Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Pages from the Past: One Bad Apple



Recently I cleared my cupboards, and came upon a 'relic'. Long before the internet age, I had penned down my writing in notebooks.  There were a few of them; old, yellowed and the ink barely legible due to age. But I felt a sense of excitment; for in those pages were stories I wrote when I harboured a secret desire to be a writer someday.  Hahaha...how things have changed.

But for those of who who enjoy writing, here is one entitled, "One Bad Apple".

She lost count how many times she had polished the fruit.
As a child, she had helped Grandma at the small market stall and knew that the customers would always be attracted to fruits that looked juicy and fresh.  The red apple gleamed under the pale night sky, its frangrance redolent.

"Why do you line up your apples and pears this way, Nana?  How come you put aside those?" Edwina heard her child-like voice asking Grandma years ago. Meticulously, Grandma  would go through the baskets of produce each morning, checking every individual fruit.

A gentle, wrinkled face smiled back and patted her head rather absently.
"Win, these are the that we sell.  You see those in the other basket?" Grandma's voice was soft, patient and soothing.  She walked over slowly, and took up an apple, that to Edwina's eyes, no different from the rest.  Grandma placed the it into the little girl's hands. The hands that covered hers were warm and comforting.

"Look carefully Win.  What do you see? What do you smell? What can you feel?"
Edwina stared long and hard.  The apple had a deep red skin, and a slight fruity yet tarty smell.  It was round and firm...and yet at the bottom, was a tender, bruised spot, that was soft to the touch.

"It's different here, Nana." she chirped, happy at the sudden discovery.  Otherwise, the fruit would have been perfect.

"That, my child, makes all the difference why I put it in this basket and not there.  You see, this apple is spoilt.  If I leave it together with the other apples, within a few days, all the other apples would go bad too.  There is a Western saying,"One bad apple spoils the whole barrel."...So you be good ok Wina, and grow up and make me happy."

"Of course Grandma...I love you the best in the whole wide world." she promised as she skipped away to play.

...Grandma...
Her reverie was momentarily broken and Edwina shivered when a cold wind blew.
The water lapped gently below her knees.
"Oh Grandma...I miss you."

Fate dealt her a cruel blow, and Edwina's sole caregiver left quietly one night to meet her Creator.  Edwina at 18, was left to fend for herself.  A little too old to be made ward of the state, and a little too young to be financially independent, Edwina had no choice but to leave her sheltered existence behind.  Not only did she lose her beloved Nana, she losely lost herself too.

She had to give up her hopes and dreams.
She had excelled in school, but could not afford to carry on.
She went out like a proverbial sacrificial lamb into the world of hungry predators...and a new Edwina emerged.  She met a much older man named Lionel who promised her the earth, moon and the entire universe.  He swept her off her feet, and for awhile, Edwina felt loved and safe again.

But she soon learnt the bitter truths about life.
She learnt the ugly side of human nature, and how promises can be empty.  She saw how cruel fate can be, when Lionel, upon learning that she was pregnant, had discarded her like a broken, unwanted toy.

"Ms Edwina...I am sorry to inform you...that..you are HIV positive."

Momentarily her eyes flew open as she shuddered at the memory.
The doctor's voice was cold and distanced...as if he blamed her for the fate about to befall on her unborn child.  Lionel had left her with two parting gifts...

By then, Edwina was oblivious to the cold.
She gently patted her rounded belly tenderly, and allowed herself to feel the slight butterfly-like moments of the life within her. "Poor little baby. You will be all right."

She again held up the apple against the starless sky.
She looked around for the tiny bruised spot.

"I am so sorry, Grandma.  I failed you.  I am your bad apple. But I will not spoil anyone else.
That...I will promise."

With that, she flung the fruit ahead in the water...and slowly allowed herself to be embraced by the cold, open sea.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

A Happy Song


I woke up feeling a little better early this morning. I managed to say what I wanted to say to a certain someone, and the shoulders felt much lighter.  I had a good day too, in the company of the family and loved ones, listening to their endless chatter and animated 'discussions.'  And at night,  I cuddled a bundle of warm fur who snuggled up close to sleep with me.

I have decided to listen to a simple but happy song, to further boost my spirits.
I used to listen to it as a child; when life was much slower and less complicated then.

"All Kinds of Everything"
-by Dana

Snowdrops and daffodils

butterflies and bees
sailboats and fishermen
things of the sea
wishing-wells
wedding bells
early morning dew
all kinds of everything remind me of you

Seagulls and aeroplanes
things of the sky
winds that go howlin'
breezes that sigh
city sights
neon lights
grey skies or blue
all kinds of everything remind me of you

Summertime
wintertime
spring and autumn too
Monday
Tuesday every day
I think of you.

Dances
romances
things of the night
sunshine and holidays
postcards to write
Budding trees
autumn leaves
a snowflake or two
all kinds of everything remind me of you.

Summertime
wintertime
spring and autumn too
seasons will never change
the way that I love you.

Dances
romances
things of the night
sunshine and holidays
postcards to write
Budding trees
autumn leaves
a snowflake or two
all kinds of everything remind me of you.

All kinds of everything remind me of you.
(especially for you, my Blue Butterfly)

Dear God
Thank you for all your blessings and benevolence
I submit before you in gratitude
Ameen

Friday, November 27, 2009

One of THOSE days


Aw shucks...
I know I am on one of those downward cycles again.
I am not blaming anyone, but maybe...though I wish I am not able to absorb vibes so easily.
The radar tingles and my antennae is on high alert...and the colours I see are sober..

So this is for both me and you, and you and you....(I think you get it)

Some days, we all feel like it is better to hide under the sheets and not move at all.
Our expressions become dour, and for me, I find it so irritating when others are so chirpy.
That's when I want to 'enjoy' feeling downright miserable and sorry for myself.

Things will never always work the way I want to...all my good intentions are rejected, or misunderstood.
I think that people have let me down, and in return I let others down too.
Wounds fester, the spirit get broken, and scarily, it seems so easy to just give up and give in.

At times like this, the inner child voices a lot of negativity.
It is pessimistic and distrustful...

Who am I? What am I? Where am I going? How do I get there? Why? What for?
1 001 questions filled my already muddled head.

But today...is here.
Whatever was - is in the past.
The future is yet to be realised.

So two day, Dee...two days at most...
Though the prognosis is not good...claw up
Do not give up without a fight.

Dear God,
It is all in Your Hands.
Pasrah.
Ameen

Disappointment

I am disappointed.
At someone, because of something.

I wish I could just say it straight to this someone's face.
But I can't...because....
sigh...just because.

I suppose expectations have to be managed.
Mine will change...though I have no right to ask of that person.

Arrrghhhh....
Occasionally it is good to yell once in a while.
Let me blow my top...and maybe I will be calmer to discuss this through.

You let me down.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Lost


Today, as I am sitting at my table, I felt rather unsettled.  Yes, I do know I am bothered by something, be it the soft clicks I hear, or the voice that keeps talking to me in my head.
I have been in the office, mostly by myself this past week, and maybe the silence can be overwhelming.  To keep me a little grounded, I read.  And I came across this nice poem which I want to share.

Lost
by Dan Brown
Lost in a world, that scares me to death,
Lost in a crowd, I'm losing my breath.
Lost as a boy, lost as a man,
I need to grow up, don't think I can.

Lost as a person, can't find my way.
Lost in life, every day.
Lost in worry, who am I?
All my life, I've lived a lie.

Lost to kindness, lost to love,
Lost in a sky, like a new-born dove.
Lost in thought, which I shouldn't do,
It winds me up, I can’t get through.

Lost to comfort, all kind words,
Lost to advice, it isn't heard.
Lost to those who really care,
All these people, always there.

Lost in me, I need a break,
Lost in wonder, which road to take?
Lost in a place I don't know well,
Where are you now? There's no one to tell.

Lost here, all alone,
Lost apart from the mobile phone.
Lost still, there are no calls.
I'm struggling alone, to break these walls.

Lost in mind, lost in soul,
Lost memories, they're just a hole.
Lost family, lost mate,
Gone now, yet I'm full of hate.

Lost in a straight world, and I am gay,
Lost now, for what to say,
Lost in boredom, think I'll leave.
There's a lot in life I need to achieve.
-Dan Brown

Firstly, I am not sure if this Dan Brown is THE Dan Brown of the Da Vinci Code...
But whoever this poet is, well, he does capture the angst of many a 'lost' soul.


How does one get 'lost'?
In many different ways I suppose.
We don't each come with a manual that we can refer to as we go on our journey.
It is something that we all have to go through ourselves..
We all do not take the same road, and our obstacles are never the same.

Each person walks alone...but along the way, we sometimes have people who accompany us through various stages.
Those who are surrounded by others, find that they have a lot of support and guidance.
Those who are literally on their own...will somehow have to struggle through.

If we don't stop to ask for directions...we will lose our way.
When we do not stop and even question why we are travelling along that road...we may get lost even more.

And when we are lost,
search deep within ourselves...
maybe you will find the answers there

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

The Inner Child - I want to listen.


We all have fears...both rational and irrational ones.
One thing that is quite common is that we get frightened because we don't know...and when we 'don't know', we feel insecure. When insecurity sets in, we feel rather helpless and vulnerable.  Worse still, when we have little self-assurance, we are unsure whether we can even trust overselves.

We tend to talk to ourselves...whether aloud or in our heads.
Some of us then listen with our hearts, or allow the mind to rationalise the series of internal questions that pop up.
But how many times, do we give in to immature, wilful and sometimes downright silly thoughts that we have?  We claim to be able to think things through, yet the inner child within can be still very powerful.

An inner child...
Popular psychology refers to in as the childlike aspect of a person's psyche.
I think that the inner child is the 'mother to all our emotions'. It often reflects our deepest thoughts also which govern our immediate or spontenous reaction. Through education, experiences and conditioning, we sometimes learn to 'school and rein in' our child-like state. If one has had a positive childhood, the adult that emerges may be resilient, warm and fun...but if the inner child has been wounded, that is when the product can be rather disturbing.

Well, the topic of the inner child is complex and deep.
But I want to go back to the idea of talking with our inner child.
Since we do that all the time, do we really listen to ourselves?

As I grow older, I am very much aware of my Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde personalities.
My outer personality is very distinct from my true self.  But that does not mean I am crazy. I just sometimes need the two to work in tandem.  I must make sure that one talks, the other is listening...and not just having an internal quarrel in my head. It is not a simple matter of reason and mature thoughts triumphing over the impulsive, carefree ones...

So lets start...

Dear God,
When things are tough, I know I can rely on you.
At the same time, help me to become strong too...in character, spirit, and in mind.
Do not let my faith waver...and help me let others see, the wonders of Your Ways.
Ameen

Monday, November 23, 2009

Of porcupines, rabbits and those who need to find love


Yesterday I got poked.
Very badly by a porcupine whose defense mechanisms were on full alert.
It was my fault actually.
The porcupine did not do anything, but I had tried to touch it.  And that was when the quills came up automatically.
One stabbed right through...and I am bleeding right now.

Maybe I am in a melancholic mode, and somehow managed to pick up a book that I want to speak about.
It has been a long time since a book moved me to tears, especially one that is written for a target audience of between 8-12.  But believe me, those of who who have read this, will understand the power of the theme the writer, Kate DiCamillo has put across so stirringly.

The title is " The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane".
Very simply, it is a tale of a beautifully crafted rabbit made out of fine china.  The tale is narrated from this toy's (Edward) perspective.  He was created prefectly, and thought that he was the best thing ever. He was so full of himself.  He needed nothing and no one.  He was incapable of feelings because he was just porcelain, but he forgot that he was breakable.  But fate had a lot in store for him...and through a series of events, he learnt a lot about human values and feelings...and he learnt to love in return.

Maybe I am just in a soppy mood right now.
But that was something in the telling of such a simply story that made it deeply moving for me.  While one wonders if Edward was actually worthy of love in the first place made me wonder about most of the porcupines I have known.

Some people crave for love.
Others have learnt to exist without it.  It is the latter group that makes me sad.
Circumstances, past events, personal experiences have made the creatures fortify themselves so tightly that they will not allow anything or anyone in.  They claim many things...like they do not need to, they don't want to,..and that emotions get in the way of the things they want.  But they forget that negative emotions....well, are emotions too.
There is a deep , gaping void...
All that have been damned up will come crashing through if one reaches breaking point.
Just like in the story, his owner, Abilene said, " Be careful...He's made of china. He'll break."
When breaking point comes,  sometimes, it is also a point of no return.

For me, I am running away from prickly porcupines at the moment.
They cause too much hurt.