Wondering Wednesday

Have you ever wondered:

Why TIME is the greatest healer of emotional wounds?

Did the wounds heal by TIME at all?

When the wounds on our skin heal, there’ll be no trace of the once bloodied opening. A wound in our hearts? Does it ever disappear, like a puff of smoke?

Being an unpleasant incident that happened in the timeline of our lives, can we make it disappear? By turning back the time?

If we can’t turn back the clock, what would happen to the wound?

Nothing?

Perhaps the wounds do get healed. Or patched up? Maybe not by TIME? Maybe by our tendency to FORGET? And maybe by our ability to LAUGH at ourselves?

So, why are we giving credits to TIME??

Reading My Blog?

My heart suddenly skipped a beat. I felt an unfamiliar sense of funny tickling inside me.

“I left something in the car. You guys go ahead and get a table,” I told my wife. I turned around and walked towards my car, parked outside the café.

I opened the door, reached for the glove compartment, opened and closed it without taking anything. Then I headed towards the café again. Before I passed the table where I decided to turn around, I made sure I was slow enough to confirm what I’d just seen – a laptop screening the familiar picture of “Piece of Brick for Piece of Jade”!

Oh ... My ... God!

As the café offered free wireless internet connection, there were a few laptops scattering around the place. Hopeful and wishfully, I deliberately took a longer and curvier route towards my wife and kids, intending to pass every table that had a laptop on it. As I strolled slowly, my heartbeat was getting faster, not sure what to expect.

I went around a middle-aged guy who was staring thoughtfully at a screen, eyebrow locked, and fingers resting on the keyboard. I saw the screen was at the comment page of “What is LIFE?”. “Yes!” I cheered silently, almost swung my fist.

Then I walked pass a group of giggling teenagers around a laptop, I noticed “Wordless Wednesday” and my avatar on the screen. They were discussing what to post as a comment. I smiled. This was getting unreal.

I turned and notice the page on “Waking Up” facing a lady, sitting still at the nearby table. I softened my steps on the wooden floor, as I could almost sense the intense reading from the back of the lady. “Yeah!” I yelled in my thought.

Two tables later, I saw a guy reading “The Widest Smile” on his laptop. He stared at me when he noticed that I was studying his reaction reading the screen. I smiled back. I suddenly felt a tickle within me, and my mouth cracked into the biggest smile. My fists were pumping rapid-fire style, with the tiniest movement.

As I was heading towards my family, I noticed an irritated face in front of another laptop. I made another u-turn and walked towards the table. Ah … “Who do we need?” my rare political post. The guy was probably on the other side of the fence. By then, I had almost burst into laughter, snapped my finger, jumped up and raised my hand for a high-5 with the Blogging God.

“I have to go to the toilet,” I told my wife, who’s bemused by my facial expression, twisted by attempts to suppress a laughter. After I entered the toilets, I looked at the mirror. The most handsome man in the world with the biggest smile on his face was looking at me from the other side of the mirror.

"Hehehehehe …” the smile’s finally transformed into giggles. I’ve never felt so happy, and funny, as the faces of those people reading my blog flashed through my mind.

“Hahahahaha …” the giggles erupted into laughter. The reflection of the bewildered look on the guy coming out from the cubicle behind me made me laugh even harder. Tears were beginning to flow down my cheek.

“Wahahahaha….” then I was laughing so hard that my tears of joy were beginning to be joined by my saliva of happiness dripping from the corner of my mouth.

“Wohohohoho…” amidst the unstoppable laughter, my hands began to shake uncontrollably. Suddenly …

“Dear, what do you want for drink?” my wife asks, shaking my hand.

Then I wake up ...

“Shit!”

Shit!

Something that's oozed out from your body. And it's not tears.

:-)

Original Post

Wondering Wednesday

Have you ever wondered:

Why halfway through brushing your teeth in the morning, you turn to the mirror, and you realize, for a split second, you have no idea who the person looking back at you in the mirror is?

If we "are” who we are, why do we need to “boot up” our memory, from a total blankness of white, to recognize the person in the mirror??

Are we who we are, or just the person configured by “our memory”???

Maybe that’s how they started the Matrix movies????

What is LIFE?

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Who do we need?

Last night, I’d gone through a few red lights to reach home in time to catch the historical show on TV - the much-awaited live telecast of the debate between our de-facto opposition leader and our Information Minister.

I was never into politics. This was actually the first time I watched Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim speak publicly. And I was impressed. I was also impressed by Datuk Ahmad Shabery Cheek’s performance, apart from moments when there was a brief pause, and a sentence being repeated while searching for the next point, and the slightly stale closing speech. I was never qualified to rate the debate, but I think it was good and interesting.

(Following are the comments and opinions of an apolitical frog under a well, read if you will, comment if you will, but try not to be disappointed for the lack of professionalism and in-depth analysis in the article, for this is something out from the mouth of a political idiot.)

As I watched the debate progress, and observing how Anwar spoke, I couldn’t help feeling that should our Prime Minister, Pak Lah, or his deputy who was on the opposite end of him (as wished by Anwar), they could have been pale in comparison (although I’ve never seen both of them speak in public either). As I observed Anwar displaying his prowess in public speech, I was beginning to tag him with “good orator”, “captivating”, “persuasive”, and even “manipulative”. Towards the end of the debate, I suddenly found myself comparing him with what I read about another charismatic leader – Adolf Hitler!

At the end of the debate, I had hundred questions circling in my mind: Is Anwar too smart for our good to be the leader of our nation, which is multi-racial, multi-religion in society, and multi-party in the political arena? And what is the quality of a good leader at this time in our nation? Then I was starting to compare him with Pak Lah.

I have the impression that technically, Anwar would top Pak Lah. However, in my opinion, you don’t need expert knowledge to be a good leader. There are teams of aides, consultants who can provide all the necessary facts, findings, studies, and what-if analysis to aid in the decision making process. What is required of the leader is to make a decision in choosing a course of action amongst many that are proposed.

And I think the personality of the leader has a significant influence on the decision being made. Would he take the moderate approach? Should he take the more extreme measure? Or maybe he should just let things be, and do nothing? This is the crucial moment when a leader has to show his/her mettle. This is the crucial moment when the personality of the leader will be tested.

Also, in a political scenario where one has to be a leader of a political party (be it based on political ideal, religion or race) before you can be a leader of the nation, it’s understandable if sometimes the party leader has to go a bit extreme in championing the course of the party, even if it go against the interests of other parties. But when one is a leader of a nation, interest of one’s party is but one out of many to be considered. At this stage, the interest of one party cannot be overriding the interests of others. The leader needs to moderate amongst multiple parties to get national policies approved and executed.

Personality, to me, right here, right now, is of utmost importance for our country. The course of a river can be changed, so can a mountain be made into a plain. Personality, though, is a different matter. It can be hidden, it can be suppressed, but it’ll show itself sooner or later.

At the end of his political career, Pak Lah may not be remembered as the leader who has made things happened, as much as a leader who has let things happen. Just like how he had let it be after the “tsunami” of 2008 Election; and just like how this debate was able to be held, and even telecasted live.

As easy as I would attach “moderate” to Pak Lah, I would attach “extreme” to Anwar.

So, who do I think is more eligible to be our leader at this time among the two? Well, I’m not telling if you haven’t already known.

Huh

“Huh”

That’s how I punctuate every problem that crops up in front of me during my daily life. Be it at work or at home.

And I’ll dot it with an element of surprise.

“Huh?”

Surprised that life has decided to throw another round my way, after I’ve dealt with them countless times before. Surprised that I did not manage to foresee the problem this time round, or that I’d mistimed the occurrence. Surprised that I was surprised that problem’s shown its face.

Then I’ll taint it with a slice of contempt.

“Huh?;”

Contempt that life has decided to throw another round my way, yet again. Contempt at the number of times life has tested my patience and wisdom. Contempt that life still thinks I have not proven myself. Contempt that life would think I don’t have a shoulder big enough to bear the responsibility and consequence when they are due. Contempt that life would think that I’m not strong enough to deal with the emotion of sadness, disappointment, loss, etc. Contempt that life would assume I would put unnecessary weigh on materialism or other people’s opinion, approval or recognition of me. And therefore contempt at the lightness of the problem emerged.

On top of that, I’d add a dose of excitement in it.

“Huh?;!”

Excited at the chance to work my brain to solve another riddle. Excited at the chance to claim another victory over life. I’m one who always believes problem can be solved with our resources on hand plus a little creativity. So, there’s a chance to be creative and squeeze every possible ounce of usefulness from what we have in hand. With a little creativity, 1+1 does not always equal 2.

I’d also mix in a drop of indifference.

“Huh?;!*”

According to Oxford Dictionary, problem means difficult matter requiring a solution. That’s just what it is - a difficult matter. Nothing earth shattering. The sky won’t fall, the sun won’t explode, and the sea won’t rise. It is just a difficult matter.

I rarely, and refuse to, freak out in the face of problem. I’ll probably curse, but I seldom get angry at the untimely occurrence. It’s a waste of time and effort to cry over spilt milk. We don’t have a time machine and there’s no way we can undo the happening. So “Why me?” or “Why now?” is probably the last question to be asked at the immediate moment. I would be quick to look for a solution, and get the job on hand done. Improvement or prevention on the problem could be dealt with later.

“Huh?;!*”

That’s how I’ve been practicing my “Huh” in front of my daily problems. It’s not perfect, yet, but I’m trying very hard.

Oh, one more thing. When you “Huh?;!*”, remember to lift your eyebrow slightly, as slightly as you twist the corner of your mouth, and smile - as if you’re looking at an opponent that’s not even worthy of you lifting your finger. And then deal with the problem.

“Huh?;!*”

I have one too

My Stat Declaration:

I hereby declare -

38

33

40

There, that’s my stat declaration. Of course the middle figure could be +1 or +2 after a heavy lunch or dinner. No-lah, this is not the retractable one - statutory declaration - that’s the declaration of my vital statistics.

...

Sorry-lah, just trying to catch up on the current in-jokes of the country. Although, if I’m funny enough, I would also write something on the other butt of joke too - "ymodos" (it’s not a typo, just like it suggests, it has to be read from behind).

...

Showdown

I think there is nothing more distressful than your “ex-“ fighting with your “current”. Especially when they’re swearing, pointing fingers at each other, pulling each other’s hair, and throwing shoes at each other. To add more spices to the pandemonium, both are involved in allegation of extra-marital affairs.

But the sad part is, both are probably in line to be our next Prime Minister, via different route. Aren’t we lucky! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the “Showdown” has begun! In one corner - our ex-DPM (Deputy Prime Minister), in the other corner - our current DPM.

(Click for news)

As I watch the dramatic events being unfolded amidst sometimes comedic, and laughable twists and turns, I’m not exactly sure how to feel.

As a citizen facing daily problems of rising cost of food and fuel, should I be upset at the distraction? Or should I be thankful that they are providing entertainment in these times of hardship?

As a Malaysian, should I feel shames? Hmm… probably nobody knows where Malaysia is anyway, right? In that case, can I quietly enjoy the show? After all, EPL football season is yet to start.

In the mean times, I will also be watching with great interest on transfer news. No, not footballers, our MPs.

Did I say “distressful”? I probably meant “entertaining”. Join me?

Snap!

I hated myself …

“Can we watch cartoon?” my two children asked. “Five more minutes, after I’ve finished,“ I replied. Most of the time, I would just let them take over the remote control and go read my newspaper. But I’d been trying to catch the ending of this show for quite some time, and it happened to be on after dinner that day. Obediently, they sat on the sofa, handling the remote control playfully. Just about when the show was to end, the channel changed.

“HEY!” I shouted, frustrated, stood up, went over to my six-years old boy, gave him a slap on the leg, stared at him angrily for two seconds and snatched the remote control from him.

My little boy was stunned. Not from the pain of my slap (it wasn’t the hardest slap that I’ve given him, neither was it painless), but from my sudden and unexpected violent outburst. As I sat there watching the rest of the show, my heartbeat started to hasten. Hatred grew within me. The boy sat quietly, and uncomfortably. He kept shifting his hands and stared blankly at the TV, not knowing how to react. Sensing his fear, uneasiness, helplessness and being at a loss, my hatred grew even stronger, and anger was starting to rise. Being a parent, I had a very strong urge to give him a hug and tell him it’s okay. But I did not. Frustration emerged.

After the show finished, I threw the remote control toward them. They yelled happily, and watched their cartoons, as though nothing had happened. I went into my room and read my newspaper. My heart was still beating fast.

My snapping at the moment the TV channel changed, was what gave rise to the hatred and anger within me, towards myself. So were the ease with which I let rage blind me, and the eruption that followed. Why did I snap? Was it the eagerness to finish the show? Was it their disobedience? Was it the disappointment that they fail to respect my simple request, yet again? Maybe there are better way to react under this circumstance?

As much as I’m vague about the reason behind the outburst, I’m also uncertain as to why I refrained myself from giving him a hug. Ego? Was it that I want him to learn the lesson? Was it this time round, it was me being agitated, better to be on the receiving end from me than others? Should I have comforted him then and explain things to him, again?

Not sure.

As rare as I would use violence, or show the violent side of me to the children, I doubt that will be the last time. And mind you, it’s not the first time either. For facts, I know they’ll always be playful, disobedient at times, and testing boundaries most of the times, and I’ll have things that I wanted to do which needed their understanding and following my instruction. These being facts of life, the occurrence of another agitation and another outburst are very probable indeed.

But, perhaps, at times I could be more than “just human” for my kids?

But at that point of time, I hated myself.