tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41342627819085769212024-02-19T17:53:06.324-08:00Jen's little snippets of lifejenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-91767238067730558412012-10-17T18:30:00.000-07:002012-10-17T18:30:01.370-07:00Days of my life<span style="font-size: x-small;">Life release activities: - </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Sat, 29 <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sept 12 : Crickets <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Sun, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">30</span> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sept 12 : Baby frogs <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Sat,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> 6</span> Oct 12 : Crickets </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Sun,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> 7</span> Oct 12 : Fishes </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: x-small; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Sat,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> 13</span> Oct 12 : Crickets </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsVFUIWI3kUyOMWmq1BOpK_0kKyvo-fEd0FPZBLShiw5Dv8ADpurX3gEiaMgTsU0iFIE5GTrJHFKo8fYS6JNX0gauVeAk6hhlpVg4vxuKNSh7NEot0PIBvGCgYUBzKPiNPxicNlii9CB0/s1600/PA131717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsVFUIWI3kUyOMWmq1BOpK_0kKyvo-fEd0FPZBLShiw5Dv8ADpurX3gEiaMgTsU0iFIE5GTrJHFKo8fYS6JNX0gauVeAk6hhlpVg4vxuKNSh7NEot0PIBvGCgYUBzKPiNPxicNlii9CB0/s320/PA131717.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Sun,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> 14</span> Oct 12 : Baby frogs </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A wounded fish bought and released some time ago.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Little<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>prayer of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>heart: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-small;">May all beings without exception enjoy freedom and happiness and a life free from harm. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: x-small; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">May<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the wish-fulfilling jewel of the Bodhisattva grant me<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a life free from emotional distress, worries and obstacles.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Dear<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the Great Bodhisattva of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Infinite Compassion, </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I pray for your boundless love and immeasurable compassion to grant me with good health, </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-small;">so I can<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>practice the Dharma with the least of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>distractions, and to continue within my means to liberate all these </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-small;">helpless </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-small;">creatures from the Wheel of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Samsara.. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-69333384729663537952012-08-30T23:58:00.000-07:002012-08-30T23:58:00.233-07:00On the eve of Merdeka <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<em><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I wrote this entry on the eve of Merdeka, two years back<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and never bothered to post it<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>until today. </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">It never ceases to amaze me how time really flies.... <o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Today I multi-tasked between casually watching the evening Mandarin edition of local news over RTM2 and folding my pile of laundry at the living room sofa when the newscaster read a report about two Malay students who spoke in fluent Mandarin of their desires to further their studies in some<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>universities in China.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I admire these young kids who have, unlike a minority of certain shallow-minded people, chosen to look beyond race<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and religion<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to come to appreciate the language of other races<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in such fervor and enthusiasm. I am proud of them, really.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">It also reminded me of a former colleague from years back who is a US graduate who doesn’t speak Mandarin who when asked why simply blurted out `I don’t like Mandarin! ’ . I remember myself protesting silently as to why she didn’t even bother to exert a little effort to learn about her own culture and speak her own tongue when the very fact is she’s a true blood Chinese.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">But I digress.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">If only we as a nation and our leaders especially can stop talking about all the supremacy and special privileges accorded to certain groups at the same time finding solutions to put a stop instead of adding fuel to the small racial bush fires that have already been ignited sometimes ago (our leaders do that quite often, consciously or subconsciously, in their political speeches) and cease stressing a point as to imply race and religion being the prime dividing line between you and me, then we can certainly co-exist in peace and harmony, away from<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>all the deep hatred and persistently frustrating confrontation and bitter aggression which is slowly, if left attended, becoming the representation of who we exactly are to the world outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">My great grandmother of Bajau descent who had lived up to a ripe 104 years old and was a very devout Muslim who preached her children to practice simplicity in life and kindness and generosity to humanity. She and my late great grandfather who was a Buddhist lived harmoniously under one roof. (my father said cooking was done separately with my great grandmother using her own utensils to prepare her halal meals). On the other hand, her daughter i.e. my paternal grandmother in her life time was very faithful to <em>Tuah Peh</em> <em>Kong</em> (heavenly God) and worshipped <em>Guan Yin Ma</em> (the Compassionate Bodhisattva) whom I fondly remember as a very kind and gracious lady who liked to wear <em>kebayas</em> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and had more Malay friends to play <em>tokok</em> and <em>angtiam</em> (a card game) with than she had Chinese, and Malay neighbors and friends were among those who wept openly like they grieved over the passing of a loved one in the family, when they attended her funeral in the village.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">My great grandmother name was inscribed as <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Siti Jelih binti Datu Lidau</b> on her tombstone. Whereas my grandmother’s Muslim name was<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Siti binti Lim Hap</b>, as written in her birth cert.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Now my cousin Danny Affendy Teo who married a Christian woman but subsequently converted to Islam on his own will<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>has since pursued his faith with deep interest and spirituality, once earnestly discussing with us verses from the Holy Quaran, comparing certain chapters with the Holy Book Bible. When I dropped by in the small<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>town of Bongawan and asked what was the white flowing garbs hanging on a cloth line for, he told me it was a Muslim prayer outfit to be worn by him when performing prayers in the mosque.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During Chinese<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>New Year Muslim and Christian friends and relatives congregated at our village home in a spirit of celebration and togetherness and on Hari Raya we sometimes followed our cousins to the Muslim cemetery to pay our respect to our ancestor, and visited a Chinese relative who upon marrying a Muslim man had converted to the faith wearing the <em>tudung</em>, and this coupled with<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>her features and dark skin tone would have people mistaken her as a Malay woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">The issue of race was not in the mind of an old Malay woman, a friend of my father in the village, when she leaned down to give me a tender kiss on the forehead while I lied in the hospital bed<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>recovering from<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a car<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>accident<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>more than a decade<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Nor was race a barrier when an elderly Malay lady gave me a warm motherly hug just for showing her how to take the lift in a hospital to get to her grand daughter who was being warded on another floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Race and religion have never been a taboo subject for us, nor would it interfere with and inconvenience our daily routines in life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But maybe is the case for an exceptional few. Just maybe. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Or so I would like to believe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Just like a group of Indian, Malay, Kadazandusun and Chinese all having a cup of <em>kopi-o</em> in their favourite coffee shop with the Chinese <em>tauke</em> warmly engaging them in a friendly conversation about the weather, the price hike of a kilo of sugar or the result of a football match or<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>even dirty politics. Issues like race and religion were thrown to the dark back alley of the <em>kopitiam</em><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>because what matter to them is the rich aromatic smell of the <em>kopi-o kau</em> and the warmth companionship of friends of different<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>colors and faiths, the reason for them to keep coming back again, and again…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">To them, since when does the issue of race and religion becoming an issue, really?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">For me, it’s just this political mind-game conceived by certain unscrupulous quarters with some ulterior motives in order to stir a little chaos in the lives of the inter-racial community as well<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>as to garner popularity votes<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>so as to win the big race to gain the ultimate power and influence over the entire nation..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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A son of my cousin, a Muslim convert, `<em>merenjis</em> <em>air bunga mawar'</em> on the `<em>pusara</em>' of my late great grandmother .</div>
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<em>Papa</em> & aunt from Ranau with her daughters at the `<em>pusara'</em> two years back. </div>
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My late great grandmother Siti Jelih binti Datu Lidau </div>
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My late grandmother (on the front) Siti Binti Lim Hap, </div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"> and with her grandchildren.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">P/S : On the eve of merdeka, I am recovering from food poisoning (the constant episodes of vomiting and diarrhea have made me ponder about<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>suffering and the importance of good health and how we normally only come to treasure it only when we are losing it, even for momentary time <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>period of two days), but my spirits are high and I have things and little goals to accomplish ahead and I am not letting the small discomforts to stop me from radiating positive energy from within. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a happy person right this moment (smile). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Happy Merdeka Day to my beloved homeland, you have so many flaws<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and too much negativity<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>have been uttered about you, but I love you nonetheless….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-24926877426164836462012-08-01T07:45:00.000-07:002012-07-31T21:54:59.783-07:00A seminar , memory loss and a thought on retirement<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I was in Shangri-La’s Tanjung Aru Resorts & Spa towards the end of December 2010 to attend a two days seminar on risk management, a subject <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>which is quite new to me and a skill that I have yet to apply in my area of work, hence there was an eagerness and anticipation to want to learn as much as I could from the seminar. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">While I was in the function room, the speaker, a Sarawakian of Bidayuh descent, suggested that we drew the curtain which revealed the sea view outside .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He commented that it was such<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a waste that a breathtaking scenery such as this were blocked from view for<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the participants inside the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">While adjourning for lunch time, a friendly lady greeted me and initiated a conversation from investment and banking to food. I would have never been able to engage someone in a lively chat like that. At one point, on being asked a question,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I struggled to remember the term `distributors’ but failed, hence embarrassingly covering up my abrupt memory loss with <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>`retailers’, albeit in the business world these words<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>were two different definitions from each other.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">It was drizzling in the afternoon after lunch and as I turned my sight towards the view outside revealed by the drawn curtain, I saw a man riding a water scooter, cruising <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in the turbulent water of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the sea.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Sometimes, people needs that kind of adventurous<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>pursuit to really find fulfillment in life, or perhaps a sense of liberation, in an attempt to seek revival of the mind body and soul I guess. I was wondering whether he would somehow find serenity in the rough waves of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ocean.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">But as I looked out, the sea view and the drizzles did<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>invoke a sense of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>calm in me, a welcome <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>reprieve from having to focus on the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>content of the course being delivered by the speaker.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The following day during lunch break I took a seat at a table where a former colleague was seated. I had not met this person for more than 14 years since I left the firm which I worked as a junior whereas he, in a senior position in another department. He is now attached to a prominent group of company which I reckon must be in senior managerial position.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I then looked at him and smiled and he <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>reciprocated while commenting that I had a bigger bowl of soup as appetizer (I had earlier requested for vege meal) but never really acknowledged the fact that he knew me. I on the other hand was shy and a little awkward to introduce myself in the presence of other diners. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps, just like me, his memory was also failing him? </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">But <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>once in a while <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it’s <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>fine <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to wrap myself in a cloak of non-identity, like this. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Upon the conclusion of the seminar, while waiting for my sister to pick me up at the main entrance, I greeted the speaker who was coming toward<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>my direction and he told me that he was catching an evening flight to go back to KL later to Penang to conduct another seminar. I casually mentioned to him that he seemed like a busy person to which he replied not really as he is now retired from permanent employment he actually has more time to pursue things that he would otherwise unable<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to engage during his full time employment.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I concurred with his statement, adding `its ok to be busy as long as you like what you are doing.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like this speaker, in his late fifties he is an experienced and accomplished individual both in his personal and professional endeavours , having himself authored 18 management<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>books <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and appears as a regular speaker, facilitator and panel chairman at various public forums, workshops and conferences, locally and abroad, yet humble, tactful and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>thoughtful in approach. I have earlier bought a copy of his books and he was kind enough to present me with another copy of his motivation series for free.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">As he boarded a waiting cab and waved me goodbye,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d wonder<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the kind of life that would greet me <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>when the time came for me to finally approach the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>years of retirement..</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I’d only hope<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it would be as fulfilling and enlightening as what the speaker has imparted to me throughout the seminar.</span></span></div>
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jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-45779747309676288182012-06-12T18:30:00.000-07:002012-07-31T21:49:15.231-07:00A Letter for Nabo Jie2<span style="font-size: x-small;">An email written some times ago.. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Dear Sis,</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I have days ago browsed through online news portals for a multi-national corporation and came across your name and position in one </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">of the articles. I am a little surprised yet happy for you that you are actually holding the position of Head Of Marketing for Malaysia, for I initially thought that you were the Marketing Director for KL’s operations only. Congratulations wow! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">But as much as we are happy for your achievement (I have shared the news with Bulat and all) we are also worried of the immense pressures that come along for being the country’s Head of Marketing in a big multinational corporation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">And with looming deadlines and sales targets and other assignments I believe the responsibilities won’t be easy for you, which we could detect during your trips home recently. Ah Chai and Bulat (and even Jimmy) said they could see and feel the strain you have been under and it was being reflected on your face (which prompted me to write this letter). Even though I was not able to detect any I chose to trust their instincts instead. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Just feel like writing to tell you that as much as we are happy for you, we are also equally concerned of the weight of responsibilities that you have to shoulder , and the effect it would have on your general well being, if any.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">As much as you can, please try to find time to seek a little relaxation for yourself. Put away the iphone or laptop for a while and immerse yourself for some quiet moments with your loved ones, reading or even exercising or cooking . Try to pause for few minutes in between your work , and take some deep breaths in between. It will help soothe your nerves a little. I tried this method before. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Please do not worry about us. We know how to take care of ourselves, and babu and papa especially. The least we can do these days is to try to make their lives as happy and comfortable in their twilight years , even though we can’t spend as much time as we can with them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">As for me, I am only drawing a decent salary, which is the very basic pay for an accountant, and without much perks. I learn to not compare with my peers for if I do, it will make me feel a little down. But this job is at the moment stress-free and I can devout some time to focus on improving my health (I am easily tired and with back pains these days), and other spiritual stuff to help me get back on the track of living a peaceful life, which I am striving to attain these days. Work is just a tool for me to earn money to pay the bills. I am contemplating on leaving the job once I have enough savings to get a small break before finding a job which will offer a better pay. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">You may say I am not ambitious but each of us have different goals in life, and each live according to her/his own ideal and purpose.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">I hope with the loan that I have taken up recently, I will start saving money for retirement and right now my monthly income is only sufficient to cover the housing and personal loans, and once the housing loan is fully settled, which I hope in this two/three years time, I may consider getting a car. But right now the car has been and is still faithfully serving its purpose without major issues so its not a problem for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Please do not buy so many expensive clothes for me I do not need them. I appreciate the thoughts but really I am already happy to get recycled clothes/bags from you. Instead save the money for Tze Ern’s education or your own retirement fund. It will not be cheap to see her go through college or universities. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Being a practicing Buddhist, I have little need and want these days and learn to be contented with what I have. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I may sound grumpy and have been rambling but this is my genuine concern for you, and that of the family too, we do care and pray for you and hope that you take care of yourself, and that at this stage you may try to initiate within yourself to seek and add a little spiritual meaning to your life while getting your ambitions and aspirations fulfilled amidst the cruel rat race environment in the competitive metropolitan city we called KL. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">With love,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Apak.</span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrP3Sds9ylITuOMjDwfpTn_jNxekUQDLXuBcS4ys-Sde7XFClICXP_T_Uk-P94Ifjc2RjS3ai9Ag2ScbhEBrMRWmll_6ITq2JUBvUC1qNHMEKlRZLE9MS0KN95JbuvO0l_kTON5Z_1PB8/s1600/Elephant_friend_girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrP3Sds9ylITuOMjDwfpTn_jNxekUQDLXuBcS4ys-Sde7XFClICXP_T_Uk-P94Ifjc2RjS3ai9Ag2ScbhEBrMRWmll_6ITq2JUBvUC1qNHMEKlRZLE9MS0KN95JbuvO0l_kTON5Z_1PB8/s320/Elephant_friend_girl.jpg" width="231" /></a>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-67218119133691131092012-04-24T01:49:00.003-07:002012-04-25T02:43:02.437-07:00Through their eyes<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The day that was 12/02/12</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was a Sunday , I drove for about 15 minutes<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>on a narrow road thriving with potholes, before turning to a familiar junction with a signboard pointing<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to the location of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a Chinese temple, and drove for a further short distance to finally reach my destination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I parked my car and took out two huge plastic bags containing some fishes which I wanted to release into the small river, nodding and smiling to the two Timorese men working on some scrap metal as I crossed an old bridge to go to the other side where a handful of wooden houses <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>were seen perched by the riverbank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is the place I often go to for fang seng (life release) activities, mostly by myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I often ask for permission to step on their properties, lest they are in knowledge of any trespassing law, just in case. But Malaysians are such peace loving and friendly people that you can hardly hear of any incidents relating to legal suits that would drain you of your financial means, as we often hear in the west.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being alone, it always brings a sense of comfort in me to see their smiling faces albeit with a bit of inquisitiveness at my intrusion, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and my intention of buying then releasing the lives of the creatures is something these folks would<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>not be able to comprehend.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Only politicians</span> <span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">and wealthy individuals will get themselves embroiled in legal cases. The majority of ordinary folks like us would be too engrossed in<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the daily mundane works that we would eschew any opportunity<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to redeem our pride and maybe a chance to gain some financial rewards by means of embarking on legal actions of any sorts, even if the opportunities <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>glaringly present itself<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in front of us. </span></span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Plus, I believe, most of us don't have the financial means <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>anyway.<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Or so I thought.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">While I squat on the riverbank releasing the fishes, the kids from the houses were standing on the bridge looking down gleefully for what perhaps to them a refreshing sight, and they seemed to truly revel in the <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>opportunity to bask in the camaraderie <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>innocence<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>playfulness <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>with their <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>peers. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Once,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the landlord of the houses, an overweight lady wearing some gold bracelets <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>on her arms who came to collect rents was seen berating the kids for standing and playing on the wooden bridge, `it would ruin the bridge and I would not have money to repair it’, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>she shouted in her deep Kadazan accent, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>while the adults who peeked from outside their windows just looked on helplessly, feeling somewhat a little oppressed and discontented on how the Landlord in her condescending tone seemed to clearly emphasize her status of being the boss around here, at that moment inevitably relegating their ranks to that of temporary occupants, at her whims and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>whilst their <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>finances allow them. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I clambered up the rather steep river bank once I was done and moved towards the kids still standing on the bridge, their excitement were laced with a little anticipation, knowing I would probably hand them some sweet treats. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I whipped out my digital camera and asked them to pose for photos and they eagerly obliged, thereafter hurriedly approached me to take a peek while I checked on the images on the lens. These children later scurried behind me when I left for the car and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>patiently waited while I retrieved some packages of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>sweets from the car trunk and distributed to them. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Their polite utterance of <em>`terima kasih’</em><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and the look of delight and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>pure joy on <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>their faces quickly<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>dispersed any sense of unease on my part for having this Timorese adult, the father of one the kids <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I presumed, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>monitored from behind, even taking a closer look into my car trunk, lest I happened to be a child abductor masquerading as a sweet-talking woman to lure these kids into my menacing trap.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">He didn’t<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>know that<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>these kids, as innocent as they were with their tender looks and heart melting smiles, were in fact the ones who have unconsciously set up an imaginary trap, and I was being the one <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>so irresistibly lured into it.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">For through their eyes I thought I could learn to see the world with a little less scepticism, making living a little more tolerant, and every problem encountered just seems a<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>little more manageable .</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">At that point of connection, these <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>kids <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>did <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>just <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to me.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">There is always some valuable little lessons to pick up from every times I venture out of my comfortable dwelling for this life-release activity, and to reach out to some strangers<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>like these.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Verdana", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">It’s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>always a soul-enriching, energy-shifting <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>experience for me... <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-18337619413133001882012-03-15T18:47:00.002-07:002012-03-16T01:57:54.418-07:00The rain and a story about aging<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR4VpW-ffBzOELRH-6IWSFAz7XSkJPCs6mjCYz9_Wtp8JOmQ5slL7ZJnXHGf-yyaHjuOwmtpk6Ho68ptvTyzFe9YFZ7LyvpfB_pAwFo9Qrp4lU_dygFaAa9ZTq0Kul6np4jEWNl0s6pF4/s1600/time.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 211px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5720414355011773330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR4VpW-ffBzOELRH-6IWSFAz7XSkJPCs6mjCYz9_Wtp8JOmQ5slL7ZJnXHGf-yyaHjuOwmtpk6Ho68ptvTyzFe9YFZ7LyvpfB_pAwFo9Qrp4lU_dygFaAa9ZTq0Kul6np4jEWNl0s6pF4/s320/time.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">The day that was : 8th March 2012.<br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">It’s a quarter past three in the afternoon as I type. And outside it’s raining.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">I take a peek from the glass window at my work place and watch the rain pouring down, like a deluge. And the sound of droplets raining onto the ground can be intimidating, it’s as if to sound off warning of impending gloom, like a flash flood, which is a frequent occurrence here at my place.<br /></span><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">But casting aside this thought and simply allowing myself to indulge in the sight and sound of water cascading down to the ground is such pure bliss, I feel as if I am immediately brought to a safe corner of my own, away from judgement and criticism and self deprecating thoughts, where now only a sense of calm and tranquillity permeate my being. </span></div><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">Today in the midst of completing tasks at work I surfed the internet aimlessly, just to draw some inspirational words in a bid to dispel these feelings of pessimism and morbidity which, without me noticing, has managed to sinisterly creep in while my focus veered out of its course in those few unguarded moments of carelessness and stupidity.<br /></span><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">I came across a piece of writing about a 40 years old photographer who took photographs of aging animals. Its a noble attempt on her part to confront her own fear of aging , having had to care for her mother who is suffering from Alzheimer’s disease besides the pain of dealing with her increasing state of decline and vulnerability . It was such a beautiful and touching story. And reading her moving account of how animals, just like us humans are able to experience pain and fear as well as pleasure and contentment, and how they have to ultimately deal with the inevitable – death.<br /></span></div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">I am truly inspired by this story, I do believe death in itself, and the fact that we are mere mortals do not perpetuate this sense of morbidity in us, but how we adopt our own attitudes towards dealing with the inevitable are essentially the key to ensure that, in time to come, we are able to equip ourselves with the right mentality to embrace aging and mortality with a sense of grace and dignity.<br /></span></div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">That evening, the woman’s story tucked at my heart strings, and it became a rope to reel me in...<br /></div></span>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-37354328502728501942012-03-06T22:27:00.002-08:002012-03-07T02:47:07.067-08:00These kids<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTWF46Bw9YbkxIu9_cO8xVZ78Xu6N09RRsDv-Aao3M7Mt7idcPZkTv9TMwq26foOemRCMBSOS7MTG92yh0JGGJgE2nJQnWyYynUjxd-WmqMN4h1JOcVOzozXvj6iXgd0SOFAoNm5jNK-A/s1600/P1030722.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618686437835649298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTWF46Bw9YbkxIu9_cO8xVZ78Xu6N09RRsDv-Aao3M7Mt7idcPZkTv9TMwq26foOemRCMBSOS7MTG92yh0JGGJgE2nJQnWyYynUjxd-WmqMN4h1JOcVOzozXvj6iXgd0SOFAoNm5jNK-A/s400/P1030722.JPG" /></a> <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">
<br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">In a few more years, these kids will outgrow me, develop their own unique personalities and blend into their own circle of friends, of which I might not be playing a part in. They will have their own share of stories of learning, finding love and taking chances, discovering their potentials whilst exploring the big wide world outside.
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<br />Within their circle, I guess I will be the one from outside looking in.
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<br />But I hope I can still offer my two-cents, as and when they need it.
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<br />In the mean time, they are just these innocent little faces willing to sit on my lap, occasionally whining , occasionally chatting a little about their daily kiddy adventures, all while savoring a little tender loving care from within my embrace.
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<br />They need it, for now.. </span>
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<br />Some random photos: -
<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOevWFoTtYTi529IFJJVBkunNHDZLUDDGB-LE0Nw2kkkCnqCf3BYlgvxEMpLvzf-El99yRDJVNwbb3Iky6PviRurdhGYEFTDDnawLGCAkmoDtRzN2ce0m1oKNQMcFHiNUqa2OGn8m3Gk/s1600/PA110008.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIkq_8o-YU_QXhYG7Qq35l4dPjmJx2mJsuu3TStPG_FQwjDD3QVmQ7WOdCLN1OR79fA1BlgzL7IYoJjh8PAx7yIx9lnjVFVF6xzxRR4WRsMAtvFojW0EIXZWbzUK-pAFnmclOXVOBoDZE/s1600/Picture+027.jpg"></a>
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<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR0GYbELSfG0He9fgIdxMjteWGSOfHPXhsuhSVo7pQ1z0x3cTUf0GeDVVJDMCneE_5FnPIQOxroPSA3po0ORyqcrh_0DL_WymXSC4EfaP4l6RRcS0QhD5XsZmQEkKgjEARTUtwnRsXIP4/s1600/100_1824.JPG"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619548633756305074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR0GYbELSfG0He9fgIdxMjteWGSOfHPXhsuhSVo7pQ1z0x3cTUf0GeDVVJDMCneE_5FnPIQOxroPSA3po0ORyqcrh_0DL_WymXSC4EfaP4l6RRcS0QhD5XsZmQEkKgjEARTUtwnRsXIP4/s400/100_1824.JPG" /></span></a> <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">Tze Ern as a toddler in 2006.
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizFku9c9rZcaq6gaVWMl5uwcHLkHY4yuXfVbH6S3_om4zgECpdN_L83q5kZBj73uFeroaOw6BGzfM8MN9vJ-8Q1jYBDLx7TpaQyNGCVWEjsh7Y7fav6ea1BhMDJFQU3Mfvs2evqTC3H-A/s1600/100_3630.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717101825865356626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizFku9c9rZcaq6gaVWMl5uwcHLkHY4yuXfVbH6S3_om4zgECpdN_L83q5kZBj73uFeroaOw6BGzfM8MN9vJ-8Q1jYBDLx7TpaQyNGCVWEjsh7Y7fav6ea1BhMDJFQU3Mfvs2evqTC3H-A/s400/100_3630.JPG" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Yee Zhing
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<br /><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"></p></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIkq_8o-YU_QXhYG7Qq35l4dPjmJx2mJsuu3TStPG_FQwjDD3QVmQ7WOdCLN1OR79fA1BlgzL7IYoJjh8PAx7yIx9lnjVFVF6xzxRR4WRsMAtvFojW0EIXZWbzUK-pAFnmclOXVOBoDZE/s1600/Picture+027.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620529892806953058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIkq_8o-YU_QXhYG7Qq35l4dPjmJx2mJsuu3TStPG_FQwjDD3QVmQ7WOdCLN1OR79fA1BlgzL7IYoJjh8PAx7yIx9lnjVFVF6xzxRR4WRsMAtvFojW0EIXZWbzUK-pAFnmclOXVOBoDZE/s400/Picture+027.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">Tze Ern and Yee Zhing, in 2010.
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6HpiRCbZUyzs_RhYV9N6jPJQ23AUbFXPcfOcHEJezsNvkBQ4LSGabeaR3Tflu64EBAR07XAYsQ7UW1-ekX87DMNY7kg7npVVdIB8Lom8hNn_sUR3sEMVgv9GyPbvQhRHfAR5acIwfgb8/s1600/Picture+061.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716992972579011986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6HpiRCbZUyzs_RhYV9N6jPJQ23AUbFXPcfOcHEJezsNvkBQ4LSGabeaR3Tflu64EBAR07XAYsQ7UW1-ekX87DMNY7kg7npVVdIB8Lom8hNn_sUR3sEMVgv9GyPbvQhRHfAR5acIwfgb8/s400/Picture+061.jpg" /></a> Tze Ern in Shang Villa, PJ, getting ready to school, Dec 2011.
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<br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpxh3fJhI8EiHxH19cA5WQEuvOMLSu5WNZh8DtPK1Fc6ZnpaO0qFvwYWA7PlaKxb2EKszDJy18f-4PWpU9sGHtI3QyZ2Z1dJjJ4GBDsmLOTDjhU49Z_yZZbglQCyQeGdyzyQBn3QTtKg/s1600/Picture+059.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716995022628325010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpxh3fJhI8EiHxH19cA5WQEuvOMLSu5WNZh8DtPK1Fc6ZnpaO0qFvwYWA7PlaKxb2EKszDJy18f-4PWpU9sGHtI3QyZ2Z1dJjJ4GBDsmLOTDjhU49Z_yZZbglQCyQeGdyzyQBn3QTtKg/s400/Picture+059.jpg" /></a> Tze Ern looking chic and trendy in Uniqlo Department Store,1U, Dec 2011. </p>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBETSHhYEhel1OL4EbhHI9K9FxU0PPwW_ViiLul7ie1DsyEh9alJkLrnoTtxN05KWupqcfxfc5MV8AQZVIRH9RZRoCk57x9boxb_xnjO342jlfZwKQZWb-S_fL9qvy7FY5jExv5E3S8TY/s1600/Picture+068.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716993614337527042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBETSHhYEhel1OL4EbhHI9K9FxU0PPwW_ViiLul7ie1DsyEh9alJkLrnoTtxN05KWupqcfxfc5MV8AQZVIRH9RZRoCk57x9boxb_xnjO342jlfZwKQZWb-S_fL9qvy7FY5jExv5E3S8TY/s400/Picture+068.jpg" /></a> Yee Zhing and her <em>koko</em> some time in 2009.
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<br /><p></span></p><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">The way they were...
<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjixLDZD8C0vj34wyUkjMSyjifoc0hyNukuwu2dPpIYXrJ7YFkB0C5dzJ-J6Xba4Pb7d0NeYHCaKUDbQfh7ABMQVbv-BHSFX4dUfivM1H3WTaTLKlRwcagPJAJuJo07rlxE8Zt6c8XyZtE/s1600/L1000795.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619547406287029474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjixLDZD8C0vj34wyUkjMSyjifoc0hyNukuwu2dPpIYXrJ7YFkB0C5dzJ-J6Xba4Pb7d0NeYHCaKUDbQfh7ABMQVbv-BHSFX4dUfivM1H3WTaTLKlRwcagPJAJuJo07rlxE8Zt6c8XyZtE/s400/L1000795.JPG" /></a> <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">Cun2 and Wen2 way back in 1998.
<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFhztTs7fglR76F6y5GfJ6cMnC9emDgO0Lfxz-TnjMEXPYvFoT80HeDCGemFyGHC-iuD1-sVsMsNxGZeavn-4VqRenHuPYiV4lcGZNuDVyGZhkBsMA9YlBBbqVLuEGOixYvPQmp2_fRO0/s1600/198667_204298976291604_100001345085303_497419_1655378_n.jpg"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 197px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642479234074272402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFhztTs7fglR76F6y5GfJ6cMnC9emDgO0Lfxz-TnjMEXPYvFoT80HeDCGemFyGHC-iuD1-sVsMsNxGZeavn-4VqRenHuPYiV4lcGZNuDVyGZhkBsMA9YlBBbqVLuEGOixYvPQmp2_fRO0/s400/198667_204298976291604_100001345085303_497419_1655378_n.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"> Cun2 and her toy gun.
<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNmVjs3oeN7mAzMi4_4psxMiczsrgWfO35uUTD54ueAxwZuYy0ZzZ2SZtbKJSdXl6wb0HWrgzh8fqRkRVTjmUavxn7rN-c_rsQUfa74aS05MfixcTevn9wzKEPtFgliTcxbs1j0jsFg4/s1600/167368_149415491779953_100001345085303_249618_2617898_n.jpg"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 332px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642479120604943138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNmVjs3oeN7mAzMi4_4psxMiczsrgWfO35uUTD54ueAxwZuYy0ZzZ2SZtbKJSdXl6wb0HWrgzh8fqRkRVTjmUavxn7rN-c_rsQUfa74aS05MfixcTevn9wzKEPtFgliTcxbs1j0jsFg4/s400/167368_149415491779953_100001345085303_249618_2617898_n.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"> <span style="font-size:85%;">Cun Cun and Kewei.....
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_xoRyA7MJQeDNd0cOsNUbBmtF2ZC4ELPYzFN6XUTdKJxrCvDSV0KREM07_Ytu34agcxOQntcfDZ8Su1UE1nGmnKq-P6JtqNlpj3M_Rq1zD72qdTDXg_NZoYaX-mR9R2N3KJhWswkoP4w/s1600/bukau+060.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717099802203077442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_xoRyA7MJQeDNd0cOsNUbBmtF2ZC4ELPYzFN6XUTdKJxrCvDSV0KREM07_Ytu34agcxOQntcfDZ8Su1UE1nGmnKq-P6JtqNlpj3M_Rq1zD72qdTDXg_NZoYaX-mR9R2N3KJhWswkoP4w/s400/bukau+060.jpg" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In 2006. I really like this photo. Through their eyes I see a spark of the innocence of youth, pure and untainted... </span>
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<br /><p></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJLklTtQM2qqHliHNpGq9VqexOlaAUK99oranF6T_3x4ccNP_loUxkrxq-QgrZAIuF3fgFkrKQj5adbIdWDkBopoQ8TcMkxffXgUZJSBiu-NMVOgL9WTBvcaA74LXNdVw9_AhSQR2-BoE/s1600/Picture+070.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716994653546178306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJLklTtQM2qqHliHNpGq9VqexOlaAUK99oranF6T_3x4ccNP_loUxkrxq-QgrZAIuF3fgFkrKQj5adbIdWDkBopoQ8TcMkxffXgUZJSBiu-NMVOgL9WTBvcaA74LXNdVw9_AhSQR2-BoE/s400/Picture+070.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">As they are today.
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<br />jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-65637191324353398472012-02-14T18:02:00.002-08:002012-02-17T00:18:31.641-08:00Prayer<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1a3DhdpAAd353yWMbP7YHuD4qRoJmieEtGvrNncqVVIV_yAs9pNzUCFZCD_khIrTblwl6ZTYphsFnr7KJh_m7M4Jlh-mSoQGpUAKtSWbymqA6tYPUXHfq4rJpaFcqIs1paUrTsjQpV8/s1600/Picture+049.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709225931739338978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1a3DhdpAAd353yWMbP7YHuD4qRoJmieEtGvrNncqVVIV_yAs9pNzUCFZCD_khIrTblwl6ZTYphsFnr7KJh_m7M4Jlh-mSoQGpUAKtSWbymqA6tYPUXHfq4rJpaFcqIs1paUrTsjQpV8/s400/Picture+049.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1d7foRCBLFbe-ELz4hn-LB2_FcQksSCKMmYt-VPy7FuMvIUZU5_Fi4xjKebf3tqacCHC_uEIQwPAJE_ihkazV29bAbFaKAE_nNOOSi5BJdOEzvrGvPtEj3PaNXzkRhFtAkWqa6OSDOK4/s1600/Picture+067.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709254201788646786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1d7foRCBLFbe-ELz4hn-LB2_FcQksSCKMmYt-VPy7FuMvIUZU5_Fi4xjKebf3tqacCHC_uEIQwPAJE_ihkazV29bAbFaKAE_nNOOSi5BJdOEzvrGvPtEj3PaNXzkRhFtAkWqa6OSDOK4/s400/Picture+067.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Just as a bird finds its renewed freedom,<br />so do I seek to renew the conviction of my faith, through this little prayer,<br />may I gain liberation from deep-seated hatred, worries and ill health,<br />may I dissolve all vengeance, vanquish intruding evil influences to finally find peace </span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">to this </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">unsettled heart,<br />may I dissolve all my negative karmas in my previous and current lifetimes, </span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">may I cultivate compassion and learn to spread loving kindness to all sentient beings from </span><br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">above , below, near and afar,<br />and to one day find liberation from samsara by being reborn in Pure Buddha Land..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-2199393879815855742012-01-05T17:16:00.000-08:002012-01-06T01:34:15.023-08:00A year has passed<span style="font-family:times new roman;">The day that was : 3rd January 2012<br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">As cliché as it may sound, I am amazed at how time yet again executed its bullet-train speed and whizzed past me just like that.<br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I didn’t even have time to sit back and analyse at what I have done and things that have yet to be accomplished for the past year and today here I am, back to work after a few days break and the first thing that greeted me was a slew of outstanding assignments and deadlines to be met.<br /></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">It’s left me with literally no time to ponder about the past nor take a little peak into the future.<br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Perhaps this is how things should work. You just need to focus on the presence and the rest will slowly but re-assuredly fall into place.<br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></span></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">But a quick rewind would afford me little recollection of any personal endeavour worthy of a mention.<br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">The past year, I have sold my brand new blackberry hand phone, given to me as a gift from someone, for RM1,400, and used up all the money in a mere few months to save some precious tiny lives (some other sentient, fragile little beings which we humans tend to take for granted).<br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></span></span></span></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">It might appear trivial but I found solace from this little effort.<br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I have also earned a few hundreds from selling some of my new clothes in Mudah.com, an online selling site and would use the money for the same purpose.<br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">When I first started this blog, I only wanted to put down my thoughts in here as a diary to serve me at times when memories fail me. I honestly did not know what a blog was until my niece wrote me an email in April 2009 while I was in a foreign country saying she had started a blog and asked me to check out some photos she had put in there during the Xing Ming festival ( the only time I had missed the annual activity with closed family members, and I had missed home dearly) and it was only when I came back here when the thought came to me that I might as well start a blog of my own.<br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Now it has been more than 18 months since my first posting. How just time flies (sigh).<br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I have shared this blog with a few closed friends including family members but they seemed to be always too occupied and have been engrossed in dealing with what’s real and more important in lives.<br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">And I understand.<br /></div></span></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">It’s ok I told one of them (a close friend who seemed apologetic, smiles) for I seldom have the time to sit down here and write also. This is after all a personal journal which only serves my purpose. I have a face book account but it remains inactive up till these days.<br /></div><br /><div align="justify"><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I still prefer and am happy to receive an email from friends, for it seems to me these are more sincere, and personal, rather than some FB postings.<br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">A friend sent an email and SMS message from abroad today saying she would send some money to repay the amount that she owed me, expressing her gratitude for extending help when she was in need. She asked to please do not hesitate to approach her should I need a favour from her in the future, and has in fact remitted more than what she owed to show her gratitude. This gesture has pretty much warmed my heart. I reassured her I would put the money to good use.<br /></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">For the coming year, I pray for good health so I can continue to work for a living. And a happy frame of mind. The past year has seen me slipping in and out from unhappy dwellings ,once too often indulging my self in thoughts which would only serve to diminish my self-esteem, and ultimately, self- worth .<br /><br /><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">And to love and give, in whatever small way I can.<br /><br /><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I would take a shot of courage and make one decision that may forever change the course of my path, hence my life.<br /><br /><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">But it has never been easy.<br /><br /><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Let’s just see how much more time I may need to finally reach that decision.<br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:times new roman;">In the mean time, I just want to live in the now.<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2SabeyerJ17edNKjQNVke7suHXNREH5d-U0ZNgVE04TOdR5mcBtlqxo_-9pGUGJXLEW41vZAnYD_zXxmTN2g8UjysRk8hL9OO7-65a8GgkvdgP7WytpHkQ8T01HEUcyl0850_4i6ldAo/s1600/Picture+039.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694423681539859810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2SabeyerJ17edNKjQNVke7suHXNREH5d-U0ZNgVE04TOdR5mcBtlqxo_-9pGUGJXLEW41vZAnYD_zXxmTN2g8UjysRk8hL9OO7-65a8GgkvdgP7WytpHkQ8T01HEUcyl0850_4i6ldAo/s400/Picture+039.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> In 2011, I let go of this thing..<br /><br /><p></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbAiW2oqfL0HqJSDiuDDKTCLOnHiZZUwpVfE1Zyb8zd38q5WgPW2DWDiXfuSZ2czYXLw8uzmvHmUEodXrfhRDQFC58mQVTdksk0ryoEzAqaoIDuduEfdsGQN5CAVsOIqGzH3u7DoJlfOk/s1600/P5221147.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693688372703714674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbAiW2oqfL0HqJSDiuDDKTCLOnHiZZUwpVfE1Zyb8zd38q5WgPW2DWDiXfuSZ2czYXLw8uzmvHmUEodXrfhRDQFC58mQVTdksk0ryoEzAqaoIDuduEfdsGQN5CAVsOIqGzH3u7DoJlfOk/s400/P5221147.JPG" /></a> <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">and a few others.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil4qZPOCpgCNZMiUOkHmxmuCn-TtigOL8DddeevNfS3Rd71oTEJtiu11iHWTZUywrTEJ_okfihTN4UaMqoIpa6QBBCb_B39QIpLitW_An4exBvJ4u7MDMi99xga1xVk6amHS_jYApajxc/s1600/Picture+034.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694420662906799090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil4qZPOCpgCNZMiUOkHmxmuCn-TtigOL8DddeevNfS3Rd71oTEJtiu11iHWTZUywrTEJ_okfihTN4UaMqoIpa6QBBCb_B39QIpLitW_An4exBvJ4u7MDMi99xga1xVk6amHS_jYApajxc/s400/Picture+034.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">In 2012, I ushered in the new year by taking part in an activity like this.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaxUCpUPIwgxieaHT0UdWSY1kN4mQ6cR3z9jtWkrG1P9nnhJox-qH-wYa2xvYnQ2ZtCA_ZxSEdMfwlxS18DNjklgWE4qVTfgIWO9Pu0AHJioAJxvYejfNs43VKb6pPxtiTEoJEEGEmuWI/s1600/DSCF4608.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694079833845843682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaxUCpUPIwgxieaHT0UdWSY1kN4mQ6cR3z9jtWkrG1P9nnhJox-qH-wYa2xvYnQ2ZtCA_ZxSEdMfwlxS18DNjklgWE4qVTfgIWO9Pu0AHJioAJxvYejfNs43VKb6pPxtiTEoJEEGEmuWI/s400/DSCF4608.JPG" /></a> <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">A random photo of a dear colleague and me who dressed up as Cleopatra for our Annual Dinner Costume Night at the end of the year.</span></p><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></span></div></span></span></span><br /><div align="justify"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="justify"></div></span></span></span></span></span></span></div></span></span></div></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-49808119389747187412011-11-24T20:06:00.000-08:002011-11-25T00:43:12.381-08:00Free<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg33oOhENOJbEn_FhjPZ4yRtd7VNgAu7UbPOZSFu-wcGmq9U1WlB4P4VoHZXvwCg9L7jKAFUAhuqYetI8cJqzBLFzwvY2Pwg1Q7R30kr01nCjzvkmu5Nkag3QqLfVR6TNlJU2Ts0E-mjTE/s1600/The%252BEnglish%252BLavender%252BHarvest%252BDkGAMJWRnAel.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678850205490134850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg33oOhENOJbEn_FhjPZ4yRtd7VNgAu7UbPOZSFu-wcGmq9U1WlB4P4VoHZXvwCg9L7jKAFUAhuqYetI8cJqzBLFzwvY2Pwg1Q7R30kr01nCjzvkmu5Nkag3QqLfVR6TNlJU2Ts0E-mjTE/s320/The%252BEnglish%252BLavender%252BHarvest%252BDkGAMJWRnAel.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">Bring her to this field of exuberant color and grandeur,<br />let her hum a medley of joyous tunes,<br />as she darts across the narrow lane in warm uncontained glee,<br />leaving a trail of crumpled leaves and rattling twigs,<br />worry being systemically crushed beneath her soft rhythmic footsteps.<br /><br />As dawn descends,<br />tiny points of twinkling shiny light,<br />delicately decorate this canopy of dreamy heaven,<br />she gazes upon the illuminating moon,<br />and marvels at the eloquent beauty of nature,<br />is this wishful thinking? She asks.<br />now in a faraway place,<br />her heart sees a Neverland of promises,<br />where dreams will be realized,<br />and she yearns to fall among the star..<br /><br />REALITY needs to momentarily stay clear from her territory,<br />just for this little while, she pleads softly,<br />where she is all alone,<br />gingerly cocooning herself in a land of make believe,<br />and smiling her warm glowing smile,<br />she’ll spend some tender loving moments,<br />with her once too often neglected inner child…<br /></span>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-31752666480859926952011-11-03T20:12:00.000-07:002011-11-03T22:23:28.304-07:00An evening with Royal Sabah Turf Club<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Way back a year ago.<br /><br />The day that was : 1 October 2010<br /><br />I was having a stressful day at work for missing an important official document and have searched high and low yet of no avail. Several calls were made to ensure the documents has indeed been returned to me and I was inevitably exhausted by all the worry and unsettled thoughts until when it almost come to the end of the day where I managed to figure its whereabout, inside a printer where I had meant to scan it the day before, but the procedure did not work out and I forgot to take it out from the machine. -___-<br /><br />When your mind is out of focus, things like this do happen. And you end up wasting the whole of your precious time trying to disentangle the mess, physically and mentally, brought about by your occasional lack of attentiveness when performing your duties at work.<br /><br />It was drizzling when after work I drove to Sutera Harbour to attend a dinner function, I was representing KKCF, the charity organization which I am in, to receive donation from Royal Sabah Turf Club during its Annual Dinner as well as Gold Cup race 2010. Very tired and a little haggard looking, I decided to head to the rest room to put on some foundation and lipstick. Some pretty girls were inside the room, all of whom were impeccably made up and dressed stylishly. I observed a girl who was engrossed in taking pictures at the reflection of her image at the mirror, in a vain effort to immortalize her beauty into timeless youth and eternity.<br /><br />And now there’s a new word for this, in the online world at least : camwhoring. -__-<br /><br />A staff member of the Club led me to a table where I settled down after shaking hands and introducing myself to the guests at the table, all from different charitable bodies coming here with the same purpose as mine.<br /><br />The dinner function commenced with some opening speeches from invited dignitaries, then dinner was served and some programmes lined up to entertain the guests; a singing band got onstage with their quite pleasing renditions of evergreen songs of yesteryears from the likes of numbers by Elvis Presley to those of the Beatles.<br /><br />The evening progressed with the donations presentation ceremony where each of the names of the charitable bodies were called out and the representatives asked to come to the stage. I received the donation from Datuk Edward Yong who gently asked in Chinese whether it was `KK Tze Chi’ I was representing. I said yes. For more than a decade Kota Kinabalu Charitable Foundation has carved a name for its generosity to reach out to the poor and needy, near and afar, irrespective of race and religions. I felt blessed to be able to be a part of the group, even in a less active role now.<br /><br />A magic show was presented afterwards by a teenaged magician. In an instance our minds were entirely hypnotized, our vision similarly deluded by the perceived grandeurs concocted by this young girl, churning out tricks after tricks while performing slick and alluring dance moves accompanied by a fast-paced Indian song, all with the sole intention to entertain and mesmerize such that we were constantly spellbound into believing that what were merely illusionary images, were indeed the real things.<br /><br />And during those spellbinding moments, I truly felt like an impressionable and innocent five years old all over again.<br /><br />Later, a fashion show was put up by the same girls whom I encountered earlier in the restroom, they are all winners of various titles from beauty pageants in and around the state, parading their beauty as well as willowy figures on stage with casual clothes, swimwears and evening gowns. These girls appeared to be a little flattered at the attention being showered upon them by the audience, and flesh was bared a little when they sashayed down the makeshift runway during the swimwear segment to the glee and excitement of the male crowd all were seen and heard wooing in sheer delight.<br /><br />I couldn’t quite fathom as to whether a middle-aged man who suddenly rushed to the stage to present a flower as well as kisses on the cheek for one of the beauties was lured by his drunkenness or his mere desire to get a little closer to the girl, and her skin, for that matter.<br /><br />Perhaps his frustration at his impending advanced in years would somehow be soothed by the presence of this girl, and she was his best answer to showcase the last vestige of his youth?<br /><br />As the evening wore on, one of the VIPs was invited to perform and with his powerful voice churned out some melodious English numbers. A guest at the table informed us that he was the father of popular Taiwanese star Gary Chou Ke. Out of curiosity I quickly performed a scrutiny of his appearance from afar and indeed found a slight resemblance to his famous son.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFXD7xmDIkU8CbwKM1uXKJnUqeXcljSCYCx4MpAnoNnm1TLKKXLD7kngfigTVYMimpzuIP1Ck2P0nuvptfkR89RgihVvtco-Nvfn8wX1lkWJeIIOZ-o5chtcjODu5IszSpakGwg3MYbT8/s1600/Gary+%25281%2529.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671005591109489106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFXD7xmDIkU8CbwKM1uXKJnUqeXcljSCYCx4MpAnoNnm1TLKKXLD7kngfigTVYMimpzuIP1Ck2P0nuvptfkR89RgihVvtco-Nvfn8wX1lkWJeIIOZ-o5chtcjODu5IszSpakGwg3MYbT8/s320/Gary+%25281%2529.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Now that was the closest I could get to a superstar, vicariously through a fatherly figure, literally. -__-<br /><br />After the lucky draw session I made my way home . It has been a very tiring day but I was nonetheless contented to be able to fill in the invitation on behalf of the Foundation, an organization that’s close to my heart, for a good cause.<br /><br />When I got back to my apartment it was in total darkness. Power failure is a normal occurrence here at my place. Knowing this, I have got myself ready with candles in the kitchen. We should never trust the power company for making claims that they are doing their utmost to make our lives convenient.<br /><br />It’s just an empty promise.<br /><br />There is something being in pitch-blackness which would immediately elicit a perpetual sense of fear and hopelessness in me, like there’s something lurking in the darkness that would come out to intimidate and knock the life out of me. If I am rational enough, I will understand that it is just this unfounded paranoia triggered by my own feelings of insecurities and the fear of the unknown. The fact that my house was broken into once only serves to intensify the helplessness in me.<br /><br />But sleep would soon alleviate those feelings…<br /><br /></span></div></span>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-82244621080255162042011-10-27T20:02:00.000-07:002011-10-28T00:24:49.235-07:00Stray dog<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwO1n8LmzWR86zqvG5yNVuycsAx9prmLWbi8iG4c5KoZKPNNITg3W2tekBLjkOm8y3SPYZ4buQLAqCkbwEK8T9zPZPHH4u7NfdGQS-wyh8j4p2Pch8dA6UPH3BnV9Oc858gU9yBWotS8/s1600/P6221181.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668420753223965922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwO1n8LmzWR86zqvG5yNVuycsAx9prmLWbi8iG4c5KoZKPNNITg3W2tekBLjkOm8y3SPYZ4buQLAqCkbwEK8T9zPZPHH4u7NfdGQS-wyh8j4p2Pch8dA6UPH3BnV9Oc858gU9yBWotS8/s200/P6221181.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyDth_V1lvFQZ0AnwPzBr6GgTkONHby5re4Q-IVkPdcGf6HFTK7-ljKho1hCNi36XB6k47PmqC88hgFI46auV2Kb-6siBEo8Vcww9cMi-m2Rtffs28KmBlPP5X4Yie9i0h9LJzUvbXAS8/s1600/P6221182.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668421097971120994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyDth_V1lvFQZ0AnwPzBr6GgTkONHby5re4Q-IVkPdcGf6HFTK7-ljKho1hCNi36XB6k47PmqC88hgFI46auV2Kb-6siBEo8Vcww9cMi-m2Rtffs28KmBlPP5X4Yie9i0h9LJzUvbXAS8/s200/P6221182.JPG" /></a> </div><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">A stray dog loitering around the road outside of our office compound, the route which I travel every day to and from work. This dog is emaciated and suffering from serious skin infection (ringworm) exposing a large part of his scaly skin, signs that he’s mostly been neglected and lacks of nutrition.<br /></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">Hence, on some days while travelling back home, I stop by the road side to offer this poor creature some food (mostly economy fried beehun/mee I bought early morning to work) to feed his hunger. He was a little apprehensive at first but after a while began to anticipate the treats , and would recognize my presence from afar while I stopped my car by the side of the road, and immediately scurrying toward my direction, albeit in weak and unsteady steps.<br /></div></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">Some passersby would smile at me which I took as a sign of their approval , that they saw it fit that a hungry animal be given food to fulfill its very basic need to survive.<br /></span><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">Buddhism preaches compassionate loving kindness to all sentient beings, from the highest level to the lowest below, all should be accorded the same treatment and granted a little spot of their own to seek for growth and survival and ultimately emancipation from sufferings. </span><br /></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><br />And this sorry-looking stray dog, I believe just likes us humans, is also seeking some little loving kindness to make this place a wee bit better to live on… </span></div>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-4237604960553617802011-10-12T18:22:00.000-07:002011-10-13T02:11:27.738-07:00Teary-eyed<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Monday at the work place strangely turned out to be pretty quiet and stress-free for me .<br /><br />Back in the evening and after spending time doing some house chores and cooking, I found little moments to unwind in the living room by watching a TV talk show from mainland China, which I earlier downloaded, on my laptop.<br /><br />I cried and cried while watching `Xing Fu Mo Fang’ , which this episode revolved around a middle-aged woman seeking the assistance of the show hoping the host with the help of psychologist and members of the internet audience would be on hand to help her in advising her pregnant unwed daughter to give up her decision to keep the unborn child, knowing full well the pain and hardship her daughter has to endure in raising a child on her own.<br /><br />Her daughter’s relationship with the man she knew since childhood ended in tragedy when he died from a car accident in a trip back home with his girlfriend, but his death could have been avoided if he did not try to shield his lover from the possible fatal impact of the crash. His lover after recovering from the serious injury, has discovered that she was pregnant and resolved to keep the baby, emphasizing adamantly that her unborn flesh and blood being her only link to her lover and her only life line to keep going in life, her decision however was met with serious objection from her mother, who did not want the girl to end up like herself raising her child single-handedly when her husband died months after she gave birth to the girl.<br /><br />The show moved on with the participants i.e., the girl and her mom at painful loggerheads , and a childhood male friend who came to profess his long unrequited love for the girl and was willing to marry her as well as to accept her unborn child as his own, with his understandably worried mother, sitting outside the `magic cube’ readily objecting to the proposal.<br /><br />Sadness, pining for lost love, anger and desperation slowly and intermittently played out in a juxtaposition mix of emotions which I belief have been carefully choreographed to arouse the interest of the TV audience in a bid to increase viewership, their exact purpose of which has been successfully achieved, if my emotional reaction is any indication for measurement.<br /><br />I wonder as to why the salty liquid in my gland is so easily induced , and if these tears are an indication of my emotional fragility, then while developing a sense of empathy and crying over the plight of others, I should be also at the same time looking within myself to find the source of my weaknesses while seeking for that elusive inner strength which will help me see through the journey of my life with crystal clear eyes, and a stronger heart.<br /><br />But sometimes, all we need is a little empathy to make us feel we are not alone.<br /><br />That once in a while it is ok for me to feel all vulnerable and emotional like this.<br /><br />Just because I am after all, only human..<br /></span></div></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Yimj0u9RshrR2rhyl-Onmahly7uyssweBQNZaqKNCMOs6d_FqLCciF-5L2R12PEl9xTMoYc9FLV8xOjxQV3z2awjiP8hr2TyzDL8iSEB9PP6WeEt5dQhC3FIn9SXOjkUTl2TGZuFrn8/s1600/securedownload.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 289px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662410752249144338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Yimj0u9RshrR2rhyl-Onmahly7uyssweBQNZaqKNCMOs6d_FqLCciF-5L2R12PEl9xTMoYc9FLV8xOjxQV3z2awjiP8hr2TyzDL8iSEB9PP6WeEt5dQhC3FIn9SXOjkUTl2TGZuFrn8/s400/securedownload.jpg" /></a>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-19865293801241688532011-10-06T16:13:00.000-07:002011-10-06T17:42:39.516-07:00Inspirational words<span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">The day that was : 6 October 2011<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfmak7LaDhJxV7Vn4vN7cKOA3g8yVjmxu2Lg-1DQlU0jcEp6BBTVQyyCn6m9C61fYyU_b4Q3GsJaG6lmZpQHLuSaZkRzurwFrAnG-7EDJ2SO81MeLQ0AvjWL8ixoDb4wYrAE9K2FuX2ds/s1600/apples-steve-jobs-300x243.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 243px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660294631266974290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfmak7LaDhJxV7Vn4vN7cKOA3g8yVjmxu2Lg-1DQlU0jcEp6BBTVQyyCn6m9C61fYyU_b4Q3GsJaG6lmZpQHLuSaZkRzurwFrAnG-7EDJ2SO81MeLQ0AvjWL8ixoDb4wYrAE9K2FuX2ds/s400/apples-steve-jobs-300x243.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Some times ago I came across an inspirational speech from Steve Jobs and it immediately found a place in a little corner of my heart.<br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Today when I clicked on the Yahoo webpage I was immediately greeted with the death of the Apple Founder. It again struck a chord in my heart.<br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I am brought to my own sense of mortality, yet again.<br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">To quote his words `Death is a destination we all share’<br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">The world has lost an icon in his field, whose amazing brilliance had forever transformed our lives.<br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">But I don’t want to feel low nor melancholy.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I just want to put his words in here, just to remind myself how I should not let time pass me by without trying to accomplish something meaningful each day, however small and insignificant that something is.<br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">And try to follow my heart.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:85%;">May his soul rest in peace.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;">Steve Jobs:<br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><em>Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.<br /></em><em></em></span></span></div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><em><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;">Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.<br /></span></div></em></span></div></div></span></span></span>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-60877873118158996212011-09-29T20:53:00.000-07:002011-09-29T21:46:54.037-07:00Color me TuesdayThe day that was : 27 September 2011
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<br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8knxgtP4zBhHgCx8V466HuhgxJiVy2u6xR1tsBpyYDWKz-q8R_LQCQyY9huAvo0RT_p7pBOIFWp3FgfOU8jkU93vRGO8EH8QzwodkngAYSoDYs_-EhWn4OgNQgIBiXfaJL6M6YG35AGM/s1600/balloon.png"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 247px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657996707235068626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8knxgtP4zBhHgCx8V466HuhgxJiVy2u6xR1tsBpyYDWKz-q8R_LQCQyY9huAvo0RT_p7pBOIFWp3FgfOU8jkU93vRGO8EH8QzwodkngAYSoDYs_-EhWn4OgNQgIBiXfaJL6M6YG35AGM/s400/balloon.png" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">It was drizzling when I got myself ready to work early in the morning.
<br /><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Not a good day for me where in between works I let my thoughts shift and drift far and away, pondering and weighing and analyzing and rationalizing.
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<br />And if only I could..
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<br />But reality told me right at this moment is where I should be, where I belong.
<br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">At least for now this is what I should be settling for.
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<br />I turned from my desk and looked out the window and what brought to my view was the limited expanse of greenery and other incongruous landscapes in the distance, co-existing in harmony and basking in the persistence drizzle, with occasional heavy showers in between.
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<br />And tree leaves and branches swaying gracefully in the gentle wind .
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<br />This, lifted up my tattered spirit almost in an instance.
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<br />Nature and its perceived grandeur always possesses this unfathomable ability to soothe and comfort me.
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<br />I let out a long sigh, and quietly issued a silent reprimand to myself.
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<br />I want to gather all my inner strength to LEARN to live in the moment.
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<br />For it’s what matters to me now.
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<br />A little introspection towards the end of colorless Tuesday.
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<br />It ironically brought back a little color and perspective to my slightly deprived soul..
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<br /></span>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-55186591143658728152011-09-18T12:31:00.000-07:002011-09-18T21:52:48.143-07:00Zhong Qiu<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrjxXHsEWzp81XwyZ1xu8LVU7g2HaT7J14SVxOSlRzqWBlXxbFGFoUKkd4_ax-MlimrJXtkyTCXjGkEq_4nHsMqHKNyfk2b4n4ymY3t5N3hDhIyZLoMBOjNZ2hf4GsM6vRQaaYYJJdQM/s1600/2857889285_3acc15c9ea.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652458746237088210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrjxXHsEWzp81XwyZ1xu8LVU7g2HaT7J14SVxOSlRzqWBlXxbFGFoUKkd4_ax-MlimrJXtkyTCXjGkEq_4nHsMqHKNyfk2b4n4ymY3t5N3hDhIyZLoMBOjNZ2hf4GsM6vRQaaYYJJdQM/s400/2857889285_3acc15c9ea.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">The day that was : 12 September 2011<br /><br />It’s the Mid-Autumn festival, or Zhong Qiu festival . There were not much activities in the office and my work routines progressed at a rather snail’s pace. Allowing myself some breaks, I surfed the internet and read a heart-rending post by a blogger dedicated his writings specially to his close buddy who was killed during the 11/9 tragedy. And it’s been 10 years since the catastrophe, but as memory of images of twin towers slowly disintegrating and crumbling to the ground being brought back to mind, there’s somehow a sense of relief to know that this very same place which was once shrouded in utter fear and chaos in the aftermath of 9/11 has seemed to somehow regain a semblance of normalcy.<br /></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">But with the passing of another anniversary I pray that those who have been affected by the tragedy will be dragged a little further from those painful memories, and instead choose to remember this very poignant event in their lives by embracing the days ahead with renewed hopes and dreams.<br /></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Because putting personal tragedy behind in order to move forward, albeit taking one tiny step at a time, is a prerequisite for living and, above all, an intrinsic part of life.<br /></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">But death is also an intrinsic part of life...<br /></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I saw my boss descending the stairs clasping a newspaper under his arm at about 4.00pm and I ‘d wonder whether he’d decided to go back home early to celebrate the festival with his family.<br /></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">If only he would allow us to go back 1 hour and 45 minutes earlier, it would have made us very happy.<br /></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">But sometimes, you can’t expect too much generosity from your boss.<br /></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Zhong Qiu should be a time for merry-making and happy feelings but being affected by this one post I have read , I came to ponder about my own mortality and death in its own sense and decided to sneak a little time in between the mundane tasks at work by writing a letter to a Venerable Tze Fu who is now in Burma.<br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><em></em></span></div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><em>Dear Tze Fu,<br /></em></span><br /></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><em>Amitofu, how are you?<br /></em></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><em>Time really flies while we are busy with life, now that it’s been close to one year since you left for Burma, I would not have noticed the swiftness with which time moves have I not stopped in my track for a while to ponder about people around me , and about you.<br /></em></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><em>Just last Saturday I went to City Vege Restaurant and met with Lee Fang Tze Jie and asked her about you and how’s you’ve been doing. It’s nice to hear a little about you from her and the fact that you have been and are doing well in Burma. I believe you must have shown so much progress in your quest for spiritual attainment.<br /></em></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><em>Indeed, both Yee2 and me ( I have related the news to her) are happy for you.<br /></em></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><em>Yee2 is currently sill in the village. In fact she rarely comes down to KK unless there’s a need to attend to some urgent matters. She told me while she hasn’t yet determined as to the path to tread on she would treasure her time by paying more attention to her spiritual practice. Indeed the quietness and serene atmosphere in the village is a conducive environment to practice the Buddha’s teachings. Within weeks from each other recently she has received news of the passing away of her two close friends from Yuan Kuang, one a Tze Fu and the other her course mate, both gone before their time due to cancer. I sensed her sadness upon hearing the news but while she has to bear with the lingering loss she told me it also helps to strengthen her resolve to not waste time and to diligently follow the spiritual path.<br /></em></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><em>I must admit the news of the deaths of her two friends have somehow also affected me and it made me think deeply about the impermanence of life and how we must not waste time to strive to add meaning to our lives by performing good deeds for the good of our own, and of others.<br /></em></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><em>Last month Yee2 and I have together with family members and friends made a trip to Santavana Hermitage to make offerings to the monks and we were happy to be able to meet up with Kai Ying Tze Fu and the rest of the community of Bhikkhus and Bhikkhunis as well as to have a little chat and it’s indeed nice to be able to see them again.<br /></em></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><em>Today being ZhongQiu festival in Malaysia. Do the Burmese people celebrate this festival in Burma too?<br /></em></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><em>Till then, wishing Tze Fu a happy `Zhong Qiu’ and may Tze Fu be well and happy.<br /></em></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"><em>With Metta,<br />CJ<br /></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">In the evening at my apartment, I thought of loved ones back home while eating my bowl of hastily prepared instant noodles and gazed at the full moon outside which was partially hidden behind some moving black clouds, it’s still looked beautiful despite the veil of darkness and I naively thought maybe I could capture a glimpse of its image via the lens of my digital camera but just as I returned to the balcony with the device the moon has already disappeared into the dark horizon.<br /></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Ah the transience of all things beautiful, soothing, and comforting..<br /></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">This Zhong Qiu despite without its requisite elements, did bring forth in me a sense of calm, and contentment.<br /><br />For it’s been a meaningful journey for me so far…<br /></div></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv3ur2Lto5biOv8J0DDtIpkkoYEm8oN5S9sFMKXdYzEEix3T3Od0lSXNeVZe7iYBLIBrjQ4UQ1C69YfvSRGAohfJw_s-MvtkrpfRNi27CmrL8u371KgehIQWSMernEUT3caVane0hFt18/s1600/the_moon.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652459305399537970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv3ur2Lto5biOv8J0DDtIpkkoYEm8oN5S9sFMKXdYzEEix3T3Od0lSXNeVZe7iYBLIBrjQ4UQ1C69YfvSRGAohfJw_s-MvtkrpfRNi27CmrL8u371KgehIQWSMernEUT3caVane0hFt18/s400/the_moon.jpg" /></a><br /></div></span>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-91138282678722100182011-09-14T20:30:00.000-07:002011-09-18T21:55:26.457-07:00Of 4D and a million ringgit<div align="justify"><font face="times new roman">I bought RM8 worth of lottery tickets in Beaufort, my hometown while going back to visit my parents on a weekend. My bet was a 4D , and 6D Toto (my first time), the 6D being a combination of numbers made up of the birth dates of my siblings and myself. I sheepishly asked the lady at the counter whether that was how I should arrange the numbers, to which she nodded in an unperturbed manner, while an elder Chinese man behind me glanced over my shoulder with somewhat a look of slight amusement on his face.<br /></font><br /><font face="times new roman">I have been placing bets on these lottery tickets on some weekends these days. Without luck of course. I remember my first and only win dated way back in the 90s where I bought two tickets upon spotting the number atop the bus on which Keanu Reeves was on while trying to save a group of hostages inside a city bus which contained a time bomb set by a terrorist, in the movie SPEED. In 1994 to be exact.<br /></font><br /><font face="times new roman">I can still remember the thrills and excitement of watching the movie with a friend. How I adored Keanu Reeve (and still do!) and Sandra Bullock then after watching them for the first time on screen. </font></div><br /><div align="justify"><font face="times new roman"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZVsFJjy38ibqiMWP0qrwpeG6HoMygX9ddBzEXiKx2WJ8EbHPNFhzjoa90Uc4dM4qIAPFNGtNimW_DsenPdsGCzktUzmFciiv7EKiRwrJI6nNgoXRSd31nkh0GK2rs5A7k42-ZLyYUXSQ/s1600/untitled.bmp"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 297px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648716470982659234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZVsFJjy38ibqiMWP0qrwpeG6HoMygX9ddBzEXiKx2WJ8EbHPNFhzjoa90Uc4dM4qIAPFNGtNimW_DsenPdsGCzktUzmFciiv7EKiRwrJI6nNgoXRSd31nkh0GK2rs5A7k42-ZLyYUXSQ/s400/untitled.bmp" /></a><br /></font><br /><font face="times new roman">But time wisely executes its own SPEED while the majority of us are toiling away in obscurity, dealing with LIFE’S various issues , events big or small , without even pausing to look back to where we are.<br /></font><font face="times new roman"></font><br /><div align="justify"><font face="times new roman">And if we ever decide to make a little effort to really pause, that previously unnoticed fact in an instance immerses to stare right back at us with glaring intensity .</font><br /><br /><font face="times new roman">Of the swiftness with which time moves.<br /><br />I digress.<br /><br />The fact that lottery outlets have throngs of people lining up everyday willing to spare their hard-earned cash to bet have undisputedly testified to us of its charm to entice us into believing that we all have the opportunity, however thin it is, to strike it rich.<br /><br />Because we never want to lose hope that one fine day luck will finally find us, and the winnings will undoubtedly help us alleviate whatever financial troubles that we are experiencing at that particular time.<br /><br />Perhaps to redeem our lost pride of so frequently having to tread behind the shadows of success and opportunity, which often times elude us, yet granted amply upon others.<br /></font></div><br /><div align="justify"><font face="times new roman">Or to help us pursue whatever dreams that we may not be able to realize due to monetary constraints, in addition to nestling in the lap of luxuries and live the life we desire.<br /><br />But even though the odds of winning is as slim as the possibility of finding a lost needle beneath the deep ocean, it does not stop us to continue betting, hoping against all odds that one day, the angel of good luck will indeed pay us a visit.<br /><br /><div align="justify"><font face="times new roman">Even though hope and dreams are like that mischievous little child often times hiding behind the veil of distorted reality.<br /><br />Now, if only I can win a million ringgit. Sigh.<br /><br />But I will continue to bet .<br /><br />Just because one fine day in 1994 a dear young me had had the taste of winning RM180in lottery tickets, which in that moment made her feel like a million ringgit! ^__^<br /></div></font></div></font>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-16017674423089077202011-09-11T02:04:00.000-07:002011-09-11T18:02:22.502-07:00Spiritual food for thought<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7EjJmjPyUvUvGbpL3_W3jVrwSzhvBbWbRwEXT-ZGz_0wjludFyQT3XaGMkS8P7GCmB5UkgKE-q2fhStWFpFSeFBnzPsxmGFHwlnWJa05xC6NC8EkMVTa4iOAXkQH5iZ4VksSLEmBkZ0M/s1600/64d42fe21004320ff20e6a70670043b3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639152376579546162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7EjJmjPyUvUvGbpL3_W3jVrwSzhvBbWbRwEXT-ZGz_0wjludFyQT3XaGMkS8P7GCmB5UkgKE-q2fhStWFpFSeFBnzPsxmGFHwlnWJa05xC6NC8EkMVTa4iOAXkQH5iZ4VksSLEmBkZ0M/s400/64d42fe21004320ff20e6a70670043b3.jpg" /></a><br /><font face="times new roman">On a quiet evening, just to remind myself, we are far from perfect, and in our effort to seek improvements within ourselves, and strive to become a better individual, we also learn to accept and embrace the imperfections in others..<br /></font></div><br /><div align="justify"><font face="times new roman">When you find yourself judging someone,<br />Look for what in yourself you are not willing to accept..<br />hold that part of you more gently. </font></div><br /><div><font face="times new roman">-Robyn Posin-</font></div><br /><div><font face="times new roman"></font></div><br /><div></div>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-83443511108678900142011-08-14T23:30:00.000-07:002011-08-15T07:18:13.119-07:00Chaotic maze<span style="font-family:times new roman;">The day that was : 27 March 2011
<br />
<br />A nephew bought a plastic bag of fresh water prawns from a stall on way back to my parents’ house in kampung after a trip to the cemetery during Qing Ming. These prawns were meant to end up as a dish for lunch. I took a peek and saw some of the prawns were still alive, wriggling and gasping for air. which I assumed they were caught not long ago. I was actually thinking maybe I could still save their lives by releasing them into the river not far from the house however agonized as to how to relay my intention to my nephew, him being a Muslim (my cousin himself a convert Muslim) and has little knowledge about <em>fang sheng</em>.
<br />
<br />When I returned from collecting some <em>pandan</em> leaves nearby and had by then already made up my mind about telling my nephew of my intention to purchase the prawns from him, I found it a little too late as my aunt was already half way through getting the prawns ready for cooking. But I managed to secretly scoop up the few remaining wiggling ones and put them in a small basin of water , then made my way into the river and released them.
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhmQ9LTxQcmNheZ8M0gRfeetPWax9vQkebxLBsOCFn3yxvqIX1UThMVWVJxQe4XsMo4HYMd4qWehoVLWJMvGSNDeiCqYKTlj23tkJWME5xQn-vMLj0H3eKqDbjrqSZV9cj_7dx7cps46s/s1600/Picture+786.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638711886256918594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhmQ9LTxQcmNheZ8M0gRfeetPWax9vQkebxLBsOCFn3yxvqIX1UThMVWVJxQe4XsMo4HYMd4qWehoVLWJMvGSNDeiCqYKTlj23tkJWME5xQn-vMLj0H3eKqDbjrqSZV9cj_7dx7cps46s/s200/Picture+786.jpg" /></a>
<br />I slipped and fell while climbing up the muddy river bank, my track suit and slippers collected plenty of mud and I got lost while navigating my way home. I was in a daze , unable to believe that what used to be an endearing playground in my younger days has now been completely transformed into a foreign territory, of sort.
<br />
<br />My siblings and I used to frequent this river almost on daily basis to bath and play and collect drinking water during drought seasons. I have not been to this river for so many years since I left home to pursue my studies later work in KK, but what had been a familiar sight and route has now turned into a pretty different sight, the river has changed its topography and I no longer could identify the place where we used to playfully ride on our neighbor’s <em>sampan</em> or helping my mother to wash the laundry while sitting on the rakit placed beside the river bank, with my mother listening to stories of our cheekiness in school told by our primary school’s teacher, who happened to be our good neighbor.
<br />
<br />It used to be a well-tended path surrounded by rubber trees leading to the river, but it is now sadly being replaced by some overgrown bushes to the extent I could no longer tell the whereabout of the only house which used to stand where it was.
<br />
<br />I came away from this slightly chaotic maze of confusion, but not without a lingering sense of melancholy that things and places, just like people and life itself, are subject to change and evolution, and what remains akin to only shattered glass shrapnels here and there, but which when pieced together, would form a big picture providing inadvertent clues to fragments of stories from the past.
<br /></span>
<br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Because time ironically stands still amidst the meandering shadows which we long left behind.
<br />
<br />And that which we treasure and cherish is only a memory of what it used to be…
<br />
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlpxA1P3AokGXgn8RjU10Kcgvsi5NvFU_bDVqPncpKqdRoXXPS4qzh_hNpp2LAH5RfVuxayh2FMj1JVhe1VN_hU2IhQ4GmGkrOWXUyduYAy2e9dYvrXotOT3WUSzcPXd-XsH6HaC0oxw/s1600/Picture+789.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638711363448629234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlpxA1P3AokGXgn8RjU10Kcgvsi5NvFU_bDVqPncpKqdRoXXPS4qzh_hNpp2LAH5RfVuxayh2FMj1JVhe1VN_hU2IhQ4GmGkrOWXUyduYAy2e9dYvrXotOT3WUSzcPXd-XsH6HaC0oxw/s400/Picture+789.jpg" /></a></span>
<br /><p></p>
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<br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj084HuNh4t72Dr8hEsMk-gMAAEOwQYAblN9Zh4PKqFkbEthnHkjmvibeSMT9IeHgDc4qlZndmQHaVIvedofbHOs8z5-2k0XfIos909izBL0TyE2YsA7vKgj3YybtMqaUDhbd02DLncEGY/s1600/Picture+788.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638352476755997106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj084HuNh4t72Dr8hEsMk-gMAAEOwQYAblN9Zh4PKqFkbEthnHkjmvibeSMT9IeHgDc4qlZndmQHaVIvedofbHOs8z5-2k0XfIos909izBL0TyE2YsA7vKgj3YybtMqaUDhbd02DLncEGY/s400/Picture+788.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">The river</span> </p>
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<br />
<br /><p></span><em><span style="font-size:85%;">some photos from Qing Ming:</span>
<br /></em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyrJnZt6OdNrtnTXSkhiiftUKyFLBcNEidtumISqvgSkACQCBRtKNEWonMcEMRxRePU2yeDIE0dEFhl4zICQjjnA9tluGpqBqwmZPq6oA5nElQ5dsVbl1uhoq8iR-Iur0W997f64p_lqo/s1600/Picture+783.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638352996786077042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyrJnZt6OdNrtnTXSkhiiftUKyFLBcNEidtumISqvgSkACQCBRtKNEWonMcEMRxRePU2yeDIE0dEFhl4zICQjjnA9tluGpqBqwmZPq6oA5nElQ5dsVbl1uhoq8iR-Iur0W997f64p_lqo/s400/Picture+783.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:85%;">
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNfsjzSUL9ceboTb6u73arAeqjqXYLO6EzcLkmoqaPu_CLyr7z-7nquU-lzUE4JvDtnAyyQBNLD8ZgwfaZjTXn06lMW-NEG7lKr7T6ymliSJl-oOccymdM8oAWlkjKkwsVApgWOwepr0g/s1600/Picture+779.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638734217772677602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNfsjzSUL9ceboTb6u73arAeqjqXYLO6EzcLkmoqaPu_CLyr7z-7nquU-lzUE4JvDtnAyyQBNLD8ZgwfaZjTXn06lMW-NEG7lKr7T6ymliSJl-oOccymdM8oAWlkjKkwsVApgWOwepr0g/s400/Picture+779.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">We are one big family.
<br /></span>
<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGCuU6l3LPSXDWBeiXPowHqkxKzPwf5ueC7BkWdm6xbzjB1-diHirYCZBv-bGJ0ovx9gCOg1oeJWknSLQ0RvdQQ5hjJyUxi5UAYbUalHJXZYAhdf2EqW8XVd3sI7CXZ1Tl962eEzVa4s/s1600/Picture+767.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638352817831869122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGCuU6l3LPSXDWBeiXPowHqkxKzPwf5ueC7BkWdm6xbzjB1-diHirYCZBv-bGJ0ovx9gCOg1oeJWknSLQ0RvdQQ5hjJyUxi5UAYbUalHJXZYAhdf2EqW8XVd3sI7CXZ1Tl962eEzVa4s/s400/Picture+767.jpg" /></a><em> </em><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Papa</em> offering a prayer for my late <em>ma.</em>
<br /></span></span>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmGJSfLievkQpAqtLh_tXDtoha3T4bGrVKL3OF4CynN_zAIkx20gxQkXLXS0OVQbkK16mzwqRPzbD-m2Mgkl59MZ9I3IplEgbtPTiPeJx_fJxI6HtFN60Z9Xb_PyXmq3DqkKPs2U7Qfeg/s1600/Picture+737.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638358274371246162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmGJSfLievkQpAqtLh_tXDtoha3T4bGrVKL3OF4CynN_zAIkx20gxQkXLXS0OVQbkK16mzwqRPzbD-m2Mgkl59MZ9I3IplEgbtPTiPeJx_fJxI6HtFN60Z9Xb_PyXmq3DqkKPs2U7Qfeg/s400/Picture+737.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"> <span style="font-size:78%;">Me, laying some food for offering for a dear aunt, who passed away in a car accident more than a decade ago.</span>
<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUuwnf2-yOIoWYY3PdwteOgcJoXK7t7XJmDuY-TPOXBYkNL2zXFthju-J_T0aYrLZEG8CVPTKobSjbqHPFuqE90dRjYOzz9FKzmwBvAMRsKo4AmLTmyfWlaWafMS1DkpJGTm-u5oShRuA/s1600/Picture+735.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638356389220759970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUuwnf2-yOIoWYY3PdwteOgcJoXK7t7XJmDuY-TPOXBYkNL2zXFthju-J_T0aYrLZEG8CVPTKobSjbqHPFuqE90dRjYOzz9FKzmwBvAMRsKo4AmLTmyfWlaWafMS1DkpJGTm-u5oShRuA/s400/Picture+735.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Niece Kewei using a brush & red paint to attentively rewrite the inscription on the tomb.
<br /></span></p>
<br />jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-16005330047752036662011-07-27T00:36:00.000-07:002011-07-27T21:53:22.140-07:00A story of zhenzhu nai cha<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSEmBa1WDhLB75zyc8z9AH11X1LVeXhOKdyqNzVgsFU8K1uoNIxQwYYYx0ZpwnLH2hJJnyKVc0kA24Yu8v2RZDDRX2w3CX1l4WpX1jO6GEPhujQkaUKfDm0DyR5UTTEIkpPAjE3thyphenhyphenl9k/s1600/P7151243.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSEmBa1WDhLB75zyc8z9AH11X1LVeXhOKdyqNzVgsFU8K1uoNIxQwYYYx0ZpwnLH2hJJnyKVc0kA24Yu8v2RZDDRX2w3CX1l4WpX1jO6GEPhujQkaUKfDm0DyR5UTTEIkpPAjE3thyphenhyphenl9k/s400/P7151243.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634257769533541810" /></a>
<br /><div><font face="times new roman">
<br />It was a Friday.
<br />
<br />My niece called as I was about to call it a night, feeling tired and with back pains. She said she wanted to drop by my house to give me something. A while later there was a knock at the door. As I opened it there she was standing outside holding a small plastic bag containing a cup of pearl milk tea. Turned out she had gone out earlier with friends for a `yum cha session’ and on her way back after giving her friend a lift decided to turn to my place to give me this `takeaway’.
<br />
<br /><div><font face="times new roman">I must admit, I felt a little touched by this.
<br />
<br />So on that quiet night, I sipped through the straw of the cup of iced Pearl milk tea, alone, but not lonely, with a warm and fuzzy feeling inside, comforting myself that all would be well and despite at times dealing with insecurity issues and feeling like a tiny speck of dust amidst this vast humanity, somewhere, somehow, I was remembered…. </font></div>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-75779518518651633572011-07-20T21:48:00.000-07:002011-07-24T23:19:49.688-07:00Not sober<span style="font-family:times new roman;">Many years ago, while having a bowl of fish noodle in a kopitiam in Jalan Gaya, a man caught my eyes, and I wrote down my thoughts of him, in a little note book.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">On a Sunday afternoon,
<br />what is on your mind, I wonder?
<br />I see five big empty bottles of beer on a coffee table,
<br />Where you sit by, with a companion,
<br />at a corner of a local coffee shop…
<br />
<br />The ceiling fan’s spinning furiously,
<br />But it seems to me you have sank back into total oblivion,
<br />perhaps the smooth operations of your senses have been obliterated by the flow of liquor from your mouth, to every direction in your veins?
<br />
<br />You are immersed in your own little space,
<br />I initially thought that the glow in your eyes equates a certain vigilance,
<br />but it turns out to be simply inebriated stares,
<br />hidden behind are perhaps a feeling of desperation and hopelessness,
<br />and you are trying to numb these feelings by emptying bottle upon bottle of liquor,
<br />as I can see .
<br />
<br />You stare blankly at the noisy crowd, meandering souls around you,
<br />but I don’t think you really feel their existence,
<br />because you have been entirely hypnotized by the very presence of liquor,
<br />which has acquired an undisputed dominion over the space in your life for now…
<br />
<br />But you seem happy and calm.
<br />But I figure its just this game of illusion manifesting itself,
<br />by influencing your subconscious mind into translating these expressions,
<br />on your outer skin…
<br />
<br />You don’t care about what others think of you,
<br />even I myself have formed this judgment about you,
<br />oh how I shouldn’t.
<br />You think it’s sweet,
<br />on your part, this perceived divine intoxication of the mind body and soul.
<br />
<br />I have finished my noodles,
<br />Another empty bottle is added to the table,
<br />I think its going to be an extended session,
<br />You have fallen deep in your drunken slumber,
<br />I wonder, when tomorrow comes,
<br />When the traces of alcohol slowly diminish,
<br />will you again regain sobriety,
<br />to face the day with renewed hope and promises?
<br />
<br />I am leaving now,
<br />I have only these few hours left,
<br />tomorrow’s another working week,
<br />I desperately crave a good rest,
<br />There’s certainly no room for drinking session like this,
<br />even if I so wish.
<br />
<br />Do have a good time while you are at it.
<br />Its funny though,
<br />my observation of you,
<br />have brought about a lingering emptiness, in me…..
<br />you have slowly and moderately drunk the life out of this bitter liquid,
<br />like a lost and inebriated soul you are,
<br />Yet it’s ain’t poetry…
<br /></span>
<br /></span></span>
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw3AnLYnuxAxmbjaLz1a9Tm9lKmH9hM44J4qoZCbaM2xHhAcvbeKidbBFCEMWLL55ATsxG3oheiDcWqbzn0sOsDWCQfjhkJqDzeFeWF0RfxJPQ2Q2k5_SIEjTf1Agfl2QqINbL1XN0NNA/s1600/any-damn-beer.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 265px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631664374522487314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw3AnLYnuxAxmbjaLz1a9Tm9lKmH9hM44J4qoZCbaM2xHhAcvbeKidbBFCEMWLL55ATsxG3oheiDcWqbzn0sOsDWCQfjhkJqDzeFeWF0RfxJPQ2Q2k5_SIEjTf1Agfl2QqINbL1XN0NNA/s400/any-damn-beer.jpg" /></a>
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<br />jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-21107947069974556262011-07-04T21:27:00.000-07:002011-07-05T06:04:07.088-07:00Feeding pigeons<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">A few pigeons wander around my balcony early morning while I get myself busy cooking lunch for work, producing melodiously captivating cooing sounds as if to remind me to hurry up. They do it for a reason. I have been feeding these birds with cracked corn feed for quite some time on the balcony of my first-floor apartment. Initially there were only two or three pigeons linger about the space with the frequent presence of sparrows and other small birds. But I eventually had to stop feeding on the advice of a friend as the bird droppings had caused pretty much an eyesore, and unhygienic, plus the fact I did not have time to clean it out every day, yet this did not deter the birds from coming back each morning, waiting faithfully in anticipation for their feed. I felt pity for them and I just didn’t have the heart to turn them down.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">So what was only a casual act to ensure the few hungry birds get some food, has now been transformed into a small mission on my part to routinely spread the feed on the ground near the parking area of my apartment block, every morning before I drive to work. But the spreading of the cracked corn has somehow managed to attract the keen eyes of their peers hence it’s now grown into a frock of twenty and sometimes thirty and more pigeons, which can be seen every morning perching precariously on the roof tops and window panes of my neighbors’ apartments, waiting patiently for the time to fly down to the ground the moment I distant myself from the feeding zone.<br /><br />I do question myself sometimes if my act of habitually feeding this frock of pigeons and other little birds would make them more dependent of easily available feed, in the process depriving them from using their natural instinct to search for food? In some countries for instant there are signs placed in the parks to advise visitors not to feed the birds for fear that they might eventually lose their abilities to fend for themselves especially during winter times where very few people will venture out to feed them.<br /><br />But I told myself our country is blessed with moderate climate. If one day I stop feeding these birds I do believe someone else will.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">So now cracked corn feed is a must- buy item in my sundry shopping list.<br /><br />But it is also heart warming for me to think that this little act of giving has helped add a little sparkle and shine to my otherwise monotonous daily routines.<br /><br />And every morning if time permits, I will watch from a distance at these little birds contentedly feasting on their treats, it somehow soothes and induces a feeling of calm in me.<br /><br />I guess it must be due to this sense of contentment from within, knowing that I am able to give, however little,<br />and from this at times neglected fact that we receive much more than we give.<br /><br />The very source of nourishment to our soul..<br /></span><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWGvB9CAP0cjTq2F2nqL4O3bPoJrjKmnZkra86wZLK-3AwEyIs-I02xqa2UdCxGpyLu5sCFOokUdDBhuowYbFYuUBKnOyekrSdgSgHtlW3xJnNqjPvzIX9OAdqzED61IJX77D9zQB_YI4/s1600/P6291237.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624236449767308258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWGvB9CAP0cjTq2F2nqL4O3bPoJrjKmnZkra86wZLK-3AwEyIs-I02xqa2UdCxGpyLu5sCFOokUdDBhuowYbFYuUBKnOyekrSdgSgHtlW3xJnNqjPvzIX9OAdqzED61IJX77D9zQB_YI4/s400/P6291237.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4epyMoyJieo8aTATZNTCeYVMEsiALGg4HqYiLw6oxNN2lBUYECFMm4-apgfN0-jyJYs67UjdDST50sGAFrfWIAEd1qoeN1mK_3rS9qwjE1nBDpbWUFSqnEyrAj2kxHS6gTiMTQHLzW0/s1600/P6301238.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624236632164899922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4epyMoyJieo8aTATZNTCeYVMEsiALGg4HqYiLw6oxNN2lBUYECFMm4-apgfN0-jyJYs67UjdDST50sGAFrfWIAEd1qoeN1mK_3rS9qwjE1nBDpbWUFSqnEyrAj2kxHS6gTiMTQHLzW0/s400/P6301238.JPG" /></a>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-64422080416774586742011-06-07T21:50:00.000-07:002011-06-07T22:34:58.634-07:00The voice from within<span style="font-family:times new roman;">I have been severely lacking in physical activities, and couple with a sedentary lifestyle this has slowly produced the inactiveness in me. So I decided to take a long overdue stroll to the neighbourhood in one of the weekends, during a quiet and uneventful Sunday evening.
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<br />As I casually and aimlessly strolled by, I noticed the flickers of light from within the living rooms of some of the houses. Indication that the TV sets had been switched on. The same scene repeated itself as I walked pass the many houses lined both sides of my path - people getting themselves glued to the sound and images produced from the electronic sets which seemed to be playfully and tantalizingly diverting the attention of the few who were doing nothing however dreamily immersing in their thoughts, while some folding their laundries whereas others feeding the babies or even just feeding themselves, displaying their multi-tasking skills at best.
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<br />People can’t seem to be able to separate themselves from the external images and noises which they have for the longest time associated themselves with, they can’t bear to simply open up and try to listen to their inner voices but instead constantly drawing themselves to the noises from outside, consciously or subconsciously. They just dread being alone, anticipating the sense of loneliness it would entail…
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<br />In this global age where technology has produced a myriad supply of electronic wares and gadgets to convenient our lives, and in our rush to conform to society with its constantly changing dynamics, it is difficult not to be influenced by what is cool, hip and in-trend.
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<br />Just take a peek into a crowded café for an instance, people (the younger generation especially) waiting for their orders rather than using the waiting time to initiate a good conversation with their partners, will instead turn to their smart phones to play games, listen to music, surfing or SMSing.
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<br />People just can’t bear to take a little time off from the active participation of their minds in external activities and learn to listen to that gentle voice from within , of which the seed of serenity resides.
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<br />Don’t we want to once in a while try to switch off the noises from outside and learn instead to listen to our inner voice? Don’t we want to quiet this gentle rumblings of the heart and try to seek its source and rationalize? Don’t we want to seek a little corner from within and rest this restlessness and anxiety, the source of our discontent and unhappiness, so that it would finally die down and perish into nonexistence?
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<br />Maybe its time for us to learn to listen to nothing but this barely audible of the steady beating of our pulses, lending an ear to the inhalation and exhalation of air coursing through our systems to make us realize that nothing is more precious than this.
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<br />The realisation of the one fact that we are truly alive..
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<br />And all that we have been worrying about have now reduced to mere specks of dust the significance of which is too negligible to warrant their dominance in our minds.
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<br />But living truthfully and meaningfully is…
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<br /><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><em>Some random photos:
<br /></em></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">On Wesak Day (17/05/11), we made an early journey to Santavana Forest Hermitage to participate in Dana offerings for the monks. I was feeling unwell due to flu and fever yet it did not deter me from joining my siblings for the trip, which has now become an annual affair for me, since years back. This time round, nieces Kewei and Chun2 tagged along.
<br /></p></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix_pvEU9EbFsCA1uLqlMmGW5Jndc17mOf-1_SyK110hyZtYiNiKTTw0Tjae0nz9iXXA2DbBfEhfzdaRMwzOFW870shjO305QaWCrjs11PQBQ_7mSF0-nSo57MWkcdhHMy8ykHbxdjxSng/s1600/Picture+848.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615715044194347970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix_pvEU9EbFsCA1uLqlMmGW5Jndc17mOf-1_SyK110hyZtYiNiKTTw0Tjae0nz9iXXA2DbBfEhfzdaRMwzOFW870shjO305QaWCrjs11PQBQ_7mSF0-nSo57MWkcdhHMy8ykHbxdjxSng/s400/Picture+848.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;">The devotees waiting patiently for the arrival of the monks(tse fus)..
<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij8eDN765VRBPM5rHMnQBK1Y3qYIMl9lDEKbtpoLCAV1EC5ifT2LBzF11OAgCIdX-Dq40hMueuvi1mafXKOV4fJ9VEQBjyzNxNmD8TNLxpyK_UUllFfFJMvkHRe4Flz_1Tf5idhyphenhyphen8x2-w/s1600/Picture+841.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615714710912154706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij8eDN765VRBPM5rHMnQBK1Y3qYIMl9lDEKbtpoLCAV1EC5ifT2LBzF11OAgCIdX-Dq40hMueuvi1mafXKOV4fJ9VEQBjyzNxNmD8TNLxpyK_UUllFfFJMvkHRe4Flz_1Tf5idhyphenhyphen8x2-w/s400/Picture+841.jpg" /></a>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMccnF3qH8fNrwkYwJjH0QO64WmL_L0Rs677f-TBOFajXXylRwhqKWX-WyknYPwQJfQ2W3jBMQP4P9A9QFqXtjs3nU4XPa0orsaANINjQ5xuLvP_LyGkjjePk3xiuov97W3bOXqUYlqYM/s1600/Picture+832.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615714268448755954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMccnF3qH8fNrwkYwJjH0QO64WmL_L0Rs677f-TBOFajXXylRwhqKWX-WyknYPwQJfQ2W3jBMQP4P9A9QFqXtjs3nU4XPa0orsaANINjQ5xuLvP_LyGkjjePk3xiuov97W3bOXqUYlqYM/s400/Picture+832.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">
<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzoLP-pInAyrM1STjc-6CvhJWJhE_nM2bx1Og6T_MIPfWb3G3DrxAtyAOi0o08MNqhGOvjRg23cAaqoA3uXpRQD1I0vZl5Q0y673Ij7sM99sc9grV3pyoaKzCkgJZstlm4nPhx9CjHNkM/s1600/Picture+830.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615713840414484658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzoLP-pInAyrM1STjc-6CvhJWJhE_nM2bx1Og6T_MIPfWb3G3DrxAtyAOi0o08MNqhGOvjRg23cAaqoA3uXpRQD1I0vZl5Q0y673Ij7sM99sc9grV3pyoaKzCkgJZstlm4nPhx9CjHNkM/s400/Picture+830.jpg" /></a>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvqbSmXm67wLvgI_Zl1F_uIO7ut5V4BZrc8FhXvTiNQNSBJpfnv27qytW2b3A5hKj0rR8YjamRjafWcYjmFmYNZKvA3VCbKd4ShQqLRbLsGLU_0CfF7l62EbLWUAueGCpxY035XaM36Fc/s1600/Picture+850.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615715426927734130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvqbSmXm67wLvgI_Zl1F_uIO7ut5V4BZrc8FhXvTiNQNSBJpfnv27qytW2b3A5hKj0rR8YjamRjafWcYjmFmYNZKvA3VCbKd4ShQqLRbLsGLU_0CfF7l62EbLWUAueGCpxY035XaM36Fc/s400/Picture+850.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">Alms offering.
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<br />jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-67472719785448031882011-05-19T06:42:00.000-07:002011-05-22T07:37:02.470-07:00Scattered thoughts<div><font face="times new roman">The sales girl scooped up a near lifeless tiny frog, and instinctively put it back into the tank. I asked her why and she explained that they don’t sell dead frogs as it would poison the fishes when being fed upon. I wanted very much to save its life even though there was only a small chance the frog would survive when being released into the wild. So I told the her to put it into another plastic bag. At the counter, I asked the lady boss to sell a little cheaper since the condition of the frog was a tad fragile, it might be dead any time soon. She instead suggested I might as well not take it, but my heart whispered otherwise, and I paid even though she refused to provide a discount.<br /></font><br /><font face="times new roman">All life forms are precious and equal, tiny frogs included, hence deserved to be treated with compassion and respect in their search for continued existence on this earth, even more so during these very uncertain, turbulent times of our lives..<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNM3Yuvk6djaaXhpmqO6EMYDmoXtcrnplzZsac8QX1li-tdt2g_PmzZLCXzpCjee2574wDid3y5xxFKJ2fPXsaOo3Q6Kv5Z7CuTJ5BLCWtl70gXtkmEDIla_PuZgf3E55ZQ86uO6fdSI/s1600/Picture+867.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609545295749605794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNM3Yuvk6djaaXhpmqO6EMYDmoXtcrnplzZsac8QX1li-tdt2g_PmzZLCXzpCjee2574wDid3y5xxFKJ2fPXsaOo3Q6Kv5Z7CuTJ5BLCWtl70gXtkmEDIla_PuZgf3E55ZQ86uO6fdSI/s400/Picture+867.jpg" border="0" /></a><font size="2"> The near lifeless frog, I hope it would against all odds,get a second chance at life.<br /></font><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ_T53_RrAd55s2jpod6DvgiESHztQoQAMRN7Ijjt4d9XekwYqUSg04dUKhtOknofoW15cGs-tkWvNQk5yi9lEQuyWISarXnuQPVK6ivJf1IV3mCmpJRX3ITEIu4J9oD50Bj3pCDrNeWA/s1600/Picture+868.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609546203689456914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ_T53_RrAd55s2jpod6DvgiESHztQoQAMRN7Ijjt4d9XekwYqUSg04dUKhtOknofoW15cGs-tkWvNQk5yi9lEQuyWISarXnuQPVK6ivJf1IV3mCmpJRX3ITEIu4J9oD50Bj3pCDrNeWA/s400/Picture+868.jpg" border="0" /></a></font><font face="times new roman">My beloved sister sent me an email from the village containing some spiritual food for thoughts,to soothe this moody and contemplative soul, on a quiet Friday night: -<br /></font><br />把自己的心安住在現在<br />煩煩惱惱要過一生<br />快快樂樂也要過一生<br />為自己找個好方法<br />讓自己安住 安靜的過活<br />很多事情不是用想就可以解決的不是嗎?<br />今天在經集<br />一部經典裡看到這樣的一句話想和分享<br /><br />佛答闍多迦尼問時說: 消滅過去之事 排除將來之事<br />也不執著現在之事 便能平靜的生活~~~共勉之 </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><font face="times new roman">It helps lift up the spirit a bit. I am sometimes just like a lost child needing a gentle pat on the back, to lead me back onto the right path again. Just a little reminder like this to help me focus on the presence, not the past nor the future, for I believe things will fall into its place when you take care of the presence.<br /><br />It may just will...<br /></font><br /><font face="times new roman">So I shed a few tears, let the moment pass, and I am fine again.<br /><br /></font><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4134262781908576921.post-50179070735109040582011-05-04T21:52:00.000-07:002011-05-06T16:44:53.054-07:00Fleeting beauty of a white flower<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj43oYgIQ3T3MssOa-ErCucurTqCOI5UpBJUakL10I21uWJpa_TWsz6skCKjUljWnya4Tei1PSRbhLZLbUjAtorGnotchnBorXTLnWj393UQLt5Q0bm8e3X_PDp6Q64DH8zl0Oi8daCIms/s1600/PC050529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj43oYgIQ3T3MssOa-ErCucurTqCOI5UpBJUakL10I21uWJpa_TWsz6skCKjUljWnya4Tei1PSRbhLZLbUjAtorGnotchnBorXTLnWj393UQLt5Q0bm8e3X_PDp6Q64DH8zl0Oi8daCIms/s400/PC050529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603602957741926562" /></a><br /><br />無常的花<br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">A white lovely flower I like to smell,<br />the scent tantalizingly alluring,<br />sitting bright, young and fresh,<br />on the stem of a sturdy old plant,<br />I gleefully plucked it off from its safe dwelling,<br />to bring it back home<br />hoping its freshness and smell will stay on,<br />as picture of its perpetual scent and attractiveness,<br />being naively painted in my head…<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">But it quickly withered and died a day after,<br />transforming into a darkened lump of dried and crumbled petals,<br />demonstrating quietly, yet unwillingly,<br />of the swiftness with which it changes its physical beauty.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">I despaired a little,<br />over this somewhat glaring facts,<br />that impermanence and fragility,<br />have reared its little ugly heads,<br />but all with noble intention,<br />urging us to learn to live in the moments,<br />to treasure, to appreciate<br />to learn to love with our hearts<br />and to give while we can<br />before all that is worthwhile and good<br />perish into a cottony cloud of nothingness…</span>jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18239485661015444611noreply@blogger.com0