A collection of personal ramblings and early experiments with writing which incidentally set this blogger off on an interesting journey of self-discovery, among other things.
With songs, I can ALWAYS find one that nearly (or sometimes perfectly) expresses the type of emotion I am going through at any given moment in time. It happens so that some singer/song writer was thinking the same thing in one of his/her songs. Yes, it makes life easy for those who can't figure out their own emotions and helps some express their emotions with an artistic twist.
Been having alot of things to blog about so during the day, I noted them on a post it, and in the evening, I forgot about it and left it inside a book inside the Jeep. Way to go, Shuri! Now, those things will have to wait.
The song below has some ridiculous, immature lyrics. But having said that, I really do like the tune of this song!
I'd catch a grenade for ya (yeah, yeah) - I think he has watched too many movies, in any case, I don't think she expects him to catch a grenade for her. And not like it would save anyone's life if both were roughly standing on the same spot.
Throw my hand on a blade for ya (yeah, yeah) - looks like this guy wants the girl to look after him when he is handicapped and unable to use his hands, Ooo-Kayy
I'd jump in front of a train for ya (yeah, yeah) - BUT WHY?? Maybe, if you were trying to save a cow or an elephant on the rail track, it can be considered noble.
You know I'd do anything for ya (yeah, yeah) - knock yourself some common sense, perhaps??
Oh, oh, I would go through all of this pain,
Take a bullet straight through my brain! - So he wants to leave her with an emotional and social scar, after he makes a dramatic exit?
Yes, I would die for ya, baby,
But you won't do the same. (I say this girl is smarter than the guy)
Disclaimer: No disrespect is intended to the singer. I think he has a alot of singing talent and potential.
It is funny how random conversations can thaw glaciers of ancient memories. This blog is about a special teacher of mine.
She was my Grade 4 (I was aged 9) class teacher. From the first day I met her, on my first day of school, she wore white. I learnt later that she did this after one of her parents had passed away. In addition to being our class teacher, she was also our Mathematics, Comprehension and Reading teacher. She was strict too. I remember on the very first day of school, she was having a Comprehension class and she asked me what the meaning of "rare" was. I clearly remember, being terrified as I stuttered "means very few, like good people are rare". I can also still remember very vividly certain lessons she taught, it was as if she knew perfectly how to arouse our imagination and get us absorbed into the story. There was one particular story about a quiet teacher (Miss Esta Maude) who led a double life. She was a racer by night and BAHROOOMMM BAHRREEEEEEMMMMM went her bright red racing car as it sped along the streets of her quiet town. My teacher would read to us with so much expression that most kids just stared at her, open-eyed and wide-mouthed with so much interest!
She was a very dedicated and talented teacher. She was petite and thin and wore a pair of thick black rimmed spectacles, which was what triggered me to write this blog. She once asked the class if they saw her spectacles as she searched high and low for it. Everyone giggled. It was on her head the whole time!
With her encouragement and guidance, I quickly transitioned and progressed in her subjects, coming from a school with a different language medium. I fell in love with Mathematics thanks to her. She had very interesting teaching methods. At the start of each Maths lesson, we had to draw a circle on the top right corner of the page with a 25 cent coin with the lesson number and by the end of the day, we had to complete the assignments and get the circle signed by her. At the end of the month she would punish all those who didnt have her signature on those circles so only a few got away. She even rewarded us for good work. Like once she taught us a new game called "French Cricket" and gave her class time for us to play!
Once though, I hit a boy in class with a broomstick. More like poked his stomach really hard. We were playing "catchers", boys versus girls. Anyone caught would be "locked", unable to move till someone "free" would come and "release" them. On this day, all the girls were caught except for me and I was the only one left to free the rest of them. Four boys were after me to catch me and assume victory, but I just could not let them, so I attacked one of them, hoping to scare them off. But he was hurt and my teacher pulled me up and gave a long and embarassing public lecture, which didn't feel so great.
Many many years later, I completed my A/Ls and while I was waiting to hear from my applications to universities, I took up a temporary teaching job at my school. The Principal was happy to recruit cheap labourers and some cash and working experience looked good on our resumes. Win-win. I was asked to take up responsiblity as the substitute Grade 4 class teacher, in place of that same teacher. They told me it was only temporary and to make sure the students didn't miss out on the lessons and were able to write the term-end exams. I agreed. I learnt later that this teacher was battling away with the last stages of breast cancer. She never came back to school. She didn't even want us to go and see her on her last few days. I only heard about her from time to time from another teacher. A few months later, she passed away. But the surprising thing was that I was here, teaching those same lessons she taught me when I was these children's age. I was not even half as good as her, but I gave it my best. Countless times I remembered her as I taught in that class.
The last I saw of her was at our final year awards and induction ceremony for the prefects. When I spoke to her then, I could see she was very proud of all her students. That's the amazing thing about good teachers. They are like the great winds that steer the course of our tiny ships. And even years after they are gone, their greatness is spoken about and in this case, even blogged!
A weekend comes to an end and I have work tomorrow!
The day started with sad news. The cat we have been looking after fondly and feeding at the car park had been run over by a vehicle and died an unpleasant death. My nephew, who is 3 years old, can't grasp the fact of death yet so he kept calling for "Kitty". Many years back, I would have been devastated over such news, being the emotional creature I am. However, this time, I was able to accept the truth for what it was, realising that all things come to an end after it runs its course. There was consolation in knowing that we made sure it didn't die of starvation, while it was alive.
Manners taught by parents and learnt by individual observation vary across cultures, places and ages. Today I came home after a round of heavy shopping, consisting of about 8-10 bags. I parked the vehicle outside the building with the hazard lights on and unloaded the bags to the step outside the lobby with several trips. I then called up my apartment and ask for the lobby door to be opened. Then I moved the bags to the inside of the lobby one by one, while managing a sliding door that closed automatically. Then I left the things there till I parked the vehicle and returned to the lobby. All the while I was doing this, there were two groups of men, one consisting of 5 and the other consisting of 2, standing right there watching me as they carried on their chatter. Now I am not saying they should have jumped in to help me or it was rude of them to just keep watching. I was perfectly capable of managing the task with a little extra effort. And I might have even preferred not to be approached by strangers to assist me. However, it is hard not to state that another group of people from an entirely different culture may have reacted differently to the situation, based on what they were taught/ learnt while growing up.
Maintaining good communication lines with people is important. We learn about it, we read about it and we even know the consequences of not following it. Yet, in real life, not everyone has the competence to follow it. Often, this leads to conflicts and misunderstandings. Once spoken, harsh words are difficult to take back. So next time, let's try to exercise more caution, shall we?
This is a catchy song that Shu likes. A bit of info on this artist: he was born in 1985 (so young!) to a Belgian mother and Rwandan father. This track reached #1 in a number of different countries starting May 2010, and still continues to remain popular. In my opinion, there is a great contrast in his voice and his facial features. His simplicity and portrayal of realism in the video is a refreshing change! "Alors on danse" by Stromae
I had a sheer stroke of luck last Wednesday when I won tickets to go and watch Day 1 of the Formula 1 Grand Prix 2010. Now I'm no fan of racing, but this seemed like the opportunity of a life time, and turned out, IT WAS!
Major details of how I won is unimportant. It was a fun quiz organised by the company and I got the highest score. The prize announced earlier was a couple of tickets to a theme park. However, in the last minute, the CEO threw in a couple of extra tickets for the Formula 1 race, that he had purchased, for which I am guessing he could not go. So plankton like me, right down in the food chain, felt like we hit a jackpot. Those tickets even included a free pass to a Kanye West concert later in the day. Should have seen my face light up, when I learnt of the bonus prizes! I think only Charlie's emotions when he found the last golden ticket inside a Wonka Bar could come close to that moment. Ok, maybe I am exaggerating a little. But this kind of thing doesn't happen to me everyday.
After getting over the many hours of shock, disbelief and joy, I had to pick a partner to accompany me to the race. It was not easy, on such short notice. I had 3 girl friends from work who are my closest friends. To pick one seemed impossible and heartless. Then I thought, I'll take another friend who I wasn't so close to. He agreed but ditched me later with a bunch of excuses. I tossed and turned in a state of insomnia most of that night, trying to figure it out. Early next day, I sent a sms to my closest friends from work explaining the situation. One of them was going on a vacation to Maldives in a couple of days, so I eliminated her, as I justified that she was already getting a chance to enjoy herself. One of them had gone to the F1 last year so she suggested that I take the 3rd friend. So it all ended peacefully and I had a partner!
The night before the races, some of us drove 2 hours for a free Sean Paul concert and drove back afterwards, reaching home at about 5:30a.m. It was a good concert overall. This was the first concert of its kind I have attended in about 10 years!! Our group consisted of a young guy, who had no issues making a total ass out of himself with some very goofy dance moves. It helped to smudge the fact I had only a couple of outdated dance moves from high school. Only one girl in our group had it in her to groove naturally to reggae. No surprises, she is from Africa!
The day arrived. A mere 3 hours of precious sleep later, and I was off to pick my F1 partner and drive 2 hours to the racing circuit. My Jeep - Chariotte, whose name was recently feminised by my French friend (also my F1 partner), was our faithful and reliable steed.
The F1 village was just jaw-dropping. Amazing. Gigantic. No words of mine can bring justice to how well built and organised it was. From the architecture to the well-trained friendly staff, I was totally blown away.
We did not see the F1 drivers up close and missed an autograph session as we were late, but we did see them racing and coming to their respective stations to change tyres. I also learnt a few extra names of these drivers! I think I only knew about 5 names before I arrived there. After sightseeing and enjoying the many events the day had to offer, we headed to the Kanye West concert. Another night of dancing and listening to booming music in a sea of people, all in the warm circle of my 3 closest friends here (2 of them who I could not take for the races, had managed to get free tickets just for the concert! The girl from Africa somehow gets what she wants!). I presume that with time and practice, my dancing would get better and the number of moves I have will increase and I'll stop dancing in one spot!!
This experience was the most I had enjoyed in years, even decades maybe. My F1 partner was fun to hang out with and a good sport. We took lot of photos, which I have not had my hands on yet. I am extremely thankful to my CEO, for if not for him, I would not have experienced such a memorable event.
With all that said, Shu can finally get back to blogging about mundane things!
Here's another favourite of mine: "Pump It" by The Black Eyed Peas
If you are the sole westerner in a largely Asian department, and you sneeze, you would never hear someone say "Bless you!". It happens all the time to one of my Canadian colleagues. A few times, I was tempted to say it out of courtesy, but it seemed rather lame when I thought about it, so I kept quiet.
My company is a very interesting place to work in. It has about 100 employees, consisting of about 25 different nationalities and the company takes alot of pride in bragging about it. Each morning, as the coffee machine dispenses "wake-me-up" beverages (close to where I sit), I hear a myriad of different languages spoken. I dont understand most of the conversations, but it sounds good as if I were hearing foreign songs with the added advantage of not knowing the exact nature of all their rants from yesterday.
There are alot of differences between the Asians and the westerners at work. Other than the obvious difference that westerners get paid 2-3 times higher for the same job (because they are better at asking for more), they are a bubbly bunch; very bold, informal, loud and sociable. The Asians, however, like to stick among people sharing common cultures, values, nationalities and religions. Their relationships with their bosses are formal in nature, with clear boundaries in hierachies. They are only loud among 'their' people, preferably when the bosses are not around. In my observations, a combination of such behaviours and attitudes have made Asians inferior on the professional front in large multicultural companies.
I had a brief visit to the library today and got excited as I saw a Roald Dahl book. I used to be a huge fan of his books when I was a kid. Charlie & the Chocolate Factory, Charlie & the Great Glass Elevator, Matilda, BFG and Fantastic Mr Fox, were some of them with fond memories. However, I found the book I borrowed very boring. Since his writing style didn't change, the only explanation would be that I have grown out of it. I have had similar experiences before where I could not re-create the childhood excitement I got as played certain games or did certain activities or ate certain food.
I seem to have secret admirers who like drawing patterns on the dust accumilated on my Jeep. A public car park is not a secure overnight resting place for my adorable Chariotte (yes, that's her name) and I worry that these "admirers" might get persistant and vandalise my Precious. The more attached I am, the more fear and worry I have.
We took junior to the park today. It is heart-breaking to drag them out when they are having so much fun and begs to go on the rides again. I can relate very well to the feeling of disappointment as my mother called me out of the swimming pool or out of the beach when the time was up.
The company had a new employee today. He seemed like he had just stepped out of a Bollywood movie shoot (lead role). I am not the type to obsess over random real-life humans, but it will take a couple of weeks to get over the "star struck" effect of this one.
The fashion sense here is outrageous, but it is no doubt one of the best songs of all time:
How did I end up here? One thing led to another, that's how. Circumstances, over which we have very little control on, lead us on different paths.
Weekends end almost as fast as they approach.
I can't remember the last time I slipped and fell. Might have been years ago. But today at the supermarket, I scraped my knee (through my denim) as I slipped and fell on child vomit. My initial reaction was shock, I don't even recall the pose I landed on! After a quick wash, my first thought was to ask somebody to make sure it was cleaned up. PREGNANT FOLK WALK BY, YOU INCONSIDERATE PRICKS! If your kid puked, warn the cleaners or wipe it with a tissue. Geez, have you any brains capable of comprehending consequences of your actions??
Also to note, I have advanced to the "Apprentice" level on Mouse Hunt!
I am thrilled to know you made it in the end, just like you wanted.
I got my new violin, the one that's going to help me practice and speed up my learning process in class. It looks and sounds great!
Just like some parents might be disappointed over getting a daughter when they expected a son, I am disappointed in the ugly greenish case it came in. But unlike those parents, I can probably get my case changed.
Class was good. Unfortunately, the teacher gives me too much attention, while two other kids sat idling and waiting for their turn. It might be because she finds it easier to teach an established student than a new student. But it is not a good feeling knowing that you are talking up time they could have spent learning something valuable.
External appearances of people can be deceiving, yet we lay alot of emphasis on it and base most of our character judgements on it.
Hmmm, what else?
I'll be going to my home country for a vacation. It's been an year since I last visited there and it's been 6 years since I left home for good. It feels like going to an unfamiliar land with strange (and mostly unacceptable) ways. Even slightly disappointing and depressing at the same time.
I'll go to a dimly lit house with much fond and not-so-fond childhood memories. My room's been given away, my cupboard is now a store for junk that my parents are not mentally prepared to throw away. My belongings have been reduced to a suitcase. Clothes don't fit anymore or are seriously out of fashion. I don't recognise my neighbourhood anymore. People stare at me like I am green or something. I find the content broadcasted in the media quite intolerable, as most are directly copied from popular TV shows in other parts of the world. Religious talks with good advice are broadcasted every day on TV and radio, several times even, but I don't see any significant improvement it has had on society while I was away. Sexually repressed men are on every corner, idling without any aim in life or sense of responsibility, preying on passers by with things ranging from insensitive remarks to harassment on public buses. Most conversations with elders conclude on the emphasis of a marriage. People talk mostly about others' affairs, gossip if you like to call it. People talk everyday for hours about topics that have no conclusions or solutions like the country's politics, cost of living or scandals that have nothing to do with them.
Having said all that, it is nice to go back to the warmth of the home that my parents have created. It is feels good to sit with them and listen to what they say. It is nice to see the joy in their aged eyes when they see us smile and talk of our accomplishments proudly. It's great to taste familiar food. It is lovely to admire the surroundings, scenery and beauty of the land that we we born on. It feels peaceful to see time slow down.
I'm actively playing Mouse Hunt on Facebook these days. Still on Recruit level. But managed to catch alot of mice today with some good mouse-hunting tips and a generous inheritance of gold :)
A series of events which occurred throughout the day triggered a strong emotional response. Even the fact that year 2010 was nearing its end was enough to move me. As I step over from 2010 to an uncertain 2011, I take with me the good I worked hard to build this year and I move farther away from some of the most strongly-bound memories of my past.
I worked 2 extra hours after work. I was not mentally exhausted and in fact, I was happy to do it for the company. Today, I learnt that the training my company sent me to a few days back was a very expensive one. Right now, I am feeling so grateful for it and for the livelihood this job provides me.
Some songs accidentally catch my attention (for no particular reason) and I have no peace till I find it and listen to the tune a hundred times to get over it. This one I heard while waiting at a traffic light on my way to work:
