This is the last day.
As effect of 4.30pm, I will no longer go by a 'certain title'.
It comes with a lot of mixed feelings.
I had anticipated that I would be asked this question:
"Why?"
Mentally I had earlier prepared myself to meet a superior who, through the course of the years, know me through our professional dealings. But she too, has left...for a new post. I had to speak to a different person, one who recently rose up to the higher rung.
It would have been easy to simply say that I stepped down for personal reasons.
That has been, and still is, the main factor in my decision.
But I know that I needed to come up with something that will carry more weight, professionally. One cannot simply cite personal reasons.
The other day, a minister toyed with the idea of raising up the retirement age to 68.
....so from 45 (for some services like the army)...to 55 (old minimum withdrawal age)...to 60...and then the current 62.
But given the current financial situation, and longevity of the average Singaporeans, we are inching up.
Bottom line...you work till you have one foot in the grave?
I have been in the teaching service for 21 years already.
If I get my Maths right,...I need to serve another 24 years.
That...at the moment, is just too mind-boggling!
Can I envision myself doing then, what I am doing right now?
Gosh...it is not something that I think I would have the capacity to do.
Without a doubt, as one ages, priorities change.
I have reached a stage in my life where I think family, religion, happiness, good health overide the need for recognition.
This is the reality of life...
I still know that I need to go on earning a living...I love my profession, and will want to contribute as much as I can.
So now, circumstances has pushed myself in this direction.
As hard as it is to let go, I feel that with God's grace, I am ready.
Dear God,
I thank you for the experience of the last 7 years in that chapter of my life. It has both its good and bad times, and its share of challenges. But I have grown from what I have learnt, and my life has been enriched by it. As I close this page, and move on to another, I seek for Your guidance and blessings still. Show me the way, and make me serve You in the way I can.
Ameen
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Finding Myself
As I made my way along the corridor, I passed by the door. A booming voice beckoned me. I braced myself for more work. Lately, the moment I am summoned, I tend to jump. That's how paranoid I have become. Either work, or for a 'gentle remainder' of work not done.
I was told to sit down.
I could not get the image of the Chesire cat, grinning at me.
"Are you still serious about your decision?"
I steeled myself. That, was a loaded question.
My mind was already worn out by an earlier discussion. I felt vulnerable.
I forced myself to look ahead.
"Yes."
The shoulders in front of me slumped a little. It's already past 6. A little late for a battle of wills; too late to try to pull a fast one. Mind games...power games...
I needed to get out of there, quick!
Before...my shields fall.
They know that I have an Archilles heel.
"Ok...prepare your portfolios. But I must say, I don't know what you should have. You got things ready?"
Hope reigns...
Yes, yes, yes!
Those were the sweetest words I heard.
Dear God,
Alhamdulillah.
A shackle has come off.
There are many more I need to unlock.
With you, I am not alone.
Ameen.
I was told to sit down.
I could not get the image of the Chesire cat, grinning at me.
"Are you still serious about your decision?"
I steeled myself. That, was a loaded question.
My mind was already worn out by an earlier discussion. I felt vulnerable.
I forced myself to look ahead.
"Yes."
The shoulders in front of me slumped a little. It's already past 6. A little late for a battle of wills; too late to try to pull a fast one. Mind games...power games...
I needed to get out of there, quick!
Before...my shields fall.
They know that I have an Archilles heel.
"Ok...prepare your portfolios. But I must say, I don't know what you should have. You got things ready?"
Hope reigns...
Yes, yes, yes!
Those were the sweetest words I heard.
Dear God,
Alhamdulillah.
A shackle has come off.
There are many more I need to unlock.
With you, I am not alone.
Ameen.
Apathy Kills
I did this poem with my 4E3...and thought that this would be one way to really get a response from the kids. I have done the theme of hunger with some of my previous kids, and know that no one would be totally immune to what they would see. So with the visuals from Youtube, and pictures from Google Web, I got the students to reflect by the message driven in the poem.
How to Watch a Child Die
Avert your gaze from his eyes,
even if they plead for you to be drawn to their depths.
Instead focus on his sallow complexion
the sun crawling on his aged skin,
the colour of the well-trodden carpet
in your living room;
the spot where you son once threw his football boots
and you missed the bleaching
for the past few years.
Do not try to guess his age
or say, he is older than he looks
as you study his brittle bones, too-large head
and the empty basket of his ribcage
Think instead of the sound they may make
when his body is thrown into a ditch;
the sound of rain whipping through branches,
the cracking of a creek before thaw
or your antique vase
crashing into smithereens
from its place on the mantelpiece.
Turn away from the blank faces of your own children
and make no associations.
Pretend you do not notice
how your teenager leaves her food
uneaten on her plate. (Convince yourself you are
not an escapist) After all,
this skeletal child is merely
a marionette in a macabre fairytale.
Now, ignore the queasy feeling in your stomach
as you get up to dish out the dessert.
Resolve to write to the authorities
to complain for showing such
disturbing footage during dinner.
Be blind to the broken birds of the child’s
hands as he reach out pleading to be held,
the rolling whites of his eyes, the bruised animals
of his lips, parting as he takes his last…
Turn off the television set
Children should not know that
(in some very remote parts of the world)
they may die before their mothers.
By Amanda Chong,16
from Singapore who won the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2005, which is held Britain, is one of 15 winners and the only one from Asia to win this award.
A teen...who captures the idea of how wasteful and apathetic our society can be.
I salute you...for reminding me.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
How do you say goodbye to a child?
Two Sundays ago, I attended the wake of a 14-year old child who lost his battle with leukemia. Timothy was the son of an old friend, June, whom I got to know way back in NUS. Initially, when the news of his passing came about, I did not make the connection. Susannah's young son, Geof, who were classmates, had been shaken by the tragic news because 'the idea of how our fragile mortality suddenly became real. As a mum, I am frightened that I can no longer protect my children from such realities." That was her status update on FB that Friday evening.
I saw the picture of a smiling young man, placed in the obituaries on Saturday. It did seemed a little out of place, for the other pictures were of individuals who were at least fifty years and above at the time of their demise. Again, it was a reminder of how Death, is indeed a leveller, and does not discriminate gender nor age. I took a cursory glance at the names, and also felt a tinge of pain for the parents. It seemed to go against the law of nature that the child goes before the parents.
It was only on Sunday morning when my own 'reality' sank in. Zafran said that former classmates where going to visit his literature teacher, for her son had passed away. June was Zafran's literature teacher...and that was how everything sort of fell into place. I hunted for the papers again, read it carefully , and this time, really felt my heart sinking when I saw June's name there.
Back in our varsity days, I know June had her fair share of adversities...She had endured them all admirably; she is spunky and always saw the proverbial cup as being half full instead of empty. But this...
With Zafran, I made my way to her home. They were having prayer sessions then, so I had a chance to speak to June's Muslim colleague who waited with me outside. They had placed chairs for visitors, and along the walls, were pictures of young Timothy, all smiling, in his school uniform. There I learnt that he had the disease when he was younger, had pulled through, and this was a sudden and unexpected relapse. He developed a high fever on Thursday, and by Friday, he was gone. I can imagine how devastated the parents were.
I saw this so poignantly played in the many scenes that unfolded. A tall man stood dazely by the door to welcome and thank visitors who came. In the line patiently was another man to offer his condolences. Suddenly the tall man caught the other in a bear hug, and bawled. It caught all of us by surprise - by the sudden burst of emotions. From the soothing sounds and bits of exchanges I caught between them...here was the grieving father, and the other, the doctor who had treated Timothy ever since he was young. Both men sought comfort in each other; knowing that a greater being had a 'greater say' in how fate is shaped.
The casket lay in the middle of the living room. The school flag was draped over it. But I was drawn to several things. There were the usual wreaths of flowers; mainly in white orchids, and lilies...but a lady came bearing a single red rose. She gazed down at the face in the casket, and said rather loudly, "Bye Timmy. Don't be cheeky in Heaven". My heart caught momentarily then, and those who listened smiled.
I inched closer, and unconsciously, I sought for Zafran's hands.
I saw the colourful posters and letters Timothy's classmates had written...all placed above the casket...saying goodbyes. They spoke of 'his laughter, his sense of humour and his zest for life'. Under the casket, were a pair of football boots, a soccer ball, and the jersey of his favourite soccer club. Tucked at the corner, was his NCC uniform...all stark reminders of what an active, lively boy he must have been...during his short time on earth.
Over and over again, I rehearsed in my head what to say to June while waiting in line.
I saw her ... standing dignifiedly, thanking people who came to share her grief...as she mourned the loss of her first-born.
Share...how can I ever measure that?
Only God knows the amount of pain she felt...the emotional and spiritual torture.
To have tears flow...even in rivers...but that will never bring that precious life back.
In the meantime, there were two other moments which, by itself, highlights the almost cruel juxtaposition of life and death. June's second son was in the midst of his PSLE exams...and on the day of his brother's funeral, would have to sit for his last science paper...in fact, the funeral service would proceed after his exams. Looking very tired, the 12-year old picked up his book, and sat at the foot of the coffin, reading. He leaned against the hard wood where his brother lay...a very grim reminder to me how life must go on.
June's youngest boy was only 4. I wondered how much he understood what the loss meant to him at the moment. He had stood in line with the rest of the family, and if there was anyone who cried openly, this child, in all his innocence, held the other person in a tight embrace. He said, " Don't worry. Don't cry. Timmy is happy. Timmy is in Heaven. Timmy is not in pain."...maybe these are echoes of the adults who have said this to him...but how much does he really understand? How will the pain be like when he realise that Timmy is never going to be able to play or argue with him anymore?
I reached June. She opened up her hands.
And despite all the things I have practised, I did not know what to say as I hugged my friend.
Maybe there was no need for words...her pain was mine...and my fears were hers.
I watched as she hugged my first born, Zafran and thanked him for coming. And then she turned to me and said..."Love your children, Adibah...love them."
I think I was in a daze after that...for all I knew was of the blessings I had been given as I held tightly the hand of my own child. There were too many unspoken questions.
But...I had one more 'lesson'
Someone else had offered the condolence to June...something was said.
And in all clarity...this was June's remark.
"How do you say goodbye to your child?"
....and that...no mother would wish to have to do.....
RIP Timothy Thambiah
You were truly God's gift to your parents.
May your mother's tears and sorrows be your blessings in the hereafter.
I saw the picture of a smiling young man, placed in the obituaries on Saturday. It did seemed a little out of place, for the other pictures were of individuals who were at least fifty years and above at the time of their demise. Again, it was a reminder of how Death, is indeed a leveller, and does not discriminate gender nor age. I took a cursory glance at the names, and also felt a tinge of pain for the parents. It seemed to go against the law of nature that the child goes before the parents.
It was only on Sunday morning when my own 'reality' sank in. Zafran said that former classmates where going to visit his literature teacher, for her son had passed away. June was Zafran's literature teacher...and that was how everything sort of fell into place. I hunted for the papers again, read it carefully , and this time, really felt my heart sinking when I saw June's name there.
Back in our varsity days, I know June had her fair share of adversities...She had endured them all admirably; she is spunky and always saw the proverbial cup as being half full instead of empty. But this...
With Zafran, I made my way to her home. They were having prayer sessions then, so I had a chance to speak to June's Muslim colleague who waited with me outside. They had placed chairs for visitors, and along the walls, were pictures of young Timothy, all smiling, in his school uniform. There I learnt that he had the disease when he was younger, had pulled through, and this was a sudden and unexpected relapse. He developed a high fever on Thursday, and by Friday, he was gone. I can imagine how devastated the parents were.
I saw this so poignantly played in the many scenes that unfolded. A tall man stood dazely by the door to welcome and thank visitors who came. In the line patiently was another man to offer his condolences. Suddenly the tall man caught the other in a bear hug, and bawled. It caught all of us by surprise - by the sudden burst of emotions. From the soothing sounds and bits of exchanges I caught between them...here was the grieving father, and the other, the doctor who had treated Timothy ever since he was young. Both men sought comfort in each other; knowing that a greater being had a 'greater say' in how fate is shaped.
The casket lay in the middle of the living room. The school flag was draped over it. But I was drawn to several things. There were the usual wreaths of flowers; mainly in white orchids, and lilies...but a lady came bearing a single red rose. She gazed down at the face in the casket, and said rather loudly, "Bye Timmy. Don't be cheeky in Heaven". My heart caught momentarily then, and those who listened smiled.
I inched closer, and unconsciously, I sought for Zafran's hands.
I saw the colourful posters and letters Timothy's classmates had written...all placed above the casket...saying goodbyes. They spoke of 'his laughter, his sense of humour and his zest for life'. Under the casket, were a pair of football boots, a soccer ball, and the jersey of his favourite soccer club. Tucked at the corner, was his NCC uniform...all stark reminders of what an active, lively boy he must have been...during his short time on earth.
Over and over again, I rehearsed in my head what to say to June while waiting in line.
I saw her ... standing dignifiedly, thanking people who came to share her grief...as she mourned the loss of her first-born.
Share...how can I ever measure that?
Only God knows the amount of pain she felt...the emotional and spiritual torture.
To have tears flow...even in rivers...but that will never bring that precious life back.
In the meantime, there were two other moments which, by itself, highlights the almost cruel juxtaposition of life and death. June's second son was in the midst of his PSLE exams...and on the day of his brother's funeral, would have to sit for his last science paper...in fact, the funeral service would proceed after his exams. Looking very tired, the 12-year old picked up his book, and sat at the foot of the coffin, reading. He leaned against the hard wood where his brother lay...a very grim reminder to me how life must go on.
June's youngest boy was only 4. I wondered how much he understood what the loss meant to him at the moment. He had stood in line with the rest of the family, and if there was anyone who cried openly, this child, in all his innocence, held the other person in a tight embrace. He said, " Don't worry. Don't cry. Timmy is happy. Timmy is in Heaven. Timmy is not in pain."...maybe these are echoes of the adults who have said this to him...but how much does he really understand? How will the pain be like when he realise that Timmy is never going to be able to play or argue with him anymore?
I reached June. She opened up her hands.
And despite all the things I have practised, I did not know what to say as I hugged my friend.
Maybe there was no need for words...her pain was mine...and my fears were hers.
I watched as she hugged my first born, Zafran and thanked him for coming. And then she turned to me and said..."Love your children, Adibah...love them."
I think I was in a daze after that...for all I knew was of the blessings I had been given as I held tightly the hand of my own child. There were too many unspoken questions.
But...I had one more 'lesson'
Someone else had offered the condolence to June...something was said.
And in all clarity...this was June's remark.
"How do you say goodbye to your child?"
....and that...no mother would wish to have to do.....
RIP Timothy Thambiah
You were truly God's gift to your parents.
May your mother's tears and sorrows be your blessings in the hereafter.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Driven....away
Doors can shut on you.
They get slammed in your faces.
You look for alternate routes
but is in ensnared in that maze of corridors
with openings all sealed tight.
The walls you try so hard to break
gets fortified so thick that is has become impossible to
even drive a small chink.
You hit a nail in...only to have the hammer swing back at you.
Words you say
Run like drops of water
down the proverbial duck's back.
Nothing goes in...nothing stays.
For words bear no meaning, no significance, no purpose
A hand that tries to reach out
is seen as one that holds a poison apple...
an easy target for the poisoned quills in return.
Each action you take...
viewed with distrust, viewed with hate.
God...
Is my mission done?
You set love as a purpose
but I am weak.
I need to walk away
For I have been driven....away.
They get slammed in your faces.
You look for alternate routes
but is in ensnared in that maze of corridors
with openings all sealed tight.
The walls you try so hard to break
gets fortified so thick that is has become impossible to
even drive a small chink.
You hit a nail in...only to have the hammer swing back at you.
Words you say
Run like drops of water
down the proverbial duck's back.
Nothing goes in...nothing stays.
For words bear no meaning, no significance, no purpose
A hand that tries to reach out
is seen as one that holds a poison apple...
an easy target for the poisoned quills in return.
Each action you take...
viewed with distrust, viewed with hate.
God...
Is my mission done?
You set love as a purpose
but I am weak.
I need to walk away
For I have been driven....away.
Taking stock
I wish I am able to write more often. Because each time I try to sit down to pen down my jumbled thoughts, I get distracted by so many other things. Yes, of course there is such a thing as drafts...but looking at the number of unpublished stuff I have kept in that folder; I know that I will never get back to them....cos the 'moment' is lost...I would not be able to capture what I really wanted to say...at that moment.
Here's a summary of the many things left 'unsaid':
I did it! Finally, the move that I have long anticipated finally materialised.
But it was indeed strange when I realised the amount of mixed emotions that accompanied the official announcement of my stepping down. Immediately, I found myself within the outer circle.
Maybe I am being too sensitive about these things...but really?
Why are people suddenly talking in whispers in front of me?
I know I am no longer a part of the whole planning process...but they ask for my books and materials...they ask for my notes...but then shut me out, without explaining why.
I know that the move upstairs will bring a host of problems too...having to readjust.
People will not know how to respond...or behave...or even trust...
It's going to be like .."You were one of them...you..."
Maybe I am just reading to much into the situation.
...on another note
The exam looms near.
And each time that happens...I go through this whole cycle of ....fear, anger, hope, annoyance...and what nots
Have I done enough? Am I doing enough?
Are they prepared?
There is a lot of personal hope and fear too for my own kids...esp for Akmal and Zafran.
But with that, I leave in the hands of Allah.
I am proud of them...for it is the effort that I am pacified.
One final note to AB (if you do read this)
I really don't know what lead to the exchange last evening.
It started 'harmlessly enough'...but ended really, with ...
I stand by what I have said....I am on your side...
But I supposed...you know best
and if you think I have misunderstood ...
then you are right....
I never know you....
and for that, I failed you...again.
Here's a summary of the many things left 'unsaid':
I did it! Finally, the move that I have long anticipated finally materialised.
But it was indeed strange when I realised the amount of mixed emotions that accompanied the official announcement of my stepping down. Immediately, I found myself within the outer circle.
Maybe I am being too sensitive about these things...but really?
Why are people suddenly talking in whispers in front of me?
I know I am no longer a part of the whole planning process...but they ask for my books and materials...they ask for my notes...but then shut me out, without explaining why.
I know that the move upstairs will bring a host of problems too...having to readjust.
People will not know how to respond...or behave...or even trust...
It's going to be like .."You were one of them...you..."
Maybe I am just reading to much into the situation.
...on another note
The exam looms near.
And each time that happens...I go through this whole cycle of ....fear, anger, hope, annoyance...and what nots
Have I done enough? Am I doing enough?
Are they prepared?
There is a lot of personal hope and fear too for my own kids...esp for Akmal and Zafran.
But with that, I leave in the hands of Allah.
I am proud of them...for it is the effort that I am pacified.
One final note to AB (if you do read this)
I really don't know what lead to the exchange last evening.
It started 'harmlessly enough'...but ended really, with ...
I stand by what I have said....I am on your side...
But I supposed...you know best
and if you think I have misunderstood ...
then you are right....
I never know you....
and for that, I failed you...again.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Alternative Birthday Card
I am looking around for a birthday card like this. If anyone of you know where I can get one, please let me know.(I want to add a disclaimer that I am not a grumpy old lady who has no sense of humour. Neither am I against birthdays, especially those who come of age.
But I wish sometimes, I can say the following things.)
Dear ______________,
Congratulations. You have reached a milestone in your life. Welcome to FREEDOM!
With this magic number, you
a) are legally no longer the responsibility of your parents (meaning - they cannot order you around)
b) can stay up as long as you like, and there is no need for curfews
c) are old enough to drive
d) can watch as many ____-rated movies
e) are old enough to do what you like with your money
f) can "Do what I think is right!"
...and there is a whole litany of what you used to fantasize about what an adult life will be like.
You are right!
Welcome to freedom. Welcome to an age of OBLIGATIONS and RESPONSIBILITIES
With this magic number, you
a) are fully responsible for your thoughts and actions.( remember...parents 'cannot order you around!)
b) can stay up as long as you like, and come home whatever time you want....provided you have your OWN HOME!
c) drive your OWN CAR!
d) (are you really that horny?)
e) Yes...'Do whatever you like with your money" will translate to you paying for your food, necessities, needs, wants and the things that you sometimes do not want like "Income Tax and Road Tax!)
f) Unfortunately, "Do what I think is right"...is not always right. You live in a larger community, governed by rules, laws,moral codes, ethics, common sense and even basic human decency. These will over-ride you.
(and the list goes on...)
So have a happy time today. It is a day of celebration.
But if you can spend some time to reflect on what has been said,
then,
"Many Happy Returns. Welcome to the real world!"
May you live life to the fullest.
Lots of love,
ME
But I wish sometimes, I can say the following things.)
Dear ______________,
Congratulations. You have reached a milestone in your life. Welcome to FREEDOM!
With this magic number, you
a) are legally no longer the responsibility of your parents (meaning - they cannot order you around)
b) can stay up as long as you like, and there is no need for curfews
c) are old enough to drive
d) can watch as many ____-rated movies
e) are old enough to do what you like with your money
f) can "Do what I think is right!"
...and there is a whole litany of what you used to fantasize about what an adult life will be like.
You are right!
Welcome to freedom. Welcome to an age of OBLIGATIONS and RESPONSIBILITIES
With this magic number, you
a) are fully responsible for your thoughts and actions.( remember...parents 'cannot order you around!)
b) can stay up as long as you like, and come home whatever time you want....provided you have your OWN HOME!
c) drive your OWN CAR!
d) (are you really that horny?)
e) Yes...'Do whatever you like with your money" will translate to you paying for your food, necessities, needs, wants and the things that you sometimes do not want like "Income Tax and Road Tax!)
f) Unfortunately, "Do what I think is right"...is not always right. You live in a larger community, governed by rules, laws,moral codes, ethics, common sense and even basic human decency. These will over-ride you.
(and the list goes on...)
So have a happy time today. It is a day of celebration.
But if you can spend some time to reflect on what has been said,
then,
"Many Happy Returns. Welcome to the real world!"
May you live life to the fullest.
Lots of love,
ME
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