Midnight is here, i am here without you.
It has been this way for so long, i miss playing all the games we use to play online.
I want a new begining,without an ending in thy midnight hour
as thee thunder roars
and darkness covers all light.
BACKGROUND:
I had on a separate journey later penned these notes either at Desiderata.English or in my Midnight Voices,
maybe they resonate
with my then ***quite nue friend's heartstrings; if YES, we are then cyber soulmates;
IF not, we are still flying on similar planes
One day we will meet
and become reality soulmates:):)
***DEFINED: just a short while, can also mean a considerable time; can also mean for a LONG time!
YOUR choice -- Democracy at work/word!
********************************** for Olde Times/Dimes' s(H)akes:)
Desiderata.english for Jan 1, 2006
Ignorance is Bliss - Is It Wise?
I always tickle a few good friends when they ask about my blood pressure readings, including a good friend and counsellor who recently graduated into full-time ministry work after obtaining a Certificate in Theology. He puts many young ones to shame because at the age of 68, this friend whom I cheekily refer to as Mr Coww, is still engaged in self-improvement, a living testimony to lifelong learning in action. When I answer that I'd rather not know what my blood pressure was so that I could enjoy my food and drinks with an unburdened mind, Coww's jaw would drop for a fraction of a second, then in a mocking tone, he would admonish:"My friend, your Ignorance is Bliss policy is not wise," adding that I was completely irresponsible, and it was dereliction of duty of the highest order, to myself!
Just two weeks before Christmas, I assured Coww I had taken heed of his caution, and had never failed to take my daily "thernomin" tablet of 100mg for my hypertension, unlike during a previous period, I went without the medicine for several weeks, which was truly "tempting fate" a little too far!
But more importantly, Coww recently resumed the question of "personal faith" with me, as I had once differed with him on the question of "soul" and "spirit". He told me that I was mistaken in thinking that "soul" and "spirit" were one and the same. They are two distinctive entities, which another good friend of mine, Phyllis Wong, was able to elaborate -- elucidate's the better word -- so clearly that I finally could discern the fine distinction. Thanks to both these teachers for upgrading my education, and more so, for "personal sharing" on a "spiritual" matter which I hope adult readers will find the time to ponder over. (Welcome to visit desiderata2000.blogspot.com or yancorner.blogspot.com when you are free.)
A Beautiful Mind
During the Yuletide season, the few days break gave me an opportunity to work on a "film-script" -- my latest adventure in writing -- and one movie I re-visited which I found "meaningful" was about a Nobel laureate and his beautiful, yet troubled, mind.
"Perhaps it is good to have a beautiful mind, but an even greater gift is to discover a beautiful heart," John J. Nash Jr was quoted as saying by Russell Crowe in a movie of the same title I adopted for my post today. The film is a heart-warming, yet melancholic, one based on the true life story of the Nobel prize-winner in mathematics, with some liberties taken to enhance the messages of a legend in his own lifetime.
It tells of an understanding wife Alicia, played by lovely Jennifer Connelly, who stood by her man who lived not quite a "normal" life in that a brilliant mind sometimes went off the top and the man transformed into another personality -- a state termed schizophrenia that often sees Nash go into illusions of seeing "enemies" where there were none. Nash who is the mind capable of sifting through a maze of mathematical equations and algorithms is sometimes changed into a childlike being, removed from the reality of his environments, and yet having to cope with the demands of the real world. Not many women can stand the strains of being married to a man swinging betweeen the poles of reality and fantasy.
Nash thrived because his heart and that of Alicia had danced at a common wavelength at the most testing times of their married lives together.
And in my interactions with Coww spannng some forty years, I have had the privilege to have witnessed a brilliant mind, but more dear too me, a deep insight into a friend's heart. I have also taken certain liberties -- as poets are wont to do -- to give an inkling into a special person's innermost sanctuary. What indeed is friendship based on if not on communication of confidences and sharing of insights between two individuals? And a friendship that endures is to be treasured more than gold. My advice to my esteemed readers is you should cultivate a handful of true friends to whom you can turn in times of need. A bondship between two individuals can see them through dark storms and high seas -- that gives one a calm beyond a doctor's best medicine, I hope every reader has found at least one confidante to help face Life's many and varied challenges.
I shall relate here a conversation I had with my confidante. I once was quite lost in terms of finding the "right" ways to capitalise on my God-given talents, and so I asked dear Coww. He said wryly that I might try to the best of my ability -- but if that one ingredient was missing -- my success in writing would never achieve the peak I was capable of. Well, I countered that I had full confidence in myself, I know I had received a special gift with the exquisite use of the written word in English, only maybe the local environment was not ideal to this pursuit and fostering and flowering, hence I won't attain the "peak" he spoke of.
"No, no, my friend, it's not that. Unless you are touched by the spirit, your limits are merely at the human level ..." I feel humbled by Coww's words, so discerning, yet disconcerting at times. My writer's streak of impatience and of the questioning mind sometimes cut him off, followed by a long debate of what this "spirit" he meant, and my perspective of "it". Well, we never stop learning, and new friends coming into one's path add on to the learning process.
Coww is a born storyteller. He studied in a Chinese school for only one year when the Japanese invaded then Malaya, and for the following three years, it was a long, long holiday. After the Japanese occupation ended with the arrival of the British, Coww at 10 one day walked uninvited into a mission school asking to see the principal. The head was taken back to see a young lad asking to study in the school. The principal said every pupil had to pass an Entrance Test in English, and he expected the intruder to back down, and leave with his head down.
But ignorance can sometimes be blissful, and young Coww persevered in the "test", and to the surprise of both head and tail, he managed to "pass" with some margin to spare. Somehow life again took some unexpected turns and Coww went to study in a private Chinese school for the first three years at secondary level, before parachuting back into an English school for the final two years.
Later, as a real life teacher now sitting in front of the class, he could quote Shakespeare better than many mates who had undergone 12 years of schooling in English while he only had five! So we share two common loves -- passion for Shakespeare and getting high on poems. He has an edge because he could recite poems from Chinese literature besides colonialist British while I can only from the latter. But age catches up with humans soon enough; when Coww sometimes complained of "fainting spells", I was apprehensive, and at such moments I would recall one of my favourite poets, Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), on:
Hope Is the Thing with Feathers
That perches in the soul.
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all.
So my wish at year's close is for all my readers to have good health above everything else, so we can continue to savour the simple things in life. Indeed, it's double happiness to find a beautiful mind, and a peaceful heart, and I hope to expand the number in the company of such faithful friends. Coww and Phyllis truly help this writer understand himself better, especially to distinguish between the soul and the spirit, and to constantly keep the faith, when sometimes things look overwhemingly bleak. Let's work together with a few friends so that the heart's song will go on for ever, and I'll continue to try to patiently listen, and discern the gems of friendship within. Gifts from one heart to another.
Desiderata.English will take a break for some time but I hope to write an "occasional" column again, God-willing. Meanwhile, I'd like to share another Max Ehrmann's poem, Wanderers, before I say adieu.
A clear, cool night. I have been reading,
but the thoughts of man do not solace me.
I raised the curtain and looked at the moon,
clear and silvery; and I brushed
some of the unrest out of my mind.
I know all the theories of the moon.
There have been times when the symbols
of science have robbed me of some of its
mystery and charm.
But no one can explain the moon any
more than a grasshopper can explain me.
In youth, the moon promised too much.
But now I understand better; that was not
the moon's fault.
Also the moon and I have this in common:
we both are wanderers across the night.
Wandering is an enjoyable escapade that one can afford, best done in the steal of the night! because you don't have to "disturb" another "soul". It's about the only adventure a "muddled"/ "muddied" mind can embark on anytime to clear the mind. You wander back to childhood, that maiden kiss, wedded bliss, adult sorrows, life's myriad lessons, and
still
one wonders
what's this life all about?
At year's end, I'd like to share one Prayer to My Maker:
"Give me and all my dear friends time to continue to
wander the landscape of the earth, moon and the stars.
More importantly give us time
To wander among the alleyways of the lost
the busy streets of passersby
and the highways of business people
to be able to find a few more
fRiends
among
fellow travellers,
falling in love
mayhaps
with some wayward
wondering
souls?"
In the coming year, in my solitude
I will continue to wander into
the depths of the night
And never hold back on the promise
Of finding that common beating
of life's symphony
in another human heart
And I beget a new friend.
Before I close, I would like to thank all my good friends, especially Mr Coww and Phyllis, who help me see with the heart, as expressed in this quote which I treasure:
"And now here's my secret, a very simple secret. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye." *** from The Little Prince
Wishing all my esteemed readers "A Happy and Progressive New Year".
MAY YOU WIN SOME NEW FRIENDS COME 2006.
SIDEBAR STORY (retold often it may bore Thee:(...my 1,000 APs, knot of the RM20k mind:)
A productive hobby Desiderata started in March 2005 is blogging, which is an Internet-based journal-writing, with mine dedicated to Civil Society issues and the promotion of the English language. I also won some new friends at blogsworld, and was privileged to meet up recently with four young and articulate fellow bloggers -- John Lee, Imran Ahmad, Koi Kye Lee and Sabrina Tan, the last two whose articles had been featured in this column previously.
Imran Ahmad, an IT graduate, recalled the event, and titled his story -- based on just seven days old gathering -- Anniversary
It’s almost a week. How time flies. Life was never the same since last Friday night, when I had a truly wonderful experience. I promised someone I would write a soppy story to commemorate the occasion and immortalise it within the bowels of my memory forever. So here it is, I am writing this at 2.30 am and my mind is still able to spew stuff at its normal rate.
So what’s the experience I’m referring to that I hear you asking? Well it’s the joy of meeting new people and building a ship which we christened as Friendship. The only ship that doesn’t sink is friendship. I am beginning to agree to that adage. And my experience last week serves to strengthen my belief in it. And I hope that my new found friendship, although it didn’t take 5 years long to build like the Titanic, will not sink within 3 hours. I know I will do my level best to nurture and preserve my new found circle of friends.
Everywhere I go, I hear people complaining about their friends, and how the institution that is friendship is slowly eroding and losing its charm and importance in their daily lives. But from what I’ve been experiencing for almost a year now, I am glad to know that good people still exist out there, albeit existing in the cyberworld. But behind every pseudonym lies a living and breathing person, and someone who really cares.
Some might say that I’m being delusional about the whole thing, but I beg to differ. In the cyberworld, you can really measure a person through his writing. You can tell people's character by what they write. You can know if the person is being sincere in thoughts and opinions. How many of us can say that about another friend in real life?
In real life, there’s all the false pretense, the dressing to impress, and not forgetting the fake accents. People pretending to be someone else, rather than being themselves. In cyberspace, what you see is what you get.
To all the cynical people out there, I only have this to say to all of you: You may laugh at me for being different, but I’m laughing back at you. And I pity all of you for not having such wonderful friends that I have. And to have such handsome and beautiful friends, this is one heck of a lucky ugly person. So life does have its rewards.
So to my new friends, here’s wishing you success in everything that you may undertake, and here’s hoping that the people that matter most to all of you will appreciate you as much as I do. Also many thanks for crossing my path and showing me that nice people are still in existence. Thanks for being my source of guidance and advice, and for keeping me company on the one too many sleepless nights I have.
desiderata.english for Sunday, December 18, 2005
It's the Season to be Jolly
During this festive season when school children are still on holiday, many parents would be putting on their thinking caps on what to buy as presents for their loved ones. A handphone costing at least RM200 for the 15-year-old who just scored 7As for the SPR examination? A perfumery set for a daughter now blooming as a teenager about to enter college or university?
A camcorder for the young man proceeding to matriculation studies -- going to a co-ed school for the first time after attending a Brother's School up till Secondary 5. Does a camcorder make him "cool' among his "gang" many of whom may be now tasting the fun of dating -- first in a group, then graduating to solo dating? These modern times add a heavy burden to Dad and Mum, who besides having to earn bread and butter working 9to5, five days a week, have to cope with teenagers with their body hormones raging for adventure.
Unlike in the 1970s and 80s, children would be happy just going for a movie at the weekend, followed maybe by bonus bowl of mee and teh tarik at the roadside mamak stall. Nowadays, one reads in the news of school students being nabbed at night clubs on suspicion of smoking drugs even on a weekday. One asks: what sort of discipline do their parents exercise?
Now there are temptations of the malls with the expensive San Francisco Coffee House where a cuppa costs RM10; worse yet, some parents have to worry about late night outings at the Crazy Horse dance hall or Karaoke lounge where a person can easily part with RM100 in one night. And the menace of booze, and God forbid, drugs … and the police raids.
It's so tragic to read about the case of a 16-year-old schoolboy in Petaling Jaya earlier this week who was found "electrocuted" next to his computer in an apparent suicide. His distraught father claimed the boy had been spending an obsessively long time playing computer games and the Internet.
But my concern is that why some parents did not exercise some control and discipline over their children's play and study times Seven hours a day playing computer games? My question is: How can the situation degenerate to this level?
Parents need to be strict in laying down some ground rules which their children must respect -- observing curfew hours, times for games and outings with friends, and time for school work and tuition, properly guided. All too often, I have seen some parents "off loading" such responsibility to the teachers, expecting them to be even supervising their charges after school-hours. Believe me, it's true, I have personally involved in some "delinquent" cases referred to me for advice. (My sister is also a secondary school teacher in charge of discipline, and explains why Boston Public remains one of our favourite TV programmes.)
Even the smartest of school going kids should not spend more than two hours of a 12-hour day in leisurely activities during weekdays, perhaps with some latitude over the weekend. In this case, the parents realise it too late the price of "over indulgence" of the child, who was reportedly upset that his request for an upgrade of his computer was not entertained. And rightly, the victim's schoolmates who paid respects at the funeral did not accept the "willed" computer as it had robbed their friend of hi life.
But I do hope adults would ponder buying expensive gifts for their children who have yet to earn their first ringgit at work. The money would be better placed as investment for the future -- the child's entrance to tertiary institution or picking up some useful skills at a college teaching modern day living skills that are in demand in the marketplace or equipping the more adventurous youth in entrepreneurship -- venturing out as a self-employed, doing a business.
So for a change, Desiderata suggests giving your child a Book for this Christmas? On my horizon is The Little Prince, written by Saint-Exupery, Antoine De, enhanced also by the author's watercolor illustrations. Priced at about RM20, the hardcover edition would definitely be an ideal gift for a 10 to 15-year-old child. Compare with a handphone prematurely given, with good intentions no doubt, but yet may spoil the kid through misuse or even abuse. One buddy of mine complained that his son in secondary four ran up phone charges of RM200 in the first month of receiving the RM800 "toy" (with photo-capture function)! I don't blame the boy as much as the father -- this well-meaning friend is a spendthrift on himself but indulges his children too much! And the kids hardly spend time reading books, so it's not surprising their communication skills are lacking.
The Little Prince tells of the friendship between the prince from another planet and a pilot whose plane had crashed at a desolate place. He speaks of the time he spent with the fox, learning the art of "taming" and rites, which cements the relationships between the participants. The pilot learns to love the little prince, as the latter loves the rose. Nearing the end, the pilot has repaired his plane, and the parting of friends is impending. Yet the "farewell" is only physical, for the"taming" process has created a bond that endures beyond time and space. In our modern life friendships, how many can last forever and a day?
Another lesson taught us by the prince is that often, adults lose the curiosity of childhood, and their lives are bound by the present, and they could only see with their eyes up to a physical point. We lose ourselves in the race for wealth, power and other things which to many a child, are ""meaningless". Some adults even wear blinkers, like the horses do at the weekend races. One track. One direction, to try to win the physical race, no time for the nuggets of nature's beauty and mysteries along the journey of life.
For immdiate gratification, another suggestion for a Christmas treat is see a movie at the cineplex. Peter Jackson had been entertaining the past three Christmases with his Lord of The Rings trilogy, and he returns now with another thrilling blockbuster, a remake of King Kong, a three-hour fantasy adventure.
Or for a wholesome (especially those of the Christian faith) story which will never disappoint is from C.S. Lewis' Narnian tales - The Lion, theWitch and the Wardrobe. But personally, I'd go for "The Constant Gardener", from another favourite author of mine, John le Carre (remember the Honourable Schoolboy?), but more for the actress, Nicole Kidman (ERRATA: one of mGf pointed out it was another actress!:(. Now you know the teacher's tastes!
For the longer term enjoyment, back to the bookworms, some other selections. For the primary school children, there's always Enid Blyton's Famous Five and Secret Seven series, the fables from Han Christian Andersen (The Emperor's New Clothes, just one popular example) and Grimm Brothers, with too many tales to mention.
Or for those who love to solve mysteries, the detective novels of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie will never go wrong as gifts. Join the pipe-smoking Sherlock Holmes as he traversed the dark alleys of London solving murders most foul, as he explains to his hard-working -- but none too sharp witted -- assistant Dr Watson, the whats and whys of events and their logical conclusions.
If you enjoy some fright that surpasses the horror of the kind you encountered watching movies like The Exorcist and Elm's Street, read "The Hound of the Baskervilles". The sort of terror Sir Arthur doles out brings the readers to hear the howling of the invisible creature, and feel the taut tension in the air of the English moorlands. But a fair warning: you might not dare venture alone into the kitchen downstairs for that orange drink as your throat dries up; maybe you might even tiptoe out of your room to switch on all the lights in the living room while being transported on a murder solving journey,. After reaching the destination, you won't be so attracted to Blackie the neighbourhood dog, as you used to hug before!
Meanwhile, Hercule Poirot's murder usually involves a fair number of potential "killers". He entertains the readers with his explanations how he would eliminate the usual suspects, and along the train journey like "The Murder On the Orient Express", the reader would be misled by many red herrings and feel he is indeed taken "for a ride". Then the revelation points often to the least-suspected person in the story as the "murderer" -- it comes in the closing pages of course, so don't read from right to left as one would do with Chinese literature.
Other authors I recommend to cater for varying tastes include the Bronte sisters - Emily, Charlotte and Jane - Daphne du Maurier, (My Cousin Rachel), Mark Twain (Adventures of Tom Sawyer), Alexander Dumas (The Three Musketeers) and H.G. Wells (The War of the Worlds). Happy reading!
Sidebar story:
Seeing with the Heart...
(Where art thou, my heART?:)
Just a recollection that Desiderata is a poem on the quest of seeking happiness in life. In the 1960s it became the subject of a hoax when it was claimed that it had actually been discovered in a Baltimore church in 1692. I had once bought a scroll depicting this as wrongly attributed, doing much injustice to my iconic model Max Ehrmann (who wrote it in 1927) to whom this writer owes eternal gratitude for an inspiration to exquisite writing, and a guide to daily living.
Desiderata is Latin for "those things most needed or to be desired".
As the season of merriment draws nigh, how many of us think of:
At Christmas I no more desire a rose
Than wish a snow in May’s new-fangled mirth;
But like of each thing that in season grows.
A man in all the world’s new fashion planted,
That hath a mint of phrases in his brain.
A high hope for a low heaven.
Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
As Desiderata knows it, all humans long for happpiness, and life is an endless journey in search of that indefinable, yet precious as a pearl, goal. An elusive dream, most times. But the quest goes on, as long as there is a breath left in the human breast.
But what if Love should take Leave?
as humankind are wont to --
failing each other --
in all spheres of endeavour
And Love is an Endeavour mostly of the Heart
Is it not?
So life is not all spring; even the feet,
especially tiny ones, get tired and need to rest.
Enter the autumn of our lives -- we grow older,
the hair grey and white
but even as the leaves fall, young buds come to life
the eternal cycle of life is repeated
as long as we breathe,
hope lingers
"Hope" to Desiderata is the thin' that beats one octave lower
than screaming passion
Of young lovers caught in ecstasy
the madness of all-consuming sex and lust
but when the Game is o'er, it's mere memories
of stored longings
of wanting
more
of the same
But for one with terminal cancer,
the hope for a medical breakthrough
surpasses the raging fires of passion
One longs for the desiderata
of wellness
Emily Dickinson taught us well
'Hope' is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all
And sweetest in the Gale is heard
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm
I've heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest Sea
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb of Me.
Remember what was a warm lesson taught us in The Little Prince in which the fox tells the little prince: “One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes…It’s the time you spent on your rose that’s so important”.
Yes, humankind's vision seldom extends beyond the physical. What is the first feature that attracts thee to a girl? Her face, her physical features that make up her outward appearance, is it not?
Do we learn of her "inner character" which may yet prove more beautiful than that enchanting smile upon an enchanting face enhanced by an enchanting body?
One of my good friends, Phyllis Wong, has this to share:
Fanny J. Crosby wrote over 8,000 gospel songs in her life. Inspiring words in the hymns like "Blessed Assurance" "All the way the Savior leads me" are all from a person who "sees" with her heart.
Fanny was blind from the age of 6 weeks. She used her heart to see God's creation and wrote such beautiful words. Her life was filled with praise, thanksgiving and trust in God!
She wrote this poem when she was 8:
Oh, what a happy child I am
Although I can not see
I am resolved that in this world
Contended I will be
How many blessings I enjoy
That other people don't
To weep and sigh
Because I'm blind
I cannot and I won't.
Man is so predictable, we seldom see with our heart. A common weakness. Tomorrow I must blindfold myself and walk around like a blind man. Play blind man's puff again, like when I was six years old. Ah, then I may gain sight again, in my heart...I hope we'll all:
Make this Christmas the "seeing" season of your life
Life is contentment sought, even half gained
Is a life well lived, even if a love is lost
It's almost wholly given, it's a sigh then: victory almost.
Still, had we not run that race
it'd have been mere regrets
we're still stuck at the
starting line.
I wish all the esteemed readers of the Borneo Post
"A Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year".
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