98

Can you say "ninety-eight"?

Repeat after me, "NINETTTTTY-EIGHT..."

There I was, seated casually in front of the tele for my usual lunch date with Oprah at 1.05PM (I take my dates with her very seriously these days since it's her farewell season) and was blown away by the closing segment of her Greatest Lessons show, basically featuring stuffs she learned in the past 25 years.

The segment featured a man named George Dawson (now deceased), who worked his entire life as a manual labourer, whether its covering potholes as a city worker or milking cows as a dairy farmer. Having laboured and toiled since a very young age, and perhaps attributed to his African-American ancestry, Dawson was denied the chance at education.

After a healthy push from a retired teacher, Carl Henry, Dawson decided to learn how to read and write at 98 years of age! Dawson went on to not only be able to read and write, but has since published a bestselling autobiography, "Life Is So Good".

And I'm not done yet, he was awarded honourary degrees from two universities, along with a school named exclusively after him, George Dawson Middle School.

Yet, what amazed me most was not so much his achievements, rather, what The Economist aptly pointed out, his ability to remain "clear-minded" despite his age. When you're at a certain age, and especially when you're 98, having tasted the asam garam kehidupan, you ought to have grown more or less spiteful or cynical towards things. But Dawson remained naive enough to think that he could still do all what he wanted to.

Now where's that Mandarin textbook?

About Love

Iris: I've found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said "Journeys end in lovers meeting." What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said "love is blind". Now that is something I know to be true. For some quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It's called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded. The handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space! Yes, you are looking at one such individual. And I have willingly loved that man for over three miserable years! The absolute worst years of my life! The worst Christmas', the worst Birthday's, New Years Eve's brought in by tears and valium. These years that I have been in love have been the darkest days of my life. All because I've been cursed by being in love with a man who does not and will not love me back. Oh god, just the sight of him! Heart pounding! Throat thickening! Absolutely can't swallow! All the usual symptoms. I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.

Opening monologue from The Holiday
Read by Kate Winslet
Written by Nancy Meyers

**

And all the broken-hearted, one-sided lovers say Amen!

Gostan

I'm hopeless I know.

I've promised myself to move on, look ahead, and stare deep into the horizon. Yet every now and then, I can't help but take a peep back and see how far I've come.

But the Uncle-Up-There says, "no one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God."

And so I've decided to gostan. I'm putting the plow to rest, march right back to where I came from, and embrace the past with a suffocating hug, before putting my hands to the plow again.

Truth be told, the main reason why I've been looking back so often, I realise, is that because I've never documented any of my Uni experience, I fear that I'd forget them - hence my constant need to look at the past and be reminded of it.

In the upcoming posts, you will find every facet of my entire Uni life extensively chronicled, from semester 1 to 6. And dear readers (if any), along the way, you'll find information that may or may not interest you but will be documented nonetheless as it is purely meant for my recollection.

After which, (I hope) there will be no more longing eyes casted at the past, and boy, will I start to work that plow.

Keep Running

I'll admit it.

I was devastated.

Some of my world's most significant people left on the morning of 27th September 2011 to graze on some greener grass halfway across the globe. And as I write this, they're probably about to land.

Soon after their departure, had brunch with the rest, went home and tried to get some sleep but couldn't really.

Instead, I had a moment - typical me.

Like a flood, their quirky antics and one-of-a-kind reactions came rushing in, almost drowning away my entire afternoon. My heart felt so empty yet heavy at the same time - the irony, I know.

I honestly don't know what it is. I question why I feel what I feel. Truth be told, I have only known them for less than two years. I wonder if they feel the same way for me. Even their parents ( who had raised them for 20 years) were more cool and calm about it than I was (was anticipating some live drama to play out among them).

I felt so UUURRRGHHHHHHH...

Finally, I decided to go for a run. I can't really explain what happened during this time but it was as though with every step, hope rose. With every step, I could move on. But there was a catch, I had to keep running.

And I guess that's what it's all about.

To my beloved lawyers, who I know will be reading this some time after you land, I hope you'll do the same - keep running.

I love you very much,
Kenneth

#1 A Little Self-Promotion Didn't Hurt Nobody

I can't believe I'm doing this.

I've always been rather hush-hush about the stuffs that I do (did) at Uni since I can remember. You'll find me shoving my research paper somewhere at the bottom of the pile when handing in an assignment or just replying a simple "I'm grateful" in response to a dear classmate's concern about my results.

But I'll admit it, I am competitive, and I am rather hard on myself when it comes to assignments. For the sake of brevity (and dignity), let's not go there.

Today, a dear friend of mine just reminded me of a little stop-motion video project we embarked on as a tribute to the late Yasmin Ahmad back in 2009. If you don't know, stop-motion basically means compiling a bunch of drawings sequentially to create a motion picture, just like how they did it back in 1912 (don't quote me on this).

More and more, I've come to realise that me being discreet in the stuffs that I do isn't helping me much, especially with the prospect of my fledgling career in mind. I'm thinking of posting some of the stuffs I've done in the past, but let's start with this one.

3 Sekawan Productions, as the name suggests, was birthed firstly, out of friendship, and then out of an almost magnetic work chemistry. Leonard, Mei Yen and I formed the team, each contributing to a specific (yet not exclusive) role i.e. Leonard in creative/art direction, Mei Yen in photography and videography, and myself, in writing.

This tribute to Yasmin was done so last minute by 3 Sekawan that I could still feel the gasps in my breath today. It was due at around 9AM and we started at maybe 3pm the day before? And may I add, the drawing, colouring, shading, scanning was painstaking to say the least. But in any case, I just remembered having so much fun, and it being one of those moments I felt truly alive.

One more thing, I must say that though I'm embarking on this self-promotion business, this video was made by ALL three of us, each deserving equal credit to the work.

Here goes nothing!

Heartstrings

Back and forth, back and forth.

My mind has been reeling back and forth between the past and the future. There is so much I have to say for a time such as this, yet saying it may not even do justice to how I feel.

The song below paints a picture of a parent letting go of his/her child. No, I wouldn't call myself a parent (or a father), that would only water down its significance. Perhaps a caretaker, where his role has run its course. And there's nothing left to do, but to simply accept this truth.

*Mushy alert!

My child inside I love you
I'm asking through the tears
That God would grant me wisdom
Way beyond my years
Because your life is precious
And the best for you's in store
I pulled upon my heartstrings
Until they finally tore

And I prayed
And I cried
And because I love you so I'm letting go
To trust the One I know for sure
I'll place you in the Father's hands
The only One who'll ever love you more

You were the miracle we prayed for
That we could not have had ourselves
You brought us joy and happiness
And a love we never felt
How we cherished every moment
Then we looked up and you were grown
Never knew this day would come so soon
Or how the years have flown

And we laughed
And we cried
And how it hurts us so to let you go
So much life for you in store
I'll place you in the Father's hands
The only One who'll ever love you more

And the hardest part of living
Is giving back what we've been given
Each gift from God is only yours and mine
For a time

So we laughed
And we cried
And the hardest part of life is letting go
To trust the One we know for sure
Will hold us safely in His hands
Cos no one else will ever love us more
Will hold you safely in His hands
Cos no one else will ever love you more

"Heartstrings"
by Lisa Bevill and Erin O'Donnell

**

I never imagined I would feel this way. So much has hit me over the past week. I don't think I knew the love I had. As your "caretaker", my duty was to care, and I did (as best as I knew how). But somewhere along the way, a sense of fondness grew for the people I cared for. Little did I know, I fell in love with you sweethearts (and rascals).

Everything will change, I know it for a fact. You were given to me for a time to learn what I needed to. But lesson time is up. And I have learned what I needed to. Perhaps you have too. I don't mean to sound pessimistic, Lord knows I try to keep my head to the sky. But I know I have to close this chapter, and you have to close yours too. But should we be given another chance at friendship, I'd grab the bull by its horns, and be the best friend I can. But if not, I'd count all these months/years as nothing short of a blessing.