Post Night Shift

It was close to 12 a.m., and by that time I had survived 42 hours with about 5 hours of sleep. Predictably, my mind being its stubborn self, decided to churn the wheels and fire the neurons rather than rest.

In the stillness of midnight,
I thought about whether I am doing enough with my life. Have I grown into my skin enough now that I am approaching a new digit to front my age? Am I still the same optimistic girl who viewed the world through rose-tinted plum-colored Ray Ban-wannabe sunglasses? I wonder why have I not saved the world with my wit (or lack of) and wisdom, why aren't I out in the middle of the forest hugging trees to stop the roaring excavators. Why have I not found the cure for everything?

Oh dreams of the child, blown big by imagination, pulled back by the ropes of reality.

The creaking cerebellum, frozen by mundanity, kept alive by randomness.

So I told myself that I need to find some oil for the brain and the soul. Not the romanticized movie version of dropping everything and going halfway round the globe but rather, to find solace in the intervals between routine. The small moments.

The writing, the learning, the taking pride in my vocation. The kindness, humility and compassion. To do something wholeheartedly and expect nothing in return.

I willed myself to remember all this when I wake up the next morning. And for the other mornings after. Can or not, girl?

Where have the years gone?

I graduated.

I embarked on a working life.

I GOT MARRIED.

Still go crazy with lack of sleep and/or lack of food.

Still cynical (growing more so each day, with the way things are going in our Motherland)

Flew more than an hour to get to a destination (in this case, 8).

Flew more than 8 hours to another world (in this case, almost 24).

Lost loved ones.

Gained new ones.

I think I feel feverish.

I think I should take the bullish life by its balls.

I think I should start expressing myself again.

Never, ever get old

The sound of cars passed Below as the fan swayed; Thoughts & phrases amassed As the tender music played. Pen, the mighty instrument on paper Scribbles that make sense, no? Rhythmic power-I need to taper To reach an awesome,beautiful crescendo. But it came crashing down Ain't it? Darn I need to- Get this going, melody & sound, Feelings & instinct broken into. The sound of crows counting Mr. Jones looked on in awe, Ah there finally it is mounting Nope. Fat chance. Aww.

2:05 a.m.

Life, as we know it - can never be understood no matter how hard we try.

We go through life, as mundane as it may be and sometimes we lose sight of where we are heading, or what we are doing.

But random happenings will manifest itself; in the form of a book, a passage one chance upon, a conversation, a realization, a brief thought.

They remind us that we are here, still. Shouldn't we then be grateful?

For another day, another minute, another second.

another chance.

And I picked up my fingers again

I've realized just recently that it had been ages since I have read a good book. A story book to transport me to times past, present and future. A book to push my bed time later than usual, risking blank stares and blurry thoughts the following morning. Atenolol, paracetamol-wha?

Thus in the midst of all the other work still pending (despite being already a working woman, I do still have assignments to complete, presentations to present and a research paper to write-how mad can we get?), I picked up a book from the shelf and started to read.

The book was The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri.

I found myself daydreaming about the characters, thinking about them as I drive to work, as I bathe, as I eat, looking forward to the time when I cosy myself on the bed with the book before retiring for the night.

Suffice to say, I Missed reading. With a capital M.

While on the subject of picking up old habits, this distant memory of distinctly owning a blog stole itself into my consciousness.

Reading what I have written, I marvel at how time passes by so stealthily, nay a noise.

So here I am again, having words manifest themselves from the brain through the nerves to the muscles to the screen. Random words with constant erasing of grammatical boo-boos and spelling errors-I'm convinced my England is going down the longkang.

But of it feels so good.

......

Would wearing one's heart on one's sleeves be better than being sensitive to others' feelings?

Breeze on the hill

Driving to work each morning, I always look forward to a special part of that daily pilgrimage-this slope upon which my mom's old car would sputter, groan and slow down to the chagrin of the fellow behind me.

Slowly but surely, the car would climb to the top, and from the top, the view of the skies is breathtaking to say the least, each day a little bit different - the colours would be splashed in multiple hues and the order of the clouds never the same.

And on top of that hill, I would linger as long as I could and it would remind me of how fortunate we are, and how beautiful the world is.

Experience is truly a guru of the master class, and I am a student of the world.

She is learning to be someone of whom she is proud of.

But what she is already, is reason enough to be glad.

A thought before slumber

Being a product of a Sekolah Kebangsaan, the presence of other types of schooling systems has never registered in my head.

The choice was to either go to a Chinese school or a Kebangsaan school. Although I do regret a little, the lack of the grasp of my mother tongue and language; growing up in a national school environment has enriched my life in ways impossible to imagine.

I am who I am, from the environment I grew up in, from the 'Tiang' game to 'Buaya' to 'Getah' and other one word creations to humor our young selves.

Now, being 24 and knowing personally, products of private or international institutions as well as people who send their children to those schools; I can see for myself first hand, the benefits of the alternate education system, the IP (international/private) schooling system.

Children from IP schools seem to be more opinionated and most importantly, have an opinion on things and this important trait can never be more underestimated. To teach children to think for themselves, to me is one gift that lasts a lifetime. We don't want a submissive society do we?

Of course not. Die lah if we have tyrants in the government. *ahem.

What about the quality of teachers?
Do IPs really have better teachers? I don't know about that and
I haven't been to school since 2005 but from the things we read and hear of with regards to national schools, it makes me nervous.
Rape cases in classrooms, children playing truant. I do know that times are a-changing and the children aren't what they were before.
It makes me want to pray that we would at least have enough good teachers to make positive imprints in children all over.


And oh, the YoYo-ness of the Malaysian education system? From English to Malay to English to Malay to English..haiyoh. Make up your mind please. And now, talk of abolishing UPSR and PMR. What next?

My plea to you is that even if you do make a decision, please stick to it long enough to really see the effects before starting on another round-about journey.

I'd like to make a poll and find out how many politicians, whose actions directly influences the lives of thousands of children actually send their children to national schools. Just to satisfy my curiosity.


Btw, IMHO, UPSR should stay but PMR may go. You do need some methods to measure students and UPSR allows us to gauge the levels of the children at the end of the Primary education, in order for us to better prepare them and find out the work cut out for us to guide them through the next phase of school.

And the best way to measure that is to have a STANDARD method of measurement. Logical right? But of course, it's different when you get to the pre-uni stage, that's why we have multiple methods to enter University.

Because grow up already mar-no need standardization all one..what for?

PMR? To me, it's not that important actually. Results should not be the only determinant on whether one goes on to do Science or Arts.

But then, the problem to me is not that we have too many examinations. The problem is we focus too much on excellence and strive solely towards that goal. With that, comes pressure-from parents, from school, from within children themselves. Because they know that excellence gets rewarded and failure equates punishment.

Maybe it's time to really focus our energy and spotlight on something else.
Like guiding children who need an extra hand and an understanding presence in this journey of school. We need to let our children in on a little secret, that it is okay to not do well in exams, so long as you did your best because the world is your oyster.
Like exploring the talents of our children and encouraging them, even if that means a string of alphabets in the report card instead of just A's.
Like celebrating children who overcame adversity to achieve what other people might perceive as 'mediocrity' but in actual fact, greatness of the spirit.

Why not we highlight children who embraces and epitomizes strong values? Like love, friendship, generosity, togetherness?
Why not we let such heroes remind ourselves and the children that what's important is just being true to yourself?

But I digress.

At this juncture, I really dread to think that one day, I would have to make that choice for my children, and I really want to do right by them. To give them the opportunities to fluorish.
But of course, if I have the money to spare that is, because IP don't come cheap you know.

Which is sad isn't it? When it is so difficult to make that decision. One that could make all the difference in the world.