Thursday, September 28, 2006

In Thee alone

Drawing the moments to pass for lines
Trading my seconds for bread yet seen
If ever it hard to find a place
For me with Thee, Thine own –

In gardens green, in beaches white
In music sweet, but as I am…
Dear Lord,
My soul finds rest in Thee alone.

~ h u i c h u a n ~

Monday, September 25, 2006

the apple pie...

A simple recipe for an apple pie.

Ingredients:

a trip down to Malacca (2 hour drive)
a home (whole and warm)
a generous scoop of good company (friend and brother^^)
a slice of a day (afternoon)
a tablespoon of madness/inspiration (excuse for baking)
3 bowls of laughter (by-product of talking)
a pinch of will power (to stay awake on an afternoon)
2 full measures of youthfulness (20s is perfect)
a revised concept of R&R (hands work while mind sleeps)
a bottle of joy (glass lasts longer than plastic)
a recipe book (highly recommended!)

25th September

Blessed Birthday Pa. I love you :)

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Rainbows in my room

I walked passed a pet store last evening on my way for dinner. There they were, tiny livebearer fries and a molly swimming in the display tank. I froze on the spot. I couldn’t just walk pass these little ones...a warm-blooded creature I am after all...

The display tank had been without fish for a few weeks now, and bubbles have been forming on the tip of Java mosses tied to driftwood to form a delightful landscape. These tiny bubbles are a good sign of growth, showing an adequate amount of carbon dioxide present in the tank. The starter fishes which were just added in together with some ghost shrimps are needed to produce ammonia for the nitrogen cycle to begin. It would then take a few weeks before there is enough bacteria to sustain the cycle.

The clear brownish water (caused by the presence of driftwood), also suggests a level of acidity suitable for most tropical fishes. It would make the water sour, but it is good and helps in bringing out the colour of certain fishes such as neons, cardinals and glowlights from the Characidae family. The water teamed with life and I couldn’t help myself, but to stand still, drinking in the beauty of aquatic life.

There was a time where I had this luxury right in my room, on my desk. This tropical fish craze which can be excused as a hobby resurrected itself in me again for the past 2 years that I was back home working. As a kid, I used to frequent a little pet shop in front of my grandparents’ place. The owner kept birds, rabbits, mice and fish. I knew the prices of each different kind of fish and their names too back then.

Coming back to my room, I had them all there; tetras, suckermouth catfishes, rasboras, danios, minnows, bettas, loaches, barbs and rainbows. Over a span of a year, many seemed to have come and gone, but the centerpiece of the tank was the rainbows. I kept Boesemani Rainbows, tough fishes dipped in yellow and blue. An introduction of a few harlequins into the tank brought along some unwanted disease and fin-rot wiped practically every swimming thing that I had, save for the rainbows and the golden barb. To see dead fishes floating in the tank everyday with signs of white fin rots and cotton mouth was disheartening. But to buy medicine and to set up a hospital tank was to spend money that could have been used to replenish the tank a few times over. Did I value the lives of these tiny helpless creatures? Hmm…

Rainbow fish. So named because of their colours which rival that of marine fishes. They come in many colours, and watching them swim and interact with one another adds colour to life. The picture above is in memory of them, after I left them as orphans for many months…

Monday, September 18, 2006

When I was young-err…

WARNING: For those below 26 years of age only, or else may find this offensive…I have fore-warned…haha!

‘Wouldn't it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn't have to wait so long…’ Catchy tune! And it was playing to us over Light and Easy on a lazy Sunday afternoon as my co-driver and I were driving through Sunway.

The message that morning was on ‘Stewardship of Leisure,’ by Pastor Tim. Among many things, he mentioned that people as young as in their 20s are now also facing midlife crisis. Hmm…interesting, and the LCD assistant on that day had to look at me… Haha! Have I signs of deep-seated feelings of inadequacy, boredom, desperation and unhappiness…? Hmm…Nah! So I shook my head, gladly.

The Beach Boys made the drive a leisure. ‘Wouldn't it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn't have to wait so long…’

Two nights ago, I was driving into the LDP after Young Adults’ Fellowship and someone I was giving a lift to, knowing my age, asked me matter-of-factly, ‘so why do you join the youth?’ Thinking of a reasonable answer to her many questions, I simply replied, ‘coz I think I still feel young.’ Not enough to satisfy her question, she remarked, ‘yeah, right!’ And she had to inflict laughter into her statement. I felt it mean. But also, I felt so…do-you-know-that-it-is-so-hard-to-admit-it true, blatantly. I was neither here nor there in these two groups.

Last night I had a great time with Esther, Jon and Dutt at the Koh’s abode. The night felt cozy, simple and quiet being with the Koh siblings as Maxim’s velocity of love played over their laptop. It was such a sentimental piece, something reflectively nostalgic as the motif of the few descending notes weaved themselves seamlessly through the whole piece through the deftness of the virtuoso’s touch. And the atmosphere was transformed back to the good old Uni days as I found myself in the company of good friends sharing in somber tones over various issues at an unearthly hour. There was no specific time to meet, talk, share and fellowship back then…and within the still pronunciation of the night, the fellowship seemed to glow. Silently, I felt a youth again...

As a consolation too, a discovery was made. I was not the only one feeling old. Events and circumstances in life do wrought a maturity in a person making him/her feel beyond their age. Coming from a 22-year old, there was at least someone younger who could empathize with this (incomprehensible?) feel of feeling old at 20s.

‘Wouldn't it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn't have to wait so long…’ Looking at the Beach Boys now, I'm not too sure if they had not thought of rephrasing that song...

Friday, September 15, 2006

A knock on the door...

Phases of life

If there are transitions in life, what follows would be a new phase. The old has gone (?) the new has come. What’s new and what’s old? Certainly not life itself, but the condition and environment that it finds itself to be in. When I say I live in the Klang Valley for instance, it does not mean that I cease to live once outside this City. I am a-live, living in the midst of change. And change is the key to all phases in life.

A transition

When black meets white, the transition has to be grey. In music, we call it the bridge, a passageway linking one section to another. It is a doorstep in architecture, in vertical or horizontal planes to mark the meeting of two separate spaces. We employ the Fold to blur the edges and differences of such spaces, creating a smooth blend between the two. No matter how we term it or go about connecting one to the other, a transition bears testament of change. One of the shortest and most complete transitions I had was during the flight back from Melbourne Airport to KLIA.

Change

A change happens when something is not the same as it was before. What causes change? Time? It is the rule of Nature that everything decays. It was spelt after the Fall. And time has been ticking ever since. But Redemption brought the reverse. Anyhow, everything changes except Change, as goes a Spanish saying. In different environments, does anyone not change? As it is, things and people change even in the same environment. Time ticks, endlessly.

Time

Memories and nostalgia both have the basic ingredient of time. Good times and bad times are determined not by time, but by our existence in a particular time. But time does alter time. Memories and perception of things and time doesn’t always remain the same. Some call it relative. Time is said to be relative. The clock ticks but there are things is life that orbits not around the sun. We revolve nonetheless.

The confluence

Two liner lines running parallel will theoretically not meet. But life is more interesting than that. Moving forwards we go through transitions. We might not necessarily call it progressions as it would then render a going back, regression. But what happens when the old suddenly appears? What happens when the phases of life, transitions, change and time suddenly converge to a knock on the door? Is reconciliation always found at the confluence of many matters in life?

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Clouds in my coffee…

It poured buckets last Saturday noon. And I was trapped in Mydin. And when there’s ample time to spare, with almost nothing much to do…except circling round the two floors of this new building…one tends to do silly things, or things silly. Well, that is if one found himself in my shoes…

To amuse myself I could have… taken a census of the male to female ratio of payers on a single counter lane, help arrange items so that their front labels faced me, compare prices of different products in the same category, practice mental arithmetic with discounts or try doing some measure drawings by estimates and fool myself that I can conceive the plan of the whole building in my mind. Instead, I did the rather unthinkable. I saw a weighing scale on the floor below a shelf of similar scales and...yes, stood on it!

That was ok. The no-so-ok part was, it showed my weight to be 59kg! From 70 in my Uni days to a staggering 59kg now after 4 years… Anyone obese would have rejoiced (and probably danced in the rain outside…), instead, I was puzzled. Maybe also lost self-esteem…lol! No! But it made me worry.

Clad in lean meat which the machine indicated bluntly a loss in weight, or body mass, I almost found myself floating in disbelieve as I made my way out of the building. Something foreign must have been feeding on my body tissue…or an organ, or maybe a few unseen ones could have shrunk without external manifestations…have I not been feeling irrationally tired lately? Hmm… I needed a second opinion.

Carly Simon’s song was jarringly clear above the commotion of the pasar malam at Taman Megah last night when Dutt and I headed over after badminton. And she was belting out ‘You’re so vain.’

‘Don’t you? Don’t you?’

Me?!

Although it was obvious that she wasn’t thinking that I was vain enough to think that that song was for me…she made me feel vain!

And I needed a second opinion too.

In a pasar malam? No, in Ming Tian. There it was, tucked at the entrance to the toilets, in yellow. Do I trust digital over an analogue? I don’t know. But there are more important issues in life…and with 20 cents to spare, it showed me what I wanted to know. 68.5kg.

P h e w!

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Dutt Way's Convocation

The Monash University KL Campus had their Graduation Ceremony Year 2006 yesterday, 6th September 2006. Held at Sunway Lagoon Hotel’s Auditorium, it was a two part event that had Business and Economics at 2.30pm and Arts, Education, Engineering, Information Technology, Medicine, Nursing and Health Sciences, Science at 7.30pm. If baptism was to publicly announce to the world (or to those who attend the ceremony) that one is a Christian (although one does not become a Christian by baptism alone…), than convocation is like-wise; a sort of a public announcement and recognition that one has already earned well for a degree. Among those robbed in their respective academic gowns, standing tall (or seating comfortably…) is Wong Dutt Way, from the Faculty of Science.

The hall was packed when I arrived after work at 7.30pm. As usual, formal occasions always invite this grand and artificially perfect environment where people from all walks of life come dressed in probably their best to be lighted up is this 5-star venue. The air of celebration was silent but thick, and joy and pride were neatly tucked under beaming faces of family and friends as I walked down the aisle to where Aunty Vanessa and Pek Mei were at Dutt’s signals.

The processional entry was ushered into the hall by Clarke’s ‘The Prince of Denmark’s March’, or more commonly known (to the non-Danes) as ‘Trumpet Voluntary.’ It only came to us later in the ceremony that the ‘baton’ staff-like orb thing held by one of the academic marchers is called the ‘Mace.’

A brief speech and some formal greetings and acknowledgements were all that was needed to start the ball rolling. The highlight of the event was to see a beeline of to-be graduates going up and down the stage to get their degrees. Styles of applause were suited to the different names and degrees – the ones with unique names, long names…I’ll give you one (sorry to who ever you are…haha!) B Mudiyamselege Dushmantha Thusithakumara Walakulpola of Business and IT. Also, the last name on the list…a rapture of applauses showered to more likely end the ceremony than for the poor graduate…

Family and friends were not allowed to pass a certain point for stage photo-taking. Many felt that it was total unfairness to bestow total monopoly of photo-taking to a certain party. Well, it’s ok if the prints came out good and reasonably priced. But it did not! RM50 for a piece of doggy 5R candid photo shot was a rip-off! Furthermore, it was taken at a poor angle which neither had a clear focus of the graduate nor displayed enough photography skill worthy of a RM50 note. The only thing it managed to achieve was an orderly atmosphere sans the distraction of excited individual photographers.

I was promised a series of boring speeches ^^. I was ready to endure. But the let down was, there was only one of those typical intellectually-smart sounding speech which the more you don’t understand or the drier it is, the more academic it tends to sound. Also, it was to be a commission to the fresh grads before they left the academic fold into the working world termed ‘real world.’ Thanks Y. Bhg. Tan Sri Razali Ismail.

The night marked the end of the student days for some, a beginning of unemployment for others, and a ticket into the ‘real world’ for the rest.

Aunty Vanessa and Pek Mei left, while Dutt and I joined his bunch of highly entertaining fresh biotech grad friends at Ming Tian. We later adjourned to Starbucks. A really lackadaisical evening over some ice-blended coffee and amusing stories told of friends, from friend, for friends about friendship. It was at the Pyramids, but it felt more like the crossroads where the path forward wasn’t the same anymore. One could pick a nostalgic ring or two in between all that has been said…but I’ll spare the dignity of these guys…lol!

We stayed at the Pyramid Tower, courtesy of a complimentary stay received by Dutt’s mum. And to stay in a hotel on a weekday as sort of a holiday was such a great change and experience! Thanks Aunty Vanessa!! :)

And to you, Mr. Biotech, a big congratulations! Well done!!

To quote Sir John Monash: “Ancora imparo!”

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Il Divo

Il Divo, great image, great voices. If ever I was granted the prospect to sing in a quartet, this would be my idea model. Also, granted that I had the voice, talent and look…all of which means that there’s more wishful dreaming to do than actual vocal practice itself…haha!

I’m a huge fan of Il Divo, and ‘Mama’ was the song which convinced me to buy their self-entitled debut album when I had read almost nothing about them yet. Their second album, Encora was equally a joy to listen to. There is however another US-only release album, The Christmas Collection. The cetak-rompak CDs sold tend to include these Christmas songs in them, but since I got the originals,…I tried hunting high and low for those few numbers…

Then came Beijing. I bought Russell Watson’s ‘The Ultimate Collection’ and had Il Divo’s Encora in it too. Plus, all the Christmas songs! Err…whether or not it was an ori. or a pirated copy… it bears some holographic YX seal on the cover with Chinese words…which can just mean anything. No matter.

While I am an ardent fan (‘ardent fan’ sounds kiddy to me, somehow…) of these singers, there’s just this one song which baffles me, ‘Silent night.’ It’s their rendition of it which drives out the grace and calmness of the traditional version. Sung to a compound beat of 6/8 instead of the simple 3/4 waltz tempo in an off-beat manner, one thinks it does no better than to do a re-mix instead. Then again, was it their choice, or was it so arranged by their producer or music director who felt that recording time was running out?

But to give them due credit and so-as-to redeem themselves, ‘O Holy Night’ was superb! 12/8 instead of the common 4/4 made the music flow and Carlos Marin’s baritone really anchored the fairy-like tenor voices of the rest. ‘White Christmas’ is also notable. Ever heard classically-trained voices doing a favourite light jazz piece? Well, I think great voices can carry just about any song. ‘Adeste Fideles’ is ‘O come all ye faithful,’ and one wonders why they don’t just sing an a cappella instead. Well, four voices with heavy vibratos could be one reason…I’m just guessing…

I did not set out to do a review of ‘The Christmas Collection’, so I’ll just end here for now. All in all, a third official album would be great!!

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

,

Nothing to write about and no particular picture to post…idealess, clueless, echoes of nothing reverberating in the brain. If this forms part of a sentence, it will just be the comma (,) of a long sentence where the end is still no where to be seen. So here it is, a little comma to my blog, a punctuation placed after 56 postings, a little crotchet rest in between series of notes, a little courtyard scribbled into a plan, a scratch on a tree bark after traveling some distance into the woods, and a few sentence to say something about nothing. It is like painting the wind, dancing on water and describing an undreamed dream. What does a comma do? It does much. But maybe not for the Dreamer. What a post! Haha!

Monday, September 04, 2006

6th Day














Temple of Heaven was to be the highlight of the day. As usual, there were different courts to pass through; Call them layers, transitional spaces, gateways, buffer zones, hierarchy of spaces, whatever,…they all mean more walking to do. Built in 1420 A.D during the Ming Dynasty, the temple ground covers a much wider area than the Forbidden City. And unlike the cold and monotonous royal palace, the courts here are vibrant with a rich hive of activity, ranging from various singing groups of individuals to a choir which we heard singing in really beautiful tones….at least the vibrato sounded more natural than today’s Chinese pop singers… There were groups, mainly of the elderly folk, doing various traditional Chinese exercises (I can’t tell one form of exercise from another…), people strolling along the pathways carrying birds in cages, couples playing some badminton-like sport and so on. One can hardly relate such routine activity to be taking place on a site once highly revered as imperial and sacred.
The Echo Wall was closed for restoration works. The Temple of Heaven however, was already refurbished to a state of majestic lustre. It was grand, very grand. And the blue which (I think) differentiates this architecture from the rest of the other Imperial places, was of a brilliantly darker hue which was very soothing to the eyes and blended well with its surroundings. It was to symbolise the colour of the sky, or heaven. The weather was also great, with a slightly overcast sky.

Finally, the Circular Altar, in the centre of three layered terraces of white marble. It was just a circular marble slab which was then the portal for conversations to heaven by the emperor himself. And I just couldn’t connect this whole idea/notion/concept of sacredness on that piece of slab. Who could? Throngs of people were taking turns to stand on it for their pictures to be taken…so much for preserving sites without any reverence for it.

On the concept of the temple, all things pertaining to heaven were round and all things earthly were a square as the ancient Chinese thought that heaven is round and earth is square. Duh!

Next stop was another garden. I can’t remember its name, who it belongs to or its significance. But it was another huge ground where all the expected things (from experience drawn so far…) can be found. Buildings were what one would expect them to be, and there were the staple ‘significant’ trees, stones and so on. Very typical…haha!

We then had lunch at a Moslem restaurant. So far in all 6 days, this must have been the worst toilet we’d yet to visit. It wasn’t dirty, unconventional or lacked the facilities…the smell was just too repulsive.

Shopping and more shopping for the last full day. Got a Nike shirt at a very reasonable price, Malaysian-wise, cheap! We ended up at a shopping complex to get fruits. And Lesley had to lead a gang of the younger ones (all above 20s) to buy Chinese instant noodles. I was looking for anything really foreign among the fruits…nothing much. Global-ism has done much to standardise things everywhere. There was however, a certain kind of grape which I’d not seen before. It somehow tasted raw, quite crunchy but nonetheless, not as sweet as I’d expected it to be though it looked rather huge when I (illegally, I think…) helped myself to one of it.

We had to take a bubble lift to the restaurant for our dinner, or ‘last supper’, as the group of teachers put it. It was a very grand hotel. The food was however…quite good. Haha!