of the sound of silence…

It is in the sound of silence, the absolute mute in the darkest corner of my subconscious that you drift through, piercing the veil of reason and rationality, the only outpost keeping ones’ insanity at bay.

You effortlessly float before me, and then disappear…

It was like a clairvoyance when you emerged from that mist. My hands reached out for you but alas like ancient myths of old, you faded away, back into the dark abyss.

You leave no trace behind, leaving me kneeling alone in that barren wasteland…

And now, I am caught. I look up and gaze up at the stars and moan

WHO CAN SAVE ME!

of disappointment and personal dilemmas…

When one faces a fork in the road, one would often weigh the pros and cons of the decisions, especially so when such decisions bear some weight on the value system that one has adopted.

This morning I woke up with not a terrible throb. In my mind, it was the typical cartoon-y situation of the fork in the road; a serious conundrum that I bore with regards to the actions one would undertake. In my case, it was with regards to the actions that I had undertaken the night before.

It was just an embarassing day for me, constantly burying my head in my hands, seeking solace from the cold, merciless English wind to the warmth that my body provided. Ultimately I thought to myself, it was the weakness of the skin that overpowered the strength of the mind.

Conundrums of conundrums…

Be Warned!

When I come to think of what I’ve been doing with my life, the only thing I see are the many transgressions that I have committed through sheer laziness, procrastination, irresponsibility, arrogance, smugness or plain dumb forgetfulness. Where all the bright spots may shine, they are greatly overshadowed by the wrongs in my living.

Like a beautiful girl that when looked at up close is as hideous as a toad or the angel that wants to stretch his clipped wings, nothing that I do will ever eclipse the stupidity that is me. Perhaps the only thing that I can do would be to distance myself from people, move away from others and live my life as it should be, to the fullest, without any hindrance, on your terms.

The closer you are to me, the more you know that I am intolerable. Like the white rabbit that is always late, the more I do, the more you will hate me. Therefore I suggest, stay away or else face the possibility of being hurt and in the end, losing a “friend”.

of disappointment…

Love is out of my reach;

Ever so fragile in these mortal hands,

the eternal warmth that it imbues.

 

Love is a longing of me;

Ever so curious about the touch of her hand,

the comfort that I would feel.

 

Love is but a dream to me;

Fantisizing about the joy of her persence,

caress her hair.

 

Love is that eternal race;

‘May the best men win’ they say,

and win they do.

 

Love is the good friend of envy;

Scheming and deviously planning how to…

how to take her all for me!

 

Love however, is out of reach,

the failure purely being me,

a pushover, a brat, an irritating rat…

That is and will always be

ME!

of lemons…

“If life gives you lemons, you better f*cking get out of it! You are getting screwed!” ~ James Yap

So many things have happened in the last few weeks: I have moved on from HELP Academy, finished my part-time employment at BookXcess and since then started my undergraduate degree at Taylor’s University, in partnership with the University of Reading. For some, the transition is of astronomical proportions, seeing the campus and style of learning as major changes in their lives, and this is what most students would generally talk about after they have moved on to university life. But for me, whether smooth or not, I feel the transition has been merely superficial. Other than the t-shirt that I’m currently wearing and the tag that I carry with me on campus, I would hardly have noticed I’ve stepped into the domain of the intellectuals, or at least the stepping stone towards a career, a haven most people in the world could only imagine because of stifling social and economic conditions.

So far, it has been turbulent to say the least, not in the sense of physical change or learning difficulties but rather self discovery, of the limits of my personality.

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One might say that one is defined by the people he surrounds himself with, others would contend and say that actions speak louder than words and thus his actions are his defining traits. What I say is neither of these are true, that a man is defined not through his actions or friends but his convictions and nuances. A man cannot be defined through his friends for the simple reason that he may not share their ideals, but merely filling in gaps of loneliness that he feels, surrounding himself with a variety of people, collecting them. A man cannot also be defined through his actions for the purest of actions are done within oneself, not outwardly signs of bravery or cowardice. A man who keeps to his intrinsic values, evil or good, are the true defining points of a man.

The act of moving into a new environment, leaving one comfort zone to establish oneself in a new place reveals some of the most startling things about oneself: the synergy or similarities that you share with your fellow friend or the clashing points with an acquaintance. The feeling is exhilarating at times and just plain depressing during others. This whirlwind of feelings however is refreshing, a mirror into one’s soul as people would say.

I have from eons ago, known that I am an introvert, with very thorny features in my personality. I have discovered more so in university, being comfortable with the corner and playing with thoughts in my mind, making casual observations of the goings-in in the classroom. Although I do feel comfortable and content with myself, I do have that sense of longing to be in the thick of things, to be “in” with the crowd. All the time its a struggle, if you hadn’t noticed, to blend in, to have that sense of “I’m where I’m supposed to be.” Yet, that feeling eludes me. Is it just me? Or is it the people around me? There are many other introverts like me around the globe and I would assume, safely to be blunt, to say that I’m not too far off from being “normal” because I can speak in front of a crowd and stand up for certain convictions, albeit I do have that debater’s sense of the two sides of a coin. But I do find it difficult to sometimes criticize a project, point out a friend’s wrongs and change things for the better.

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Jack of all Trades – the title my mom gave me when I was in high school. Sitting in a room full of people, that energy that I used to possess, has left me and moved on to God knows what else. I used to be involved in everything I could get my hands on and assuming leadership positions as often as I could, even running for the student council in HELP. Maybe it’s Taylor’s but I feel that energy just leave me, call it prioritization or setting reasonable goals, compared Ye Olde times, I do feel emptier.

Any remedies for all these things?

Pope Baldie

P.S: I know the post is hanging, but I don’t know how to continue without feeling like I’m just blabbing.

of my first encounter with the beast…

“Tak boleh beri discount?” the Lecturer says in his bargaining tone. He is a stout, slightly plumpish Malay gentleman, sporting a senior looking hat and umbrella he used to shelter him from the rain.

“Sorry sir but the prices are already cheap, cheaper than most bookstores.” the part-time Cashier reasons.

“Bolehlah?” the Lecturer tries once more.

“Sorry sir, but I really can’t.” the Cashier maintains.

“You tak boleh cakap Bahasa Melayu?” the Lecturer states in a hushed but very assertive voice.

“Hah?” the Cashier exclaims, unable to make out what the gentleman said.

“Tak tau cakap Bahasa Melayu?!” again the Lecturer goes, shifting his body slightly, leaning forward towards the Cashier.

“Saya tau cakap Bahasa Melayu but lebih mudah untuk saya cakap Bahasa Inggeris. I speak English at home. More comfortable.” the Cashier explains politely.

“U Balik Cina.” the Lecturer says in his hushed voice. But this time he displays a conceited look, of disgust with the slightest stroke of arrogance.

Blood rushes through the Cashier’s face, probably making him look like a ripe tomato. He drops his head in embarrassment, desperately trying to keep his cool whilst finding the exact change for the customer. It’s not easy controlling your hands that could at any moment become fists to be thrown towards the “gentleman”. But, as sure as the Sun would rise, the Cashier fades into the numbers that show on those coloured pieces of paper, maintaining his sense of integrity for himself.

—————————————–

In the story above, the Cashier would be me, and the backdrop UiTM INTEC.

Why was I there? On a company roadshow to promote and sell books to their students.

When was it? Not too long ago.

How did it feel? Terrible.

It goes without saying that it was about time I would taste that bitter and agonising taste of racism. It goes without saying that living in a multicultural country, it was about time I truly felt and experienced the distance between our cultures, through the myopic and overly conservative pair of glasses that many right wing activists or practitioners wear. It goes without saying that I needed this slap in the face, this first encounter with the beast.

—————————————–

Racial intolerance, could it be something that maybe inherent in the human psyche or something that we practice by choice? Could this disease be linked to our fight-or-flight response or could it simply be our problem with the invasion of  privacy, of an alien into my space. Either way, it is something that has not changed since the dawn of time. Hegel argued that there is no inner or constant reason, rather that things are viewed from the point of view of history, that the “glasses of time” that you wear determine how you view the world. But have the glasses of time changed in our small, myopic Malaysia, since gaining independence 50 years ago?

“Sssssh!” “Not so loud la!” would be the caution that everyone warns whenever “sensitive” issues are brought up. Is it social taboo, fear or simply a none-of-my-business attitude?

Since gaining independence 53 years ago and becoming a nation a couple of years later, these glasses of time I believe have not changed. If at all, they have become murky or tinged with the hatred and bloodlust of crimson red, poisoning and masking the values that society adopted when we become one. Although national policies could hardly change the mindset of society as a whole, they can mirror the mindset that each one of us holds, of prejudice and racism.

To be honest, I didn’t feel anything during our Independence Day or even Malaysia Day. It was just another day in the life of a part-time bookstore worker. Could I care less? I know I should have felt at least felt the slightest trace of patriotism but in my mind it was nothing but the prospect of earning extra during a public holiday. Why I wonder?

When things like that gentleman pointed out to me are said, maybe I’m just in the wrong country?

PopeBaldie

of new schools of thought…

I was reading the news when I came across this article. Interesting and eye-opening in nature. I am amazed and in awe to such a degree as to believe that I was in the presence of a God. Allow me to introduce you to Nazri-ology. Datuk Seri Nazri Aziz, the minister in the Prime Minister’s Department known for his antiques and in-your-face comments has officially established a new height in his train of thought. The article in question has been shortened for your viewing pleasure.

Nazri: Putrajaya has no funds for bright students

MON, 14 JUN 2010

KUALA LUMPUR, June 14 — Datuk Seri Nazri Aziz admitted today that the government did not have the “capacity” to finance the studies of the growing pool of bright students in the country.

“We have to tell the truth. We just cannot afford it. Just like how a parent cannot afford to send their children abroad to further their studies, the government cannot afford it.”

“There are two things here. One, it is financial capacity. Secondly, it is this: however we do it, whether we reclassify the As that the students get to A+, A and A-, the fact remains that in this year alone, the number of students who obtained 9A+ were over 1,200 “This means that the boys and girls are getting more and more clever and we cannot reduce the number of scholarships we give out by re-grading the As any further,” he explained.

As a result, said Nazri, the Cabinet last week agreed that PSD scholarships given to students applying for courses in foreign universities would only go to those pursuing postgraduate courses and not undergraduate courses. He noted that the 1,200 of the 1,500 presently offered to the students would slowly be phased out from next year onwards.

The Perdana Scholarships, he noted, would be given out to the cream of the crop and only to those accepted in Ivy League schools.

Nevertheless, Nazri said that the extra funds would be given out as scholarships to students pursuing courses in the local universities. “Ultimately, the purpose is also to retain our good students here in our local universities. “We want our universities to be first-class. We want to retain the money here, so we finance those in local universities — we want the talent here,” he said.

Nazri noted that one of the reasons behind the brain drain problem in the country was that many students pursued their studies in foreign universities. “And when they are there and they have the connection, they no longer want to return,” he said.

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On a more serious note now, this new school of thought – Nazri-ology was not meant to be defamatory but rather sarcastic. If you hadn’t noticed the many flaws in the logic of Datuk Seri Nazri Aziz, allow me to point them out to you.

1. Firstly, poor parents and inability and unaccountability on the side of the government. What is the connection between the two? The face of the matter is, the government has the duty of providing for the people. Without invoking terms like the Social Contract or Utilitarianism, the simple logic is the idea of democracy, of being representatives of the people. This job would demand such a level of assistance, what more in the face of students who deserve it but cannot afford it.
2. Secondly, the number of students. If the government does not have the capacity to sponsor all of these bright students, then there should be a screening process to only allow the crème de la crème. Is total abolishment of this policy really a solution? If the new grading system is insufficient, would the problem not lie with either a low standard of grading or a faulty screening system? As that age old saying goes, its the people who control the system, not the system itself.
3. Next, postgraduate vs. undergraduate courses. What is the justification for eliminating assistance of undergraduate courses for postgraduate courses? Does the benefit outweigh the cost? What is the reason? Is it that the number of people who pursue postgraduate courses is minimal and therefore its easier to do this rather than screen the bright minds of Malaysia? Or perhaps postgraduate courses are cheaper compared to undergraduate courses and therefore less cost would be incurred?
4. Further, the noble ideal of improving the quality of our local universities. By eliminating assistance for these courses, this would prevent people from leaving the country and keep them here. Firstly, the embarrassingly low rank of our universities would only worsen the problem because it would prevent people from pursuing their dreams and achieving their highest potential. This is discrimination, a blatant abuse of humanity. Secondly, would the ranking and quality of our universities miraculously improve when we keep our graduates in the country? Those people would be handicapped compared to the foreign degrees others would get.
5. The last idea, seemingly the most bizarre, the idea of solving the brain drain problem. Would the reduction, abolishment and isolation of these funds for only postgraduate courses serve to be an incentive for people to stay in the country? This could force Malaysians to apply more fervently to assistance from foreign parties. The GIC Scholarship, just to name one of them, offered by the government of Singapore requires that their candidates be bonded to the initiative for 6 years! Does this work better with a reduction of assistance? On another level, would the connection they make last if they had love for Malaysia? Would they migrate if they were patriots? The core of this problem lies elsewhere, rather than blame it on an excess of funds being used to develop the future of our country.

Datuk Seri, I hope that before this policy actually happens, some changes need to be made. Possibly a panel of experts must be created to analyse the problem.

Pope Baldie

of my will to live…

The Closed World by Denise Levertov

The house-snake dwells here still

under the threshold

but for months I have not seen it

nor its young, the inheritors.

.

Light and the wind enact

passion and resurrection

day in, day out

but the blinds are down over my windows,

my doors are shut.

.

When after the long drought at last

silver and darkness swept over the hills

the dry indifferent glare in my mind’s eye

wavered but burned on.

————————————————–

As a star collapses, all of the energy, heat, light and particles that it once emitted would within the tiniest fraction of a second fall in on itself, back into its origin. A once gleaming symbol in the sky, that brought life to planets would cease to exist, throwing a veil of darkness over the empty and desolate region of space. All forms of life that depend on it would wither away and die, becoming figments of reality and lost in books that no one would read.

Then, the star makes a choice, to become a light-bringer and power generator, showing off amazing displays of light, or become a giant entity of nothingness, of an unending abyss. Whatever choice it makes, it lasts forever, without any chance of reconciliation or return… This is the life of a dead star…

————————————————–

As my path unfolded before me, I made choices that would stick with me till the day I would die. Choices that were bad and good became defining symbols of my life, things that set me apart from the rest.

I live in a world of my own, conjuring up wild ambitions and fantasies that only my imagination could create. I have always wanted to live out there and in the crowd. Why? Because of my inability to express myself and the intentions that I carry. But truly, I want to stay in the darkness and stillness of a corner for I feel a sense of home there; I want to lie down and lay there on my bed forever for I have trouble waking up to the dullness and melancholy of life’s challenges, challenges that I do not meet.

Facades then become what I am. I embody all that I want to be in the masks that I wear around people. A facade of intelligence, a facade of leadership, a facade of ambition… Do I really possess these qualities? I do question myself when I make the choices that I do and come out the worst loser. Am I really intelligent if I have made the decisions that I made? Am I really a leader if I cannot lead and control my own life? Am I really ambitious if I cannot strive to achieve what I set out to? I live behind masks that cover my shortcomings, masks that become my home.

But, home as it may be, greed ever so slyly sneaks into the plush and comfort that one experiences. A greed to have more and more that is insatiable, needs to be satisfied before it consumes you whole and mercilessly. I try to match my peers that are much more superior to me. Superior in their honest approach to life and their daily fight to meet life’s needs. What am I when placed beside them? I could only cower, and hide in their shadow.

————————————————–

I need to face reality. I know that. I need to stop living in my mind. I know that. I need to face the music. I know that. I need to talk to someone. I know that. I need to draw out a plan. I know that. I need to word hard… But what I really need is to realise that I am my own person and work towards making the right choices for myself in the situation that I have put myself in.

What I can say for sure would be the goodbyes that I would bid my peers when they leave for London, America or Canada. I would be left behind in the mess that I created. Twinning? Deferred entry? Bah-humbug! These terms are now words that I would use for my university life. King’s College? UCL? LSE? Hah! Words I need to take out of my personal dictionary and frame on my wall of shame with everything else I have once loved and now lost.

I need to now live with the choices that I have made, choices that I did not want to, choices that may cost me shame and humiliation, laughter as well as discrimination. But what more can I lose? What more than my dreams and hopes that have now shattered? Nothing but only my will to live…

of terror in my own backyard…

Terror, War, Genocide, Pain, Suffering, Bloodshed…

These words have become synonymous with countries like Pakistan, Rwanda, Bosnia, Zimbabwe and etc. In these countries, life crawls at a snail’s pace, people live from the scraps they can get, it is a living hell. But how did these things start? All from the cravings of the powerful for more power or a simple understanding that was blown out of proportions and turned into a nationwide crisis. Do we want Malaysia to degenerate into that state too?!

………………………………

Sirens are blaring, the sky is alight, screams and shouts of horror and suffering fill the streets, guns fire in the background… I run through the streets, hoping for someone to save me, wake me from this nightmare. I stumble, bruise my elbows but I feel nothing, because it is a pin prick compared to the cuts and scratches I already have on my fragile body. I feel cold metal on the back of my head, my hair providing little shelter from the truth that I am about to learn. I turn around, only to realise my worst nightmare. I stare down the barrel of a .9mm pistol, held by the innocent hands of a 12 year old. I look into his eyes, those young and terrified eyes and feel a sense of disappointment at the prospect of a young child holding a gun, fighting for his life. Once a peaceful neighbourhood, peaceful country, now has dropped from grace and manifests all the elements of hell on Earth. How could this happen?

…………………………..

It was a landmark decision that made 2009 end on a high for Catholics and Christians alike around Malaysia, the word ‘Allah’ could finally be printed in The Herald, the Catholic weekly that is printed in four languages. But as religion runs deep within the veins of this country, so did the problems that justice would bring to civil society. Since midnight, I have already heard of four churches in the Klang Vallet being attacked by rioters, rumours are circling that demonstrations will be happening after the afternoon prayers. Why is all of this happening? Do we want Malaysia to degenerate into that state too?!

of walls crashing down on me…

Why do people say that things come crashing down on them when their dreams are shattered? When their ideas are stolen? When their family is killed? When disaster strikes?

BECAUSE THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT FEELS LIKE!!!

You feel the pit of your stomach collapse, the walls of your heart give way, the pillars of reason in your mind turn to ash – all at the sound of news that would turn your life around. It may be that a lover has broken up with you or a loved one has died; it may be that your business has been shut down or you have been retrenched by the company you have served since graduation; it may be that your ideas are stolen or a miscarriage of justice has befallen you. Whatever it may be, the feeling is the same – of disappointment, regret, pain and misery.

………………………..

I heard the words that no one aiming for top UK universities would ever want to hear, “Are you sure you want to continue with your choices right now?” That question, though innocent and sincere, meant the worst was going to happen. But, I was not surprised. Why? Because I am used to being disappointed and frustrated about my studies, it has as many people would say, become a part of me.

Every now and then, people would comment on my “brains”. They would say things like “Sure no problem, you’re James!” or “You’re smart!” or “Come on la, you’ll do better than me!” Little do they know of the true nature of my being. I am neither studious nor really hardworking. I study little but somehow manage to scrap through most of the time with relatively good results, maybe it’s divine intervention or mere coincidence but either way, little deserved. Every time I hear their comments on my “intelligence”, my heart would just fall out and yearn to reach out and tell them “STOP!” because what they’re saying just isn’t true. I just want to shut myself into a room when they things like that.

UK may seem like another dream that has shattered for me. The ambition of going to Oxford quickly dwindled a couple of months back when my referee talked to me about the same thing, “Are you sure?” Now, King’s, LSE, UCL, Manchester and Warwick could be another imperfect brush stroke in my already horrendous life painting. Why do I always allow myself to fall so far into the hole before realising the trouble I am in? Is it that I am blind to my surroundings, my own life? I would be one of those blind men in the cave analogy in The Republic where even if the truth is shown to me, I would not believe.

WHY?!