I didn't actually claimed to know everything about my relatives, especially my family's history. But one in particular caught my interest and made me listen in awe. It was only just recently that my family were just sitting around when my dad started to talk about my late granduncle.
"Did you know that your grandmother - which is my mother - has a brother? They say he was a really handome young man then. He died at a really young age, somewhere in his twenties and do you know why?
When the Japanese came to our country, he joined the rebellions group. I'm sure you read your history, right? Anyways, they caught him. He managed to get away the first time; he went to a peace talk in Batu Caves and barely escaped into the Dark Caves when it turned out to be a trap set by the Japanese.
The second time he wasn't so lucky. They caught him, tortured him and killed him. They purposely didn't bury him, instead left it in the open so if one of his comrades came to get his body they could catch them.
His comrades have to wait for a few days and when midnight arrived and the guards are away, they steal his body and buried him on a mountain where to this day your brother and I climbed to pay our respects.
Every family has it's own history, it is only your choice whether you choose to believe them or not. I'm still having my doubts as to how my grandfather could have cycled all the way from SzeChuan, China all the way to Malaysia...
Sunday, December 13, 2009
A Story to Live By
I saw this at a small temple I sometimes go to and it's very touching, to me anyways. What do you think?
There was a blind girl who hated herself because she was blind. She hated everyone except her loving boyfriend. He was always there for her. She told her boyfriend, "If only I could see the world, I would marry you."
One day, someone donated a pair of eyes to her. When the bandages came off, she was able to see everything, including her boyfriend.
He asked her, "Now that you can see the world, would you marry me?" The girl looked at her boyfriend and saw that he was blind. The sight of his closed eyelids shocked her. She hadn't expected that. The thought of looking at them the rest of her life led her to refuse to marry him.
Her boyfriend left in tears and days later wrote a note to her saying, "Take good care of your eyes, my dear, for before they were yours, they were mine."
I asked my dad what he think of the story and do you know what he said to me? "You see, this guy didn't think out of the box and approached it in a logical manner. Instead of donating both his eyes, he should have just donated one! That way they both could see each other through one eye and live happily ever after!"
Thanks for taking the touching moment out of the story, dad.
There was a blind girl who hated herself because she was blind. She hated everyone except her loving boyfriend. He was always there for her. She told her boyfriend, "If only I could see the world, I would marry you."
One day, someone donated a pair of eyes to her. When the bandages came off, she was able to see everything, including her boyfriend.
He asked her, "Now that you can see the world, would you marry me?" The girl looked at her boyfriend and saw that he was blind. The sight of his closed eyelids shocked her. She hadn't expected that. The thought of looking at them the rest of her life led her to refuse to marry him.
Her boyfriend left in tears and days later wrote a note to her saying, "Take good care of your eyes, my dear, for before they were yours, they were mine."
I asked my dad what he think of the story and do you know what he said to me? "You see, this guy didn't think out of the box and approached it in a logical manner. Instead of donating both his eyes, he should have just donated one! That way they both could see each other through one eye and live happily ever after!"
Thanks for taking the touching moment out of the story, dad.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
For lack of anything to write...
The clock ticked slowly in the background, the sound seemingly grew louder and louder until its beginning to drive me crazy. I chewed on the nub of my pencil as I searched my mind for something, anything, to get me going.
I poised my pencil above a blank piece of paper placed in front of me, like a fencer at the ready. This is it, I tell myself, I'm one step closer to my dream, to become an aspiring author of children and adults alike. My book will bring a spark of light to minds everywhere in this dull, mundane life. I'll take the world by storm!
'But for that day to come, you have to start writing.' my consciousness pointed out. I reluctantly pulled myself out of my wonderful daydream and looked down at that accursed piece of paper. Out of frustration, I crumpled it up and throw it blindly behind me, probably joining its many kin on the floor.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. Drink, I need a drink. I automatically reached for the cup resting beside me and put it to my lips. I grimaced. Ugh, cold coffee. With a groan, I stood up and trudged towards my kitchen.
As I leaned against the island counter, with a can of cold beer in hand, my eyes watched absent-mindedly at employees running back and forth in the office complex opposite my apartment. Soon, the can was nearly empty when I sighed, feeling defeated. It's time to face the music. There's no point denying it. The worst case scenario that happens to writers everywhere is now happening to me.
I...have writer's block.
I poised my pencil above a blank piece of paper placed in front of me, like a fencer at the ready. This is it, I tell myself, I'm one step closer to my dream, to become an aspiring author of children and adults alike. My book will bring a spark of light to minds everywhere in this dull, mundane life. I'll take the world by storm!
'But for that day to come, you have to start writing.' my consciousness pointed out. I reluctantly pulled myself out of my wonderful daydream and looked down at that accursed piece of paper. Out of frustration, I crumpled it up and throw it blindly behind me, probably joining its many kin on the floor.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. Drink, I need a drink. I automatically reached for the cup resting beside me and put it to my lips. I grimaced. Ugh, cold coffee. With a groan, I stood up and trudged towards my kitchen.
As I leaned against the island counter, with a can of cold beer in hand, my eyes watched absent-mindedly at employees running back and forth in the office complex opposite my apartment. Soon, the can was nearly empty when I sighed, feeling defeated. It's time to face the music. There's no point denying it. The worst case scenario that happens to writers everywhere is now happening to me.
I...have writer's block.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Notice
Hey, I'm not going to continue my entry titled 'Memories of an NS girl'. Something is wrong with it so I have to delete. Sorry!
Mel
Mel
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