea. I actually started watching all these movie channels because I’m a huge fan of superhero and Star Wars movies. Inadvertently, I absorbed everything else that comes along with it but fascinatingly, I initially failed to understand how can people just talk about movies every second of every hour of every day whether they are on or off camera. How can one dedicate their lives to discuss about everything related to the effervescent and enigmatic Hollywood industry?

I actually do know why but it wasn’t until last Saturday where I saw the picture from another perspective again. I was watching a football match between Arsenal F.C. and noisy North London neighbours, Tottenham Hotspur F.C. Now, people know I support Arsenal and every Arsenal fan hates (well dislike but hate will suffice) Tottenham Hotspur. Don’t ask why. Just go with it. I can’t believe we lost to them 2-1 and I was so angry that I probably could have smashed the television using a sofa. (I know I sound really violent but I was really upset.) I was talking to a friend and said dude, I am so opposite of calm right now I’m not even kidding. She then said, “Why do you like football so much?”. Therein lies the question isn’t it? After all, it’s just a match. Why do I like football so much to the point of emotional attachment?

Maybe it’s because I’ve been supporting them for ten years and hence, it’s normal to feel upset about it. Maybe it’s because my friends all watched it and I’m taken by it. It can’t be possibly the former because I felt upset when I initially started supporting them. The latter is possible but not really too. It hit me then. I realised every single time I watched an Arsenal match, it became my escape.

My friends know how passionate I am about the Lord of the Rings movies or superhero movies. Why is that? When I hear these movie enthusiasts talk, they mentioned they go to the cinemas to have fun. I mean come on, Guardians of the Galaxy was a fun movie but it really wasn’t THAT great in terms of plot development or the storyline. Also, some people actually have fun watching Michaebaxplosion Transformers! How is that even possible? Transformers… Really. Anyway, it’s the same reason I love watching football, the cinema becomes a platform of escape from the daily worries, struggles and family problems. For 120 minutes, the time is yours. If the movie is good, you worry about nothing else except for that which you are watching.

I think we easily judge people for having a passion for something when we don’t realise it is this passion that forms an escapade or break from hard-hitting realities of life. Of course, sometimes the passion is misplaced and people wonder into the wrong territories of drugs, sex and violence. It is one thing to escape from reality but it is another to escape to a harsher one and thinking it’s the same. We escape from reality not because we hate it but because a good escape helps us understand it better. We forget sometimes that fundamental of movies and football are human emotions. Any movie is build on that and always  has tangible connection to surreal experiences when done right and a football match is the perfect example to understand human dynamism. Of course, we don’t see that when watching them but we take them on without knowing we are. Understandably, the escape is just one aspect of the whole experience and there’s plenty of other things to talk about.

I remembered in my pubic speaking speech, I talked about football and at the end I quoted Bill Shankly. He said this, “Football is not a matter of life and death. I assure you, it’s more than that.” Whether you’re a fan of movies or sport, don’t you just find that quote fascinating?

I was going to come up with a better title than such a straightforward, uninspiring, uninteresting “Two Years” but that’s what it is. It’s been two exact years since I first started blogging. To be honest, it’s probably not much of a landmark but I think it is for me because, I never thought I will still be doing this after so long.

How did this all started? This started as a hobby.

I was inspired by a friend, who is definitely much more wittier, hilarious and of course, very much a journalist in nature. Her blog was such a good read that I decided to try one out. It also coincided with my longing to write stories again as I never had the opportunity any more since school ended. So, why not combine both? The aim then was to blog through stories and convey nuances of emotion through that. So, I started work on my first story, “The Sixth Sense“. It was about a man, broken emotionally, trying to find his way back in life through the experiences of others.

In a way, it worked because I was enjoying what I was doing and although the stories weren’t the tiniest shade of J.K. Rowling, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle or Mitch Albom, I felt good because I know I will get better with time as I improve on the structure, grammar, dialogue and plot development. As with everything, I also lost time writing short stories and I couldn’t keep coming out with new ideas on such a short basis. It was also during this time I was asked to write something for the Catholic Weekly regarding anything as long as it is related to the Church. I thought to myself, great! I am going to write a story titled “The Walk” and submit to them. It turned out that they wanted me to write my opinion instead. Writing that I did. I did that for a while and didn’t blog much during that period.

I don’t know what it was or who rather that triggered me to write more about myself as the months passed. I believe it was “The Path” that was the inception of the more opinionated and personal posts. Without realizing, I started writing a lot more than originally intended. This blog then became my outpouring of my own emotions. This wouldn’t have been possible had it not been for my friends who were touched and inspired by what I’ve written. When I found out a friend made this website his bookmark and a friend said “I feel touched whenever I read your blog”,  it meant the world to me and I’m forever grateful for that.

Then again, I really didn’t know what I blogged about. I just tell them I blogged about the little things and the rest to avoid explaining too much. When asked, a friend said, “He blogs about life,”. I guess that’s what it is. Life.

I’m thankful to every single person that stopped by this little hut of mine and stayed with me during the rain and also the sunshine. I know I normally just write what I write and treat it like a personal diary but it’s you that gave me strength and courage to keep writing. Thank you for that.

So, what now? I guess I will keep doing what I usually do. At the same time, I will write more different types of posts as well as it allows me to grow as a writer when I go out of my comfort zone.

This started as a hobby. It has now become my passion.

It’s been about a month since I started my internship back in Malaysia. The public transport back here is really something and by something, I really do mean not much. So, my dad drives me to work each day because the house only has one car and I haven’t learn how to drive yet. Every morning, I will wake up close to 6, get dressed, then go to have breakfast with my dad. At one of those mornings, my dad said, “You know this is much better than last time. Last time, it was straight from home to school. Now, we get to have breakfast too and we can chat,”. It made me remember all the mornings of the 12 years where my parents fetched me to school and as I grew older, I realized I have completely forgotten how significant this was.

I guess this takes me back to the last day where my parents made it a routine to fetch me to school. It was also the last day of my secondary education. I remembered the day like it was yesterday because it was both joyful, and heartbreaking. Finally, the grand projects of 12 years was coming to an end. As I got up that morning, I put on my shirt and tie properly knowing what day it is. There weren’t much students coming that day because only a handful of us was sitting for the exam which was Bible Knowledge. I was looking forward to that night the most as it was my first time watching a movie with friends. In fact, the movie was Tron: Legacy. It was probably one of the few movies I actually manage to catch with my high school friends. Just like that, the day went by. The exams were over! School was done! I also knew that I will hardly see my friends again, the ones I so cherish in my heart everyday and were the ones that made me consider my school a home.

I ran through that day again and again in my mind and I clearly remembered everything except for one thing, the drive. As much as my friends are a big part of my life, my parents have always been my rock although I hardly talk to them as I went through puberty. They were part of my every morning as I slept in the car on my way to school. Imagine that. I slept.

As each day passes, I have come to realised how much I have forgotten about my life, how much I miss my grandparents and how much love my parents gives to me on a constant basis. I think about how much fun it was when all my cousins and relatives were together with my grandparents. We don’t have that any more. I think back of how much stupidity and havoc I and my friends caused in school. We don’t have that any more. As each day passes, I’m afraid. I’m afraid that I will forget these things. I’m afraid that I will forget, who I was.

I want to remember every single thing in my life. I want to remember all these friendships I have made over the years and not let go of them. I want to go through all those mornings again where I can just sit in the car with my parents. I want to come home to my grandma’s cooking again. I want to do all these things again.

As I lay my head on my bed at night, I asked myself, “What if I forget these things one day?”

I guess I will. Eventually, I will probably forget all these memories but our memories are tied in with our emotion. Every single scenario is tied in with happiness, sadness and anger. The rest of emotions are just a combination of all of them. Just as combination of different chords make up different melodies, combinations of different emotions make up different memories. I remember what I do because they make me feel a certain way.

Understandably, it will be too much of us to remember every thing but we are not suppose to work that way. We work through pit stops. Every day in our lives is a pit stop. We stay at one but never for too long cause there’s so many things to do and see in this world. There are so many other people to help. If we put our hearts into one pit stop alone, can we ever truly live our lives? I’ve come to accept that we, as hard as it is have to move on and not be held back by these memories, as wonderful as they are.

I struggle with the battle to remember everything but I also know, in every situation, it was love that transcends the emotion. I know that one day I will forget these things. In fact, I probably forgotten a lot by now and can’t recall them but the emotions and experiences felt become innate. They are now a part of us. I don’t have to recall them to be who I am. I am who I am because those emotions are within my heart.

In a song, we just need to hear a few chords and bits of verses to remember the whole thing. Our memories work the same way. I know day I will forget but I know there will come a time I hear the same few chords and I will remember the whole song again.

On my last day of school, I told my dad, “Dad, I don’t want to go to Australia. I want to stay here and be with my friends and you all.”. He replied, “We all would like that, don’t we? But life is composed of a variety of colours. You want to look back and say, I have lived all these colours. And what a great life it was.”

I was actually writing a completely different post to this. It was titled the ‘Southbound Train’, a working title. In fact, I wrote two drafts of it and was probably going to write a third one, but only to stop myself. I strongly felt there’s a story in what I experienced but somehow or rather, it didn’t feel right. It felt forceful and a rehash of what I have written before. So, I decided to leave it and who knows, I might have something to write about it the next day.

Anyway, if you don’t already know, I have been practising the guitar. I know! It’s pretty exciting news to myself, maybe not to you, but to me, it’s really something. When I told my friend I was learning it, he asked, “So what are you naming her?”, to which I responded I don’t want to name her as I didn’t feel like playing <insert female name>. It just sounded wrong. We came up with names anyway and he said a guitar has to have a name kind of like how swords have names. Of course, my lightbulb was suddenly switched on. From now on, I shall call my guitar Brisingr! No, it doesn’t work? How about Riptide? If you know these references, you’re awesome. I decided to look up what guitar is in Japanese. My friend said it was probably guitaru. It was actually something that sounded way cooler than that. Are you ready? It’s… gita. I laughed to myself. Anyway, I didn’t end up naming her. Maybe in the future.

So, when I was younger, my mother asked (more like forced) me to take piano lessons. I hated it. Honestly, there’s no other word for it. I simply hated the theory and practising it everyday. My teacher tried hard to encourage me but to no avail and my mum kept persuading until eventually, I told her I wanted to quit. She finally gave in and I didn’t play the piano since. I remembered my mum telling me that I would regret not being able to play it. I don’t know if it’s regret but I certainly don’t mind the skill to play the piano as it is a whole other way to express my emotions and feelings. Thinking back now, quitting the piano actually had a bigger impact on my life than I thought but there’s a story for another day.

So, I didn’t have the skills to serenade girls with romantic songs and I certainly couldn’t contribute more in church choirs or praise and worship sessions. All I had going for is my parched throat chirping out random bird noises that somewhat sounded singing and like a melody but not really. I felt something was missing but I was glad I could help in any way I could but I always think back of the what if scenario. What if I knew the piano? What if I knew the guitar? When I listen to songs, I embarrassingly imagine playing the air guitar and thought how cool would it be to finally even play a simple tune.

It never materialized as year after year, I will always tell myself that I have something to do and that I have no time to pick it up. It wasn’t until last month I took up my sister’s guitar and a ‘Guitar for Dummies’ book that was left to me by my dear friend, sat on the couch and started learning some chords. My sister saw how serious I was and she and my mum decided to buy me a guitar for me to practise while I’m back in Malaysia. An hour ago was probably one of the most accomplished moments I have felt in my life. I have been able to strum a few things but never quite a full song. I remembered the song, “The Heart of Worship” by Matt Redman and I decided to look up the chords and just play it. It turns out the chords were pretty simple and I could managed it but that’s not the end of it. For once in my life, after 13 years, I was able to express to God not only one of my favourite songs of all time, but I was able to play a full song to play for Him to hear. I cried from it cause time and time in my head, I have always wanted to do this but never bothered to do it and finally, I was able to play not parts, but one whole song for the one I love the most in the world.

Do I regret I didn’t continue with the piano? I honestly wished I didn’t quit but there’s nothing I could do about that now. My life would have been very different and I wouldn’t be who I am today. I think there’s a fine line between quitting something because you are not ready and giving up because it’s too hard. I do think it more of the latter than former that I didn’t continue but I figured it’s both. As I grew older, I learned that it’s okay to hold back something until you are ready and certainly don’t give up when there’s tribulations.  Just as I didn’t continue with ‘Soutbound Train’ post, it wasn’t because I gave up on it, but rather it didn’t felt complete enough.

I will always remember what my mum said to me till the day I leave this earth, “When you want to do something, do it whole heartedly or else, don’t do it at all”. That’s today for now. Have a nice day wherever you are. 🙂