Oxymoron In The Tropics

 When I mention 'the other side', I am talking about the stroll down the hill towards retirement.  I am no longer in the prime of my career ... if there is such a thing.  I am freaking out my colleagues by doing stuff like digging out old boxes and tossing files and telling them I am preparing for retirement.  But I am also doing stuff like learning new teaching and learning techniques and I might even set up a YouTube channel.  After all, I am looking ahead to a new phase of life where I have more say in what I do with my daily hours.  I cannot fathom going through a day where I don't learn something new or create something that wasn't there before. Post pandemic years feel weird.  Especially when I am now in the group preparing for retirement. Priorities went upside-down, new habits were formed, perspectives changed irrevocably... and I feel that I am having to adapt to an existence that might look the same as it used to but is vastly different in un...

I can't say much. So I'll just share lyrics from a song. 'Life Will Pass' Moments full of happiness Of sweet youth days, Nothing to do, you cannot bring them back, Fate is not to be controlled, it is not. Those days will be a thing of the past, Where dreams and fantasies are intertwined, Everything will remain an echo, When the time comes to think. The life passes, passes, Fleeting like a river, May your star never go out, Until the cherished dream is achieved. The life passes, passes, Everything in this life is in vain, May your star never go out, Until the cherished dream is achieved. When the fog will cover the soul, When happiness will leave you, When you're alone in the world, Will there be someone who will understand you? And your blooming youth, It will turn into a mirage someday. No matter how you deceive yourself, but in the end Your fate is in the hands of the Almighty. The life passes, passes, Fleeting like a river, May your star never go out, Until the c...

 I've been 'away'... although not very far.  And I've decided to return... even though it's a very very different world now from the world in my last post. Don't ask me about 2018... but Life started to skew sideways at the end of 2019 when news started to trickle out regarding a strange new virus.  Then clips of people walking down streets and suddenly collapsing started appearing in chat groups.  At first I thought it was one of those fake clips.  Or maybe cut from a film about  zombie pandemics or insidious alien attacks.  Alas, I was wrong.  Then by March 2020, for the first time ever, I experienced a pandemic lockdown.  Schools were shut, shops closed.  Roadblocks sprouted up like mushrooms to deal with those who still didn't believe the reality of what was happening.  The government floated an app that looked like some sort of controlling mechanism.  Well, fast forward to October 2021... that app is now required for entry...

When people talk about 'the walking wounded', they normally think of soldiers returning from a battlefield.  I usually think of a war poem I studied in university... Wilfred Owen's 'Dulce Et Decorum Est'.  Oh man, that was such a gory poem.  I could actually hear the sounds of the wounds... viscera spilling out into the open where it was never meant to be... But today I am thinking of different 'walking wounded'.  In my many years of navigating the morass of relationships, I have been continually astonished by the level of woundedness I have encountered in people I meet.  They walk upright and smile when they would and sleep when they should... but they carry such deep injuries within.  I almost wish they had physical injuries instead... at least these injuries would be exposed to the air and dried sooner or later.  But emotional and mental injuries can live forever within psyches.  Like an abscess, they sit inert but causing pain.  And these wounds continue...

It's been 23 years since I first stepped into a school as a teacher and I haven't lost the fascinated feeling I get when I'm at work. The feeling of sometimes being awestruck in silence when I watch my students... To me, each of them are raw works of art... potential masterpieces. They themselves are the artists and they hold their own palettes and brushes. Yes, there are times I feel like screaming in frustration ... or like grabbing one by the shoulders and shaking him or her awake from a dreamfog.  A lot of such times... but isn't a masterpiece usually born of frenzied energy and angst? And now I teach pre university students... it seems like ALL of them are brimming with angst.  I used to feel like I was the one holding the brush and that I HAD to do this or do that... but I have come to realise that these masterpieces-in-the-making need to make their own decisions of where the brushstrokes need to go and how much paint to use and when to apply the colours... ...

Last year the admin thought it a great idea for me to be put in charge of the school magazine. Wow. Gee. Hooray. So I got to work. I kinda made a mash of the committee meetings... LOL, there were none! With teachers anyway. But plenty of gatherings with my editorial board. Plenty of pizza too. Went through a steep learning curve, learned how to use software (that I won't mention as I can't even afford to breathe on the CD box) and brushed off dust from old skills in design. I may prefer to dress simply and sometimes monochromatic but I know what looks good on a cover. I even dragged in an old friend Sufri into designing the cover (lucky thing he's school alumni). Well, Bornean 2013 is done and I'll hold the finished product in my grubby hands today... yay!  I consider it my first draft. Bornean 2014 will be a groundbreaker. Can't wait... :-)

I was looking for some info in my blog this morning when I noticed the number of posts I'd been making the last few years. Wow, only two last year and two the year before that. Heh heh. It's a sure sign that I'm in a happy place. Angst is a great trigger for prose... no wonder the most prolific writers tend to be the ones struggling with lots of personal grief. Well, to be fair, I love to write whatever my personal feelings may be at any given time. It's just that I've been writing more on my other blog. I'm very happy with my career at the moment because I'm where I should be.. in school. Any school will do... as long as there are students in it and I get to teach English.

When I was single and teaching in an all-boys school, I had my eyes opened really wide to the challenges of growing up nowadays.  I saw boys who stayed back in school because school (even if it was empty) was much better than home.  I found out about boys who came to school in a Toyota Prado and waited till the 4WD was down the street before they hopped onto another vehicle (bus or car) headed God-Knows-Where.  But after a while, everyone found out where.  I had one boy (clean-cut and such a well-behaved angel!) in my class who disappeared after a few months.  I found out later that he was helping coordinate the activities of a car theft syndicate.  The thing was.. I knew most of these boys' families or backgrounds and the majority were from normal middle-class families.   What happened to lead them down such thorny paths? The boy with the Prado had permissive parents... nothing was too good for their angel.  So he grew up with a self-cen...

Finding Love and Acceptance Finding Love and Acceptance Part II Continuing my reflections on how people seek love and acceptance, it is inevitable to talk about what happens when love is rejected. Authors and playwrights like to write about unrequited love because there are so many variations and so much more drama. Besides, such tales sell better than ones where the hero and the heroine meet, fall in love and get married. Yawn. For those who have felt the pain of unrequited love, they know that it is a pain like no other. Imagine feeling strong emotions for someone and that someone doesn't even know you exist. Or perhaps does realise you are alive but isn't interested to know more. It is no wonder that some are driven to send endless smses and make endless calls to the object of their affection. They know that they are probably driving the other person away but they feel frightened of not being able to win the other person's affection, either through inactio...

When I was in university, I learned one unfailing strategy to get people to attend society activities. All we had to do was ensure that plenty of food was available. Simple fare like sandwiches and biscuits but plenty of it. In the first school I worked in, that same strategy worked like a charm. The boys were willing to paint endless walls, make innumerable posters and run unending miles as long as there was food and drink available. During sports season, I promised lunches and a guaranteed supply of cold drinks - this got me extreme loyalty and perseverance in sports events...LOL... I've since learned that for boys (& men too?), food is a most important starter. It's no wonder I was always broke in my first decade of teaching. Recently a friend commented that Malaysia was lucky to enjoy such harmony despite the many different races & religions. Bar the occasional lawsuit and Molotov cocktail. I noticed that he had been attending a number of events which natura...

I have noticed that most problems in relationships can be traced back to boundaries, whether unclear or unrealistic or whatever. Last week, a cousin had a quarrel (a major one!) with her parents and aunts (the uncles normally run for cover) because they disagreed with her choice of partner.  As someone on the outside looking in, I could not really tell what the real issues were but I could see that for the first time in her life, my cousin was rebelling against the established boundaries of her family expectations.  As these boundaries (rules and protocol) were the same throughout the families in the clan, the aunts jumped in to 'defend' family traditions.  One could say that the family was being too rigid... but at the same time, my cousin not only rebelled against family 'law' but she was also trying to buck social rules - hint : she could end up in Syariah court if she wasn't careful.   As far as I know, tradition has won .... although I suspect my young cousin...

The other day, someone accused me of being 'naive' and he made it seem as if 'naive' is such a terrible thing to be.  As if I allow every conman on the street to trick me out of my savings and as if I buy into all the frauds and scams that fly into town.  The issue we were disagreeing over was the simple matter of trust.  I chose to trust someone else who was as yet an unknown quantity to me, giving that other person the benefit of the doubt. I didn't give that third person the keys to my house... or the PIN to my bank accounts.... or the care of my son.... or the secrets of my life.  I merely chose to give that person my friendship.  However, this really upset my other friend who felt I should keep a distance and observe this other person first.  Watch and wait for him to do something.  Although I do not know what it is that I am supposed to watch for... By 'coincidence', this other friend is also the type to cultivate a coolly sarcastic facade.  No mat...

Ever heard of the saying,"Be careful what you wish for...you just may get it."? Well, right now I'm thinking of "Be careful what door you open...you just may not be able to close it." I opened a door and now I'm thinking of closing it.  But the problem is... I don't think it can be closed.  And even if I close it, I fear that like Pandora's Box, what's done is done. So now what does one do when one has taken a step down a certain path and one can't turn back? I suppose one just continues on down that path. I used to tell my friends (and smugly at that!) that I would never take a step down a path if I don't like what lies at the end of that path.  Well, I wince now at my arrogance.  For many a time no one knows what is at the end of the path. Sh*t.

A darling friend asked in mournful tones,"Did he ever really care for me?  Did he ever really love me?" Ah yes, another broken heart.  I imagine the pain is like a piece of glass shattering, all the shards flying, ripping, cutting, slashing... rebounding upon itself and tearing new wounds over and over again... you may even feel as if you'll never be whole again, as if the pieces can never come together again...  A painful story repeated , all over the world, throughout the centuries.... crossing all boundaries; skin colour, castes, ....   It's such a common story, yet awful in its freshness and its totality to the sufferer. After so many years listening to other friends, handling my own little 'breakages' and drinking so many mugs of Nescafe ( panacea for all ills! ), I have learned that there is no fixing a broken heart.  The best one can do is to mourn the loss of dreams & hopes, cry a little (or a lot!), drink lots of coffee (or whatever) and rememb...

A friend called me up recently to bemoan the fact of his single status. "How do I find that one perfect girl???" Such an ageless question. I think for as long as there are people alive on this planet (and off!), this will always be a question echoing in minds and hearts. Whether the query is from a male or female. As someone who has been through that wringer and emerged relatively unscathed (with just a scratch or ten), I can safely say...to all those who are still 'suffering', "Have faith and be patient...it's not going to be easy, confronting all those well-meaning ppl who keep tsking and clucking,"Why are you being so choosy...blah blah blah..." What do they know anyway? But, as always, the worst 'critic' is yourself. I made it easier for myself during my single days by holding to a few principles: 1) Everyone is my friend and all of them are potential fun planners & partners :) 2) To be married to the wrong person is a million...

One of the questions I always get from people around me is..."What do I do now? How do I decide?" Such a common cry... Decisions ... they can drive us mad they can bring us to grief they can drive our successes... Yet so many people don't know how to make the right decisions. But is there a single formula for 'making the right decision'? Unfortunately...no. I only know what works for me, which is usually a combination of approaches. The first thing I do is pray to God for guidance. (religious approach) The second is to gather as much info about the issue as I can from books, people etc. The idea is to reach some sort of 'critical mass'... (common sense approach) The third is list down all my choices from 1 to 10 and start writing out the consequences for each choice. (classic counselling approach) The fourth is cross out the 'dumb' or 'crazy' choices that have unacceptable consequences. The fifth is pray ... and go to sleep. (Roslyn'...

Today is another one of those days when I wake with an ache in the head and a weight on the shoulders. I walk into the office and I see all the letters on the table and in my pigeonhole and slipped under the door. And chirpy people breeze by, carolling,"Don't forget tonight's function ah! You're in protocol!" Sigh... So to destress, I take some time out to write. My friends who've been with me since primary school know that I write when I am stressed. I write letters, I write notes, I write stories... and now blog posts. So far, I've written 17 posts just for the month of April...out of a total of 26 for the whole year so far. ...the best of times, the worst of times... April 2009 is going to stand out in my thoughts for a long time to come....:/ Today I want to write about people and expectations. Everyone has expectations...of themselves and of others. And most people will have high expectations of friends or colleagues perceived to be a high ach...

Trying out a new widget...Meebo. Useful...and helps me keep track of all my contacts in multiple IMs. In fact, I'm chatting with an old friend right now. Topic now is "Would we want to relive our life? Would we want to be 15 again? Or 25? :) To be 15 means I'd be back in Form Three, suffering exams and books and maths sums and history facts...I'd be in St Francis Convent, involved in mass drills under the sun, swinging ribbons to marching music. I'd be spending my afternoons finishing book after book of past year exam questions. Oh no, I'd never want to be 15 again. To be 25 means being a young teacher in La Salle, being assigned all the tasks no senior teacher wanted. Like DEBATE! Hahhaha...and afternoon practices and weekend camps. I'd get to be secretary of the PTA. I'd be asked to be head of the Davies sports house or assistant to the head. Now that would mean long hours in the field, yelling at the students to run faster, jump higher or ...

Was in my English class. And I don't know how the topic came up but I asked them,"Why are you alive? Why do you live? What do you think of when you wake up in the morning?" There were only about six or seven boys in class (the others were taking an ICT course in the resource centre). They stared at me half-amused and half-befuddled... yeah, the quirky English teacher..never know what she's gonna say and look at her now...she's doing it again. But I LIKE asking philosophical questions. It's at least half a kilo better than saying,"Okay, open your book to page 29." Don't you think so? I especially like asking questions that make my students think. And ask. And ponder. When I pressed them for answers, one said,"We live for God...for the glory of God." Smart boy . And he's only sixteen. Otherwise what else are we on this planet for? To go to school/work? To earn money? To bitch at people? I believe I'm on this planet to...

Being a teacher is so tiring...not just mentally but also physically. Now I can add 'physiologically' to the list :) Crashed and burned last week. I started feeling weak and floaty and being familiar with the sensations, quickly started dosing myself with 100plus and chicken essence. And water and multivitamins and the ultimate medicine...SLEEP. Two days later, I wasn't feeling better and went to the doc. Blood pressure was 90/60. Doctor wanted to put me on the drip. Yeah, I know, my body is telling me to stop killing myself. Stop sleeping late, waking up early and all the stuff that's not good for my well-being. But my problem is I am never satisfied with what I have done and I'm always thinking,"Should've been better...should've done extra..". My students mewl a little bit and I'm already turning cartwheels with bigger and better lessons. The teachers hem and haw a little bit and I'm already spinning rainbows with greater and fin...