Dear Diary

"What is it about people and them keeping diaries?" quizzed my friend to a table full of guys who were generally disinterested in the question as they cook up a few non-committal speculations. After everyone chipped in their two cents worth of the subject, their heads turned towards me as they expect me to contribute to the discussion before we can proceed to another topic. Instead, I lowered my head and concentrated on my food; knowing full well that I'm the only one out of the group of four who actually does keep a diary of sorts and throwing in my chips will result in a further interrogation of why I jot down my thoughts.

But it is a good question: why do we need to collect our innermost thoughts? Do we ever write bearing in mind that it will get read by someone other than oneself? While I am not in a position to say for the others who do keep a diary or jot their thoughts down, I have no doubt that there are quite a few out there who will share the same reasons as me.

For one, the impetus to jot down my thoughts definitely stems from the innate need to express oneself in the most uninhibited way. While I value individualism as well as personal space, I do believe that we are not created to be in total isolation. That perfectly explains why since time immemorial, Man has a universal tradition of handing down stories and values to the next generation through cave paintings and the aural tradition. While indulging in this rather private affair does not share the same vein as cave painting, I guess it is an interaction with my future self.

In this interaction with my future self, I guess this self-expression is also cathartic as I spell out my feelings in some form of a rational capacity. It does preserve my sanity and calms me down at times. The process of documenting my thoughts imposes everything around me to slow down and time does not exist as I take whatever I need to write all my thoughts out. Thus, calming me down as I slip into more of a meditative mood. On the other extreme, in the event of experiencing rage, writing gives a sense of clarity to my anger. While this clarity does not dispel the brunt of my anger or its negative energy, it seems to convert it into something more productive or beneficial to me. Odd as it sounds, but there are times when I'm able to write and compose fluently in a fit of anger or perhaps create a rough sketch of something that I will undertake and develop later on. Hence, keeping this online diary seems to help me tap my emotions in a most powerful way.

At the end of the day, despite how many or how good our friends are, there are certain lines that have to be drawn. As much as we like to, we do not tell everything to even the closest of our friends for various reasons. Therefore, the diary, or in my case, the random scraps of paper that I write my thoughts on from time to time is our confidante. In this respect, it does not serve to benefit me fully. Re-reading what I wrote only has a limited effect of easing the burden inside what it comes to the need to really tell someone and having that person's opinion. This proves that inter-human relationship is still important in our isolated world of Skype, Twitter and MSN where real human interaction does not truly exist. I do wish that there is someone in which I can confide in them about EVERYTHING and they will understand despite having their own judgements and reservations. Perhaps I'm asking too much... perhaps we all just need to give a little love to make it happen.

Old Works

I often wonder why I have stopped writing poems. It is as if the poetic muse have just left me totally. Anyway, I was re-looking at my old poems and I really wonder how I managed to write then.. Here are some of my favs...

Yearnings

(I)

At dawn's breath
I went to the meadows;
accompanied by the gay of yester-shadows.
Each step forward,
less of a gay the shadows be,
Each step forward,
how long before I have thee?


(II)

Standing by the window
on a moonless night,
A comforting breeze blows,
as I think of you.
Silence wreaks throught the air;
only to be destroyed by the crickets.
So do my thoughts;
as I think of you.


(III)

A dreary morn I wake;
to find the sun sagging as
he reflects the frost-bitten pavement of winter's dusk.
I dragged my feet on the deserted street;
for no rhytmic beat was present;
upon the streets of pristine snow.

No song did the lark sing,
for no joy did winter bring.

I yearn for the oncoming summer;
whose smiles is warm like yours
and whose joy radiates into celestial realms.

So come quickly, my lovely summer.
For one's embrace warms the yearning heart.

Bark Scratching

In the months of the monsoonal rains,
I hear the cacophony created by these little beings pelting against my window sill.
A petit being I was, as I peered out of my doorway with aching pains,
Making sure the house is still,
I trod along the moisten path and lay bare upon the moist-smitten trees.


Scratching on the dark, rocky barks,
I lay myself in fervent stark,
Till I was weary,
I sat upon the dreary
Roots of that old tree
Thinking that I’ll be free
And wondering will anyone see
My scratching on that old, dark tree.

Well.. tell me what you think!

Days of Wellness

The motto of the Singapore Sun Festival, which ended recently on 12 October, is the art of living well. I'm glad that I was able be part of it quite a fair bit as I did enjoy myself in engaging in literature workshops by local playwright, Alfian Sa'at, and Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka. Additionally, the concert by the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra with James Galway as a guest performer was a treat to the ears as well as a good bonding experience with my flute teacher.

As the festival comes to an end, the one thing resonates the loudest with me is the aim of the festival itself. It is a 10-day event that caters to the celebration of life and wellness in terms of intellectual, spiritual as well as the physical. This is done in the form of concerts, workshops and gourmet events. After enjoying the festival, how does one continue to live well?

Taking cue from the festival itself, I guess one should enrich oneself intellectually, physically and spiritually and really take stock of our lives. Personally, I find taking stock of my life a very important step and I struggle with it. This is because while I'm clear that my life is often headed in the wrong direction, I often continue rushing headlong in that direction and I look back at it with disgust. Perhaps, we need a clean break from everything in order to truly look at ourselves in the mirror.

This is why I long for a long break that involves reading, writing, reflection and exercise. If I could just go away to somewhere distant, even if it just means Pulau Ubin rather than the Caribbean, and do all these... perhaps I will be enriched and be able to start life again with a clearer perspective. A typical day of my retreat will probably start like this...

1. Wake up and freshen up
2. Read the Bible
3. Read the news (possibly Time magazine rather than the local newspaper)
4. Go for a 30 min run
5. Bathe and eat (not at the same time of course)
6. Take a one hour nap
7. Read anything of my choice for 30 mins and make notes if necessary
8. Go out and jot down whatever comes to mind
9. Eat
10. Play the flute
11. Repeat no. 7
12. Wind down with some music
13. Eat
14. Review what I have written and perhaps write something about whatever that struck me
15. Repeat. 7
16. Laze around and falling alseep.

Anyone wanna join me???

Patch Adams

Recently, I was fortunate enough to revisit one of my favourite films, Patch Adams, on television. It is a film which depicts a medical student, Hunter 'Patch' Adams, who possesses the unconventional wisdom to challenge the long-held beliefs of medical care. In his struggles to convince everyone that medical care is not merely a profession but it is also having a relationship with the patients, he experienced many trials and tribulations as he questions about life, love and the ultimate fear of death. He later went on to establish Gesundheit! Institute (www.patchadams.org) that aims to put care, concern and laughter at the heart of healthcare service.

The viewing of this film came at a opportune moment as I felt uplifted from my blues as a result of the strain of the lack of sleep and the weariness of duty that national service imposes on you. I began to ponder on the questions that the films poses on top of its main message. These mind-boggling questions are: What makes you happy?, What are you passionate about?, Is death an end to everything?

What makes you happy?

This is definitely one of the most difficult question of all for the answer often changes with time. As for now, what makes me happiest is being with people I love. While it seems so simple, how many of us can actually do that in this complex day and age?

We are bogged down by so many, and rather unnecessary, responsibilities as we become breathless in trying to juggle so many things; a feat so complex that even the artistes from Cirque Du Soleil would give a standing ovation. In our midst of juggling the hats that we have to put on, how many times do we find ourselves making promises to others to keep in contact or to meet up but never ever bringing it to fruition? How many times do we promise our parents that we will be back for dinner but end up returning home so late that the cold food is eventually thrown away?

Personally, I have never appreciate my friendships and varying relationships with others as much as I have now. I have come to realise that being around the people that I love is the only real and important thing in my life for I don't have to put on any masks or prove to them anything for they know who I am. It seems that having a relationship of any kind is the most self-affirming thing for it proves that one exists because a relationship transcends time, death and space - once formed, it exists eternally even after one dies. This is unlike all other achievements that will be relegated to the archives or be forgotten as time passes and the memory fades.

What are you passionate about?

This is definitely one of the easiest questions ever asked. I am passionate about the Arts though it is unfortunate to say that I am not competent or do not have a fertile understanding in some aspects of it. The Arts (especially in the aspects of theatre, literature and dance) appeals to me because it has this quality to translate the depths and varied qualities of the human experience - something that is universal in all cultures. Such a quality goes beyond any kind of barrier as anyone at any age can relate to.

It is also a very powerful tool to question and espouse a certain condition of our lives. While it is certainly ambitious to state that Art will result in a radical revolution, one cannot deny that Art does leave the viewer/listener/audience a little change and perhaps it could be a platform that compels one to think and question and even improve what is already there. Such a powerful force certainly cannot be explained by any scientific theory.

Is death an end to everything?

No. Death cannot end memories or erode our love for someone in any capacity. As such, death can only put an end to something in the physical capacity.

Army Daze - How Boys Will Not Become Men

I thought it is time for my gentle readers to re-visit a post I wrote a while ago...

The army advertising machine is one of the most well-oiled and efficient system ever devised by man. The slogan , "Where boys become men", has become a mantra on the lips of millions that any advertising company would be over the moon should their slogans for their clients attain such a cult following. Yet, many should understand that a slogan is a mere advertising tool to appeal to the consumers and ensure that they remember a particular product due to its catchy phrase. In other words, it may not necessarily represent the truth and that applies for the army too - it does not make one become a man.

However, a 'man', like any other word, is a subjective concept and it benefits everyone should we stick to a particular definition. Being a man, represents an attainment of maturity, independence, rationality, humanity and morality; one that is able to provide for himself and others materially and emotionally. By that definition, the only semblance of being a man that the army could claim credit for would be bulking up the poor boys who have their lives coming into a screeching halt for two years. The physicality achieved, if the poor boy has any body mass to bulk up with, may offer his girlfriend either a sense of security or a fantasy come true as she is euphoric that she finally has a boyfriend that is as bulky as Hugh Jackman in Australia. Thoughts of her boyfriend washing himself like Jackman in that movie meant that the boy could finally "provide" his for his girlfriend emotionally - albeit in an erotic way.

At this point, most proponents of the slogan would demand that I do not ignore how serving national service is a rite of passage where one acquire survivor skills akin to the tribal initiation rites into adulthood or that it teaches values such as selflessness, cooperation and discipline. In response to that, I will thus address such naivety in two parts; the male initiation rites and the teaching of values.

With regards to the "rite of passage" argument, the person's naivety is revealed in the fact that he or she does not comprehend the significance of the tribal initiation rites but is only mystified by the whole affair. The tribal initiation rites is a spiritual, mental and physical training for the boys in order to equip them with necessary skills to survive and mature. The skill of hunting, outdoor survivor and resourcefulness is much needed in their community in the jungles to survive and in terms of providing for the whole tribe. Therefore, apart from the spiritual aspect which can be gruesome and not relevant in this discussion, these rites truly make boys become men in the sense that they are equip with necessary skills to actually survive. In relation to our urban landscape, if the army really sets out to transform boys to become men, the basic military training will therefore consists of cooking classes, teaching the boys how to clean, iron and sew and personal grooming courses in terms of appearance as well as etiquette. In addition, I believe that we are all equipped with an instinctive will to survive and that should a boy be left alone all by himself in the house where he has to cook, clean and wash his own clothes, I have no doubts that he will learn to acquire those skills and mature naturally as with millions of students who have studied abroad have done.

Furthermore, I can never subscribe to the idea of "breaking the boy to make a man" for it is outright barbarism. Hurling unnecessary insults and abuses during training only makes a boy into a baby where the recruit will learn that the only form of expression is through the use of expletives; relinquishing their ability to articulate their thoughts in a rational fashion. It will reduce communication into an orgy of distasteful utterances like a baby gone wrong. It never brings the willpower out of anyone. For willpower implies the perseverance out of one's own accord to endure whatever adversity one faces. Therefore, forceful imposition undermines this unique quality of the human spirit. This ideology therefore can never be a part of the training as a "rite of passage".

As for how the army teaches one good values, I am utterly disappointed at the parents who are hoping that the military would do their job. Also, I am disappointed at the little faith people have in the human spirit that we are capable of instinctive goodness. Why do one need to depend on the army to be taught such values? What about moral education in religious institutions and schools? Perhaps, the Ministry of Education needs to meet with the advertisers for the army to discuss on how to improve their brand name which results in people putting more faith in Singapore's education.

Aside from that, I would like to scrutinise the myth that military instills discipline. The concept of discipline is certainly severely misunderstood. The illusion of the soldiers marching in unison with precision does not necessarily mean that these soldiers have discipline. Discipline, like all other values, must be exhibited in a spirit of one's own willingness and not be coerced or forced into doing something out of the fear of punishment. True discipline is exhibited when the recruit actually wants to take on a strict regime in the earnest wish of becoming a highly trained soldier that has the ability to protect his country and fellow comrades in a time of war. Therefore, should the soldiers not have this self-willingness and do it any other way, one cannot say that the army has instilled a sense of discipline in them. Otherwise, dogs, slaves and prisoners are masters of discipline by that flawed equation.

As such, the army cannot claim any credit of making boys into men. Like all advertising gimmicks, we must see the product for what it really is and not be lulled into naivety by a catachy phrase - national service is merely a feeble solution to a problem of national security (a topic that must be left for another discussion as it is not directly relevant to this post). Like the recruits in Michael Chiang's hit movie, 'Army Daze', the military advertising machine has cast a fog and puts us in a daze.