The Test

It must have been ages, and I never really wanted to start off again with such a short entry. But seriously, every encounter I have with a new person tells me how loved I have been. I can ask for no one else. And I can beg for no better luck.

Certainly, she has to be the person I hold till the wind sweeps away our very bones and souls.

The Spirit of Recycling

It was the start of the 7th month, and at the backs of restaurants, incense and gold-painted papers burnt fervently, with the ashes flying frivolously in search of their owners in after-life.

Cameron Highlands, at six o'clock in the evening, still stood clear of haze. The cooling 20 degrees celsius refreshed our senses; and despite having sat a gruelling 9 hour bus ride from Singapore to arrive a few thousand feet above sea-level, our inner fires were kept alive by fresh air and chilly winds. As I walked along the streets of the tiny town of Brinchang, I could feel the slow pace of the society and the curiosity of the tourists that made up more than half the population.

Out of the 10 eating places that we saw at one glance, 6 were in the business of "steam-boat". Ringgit $25 for 2 persons was a rather attractive price. Because the recommended stall was closed for the day, we settled for the stall directly next to it.

Bristling houseflies attacked from all directions. Even the heat of the flames under the cooking pot did not stop them from diving dangerously near to the boiling water. Such a scene would have warranted a call to the ministry of environment at my place; but certainly, in Malaysia, if hygiene standards were a little more enforced, there will be no more eating places left in this country.

Perhaps I was brought up in an environment of dust and grime; perhaps I had insight into the situation of the countryside and empathised with these Cameroners - I was not too concerned about the insects. We heartily devoured the food on the table. As our food gargled gently in our stomachs, and as digestion was driving our morales to a high point, the impossible occurred.

The waitress came over and asked, "Do you still need the garlic?"

She was referring to this small, half-finished bowl of garlic. We thought she was clearing the table.

"No, you can take it," I replied, smiling courteously.

That smile quickly got erased from my face. The waitress had taken this half-finished bowl of garlic and placed it on a table directly in front of us. It was to be used by the new customers. The customers, surprisingly, were nonchalant about the "used" garlic. I was very disturbed. Hygiene standards here were really beyond hope.

Indeed, I felt I was at another dimension at that time. So unearthly was that act of transferring that my mind just blanked out in disgust. Was I also eating leftover garlic just now? Was the soy sauce leftover too? How about the meat and vegetables that we cooked?

I had wanted to walk out of the stall and not pay. In Singapore, I think I would have been correct morally and legally.

We paid for our food, and wished the dinner had been less memorable.

The Prospect of Hard Work

Yesterday, exams proper end. A sigh of relief would have been a disrespectful underestimate of the 2 months of effort I have put in. The number of hours I have spent perusing material repeatedly; the health I have forgone to ensure maiximum time for study and minimum time waste; the lack of a good sleep every night as my heart beat relentlessly like a horse galloping in a race - all the hard work.

Will hard work always be repayed with success? That is the question to be answered.

I am sure you remember what your mum or your priest have told you, when you are young, that good begets good and evil begets evil. Translated to the present ideology, the height of your success should be equal to the amount of hard work you fork out. Could such a belief be just material made for nursery rhymes and fairy tales? Why does the beautiful girl sometimes hold hands with the beast, and why does the soup sometimes taste different when the same ingredients are used?

Hard work does not necessarily mean success. But it certainly means a spark plug to success. The route to success is one shaped by luck and timing of circumstances that lead to an event. With the right knowledge, the right questions and the right sequence, success will be ensured.

Perhaps it also boils down to being able to create answers or solutions by power of logic, and doing something another way when it has been done wrongly all the time. Do you think Einstein would have got to the equation of E=MC^2 just by being a historian of physics? He knows the theory; but the theory leads him to success only because he has exercised the power of logic and possessed a lucky spark of genius.

Then this may explain why some exam-toppers fair so badly in the real worklife. Knowledge is dead; application of knowledge with logic is the determinant of survival in the real world.

Hard work, hence, in the context of exams, is almost equivalent to success in results; in the context of the real world, hard work is only one of the many determinants of success.

Will hard work always be repayed with success? It shall be answered maybe tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then one day in the future when success is judged differently.

The Regret

One slip of the mind
I was caught unawares
Devious was the trick
Submerged, delirious and depressed

Falling off from the steep ladder
I was landed with a thud
Bloody was the injury
Irreversible, dead and barred

Climbing the steps again
I was feeling the weight of heaviness
Rebirth was the goal
Determined, energised and reversed

Bearing in mind the wrong
I was tasting bitter and regret
Poignant was the lesson
Embedded, scarred and slapped

The Possession

My friend EW was a nice man, who had had 2 previous girlfriends before the present one. The first was not detailed in the history that he had given me and so shall remain forever anonymous. The second was the girl of any guy's dream.

"I was going down the escalator one day, and I found this sweet lady staring at me as she came up the other escalator. I felt strange and went all the way up just to confront her... ..."

It was a union that sounded like a scene from the romantic movies of our time. I had thought it was rather rare to meet your prospective girlfriend on a staring incident like that. From complete strangers who walked past each other to lovers who held hands and strolled in the park as if the whole park was made for him and her - remarkable to an extent that was magical. Moreover, this girl had enough calibre to be a beauty queen - she was not just an apple in an apple tree; she was a flower in a field of grass.

The good times of the second relationship ended with fond memories and with pictures worth a thousand words and a million "I love you"s. Then stormed in the third girlfriend - nothing too special about her, except that she was absolutely devoted and commanding. She extended an "iron fist" over EW despite having only a short and stubby figure. Every move was tirelessly monitored by this female eagle.

It wasn't long before the cat was let out of the bag. Girlfriend III rampaged his belongings and discovered the poorly hidden photos of his past - a past he had treasured and often thought about; a past of him and his beauty queen ex-girlfriend. Girlfriend III was furious beyond words. She gave EW no time to react as she vehemently tore up the precious photos. There was no way to retrieve those images. They were in pieces and were thrown out of the window to produce a shower of black snow. Just as black snow will appear once and never appear again, so the memories of girlfriend II will expire as the ravage of time slowly erases the last bits of sweetness...

A by-stander would find girlfriend III's outburst of jealousy most ungracious. She had invaded the privacy of EW, and had caused him emotional hurt by heartlessly crushing the memory of a very substantial part of his life. Afterall, EW may not have become the man that he was today without having met girlfriend II. Girlfriend III may not have become girlfriend III. The future is akin to milk; and the past events are akin to a cup; the milk takes the shape of the cup. The future is always the result of the events that lead to it.

But further evaluation will justify the actions of girlfriend III. She was in fact working on the principle of Barter trade - an item of certain value must be exchanged for an item of similar value. In this case, she had given EW her complete love and trust. Her attention and her thoughts of intimacy were exclusively focused on EW. To her, it was inconceivable to have to "share" EW's attention with another girl. It was unfair trading! Then, one can understand that the emotional hurt, as already mentioned, had been inflicted to a greater degree on the suffering girlfriend.

In a relationship, one partner becomes the possession of the other. Such an idea may suggest a general loss of freedom - the freedom of speech; the freedom of thought; as well as the freedom of action. But this tempting thought is to be refrained; because it is in teamwork that men can set out to achieve bigger things unattainable by singular effort. The best team would be made up of members with one mind, one body and one goal. A perfect couple - of one mind, one body and one goal - would, hence, be the perfect team. It would be ruinous if this mind were contaminated by thoughts that do not contribute to the ultimate goal; for it is the mind that guides the body to the goal.

Indeed, the past may have made EW. But the possession of the past will only weaken the possession of the present, and jeopardise the possession of the future.