Heart of the damned

Rest now, my foolish heart
Yours is a legacy of ignorant bliss
A misunderstood work of art
Cursed to never find everlasting peace

Rest now, my bleeding heart
Rest well, and long, and deep
In life you were tortured and torn apart
In death you are mine to keep

I am a believer!

I also read the 'Origin of Species' by Charles Darwin (also a long time coming) and here is my favourite quote

"Therefore I should infer from analogy that probably all the organic beings which have ever lived on this earth have descended from some one primordial form, into which life was first breathed."

I don't know him but I love him

I have finished reading the autobiography of Nelson Mandela, ‘Long Walk to Freedom’ which was long overdue. I find it impossible not to love this man!

Here are some of my favourite quotes from the book (not all of it are quotes from Nelson Mandela):

 

§  “Exercise dissipates tension, and tension is the enemy of serenity”.

 

§  “…education was the enemy of prejudice”.

 

§  “Black by nature, proud by choice”.

 

§  “I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it… The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear”.

 

§  “No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite”.

 

§  “Man’s goodness is a flame that can be hidden but never extinguished”.

 

§  A quote from Abraham Lincoln:

“It is wise to persuade people to do things and make them think it is their own idea”.

 

§  And the concept of “Ubuntu” in African culture – it comes from the Zulu proverb “Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu” which means a person is a person through other people; people are empowered by other people; that we become our best selves through unselfish interaction with others

Feeling like a song...

I've been feeling like this song for quite some time now, I think I should listen to my heart even if it leads me down disaster road. 

OneRepublic - Stop & Stare  

This town is colder now, I think it's sick of us
It's time to make our move, I'm shakin' off the rust
I've got my heart set on anywhere but here
I'm staring down myself, counting up the years

Steady hands just take the wheel
Every glance is killing me
Time to make one last appeal
For the life I lead

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah, I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be, oh

Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you're here not there
And you'd give anything to get what's fair
But fair ain't what you really need
Oh, can you see what I see?

They're tryin' to come back, all my senses push
Untie the weight bags, I never thought I could
Steady feet, don't fail me now
I'm gonna run till you can't walk
Something pulls my focus out
And I'm standing down

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah, I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be, oh

Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you're here not there
And you'd give anything to get what's fair
But fair ain't what you really need
Oh, you don't need

What you need, what you need
What you need

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah, I know that everyone gets scared
I've become what I can't be
Oh, do you see what I see?

What's the point again?

At the end of the day, I am but human. I, too, grow old. I fall sick. I need rest. I need sleep. I need exercise. I need some fun. I need holidays. I need to make up for lost time with my family. I need space. I need peace. I need a life outside of work.

I can’t be expected to work like how I used to work 10 years ago. I have paid my dues. The late nights, the bags underneath my eyes with veins so red it looked like it was about to burst, the premature greying, the working over the weekends and holidays (if there were any), the constant worrying, the running around, the rushing – I did it all. All in the name of ‘career’. It’s not as if I got to where I am today without putting in real hard work. So don’t act as if I should be eternally grateful for what I have now. None of this was handed to me on a silver platter. I have sacrificed significant amounts of time and energy, at the expense of friends and family, to get to where I am today.

And it is still expected of me! It’s like every waking moment that I have I have to spend it on working. Why? Because I have nothing better to do in life? Because other people’s time are more precious than mine? Because I have targets to meet? Because I am being paid a salary? Why why why?

If the same is expected of everyone then I will not complain. But George Orwell was right – some people are more equal than others. Other people can go back at a decent hour every day, they are not expected to work weekends or whilst on holiday, they are given latitudes wider than the span of the Atlantic Ocean. And yet, they get the same benefits (if not more) than I do, so really, what’s the point of it all?

I am not a robot. If I am continued to be treated like one, I will break down due to over capacity and disintegrate. And I can rest assured that I will not be missed. On the contrary, I will be replaced by another unsuspecting robot.

No one said it's fair

Life is unfair. I know this. Mothers will always have their favourite child (although they will deny this till the day they die). Attractive people will always have it easier. As will apple polishers, people with influential fathers or relatives, people with money, people with power. For those of us who have none of these things except a pleasant personality and a heart in the right place (present company included), we will just have to continue struggling to survive. Nice guys always finish last. But I’d rather be myself and finish last, than be someone else and finish first.

Books

Books! I love books. Always have, always will. Damn the internet and it’s “but-you-can-find-anything-and-everything- online” zombie followers. Of course it’s useful. But nothing beats a good book. The touch, the feel, the smell, the comfort of a book cannot compare to anything else in the world.

The trick about reading for me is that I like to read what I like to read when I want to read. I can’t be forced to read something because everyone says it’s good or because it’s a best seller or because it’s the “in thing” to be reading a particular book. (This explains why I was never very good at studies, because I was forced to read all them geography and history books – let’s not even talk about chemistry and physics! This also explains why I don’t like work that much because again, I am forced to read things that I don’t necessarily want to read at that point in time.)

I love the English language. It’s not my mother tongue but it’s the first language I ever learned and I express myself the best in English. With the exception of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Moby Dick (my favourite book of all time!!) I prefer English authors. (No, I am not suffering from a colonial hangover.) From Enid Blyton to Thomas Hardy, Charles Dickens, Agatha Christie and now Sophie Hannah and Val McDermid.

Apart from an intriguing story line that will take me to places I have never been to before (and some places I never will, except in my head), good authors also inspire me with their poetic prose, wit and artistic use of words. Some things are said so concisely yet beautifully, it lifts my spirit – “...would you bypass curious in your haste to get to furious?” (Sophie Hannah, The Carrier).

If only there was more time to indulge. Now isn’t that a complaint you often hear.

Friendship is overrated

There is a certain code of conduct that I expect from people. I know what they say, if there are no expectations there will be no disappointments. But they also say no man is an island. Everyone needs, or has to have friends (I disagree with the latter but we will assume for present purposes that no man is an island). When it comes to people who you wish to call friends, that’s just the way it is for me. There has to be a certain code of conduct. If you fall below that code, then I cannot consider you my friend. Of course, things can change. But it will take a heck of a lot to change my mind once you have disappointed me.

This is why I have very few friends. I am not complaining. People say I have unrealistic expectations of people. For me, it is very simple. I expect to be treated the same way I would treat another person. The moment you do not do that, you are not my friend. I don’t think this is too much to ask. I’m not asking you to walk on fire or run a marathon to prove your friendship. I’m asking for the barest minimum – trust, loyalty, love. If that is too much to ask, so be it. I’d rather be an island. 

I am happy

I never thought I would ever say this again. I am happy. It took me more than 3 years to be happy again. To be happy with just the way things are. With my girls, with the sun, with the birds singing, with running in the park, with my new car. Not caring about the past or the future, but just basking in the present.

And I’m proud to say that I didn’t delve into drugs or medication or alcohol or shrinks to get out of depression. That’s not to say that I haven’t done anything that I’m not proud of. There were some embarrassing situations in the past, mostly from bad exercise of judgment. But if you’re not in the right frame of mind, you tend to do that. You’re not yourself and therefore not truly guarded and unable to see reason or listen to good advice. I don’t look at it as something I regret, but something I have learned and take with me so that I don’t go down that path again. It was a necessary evil, if you must.  

I wanted to die for all the wrong reasons. I still can’t stop death. It is bound to happen. But if it happens now, I die happy, I die doing the things I like doing, I die knowing that I was useful in this world. That makes me somebody. I am not anonymous. And that’s always better than to die thinking you should never have been born in the first place.

Doctors will tell you that depressed people need help. Not everyone is the same so yes, some people may need help. But the best doctor to heal your soul is really yourself. Because no one knows you better than you know yourself. And if you don’t know who you are, it’s about time you go find out. It has made all the difference to me.  

Nature vs nurture

Ask anyone and they will tell you that I am as Malaysian as they get. I love all things Malaysian, idiotic politicians included. But taking a step back, ethnically I am Indian. My paternal grandfather was born and bred in South India and he came to Malaysia at a fairly young age to earn a living. Same story with my maternal grandfather except that he came from Sri Lanka. My parents were born and bred in Malaysia, and I am second generation Malaysian.

Recently I became acquainted with someone who comes from India. As in born and bred in India, but is currently working in Malaysia. Now, one would think we would have a lot in common since we have similar roots. But ironically, there is such a gap between us in terms of outlook in life, values, culture, the way of thinking, that we are really from 2 different worlds altogether. That’s not to say that there’s anything wrong with him or with me. It’s just that we were brought up in 2 different countries altogether, in very different environments, so that although we’re both Indian, we’re as different as night and day.

Oddly, I find more similarities with my European acquaintances!

Nurture is definitely more powerful, or more influential, than nature.

The right not to vote

This is not about politics. This is not about who’s better than who. This is not about competition. This is not about the imposition of opinion on others. This is about rights.

I did not vote at the last general elections. I am not going to justify my actions. This is not the right place or forum to do so. On the day of the elections, there was a write up on facebook about how people who don’t exercise their right to vote have no right to call themselves citizens of Malaysia, and have no right to complain about anything, from potholes to corruption, and that we are just a bunch of ignorant fools.

Excuse me?  I am as Malaysian as they get. What people don’t realize is that the right to vote must necessarily include the right NOT to vote. It’s my right, no matter what my reasons may be.  

When I ask people why they voted, the answers vary from “we want to give the opposition a stronger voice”, to “we want to see some changes”, to “we have had enough of corruption”, to “it’s my right to vote”. Well, here’s what I think. One should vote for the party one thinks will really work for the country. And if that party loses, well, that’s just democracy in motion – majority wins. Any other reason a person may have for voting, for me, is crap. That’s my opinion. Just like other people may think that me exercising my right NOT to vote is crap.

So who is right and who is wrong? Neither. You want to vote, go right ahead. You don’t want to vote, that’s your choice too. Don’t turn around and tell me that you’re more Malaysian than I am because you voted and I didn’t. Seriously! Am I worse than someone who gets paid to vote for a certain party? Or someone who votes and then proceeds to commit crimes? Or someone who makes an informed choice not to vote as opposed to someone who will vote for just about any party because “the opposition must have a stronger voice”? Come on.

The best irony is that these people who champion rights – the right to vote, the right to free speech, the right to assemble – will be the first to criticize anyone who doesn’t follow THEIR train of thought. For example, by disowning me as a Malaysian because I did not vote. What happened to free speech, free choice? I guess it’s free so long as I do it according to their rules.

In which case, what’s the difference between them and the government of the day?

  

The apple does not fall far from the tree

There was a time when if anyone said I was just like my mother I would get angry because in my mind, I am the total opposite of her. When I was younger I tried to do the opposite of what she did because I did not want to be like my mother. She’s a great person, but we were so different that growing up I couldn’t get along with her, and we would fight about almost everything. My father had to be the umpire, referee, linesman, you name it. And more often than not, he would take her side because her tantrums used to be worse than mine and good luck to whoever is not on her side.

Fast forward to the present. I see my mother in me now than ever before. Without knowing, we are doing so many similar things together. When I went back home the last time, I found that she was collecting RM20 notes because it is orange and so pretty. So am I. I also found out that she randomly distributes ‘ang pow’ or small gifts to the workers in restaurants she frequents, or neighbours or acquaintances who are objectively poor. So do I. And here’s the best part. When she found out that someone had hurt my feelings, her comment was “I have a can of red spray paint somewhere...” That is so something that would also cross my mind.

My mother has mellowed down over the years. While I may still disagree with the way she handled things in the past, she has become a person I now respect and love dearly.

My father told me a long time ago that I couldn’t get along with my mother in the past because our characters are similar, but because our characters are similar, we will one day get along very well. I’m sure my father would have forgotten that he ever told me that. But how true his words of wisdom are!

So now if anyone said I was just like my mother, I would be proud and honoured. It’s a compliment. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.   

I quote...

"...On the edge of the roof a faded and tattered prayer-flag was flapping away. "Young man," the old monk said, "tell me: is it the wind that is in motion, or is it only the flag that is moving?"

"What did you say?" I asked.

"I said, 'Both are moving, Holy One.' "

"The monk shook his head, clearly disappointed by my ignorance. "One day you will realize that there is no wind, and the flag does not move," he said. "It is only the hearts and minds of men that are restless." "


-  The Garden of Evening Mists, Tan Twan Eng 

No way out

I, for one, never thought that my life would end up like this. And yet, here I am.

From here on end, I foresee a dark, narrow, winding path with treacherous cliffs on either side, where one wrong move can send me spiraling to an abyss so deep and dark that there will be no way out. And no matter which path I choose from now on, I still can't see the bloody light at the end of the tunnel because for me, there is just no light. That's just the way it is.

I am trapped and there's no way out. No one can help me because no one understands, or they simply do not want to understand. I'm tired of hearing people tell me maybe you should do this or maybe you should do that. All these maybes just give me a whole lotta hope which has turned out to be a whole lotta nought. So enough of listening to people. Enough of maybes. Enough of waiting.

I wish there was a procedure out there where I can replace this sad heart with a happy heart, even for a few seconds. Because I honestly cannot remember the last time I was truly happy. And no matter what I do, I can't seem to be happy.  Grief follows me around like an unwanted shadow, a parasitic twin that has eaten away at all that was good in me, and it still scavenges for more knowing full well that I have nothing left to give. Soon i will be no more. Perhaps then I will find my happiness again.

Twilight zone!

It was a dark and stormy night. No, actually, it wasn't.

It was about 7.30 in the evening and still a bit of light left in the day. My parents were sending me to the airport in Kuantan and I arrived late because there was a jam on the way due to an accident. After a somewhat rushed goodbye I headed towards the boarding area and out of the boarding gate towards the plane.

In the Kuantan airport one has to work towards the plane, much like how one boards Air Asia planes. My parents and I have this ritual going on whereby they will stand behind the fence at a particular spot so that as I'm walking towards the plane, I get to see them and wave goodbye right up until I am actually in the plane.

So as usual when I exit the boarding area and head for the plane I turn around and there they were, my parents, standing at the fence and waving goodbye. I in turn also wave goodbye and in the course of walking towards the plane, I turned around at least 3 times and wave goodbye, and they also waved in return.

I then get on the plane and the landing was pretty scary, just before touching the runway the plane veered sharply to the left and I thought we were gonna crash for sure! People screamed, I accidentally grabbed the arm of the person siting next to me. What?? It was a natural reaction I tell you! Anyway, we didn't crash. 

 Upon alighting, I called my parents to tell them about the scary landing, and they asked me why I went into the plane so fast without waving goodbye, I should know that they would be waiting at the fence. Whereupon I told them that I did wave at them and they waved back! But they swear that they never saw me at all and hence, never waved at all.

!!!

Since then, there have been a couple of weird occurrences, like my tyre getting punctured but when I took it to the tyre shop, the man said there were no holes in the tyre, and it looked as if someone let the air out. And then the tv speakers suddenly didn't function and after a while, came back on by itself. Similarly with the hair dryer.

I don't believe in ghosts or fairies or elves or goblins, but Pahang is famous for 'orang bunian' which is something like fairies or elves in Malay folklore. If all of this is their work, I hope they follow me home to Kuantan tomorrow and stay there where they belong!

Give me a break

I had been waiting patiently for the arrival of The Good Wife Season 4. There I was, finished with all my errands and eagerly awaiting the show. And what do you know, my speakers decide to do a number on me and I had to watch the entire episode in mute, while reading the subtitles. Go figure.

I know this is a very minor setback in the bigger scheme of things, but this is life for me. You wait patiently for something good to happen but nothing ever does. Everything good that has happened is a result of my own efforts and hard work. Granted, the one good thing that has happened is that I have good parents. Apart from that, everything else I had to work for. 

Whereas things that I don't want keep coming my way, from frivolous things like a flat tyre to bigger problems like defending myself against what I call 'evil'.

The great paradox of life. That's what it is. I guess all I'm asking for is a break. 

This is what it feels like

It grips you. You can try to tame it, or contain it, or store it away in the furthest nether region that you can find, or hide it, or ignore it, or run for your life. But it eventually finds you. And when it does, it just grips you with the jaws of death itself and suffocates you until you truly believe that you will die. But you don't. Somehow you always convince yourself that you are a survivor, you are strong, you are worthy, you will live. And you do.

But it will always find you. And you end up going through this whole maddening process again. And then you ask yourself, is it really worth it? Is life really worth it? Am I really worth it?

Let me vent

Sometimes I am not asking for a solution. Sometimes there ARE no solutions. Sometimes all I want is a sympathetic ear to listen to me complaining and whining about the world, my life, everything. And yes, I do have a tendency of repeating myself. I don't expect to be judged or to be belittled. I know everyone has problems. I'm not for a moment saying that my problems are bigger than other people's. All I'm saying is that I too have problems. Some days are harder than others. I just need someone to listen, to tell me it's not that bad, even if I don't believe it.

Is that too much to ask?

Not good enough

The problem is that I am good, but not good enough.

Not good enough for my bosses, for my friends, for my ex-boyfriends, for my teachers in university, for my teachers in school, for my parents, for God. Yes, I am loved, but there is and will always be someone or something else that they love more.

I am not good enough. Never was, never am, never will be.

When in doubt...

I have tried again and again to explain my position to people. They still don’t get it. Go figure. Even my own parents don’t understand me, I really can’t expect the world to.

To them, I am in need of “professional help”, “wallowing in self pity”, “drama”, “selfish”. These are actual words used by actual people. I am sitting here wondering why I am still friends with these clowns.

If doing something that society deems joyful brings me dread, sorrow, grief, why in the world should I partake in that something just because society says it’s a joyful occasion? Because, according to one person, I am being selfish, all I think about is my own point of view. Well tough! If I don’t look out for myself, who the hell will? Why should I torture myself this way? Life is bad enough as it is.

And what they don’t understand is I can turn around and accuse them of being selfish, because knowing how torturous this is for me, they still expect me to do it. Isn’t that selfish?

And now let’s talk about professional help. I’m getting a lot of that lately. Personally I think they are tired of hearing my problems (which do not have solutions by the way), that they want me to be someone else’s problem. But that of course is not being selfish, that is purportedly being a caring friend.

Let me end by quoting what my dear friend told me when, in my grief, I asked him whether he thinks I need professional help.

His response :    Choyyy

                          We are each other’s professional help

                           ......

My response :   And this is why you are my best friend ever!

And that, my friends, is what a true friend will say to you.

What's the point of being good?

Don’t ever believe for a second that being good gets you anywhere. It gets you no where. Of course, I’m no angel but I’m certainly no devil either. And I know more than a few devils who are living happily ever after. Isn’t that getting the cake and eating it too? What do I get for being good? Self satisfaction? Overrated. Being able to sleep at night? Overrated. A clear conscience? Overrated. The answer is nothing. I get nothing for being good. 

It's time to switch camps. 

What promises?

I don't know how it has come to this. I thought I was full of promises. Of course, like any child, I fell off the well trodden path more than a few times to the horror of my parents and relatives, but even if they didn't know it, I always knew that I was worth just as much, if not more, than the next person.

From a life full of promises to a life of meager existence. Work, gym, occasional holidays, occasional hanging out or chatting with friends, occasional balik kampung, what does it all mean? Most of the time I feel restless, like I should or could do something more with my life but complacency has set me in a comfort zone so that I'm not motivated to go the extra mile.
I'm literally sitting on my ass, watching the world go by, and wondering about all those empty promises. Or broken promises. Same difference. 

Songs

I like how for me, a song captures what I'm feeling at that particular time, and traps those feelings into its melody so that whenever I hear that particular song, whatever I was feeling at that particular time all comes rushing back at me. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. Sometimes, long after you have forgotten that you were feeling a particular way at a particular time, an old song will bring back long buried memories and waves of nostalgia. 'Tis nice!

Whiny wusses

Some people are so self centered they think they are the only ones with problems in this world, and they get upset when other people don't put their lives on hold to help them out. They fail to realize or understand that other people also have problems of their own, and the more these other people sacrifice their time to help these whiny wusses, the less time they have to sort out their own problems. And you can rest assured that these whiners will not help you out when it's you who need help, because how dare you ask them for help when they have so many problems to handle and no one is helping them, whine, whine, whine. 

Grow up already. Sort out your own problems, and do it responsibly without dragging everyone around you into your selfish world. Maybe they should try helping others who are less fortunate for a change. But the best part is, I think even if they were to help the less fortunate, it still wouldn't change their perception that their problems are bigger than everyone else's. What to do with these kind of people. Ignore!

Today is what matters

I was feeling grouchy the whole of today, because it's Saturday and I ought to be resting or reading a book or drinking a beer but instead I had all these errands to do, life is not going to just take care of itself! And things didn't go quite as planned because Celcom was closed today, my friend was late for lunch, there was traffic everywhere, the entire population of greater KL was in Ikea (and I'm not fond of human beings at all!) so in a nutshell everything was delayed and I didn't get to finish all my errands.

Then my friend informs me that her dad passed away. And suddenly, just like that, nothing seemed important at all. So what if I didn't finish running my errands today? So what if I didn't read a book today? So what if I didn't drink beer today? 

At least I still have tomorrow. Some people don't. 

Vengeance vs justice

By now the brutal rape and murder of a 23 year old medical student in India is international news. It's an incident that is so unnecessary. I'm sure everyone is asking how did this happen, why did this happen. I understand that the accused were not on any drugs, they only consumed alcohol. So what could make someone commit such a heinous act like that? 

I've asked myself this question before; do I have it in me to kill another human being? The answer is startlingly yes. I think all of us are capable of murder in the "right" context or situation. But the majority of us (and I'm talking about normal people and not people with mental health issues) have the ability to control our (psychotic) murderous tendencies either by upbringing, or social values, or religion, or moral values, or some other form of restraint. 

So do these accused have none of the controlling factors in place? But I reckon many people with similar backgrounds as the accused do exist in the world and I don't think all of them commit heinous crimes like this.

So what is it that made them do what they did? In order to subject any living thing to such cruelty, more so a human being, surely one must truly have such hatred, or perhaps evil, in their very souls. I can't imagine hating anyone that much to inflict that amount of pain and torture on another living being. Because if I were to do that, what does that say of me as a human being? 

Of course, I think the accused deserve to be tortured and executed. If someone did that to a person I love, I have no qualms about seeking them out to the ends of the earth and executing them myself. Some may call it vengeance, I call it justice. But! I will stop short at torturing them. I don't think I have it in me. Or do I? Do we all have it in us if we are pushed to a corner?

If you believe that all babies were born good, how did the accused end up being evil? 

Still sweeping

I've already written about how I keep sweeping things under the carpet because I don't want to deal with a lot of the issues plaguing my life. But it's becoming harder and harder to ignore these vile things under the carpet when everyone around me seems to be getting married and having children, and that choice may never come my way.

If I don't have a child of my own, does that make me lesser of a daughter or a woman? My brain says of course not but my heart says maybe. Deciding for your own is quite different from having things decided for you. Exercising a choice is power, not having a choice is... Well that's just sad.