imhotep

Dear All

I wish everyone a very good day, and that life is treating you with joy and happiness. A lot has happened in our lives & mine is no different from yours - the emergence of FB, the challenges of experiences, work. In short, it has been nothing short but life changing, to put it aptly and understatedly.

Thank you for reading my blogs. Since life has put me on a roller-coasted ride, I am now embarking on a new phase of life. Someday, I hope to evolve into a bigger being, write more observations and experience new things and challenges.

3tails.blogspot.com has been shut down because I am now shedding old skin for new ones at thistoowillpast.blogspot.com

Thanks to the test of life.

Till I see you there, here’s sending warm hugs and smiles your way.

Cheers!

The royal princesses have arrived! We have taken the Mouse’s palace by storm!!!! Snow has fallen, and the Sage attacked the M Princess!!!!! As we speak, the mouse is being force fed with cat fur!

Oh the horror. But ML will come to save him soon.
The Queen will finally descend from mediacorp and come out to entertain the rodents of the city.

Oh my god. Thank god it’s saturday.

& now introducing princess Y,M,L,C!!!!!
Consuming the latest Vitagen collagen, everyone instantly felt rejuvenated. Serenity overwhelmed the Royal Princesses who felt extremely ZEN and beautiful (like we already are). Why are we invading the Mouse Palace? Because the mouse is extremely good with the language, like “Squeak squeak”, and “SqueakCHEESEsqueak*!! the mouse came from africa and has travelled to various parts of the world including that seaside where the Mouse’s picture is taken from (the primary pic in fster)

You might not know, but all the previous posts were REALLY typed by a real life mouse. Just like Stuart Little, or Ratatouille’s REMY!!!!!! do you believe us now??? MICE CAN REALLY SPEAK!

hahahahhahhahahahahahahahhahaa

–

ok we are actually students from samuie’s english class.
as you can see, his teaching has paid off and we’re extremely creative!
namely,leejing, carryl, michelle and yiying!!!
haha!!!

whahahahahahahaha!!!
whahahahahahahha!!!
qhHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!!!!!!

K, MOUSE COMING, PRINCESSES SIGNING OFF!!! TATA!!!!

I’m seeking a new pasture. I found green at http://3tails.blogspot.com/

I’ve always thought that there’s something terribly wrong with the way human beings are evolving. Then came this forwarded email in my Inbox. Hm. Hmm. Hmmm….

Subject: FW: Obituary - The Passing away of Mr Common Sense

Today, we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: Knowing when to come in out of the rain; Why the early bird gets the worm; Life isn’t always fair; and Maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don’t spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6 -year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get
parental consent to administer Tylenol, sun lotion or a band-aid to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn’t defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue
you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in herlap, and was promptly awarded a huge set tlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents , Truth and Trust; hiswife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason.

He is survived by his three stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else IsTo Blame, and I’m A Victim.

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

SURESH NAIR
Journalist
Singapore Press Holdings

Five days was all it took for friendship to establish. What started as a task which we all had to commonly complete became a platform for great conversation, with promise of meeting up for coffee for more exchange of thoughts and ideas once the project was over. Two weeks later, I heard news of Brian’s tragic death. Shocked. Disbelief. It all felt so surreal. I took some time off work and attended his wake one morning. There, I met his wife, Fanny, for the first time. I introduced myself to her. She looked sad, as anyone would when in her situation. I told her about how her husband and I met; of the work that we had to do within that short amount of time. My heart sank when she said that her husband had told her the same thing too; that he had the best time working on that project and that he had made new friends.

"Do you want to see him?" she asked.

"Definitely," I replied, before the both of us made our way to the coffin. Therein lies Brian. He looked peaceful. I bowed my head down, in a moment of respectful silent. After that, we made our way back to the table.

"We talked a lot about philosophy. Of teacher and disciple. Abdundance mentality. Karma and merit too. He gave me a magazine," I told Fanny.

Her eyes welled before she said, almost pleadingly, "Please keep it."

"I will. Don’t worry," I assured her, with a promise that we will keep in touch. If I had felt a certain sense of loss, I know the feeling could never be matched with Fanny’s.

"I’m sorry I won’t be able to send him off at the cremation. But I will send him my prayers," I told Fanny.

"I understand," she said.

That day, when I returned to work, I felt that I’ve grown wiser. That day made a difference. I know what was in my heart as I sat myself down at my workstation. Then the magazine caught my attention.

‘Creative Life’, reads the title. I felt as if those words were spoken by a spirit. A soul who is gentle and honest. Someone whom I got to know in a matter of five days.

I just learnt one lesson in life. The conversation may have stopped but the lessons will continue. Thank you my friend. This is in your memory.

I met Teaching about ten years ago. We were full of passion when we first started. The romance was pure and innocent, one that I never thought I’d ever be in. After a year of courtship, we got engaged before finally deciding to sign on the dotted line. I figured back then that I was on the road towards some form of matrimonial bliss. I thought I was in heaven, well at least for a year I was. Friends saw how much I glowed. I reckon now that was just the ‘honeymoon period’. Fast forward the courtship, engagement and matrimonial vow, I gradually discovered the real depth of Teaching. She’s awesome but she has her flaws. I could live with that in the beginning but ten years later, I have a nagging feeling that I can no longer live with Teaching. Not when the bed no longer offers a place of comfort for the both of us, or that the home no longer offer a nest for uninterrupted respite. And peace. Teaching does not offer me the company that I want so badly to have. Sometimes she shifts me to a state of inner disequilibrium but I always hold my peace. Her tantrums, her rigid minds, her demands and fancies and the company that she keeps no longer appeal to me. I’m beginning to lose my sense of purpose with her. Yet, I don’t know if I’d ever be able to live without her. After all, she’s my first love.

I’m contemplating a divorce. But, how will she take it? How will I take it? Will I be able to tell her that despite the divorce, she’d always be one of the torches that I’d hold dear in my heart? Or could it be that I’m simply a renegade?

I can feel her touch every waking moment. Sometimes in my dream. Teaching, while I contemplate on the fate of our intimate relationship, I’d like to dedicate this song to you. I heard it over the radio this evening while eating pizza for dinner. I’m sorry I didn’t take you home today. Wherever you are, don’t come near me….. let me close my eyes so that I can hide. Hide from you….

Sometimes When We Touch - Dan Hill

You ask me if I love you
And I choke on my reply
I’d rather hurt you honestly
Than mislead you with a lie
And who am I to judge you
On what you say or do?
I’m only just beginning to see the real you

And sometimes when we touch
The honesty’s too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you til I die
Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides

Romance and all its strategy
Leaves me battling with my pride
But through the insecurity
Some tenderness survives
I’m just another writer
Still trapped within my truth
A hesitant prize fighter
Still trapped within my youth

And sometimes when we touch
The honesty’s too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you til I die
Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides

At times I’d like to break you
And drive you to your knees
At times I’d like to break through
And hold you endlessly

At times I understand you
And I know how hard you’ve tried
I’ve watched while love commands you
And I’ve watched love pass you by

At times I think we’re drifters
Still searching for a friend
A brother or a sister
But then the passion flares again

And sometimes when we touch
The honesty’s too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you til I die
Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides

3+4=7. One of my favourite numbers. First thing first, thank you so much to everyone who sent me emails, phonecalls and sms (made me smile while I was in camp) wishing me marvellous birthday greetings. As the year goes by, the celebration takes on a different style. Not that it was always about party poppers and what-have-yous but truth be told, this year’s birthday was celebrated military style - army uniform, logistics work and countless moments of ‘rush to wait and wait to rush’ *for those familiar with the way the military works will know what I mean*. Regardless, that ‘deprivation’ from being able to be with family members and friends on special days like a birthday served a higher purpose.The yearning and love for them grow stronger, especially when sis told me that mom prepared a special dish *a family tradition which she does on all of her children and grandchildren’s birthday* on my birthday and ate it with Bibik, never mind if I was not around on that day. Mom’s a beauty and I think all mothers are. Thank GOD for this one important creation.

I’m glad to be a year older. At 34, I cannot say for sure if I know what to feel about it. Yet, I know I’m happy because birthdays somewhat make one take a step back to reflect on one’s life. There are so many things I’ve done (and mistakes) and places I’ve visited. At the same time too, there are so many things I want to do, have not done (such as getting a driver license) and places I want to visit. One thing certain is, there wouldn’t be a number 34 in my life if not for the blessings from people around me and of course, mommy and daddy dearest. Oh! I love them so much and am missing them.

I’m running out of space on Friendster Blog, so now it’s time to blow the candles and let LOVE reign. May the energy resonates to one and all on this beautiful rainy/lightnight-filled Sunday night….

Woooooooof!!

[No moms no birthdays}

Storm’s meowing stirred me up from my sleep. The first thought that came to mind was that she’s hungry. Immediately, I got out of bed to check on her. The childlike pleading pulled my heartstring.

‘Yes, baby. What’s wrong?’ I asked, only to receive another pleading meow as a reply. Walking towards the kitchen, the three felines hopped like little children, trailing every footstep I made. I was careful. I had to make sure that I did not disrupt the quiet serenity of Dawn. As I got into the kitchen, I noticed three empty food trays and immediately filled it up; not much though, just three-quarter of a scoop. The felines looked happy. I’m glad the meowing stopped.

I decided to head back to bed only to find myself curling up like a ball for a good ten minutes. I gave up trying to fall back to sleep. Fifteen minutes after, I found myself armed with a cup of hot cocoa which John bought from the organic food-market at Vivocity. I marvelled silently at the refreshing after-effect of the first sip of hot cocoa - a perfect partnership to have at dawn. I smiled in my heart.

“There’s just a certain chemistry between Cocoa and Samuie that make them a perfect pair,” I thought. I became a happy man. I found myself transported into a state of virtual enlightenment, a dreamland that spells happiness and joy; isolation and togetherness. I felt within me, a certain stirring of gratitude that somewhat defined me as person, a man with hopes, aspirations and needs that far supercede what money can buy, yet at the same time an urge that I should not stop doing what I’m doing in life - work, seeking meaning, searching for a purpose in all the things I needed to do and earning a living that would enable me to buy the little luxuries - a couch to relish in my inner thoughts and a fancy little mug that cupped every little drop of cocoa..

I felt somewhat a Contrarian being; someone who loathed at the need to embrace the dreadful vicious circle of the daily grind and the bitter grapevine that circulate around the neighbourhood while at the same time able to sift through these loathing and be appreciative of the fact that these necessary evils in life were vehicles to realise an inner awareness. Naturally, the quietness of dawn that was sometimes interrupted by the engines wheezing by along the minor road across my flat brought to mind people I loved dearly. On other days, these wheezing would be noise, a pollutant that served to further impair my hearing as I moved on in numbers, yet on that very earthly morning, the same wheezing became music to my ears; a breathe of fresh air that signalled living and existence; a ‘noise’ that painted in my mind a picture of a survivor serving the daily grind for bread and butter . In short - of hope. Through the wheezing, I imagined a man leaving behind his family for the day to drive a pick-up truck loaded with fresh vegetables to be delivered to the wet-market; or a man in the ritualistic commute for other souls like him. I got reminded of the auntie with the headscarf who I saw days ago probably heading in the same route. I felt in my heart, a certain humility and gratitude at being able to partake in this so-called vicious circle as an observer, the outsider who thought he probably knew what was happening in others’ life yet in truth, would never be able to completely emphatise with them because he was simply viewing at their existence through a window - his window.

The stillness of that dawn sustained itself almost endlessly. As I got out of my couch to get a second helping of the hot cocoa, I saw Storm perched on the uppermost level of the multi-level kitty scratch-post by the living room window, observing every minute detail of the stillness and noise that I penned in my heart.

I felt within me yet another perfect partnership.

[looking out or in]

“Frank: Who is that? Nietzsche? So you stopped talking because of Friedrich Nietzsche? Far out.” Little Miss Sunshine

I haven’t stopped talking. I have just lost my voice. Plus, my life last weeks have been unbelievably hectic!

Last weekend, I woke up with a sense of gratitude. I had a nightmare. In it, I was with a group of friends on a holiday to an island off Japan/HK. There, we stayed at the villa only to find out later that each one of us was to become prey to a serial killer. We had only one boat that could only fit a maximum capacity of six people to take us back to mainland. After balloting, I was one of the lucky six to be able to go back to mainland. The other five were all girls. At the villa living room, my friends who had to stay on in the island to face the serial killer, and I hugged each other in tears. I felt sorry I couldn’t help them beyond that and was crying when I suddenly realised that one child was left unaccounted. I immediately rushed to look for the child and somehow entered a room. There, I saw Britney Spears being murdered by the serial killer. Then I ducked and reached under the bed to look for the unaccounted child. I couldn’t find the child. I went back to the living room to find the five girls had left without me, since I was looking for the child. I immediately jumped into the sea and swam across to the mainland. Once ashore, I sprinted for my life. Everyone else was doing the same. While running, I saw Victoria and David Beckham sprinting for their lives. Victoria fell at a bend but I continued running before reaching the back of an airport. What I saw before me immediately after was a maze of corridors. A guy tapped on my shoulder and took me into a room. I felt queasy while in the room and asked the guy if he could show me the way out. They was no response or an inkling of wanting to offer help. I immediately left the room and saw Kamal, my secondary school buddy. His physique was not his usual. He was muscular. Then we went to the toilet. I told Kamal about the serial killer. Mockingly, he feigned death and I immediately kicked him. I peered outside the toilet and saw a tall, blond man with sleeveless top. Immediately I sensed that he was the serial killer. Suddenly, my mind recollected the cry for help which I heard while in the room with the guy. I felt bad I didn’t react to his ‘help me’ cries. I started crying. Then I started running before I reached the gate where I met the other five girls. They were happy to see me and I was glad to to see them. We hugged each other while at the same time felt terribly sad (and guilty) of those whom we left behind. All around us at thet airport gate was tv news reporting on the serial killer who was still at large. Suddenly, I was back at home and I heard a door-knock. I opened the door and saw my late DAD, who passed something to me with a very faint and peaceful smile. I reached out my hand to receive his giving before he turned around.

Then I woke up,

A week after, I still remember the dream vividly. I’ve shared with many people important to me - friends, family and students. If my dream then was one that probably project the hectic routine I was in the last weeks (exams, planning, progamme follow up etc etc), perhaps tonight I will be able to dream of fluffy clouds and turtle doves. I find myself finally getting my own space to actually pen my thoughts and scribble it all down in this blogspace.

Alas, quiet time for a hectic body. I relish joyfully at the fact that I’m able to soak in my own inner stirrings at this very moment - 2 am Sunday morning. There are so many thoughts that linger - some good, some not so good. Nonetheless, there’s always the excitement of being able to look forward to things that eventually matter. For one, John will be coming to Singapore. Then, my niece will be getting married. Huey and I will be going for STEP in Thailand come June, the cultural concert (Metamorphosis) to manage etc etc. Yes, there is also the move to a new school premise. The school holidays which is only a week away will translate to me having extra bit of time to really do things that nurture the soul; reaquaint with my real self. Oh yes!, there’s the Bali holiday too. Yippee!!

With so much to look forward to, I guess dead or alive, the one thing that really matter in life is being alive. Everyday we meet people who try to kill our spirits - sometimes with wildfire gossips, sometimes point blank rudeness (rudeness is not synonymous to frankness) at other times with discouraging enthusiam or blatant gloating at one’s ill health. Most times however, we will meet people who are just not too sure of what is going on around them or within (insecurity is not equal to inadequacy) them so much so that these uncertainties manifest themselves via actions that only ‘killers’ do. If only everyone were to take some time to ‘get to know’ each other, wouldn’t our experiences be much better? Or will it be a case of familiarity breeds contempt?

Regardless, I’m happy to know that even after seven years, dad is still in my life. And he’s here to protect me from harm. For all that the nightmare is worth, dad had spoken through my dream that we both matter to each other. And most importantly, we know each other.

Truth like this one keeps one alive. Never mind the busy schedule and predictable people. After all, why play killers or victims when one can play hero? Wouldn’t that make being alive (and staying so) more purposeful?

[dreamstate]

“Old McDonald had a farm. E Ai E Ai Oo! In his farm he had some children. E Ai E Ai Oo!…’

What I thought would be a typical Saturday night out proved to be atypical indeed. With just 45 minutes left before I collect the tickets to ‘The Number 23′ , I decided to have dinner at Swensen’s. Just as I was getting seated, I saw someone turned to my direction and realised that he was an ex-student, one of a pair of identical twins. I was not sure if it was Jowe or Joel (I really cannot tell the difference) but nonetheless, I remember this ex-student to be someone who is polite and gracious. I flashed a smile as I acknowledged his presence. Immediately after, I placed my order - grilled dory fish and a glass of coke. I told the waitress to speed up the order for I did not want to miss the beginning of ‘The Number 23′. The waitress was extremely pleasant about it and well, what can I say, I enjoyed my dinner particularly since it was only recently that I acquired the taste for fish. In the middle of my meal, Joel (or Jowe?!) came over to my table and we chatted as I hurriedly ate my dinner. We talked about school and I got him to give me updates on his current educational pursuits. It is nice to hear how well he’s doing in pursuit of higher education. With both of us giving updates on what’s familiar to the both of us - OUR school - I realised that seated right in front of me was a kid whom I had taught for only a semester (or a brief period I think) but who had nonetheless made his presence felt. Hurriedly, I told Joel (or Jowe?!!) that I needed to rush for the movie. We bade each other goodbye and I made way to the cashier to settle the bill only to find out from the cashier that Joel (Jowe?!!) had paid for my meal!! As much as I felt surprised by the kind gesture, I found myself blushing with awkwardness, unsure as to how I should react or say beyond ‘thank you’. The unexpected gesture from an ex-student is something that I will remember forever. I cannot quite put a word to describe the experience but if Joel (Jowe?!!) ever gets a chance to read this, here’s my most sincere thought, ‘Thank You!’. :-))

Tonight’s experience brought back to mind an event that happened a few years ago. While I was chilling out in a lounge at Raffles City with Jay, Huey etc, a waitress came to me with a glass of red wine. She politely told me that the wine was from an ex-student who happened to be in the same lounge as us! I looked for her and she cheerfully waved at me. We spoke briefly and again, I felt the same kind of awkwardness as I felt tonight.

Speaking of waving, a few months back while I was crossing the traffic at Orchard Road, I heard a honk. I saw someone with a bright, familiar smile waving. It was Eugene, another ex-student who still wears the same neatly gelled hair. Lol…

It’s fascinating indeed to be surprised. More so when the surprise actually comes from someone who was at one point in time one’s young charges. Suddenly one sees in them an adult; particularly when the chance meeting takes place at dance clubs or work seminars etc. The same person that was once scolded for not being on task with the homework, or praised for being able to stay out of trouble suddenly now shares the same playground as you! At best, the same profession!

[Johore Trip]

[Goofing around!]

[CHAOS ALERT! Roving Reporters]