Serendipity

Perseverance

2007-10-04T20:01:00.000+08:00

Perseverance – the utterly annoying persistence that is supposedly to bring reward towards the end.

As most would know, I am in Australia finishing my degree. Tiffany had been spending time with me here till September when she returned to Singapore. After she left, my live returned to the lonely wreck that it was, however, remnants of her presence were everywhere. For instance, during the weekends we would try to bake. Tiffany had purchased a snack oven; it was a steal at just AU$30, and we would try to bake, cookies, biscuits and the sort. On most occasions, the outcome often did not meet the desired results we had hoped for. Some suffered burn injuries, over 70% burns in some cases. In others, there was, some may argue, some form of erectile dysfunction, the cookies that were meant to be hard turned soft and collapsed. On one occasion, we experimented with crossbreeds, creating new hybrid cookies, a splice between a well-formed coconut cookie and a dysfunctional coffee cookie. The mutation gave varying results, some would turn out pretty with a nice palatable texture, while some had simply lost the basic characteristics of fundamentally being a cookie. I believe this would be what Darwin would refer to as the process of ‘Natural Selection’. But on the whole, the experience would more often than not yield acceptable and palatable results.

So what about perseverance am I to be yapping about? Apparently, a lot of the ingredients, like flour and sugar were still in abundance. Hence, keeping to our tradition I proceeded to bake, only this time, doing it alone. On the first occasion, I wanted to make bread. Yes, your eyes did not mirage, I said bread in a snack oven. So I looked up a recipe on the Internet, followed it strictly like how Tiffany would, shoved it in the oven and crossed my fingers. What came out was a lump of carbohydrates so chemically bounded that I had problem cutting it. The disaster was to the extent that if I were to drop it on the kitchen counter at a height of 30cm, the resulting ‘clank’ would be on the same tangent as dropping a saucepan at the same height. I was heartbroken, devastated and emotionally torn apart. I had hoped to for a favourable result, allowing me to rekindle the messy yet wonderful moments when Tiffany was here. I got quite depressed seriously, over this inability to bake something properly. A week went by and I did notice that this failure did somehow affect my performance at campus. I was lethargic and restless, as weird as it seems, it really did happen. I had to resolve this, it was nagging feeling I had to answer, much of like that itch you have between the crevasses of your rear posterior. (I am undoubtedly a master with euphemisms) And so I tried again, this time completely ignoring any recipe whatsoever. The results were very satisfying indeed. It had a nice thin crust, a sweet aroma of vanilla and a soft delectable pallet. Believe me, I really wish I could let you taste it.

This was not a victory over the oven, nor was it an accomplishment that I could bake. It was more than that; it was a moment of connection between man and wife three thousand miles away. It may seem trivial to many, but to me it was an assurance, an emotional rekindle, and a silent declaration of love.

This loaf of bread, I dedicate to my lovely wife, who despite her absence, guided me, helped me, tugged on me, whispered to me, gleamed with me and prided with me.

Epilogue

“I’m going to try to bake bread”
“Wa..abuse my flour ah”

-Spencer and Tiffany

Tormanguish - The Amazing Façade

2007-10-02T18:54:00.000+08:00

Tormanguish - ~n ;a state of suffering so great no dictionary can explain

Not too long ago, I played a key role in an epic saga between two warring entities. On one end, an MNCs, large robust, overwhelmingly powerful and armed with a multitude of weapons. And across the plains where that battle was to be fought was me, small, insignificantly miniscule, shattered and vulnerable. Thus, the stage was set for a clash that would shatter the realms of cyberspace.

All right, maybe I have over exaggerated the facts here. However, it was undoubtedly an inconceivable blend of torment, anger and anguish. Friends, I give “tormanguish”. Well the story sets us back in mid September, on a fairly normal day during a fairly normal week, when my lodging rent was soon to be due. To prevent defamation issues, we shall address the MNC, which is a bank, as douche. Now for some security reasons for which up till today I cannot comprehend, douchebank needed to change my credit card. A new card was sent to my Singapore address, and I was notified that I could still use my existing card for 30 days before it terminates automatically. So after a few calls to their service center, the new credit card was to be couriered to me in Australia. Reaching this agreement, I knew I still had 30 days on my existing card to pay for rent, and so I did. My card couldn’t go through, I was horrified. Credit was my only means of payment in large sums, and when the transaction was rejected, I, in all state of lay humanity, squeezed my balls in panic. I called douchebank later that day and was told that the card had to be blocked in preparation of my receipt of the new card. I was horridly unhappy. In an eager need for douchbank to justify their actions, I sent the following letter.

To: The Customer Service Manager,

Ref: Unacceptable Customer Service

I am writing with regards to my recent experiences with your bank for which I am utterly disappointed in. I have been a douchbank customer for well over two years and it is with great dismay that I write this complaint.

On the 14th of September this year, I had been informed by my father, Mr. Giam Ai Keat, about a change in my Douchbank Platinum Opaque Visa Card. On the same day, it was made know to you over a phone call with my father, that I am currently residing in Australia and would hence be unable to receive the card that has been sent to my Singapore address. Immediately, it was requested that my existing card be extended until December when I will return to Singapore. This request was promptly denied, a decision I find hard to comprehend when other banks I have had experiences with, graciously accommodated a request of similar nature. Hence, it was agreed that the new card be sent to my current residence in Australia. On the 15th of September, I received an acknowledgement call confirming my address and detailing that I should receive my new card within a week.

The very next day, I tried to make a regular payment with my current card but the transaction was repeatedly denied. It was only after a call to your customer service hotline that I realise that my card had been blocked. I am deeply shocked and cannot stress enough that such critical information should have been made known to me. I had not been informed, preceding the conversations on the 14th or the 15th of September, that my existing card would be blocked.

This act is truly unacceptable. Not only have you denied my initial request, but you have also made a conscious decision to block my card without any proactive consideration of my overseas situation. If your customer service officers had been a pinch more proactive, they would have notice from my transaction history over the past 8 months that I will always make payment of a similar amount every month and always within this period of time. This admittedly is payment for lodging rent. My urgency to receive the new card would have also indicated my reliance on this specific credit card to make regular payments. All of these had been conveniently ignored, your complacent actions have not only placed me in extreme inconvenience, an immense contradiction to the supposed convenience a credit card offers, but also in great embarrassment when my credit card was repeatedly rejected. Even in drafting this complaint, I am unable to use the appropriate channel for 'account related instructions' because my PIN has been denied, again without my knowledge and consent.

Unless I am provided with a substantiated response to why my card had been blocked without my knowledge or consent, I cannot find your actions acceptable or justifiable. I simply cannot understand why my existing card cannot be kept active up till the receipt of the new card. Aside from improving the “proactive-ness” of your service staff, I seek a prompt and valid explanation to why critical information such as the blocking of my card was not made known to me and also to why I am being denied access to my personal online account. I am honestly contemplating the termination of this account, if not for my being overseas and this unfortunate reliance on my only credit card here.

I await your prompt reply.

Sincerely,
Spencer Giam

And so I waited for a response, moments later Tiffany called with news of a new revelation. The saga has struck its crux, and in many an epic battle, the crux is where threads to commonsense disintegrates. I leave you to read the second letter, tormanguished, I released the fury of a hundred crying babies.

To: Chief Executive Officer, Douchebank Singapore Ltd
Customer Service Director, Douchebank Singapore Ltd

Ref: Unethical Business Practices

Dear so and so,

With furtherance to my previous complaint Ref: Unacceptable Customer Service, it is with great distress that I present more information over the matter. Ever since the beginning of this episode, I have been led to believe that my Douchebank Platinum Opaque Visa Card had been blocked in preparation for the delivery of my new card. Yet over the preceding six hours, it has come to my attention that I have been ridiculously misled and ill informed.

On the 16th of September, I made a call from Australia to the customer service hotline enquiring on the sudden termination of my visa card. Attended by an officer named Jessica, I was led to believe that my existing card had been blocked. When questioned to why such a matter was not brought to my attention, the response was that the previous officer might have had an oversight in the provision of such critical information. As mentioned, I have been scrambling on my toes, sourcing for alternative payment modes for my regular rent payment. Through numerous overseas calls back home to my family in Singapore, an alarming reality was brought to my attention.

My spouse too have made a call to your organisation enquiring over this issue, amazingly the response provided to her was that “I” had reported for a loss card and as such all transactions and access to my visa card account was frozen. I am sincerely overwhelmed by what your organisation has done. Not only did your staff report for a loss card on my behalf without my consent, I had been kept in the dark all this time. I am awfully intrigued by how your staff manages a customer’s requests. As modest as I can be, I cannot help but wonder that this “loss of card” was made for the convenience of your organisation and at my expense.

What ever happened to the code of ethics in your organisation. One of your shared values clearly states that, “We have a responsibility to OUR CLIENTS. We must put our clients first, provide superior advice, products and services, and always act with the highest level of integrity.” I truly doubt that omitting information to mislead a customer is in fact ‘acting with the highest level of integrity’. In your organisation’s code of conduct, you preach aspirations to be known as, “A company with the highest standards of ethical conduct—working to earn client trust, day in and day out.” After my experience today, I am inclined to believe otherwise. Can an organisation, with such ill standards of business ethics and corporate governance, be truly deserving of Euromoney’s Best Bank in Singapore Award. I have begun to lose considerable faith in Douchebank despite my years as a customer, and sincerely seek your clarification on this façade that has been presented before me.

Furthermore, aside from the lack of personal and business ethics, I must also comment on the degree of competency of your customer service officers. As mentioned, my spouse spoke with one of your officers, Jessica, over a phone call to your customer service hotline. Despite repeated requests for a justifiable course of action to remedy this issue, my spouse was explicitly reminded that “there is nothing we can do”. Yet the most definitive response was the clear and outright defiance to the recommendation of surfacing this matter to the Monetary Authority of Singapore. Your staff had challenged a customer, once again allow me to emphasize on the remarkable façade that has been presented before me.

It is noteworthy that within a short span of 24 hours, your organisation has managed to place unnecessary stress, burden and anxiety on my spouse and both my retired parents, not to speak about the added embarrassment and inconvenience I had to personally bear as a result of your organisation’s actions. All this skillfully orchestrated, while my family and I were unwittingly led to believe that this was all merely procedural. In light of all that has happened, how then should I justify the numerous and costly overseas calls I had to make to remedy my situation, how then should I justify the additional and unnecessary stress and anxiety I had to endure.

I look to your office for a prompt and substantiated response.

Sincerely,
Spencer Giam

It is amazing how an issue so small can cause uproar simply because of mismanagement. I did manage to pay my rent though but the issue was no longer about the money, but the actual adherence to the psychological contract made between buyer and seller. In every single ethics and management literature I’ve dwelled in, it has always been established that a customer has the right to make informed choices. But suppose it was just a mere matter of incorrect procedures, which it was, the consumer has the right to that information even should he chooses it at his own expense. Nevertheless, after a series of calls and apologies, this letter was delivered.

Dear Mr Giam

Please refer to our telephone conversations the last 2 days. Please accept our sincere apologies for the frustrations and inconvenience caused to you and your family members when our officer, Jessica Simpson, did not provide complete information when she replaced your douchebank card on 14 Sep 2007.

We have retrieved the conversation and acknowledged that the service provided was less than satisfactory. A stern warning has been given to Jessica and we will be monitoring her work more closely to ensure that she improves on her service delivery. Mr Giam, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to give us your feedback on our services. We appreciate your patience and understanding in this matter. Please be assured that Douchebank is committed to provide quality service to our customers and it is only through your valuable feedback that we are able to do so.

By way of apology, I will be sending a hamper for your family as well as $100 Crystal Jade dining vouchers to your mailing address at Tampines tomorrow (after 7pm). Should you need any assistance on your account, please contact my Customer Service Manager, Jessica Alba at xxxxxxx and I am available at xxxxxxx. We look forward to your continued support on our Douchebank credit cards.

Yours sincerely

Jessica Rabbit

Head Banking Services

Douchebank Singapore

I was never after the compensation, nor was I after an apology. It had to made clear to them that customers do not appreciate such transference of cost. That something was fundamentally wrong with the system, and some form of intervention had to be introduced. I was promised that such an incident would never happen again, but that too was probably a façade.

Its been a while now and I do think back that my ‘tormanguish’ might have blinded my rationality as a consumer. Giving them the benefit of doubt, the staff who made that unfortunate decision might have been consciously following normal procedures, it might not be totally her fault. Yet deep within, I ask myself, “What is the product I’m purchasing here” It's definitely not the card, it's a service, an intangible service for convenience. And should such a product fail in its delivery of its expected attributes, it is, under any pretext, a faulty product. So as we have seen, the moral here would be "If you're selling service, understand that the converse is not loss of sales but the generation of ‘tormanguish’.

Epilogue

“Mr Giam, if you can allow us a day to investigate…”
“Sure, no problem”
“Thank you Mr Giam. In the meantime, is there anything else we can do for you?”
“Try not to…enough damage has been done already”

Me & Customer Service Manager

A Union In Rhapsody

2007-10-01T15:15:00.000+08:00

Rhapsody – n freely structured emotional piece of music; expression of ecstatic enthusiasm.

Ten months ago, many a close friend and family witnessed the union of two, the completion of two lives and the majesty of partnership. Our union of lives that is our registration of marriage. Now, as I pen my emotions into this digital interface of ones and zeros, I feel vividly immersed in this rhapsodic spectrum of affection. Even as my fingers run rapids across my keyboard, I still feel excitement seeping out, rekindling the adrenaline and enthusiasm, passively I smile to myself.

How does one describe a moment of complete serenity, where even in a room filled with many different individuals, the consciousness continue to resonate in one singular frequency. I guess that is the magic that none can or have attempted to explain. Where a moment so simple, so innocently pure and fragile carpets all other emotions to take precedence. This moment I speak of is that instance of unison after the sharing of vows. It was, for a lack of a better word, simply magically.

Never have I felt such faith amidst vulnerability and confidence amongst ambiguity. Contradicting as it may sound, that was the moment as it was. As I held her hands and while our eyes connected our souls, the faith we held recognized the vulnerability we were in, while assurance was shared that ambiguity was what made the union possible. Some have said that they could literally feel the sincerity we had in our vows. I couldn’t agree more, for I was momentarily paralyzed by her lips. When simple words connate a different dimension of comprehension, where time pauses into a relentless abyss of purity, honesty and sincerity.

To those who were present, I thank you for sharing this special moment with us, for all the well wishes but most importantly for all the smiles you shared. Not forgetting both our mums and dads for their support and blessings. To those who were not, I’d like to share our joyous moment through the following montage.

Epilogue

"In token and pledge
Of our constant faith and abiding love
With this ring I marry you"

-Spencer & Tiffany

"As both of you have given your consent before me to live together in matrimony, and have solemnly promised each other to do so,

I now pronounce you Man and Wife"

- Mrs Tan

Serendipity Lives...

2007-10-01T05:25:00.000+08:00

Its been almost 10 months ....... not that I've been away on an adventure, freeing the homeless from the clutches of an evil demeanour. Nor have I been kidnapped, locked away in a desolate mirage, relentlessly seeking to claw my way out. Its just that I, a young adult of the twenty-first century, educated and trained in the proficiency of information technology had trouble retrieving this blog when they apparently made the switch some time back. Admittingly, I wasn't the most proactive in this quest to restore the blog, yet today, by shere chance, I got it right.... like i said. Serendipity lives.

Now that my voice is restored, I shall speak once again. So shall I sing once more. Here shall I once again seek the solace of an intangible audience. My consciousness warns me that it is to be quite alluring.

Epilogue

My wife resumes work tomorrow.

"i scared...you pray for me tomorrow ok?"

"Don't worry..i will"

- Spencer & Tiffany

The Nearing

2006-12-10T12:19:00.000+08:00

It has been quite a while since i've penned thoughts into this virtual landscape. Leaving Australia, i am back in home, reunited with my family and my wife (in 2 days).

I'm back at work and have been making preparations for the big day. I've been keeping thoughts within my mind, waiting for a chance to share them. Episodes with housing, work, insurance agents and more with doctors.

Now, i have a boiling pot of Bak Kut Teh on the stove while my lovely princess still snuggles in bed (its already 12.30 mind you).

Its an exciting time in life and I'm glad i can share, but in time...

Epilogue

"..when you put the ring for her, do it slowly, nicer pictures and more romantic.."

- Fairy's Inc Daimonds

Nostalgic Simplicities

2006-11-19T03:43:00.000+08:00

Nostalgia

Of trickeling raindrops and flickering lights

Of flith dusted roads and cool silent nights

Of family, friends and people held dear

Of gestures of love and old childhood fears

Of people you know and those you do not

Of the family coffeeshop by the old carpark lot

Of memories and feelings that stir from astart

Of all that's important Of all in my heart

It's good to be back. Had my last exams a few days ago and now I am home, for the next 3 months at least. Exams were pretty tough but I guess it shouldn't be too bad.

Nostalgia. Nice word eh. People often confuse the word as something that reminds you of the past, not absolutely correct though. Its more of a wanting to be back in the past rather than a reminder. The sense of nostalgia occurs not my externalities but by the preceptual need to relive certain experiences or emotions felt before. I like nostalgic experiences, they keep me close to what I hold dear.

But television and the movies always depict nostalgia in a different connotation. Man walks home one day and passes an old playground, screen goes white and we see a flashback of him in his toddler years smiling joyfully as he defies gravitiy on the old tyre swing. Then he falls and his mother rushes to soothe him. The screen goes white again and we're back where we were. Tears flood his eyes as he grips ever sp tightly on the will of his late mother.

Its not always so. We face it everyday, every moment in time. The very basis of human nature is built on preservation. Some of us keep pictures, some blog, some alter their living environments and some even scar themselves. Evident efforts of preservation, a want or a need rather than a memory. For me, I simply come home. Just being home, breathing the air (though not exceptionally clean) and listening to the sounds are more than everything nostalgic.

The late night symphony of the old murmurring table fan with bases from Dad's snoring grunts. The morning orchestra of Mum nagging for me to head for breakfast with her. The 'beep' from the old microwave, the creaks of my bedroom door and even the 5 odd flickers that my fluorescent lamp emits before actually going on fills me sweet memories of childhood and my teenage years. Maybe they also remind me of my late grandfather. He had tons of stories that I as a child had listened so attentively to. They should make a good tale to tell here, but perhaps another time.

Epilogue

"If you can look back in your life with contentment, you have one of man's most precious gifts - a selective memory"

-Jim Fiebig

Thank You

2006-10-30T20:47:00.000+08:00

The power of hope and faith can be quite surreal, but no one should attempt to question how and why. Its a pandora's box, amazingly simple yet intricately and comfortingly linked to the human spirit.

The hospital has discharged Dad from the hospital and he is well now. They made a decision to halt the Asprin momentarily to ease the profuse bleeding. It worked but not without side effects. But I guess that doesn't matter anymore, because now he watches the 7pm news at home.

I am deeply touched by the concerns you have shown to me during this arduous time. Even residing some 3 thousand miles away, I feel the strength of combined prayers. It feels unjustified that I can only recite a Thank You. Your messages, posts, replys and pats will forever dwell deep in my need for reciprocation.

And you, my sunshine and my love. In these words, I can only merely scrape the surface of the amount of appreciation I have. Just knowing that you are back home, taking care of them and loving them as your own, is to me, the most assuring display of faith, trust, compassion and love.

I am confident about my decision. I never doubt the fact that it is you I want to spend my life with.

Epilogue

"Am i your princess?"
"Yes you are"
"Ok then say goodnight my little princess"
"Goodnight little princess"
"Goodnight toad..."

-Tiffany & Spencer

Doctors II

2006-10-25T21:46:00.000+08:00

Evil Doctors - Cause and Effect

Buddhist teachings embedded in me teaches me on the laws of Karma, that when there is a cause, there is an effect. A spiritual obligation or debt that one must pay or recieve for the actions in his life. My beliefs threads deep and this faith in the supernatural often fuels more injustice in my family's saga with the medical profession.

As I write this, Dad lies weak, his strength drained from the intense pressures one feels after an operation. You did not hear me wrong, I said an operation. This was the inevitable I was decribing, this was the repercussions that I was predicting. You would remember in an ealier post that complications had occured, that Dad's current cardiac conditions forbids surgery. The cyst on his skin is actually a lipoma, a type of benign tumor, not cancerous because it doesn't invade neighbouring tissues, but often grow to great sizes superficially. Under the skin, blood vessels twine around the growth, feeding it. Yesterday, it raptured. The initial wound was not that deep, but still he bled profusely. They warded him and adviced that in order to prevent the lipoma from contaminating and ultimately poisoning the blood, it had to be removed. Surgery was inevitable.

As mentioned, Dad is on a medication call Asprin, used primarily to thin the blood, so that the 'stents' in his arteries do not collapse. Something that needs to be taken for life, if halted, he runs the risk of cardiac arrest. Needless to say, they proceeded, removing the lipoma, widening the wound. It has been 24 hours after the operation, and still the bleeding persist. Dad is weak, pale from vomitting, frail from blood loss. All from an operation classified as minor.

I must admit that I am filled with rage, but yet I try to understand that doctors made difficult decisions. Deciding on the patient's best interest, although sometimes I really wonder. I want someone to blame, I want someone to hurt for all the pain Dad needs to endure. I search endlessly through my mind for names and positions, but there are too many. And the government says there isn't enough, 1:700 ratio, thats almost 6500 of them, not enough?

I try to trace incidents and I end up with another resulting incident. The profuse bleeding caused by the blunder in the cardiac administration. The cardiac status, left undetected and only surfaced when they realised he hadn't cleared examination prior to transplant. Even the diagnosis of renal failure some 10 years ago was incompetant. Just last year, 8 years into dialysis, one kidney suffered internal bleedings. They operated to plug the wound and remarked, "Why put him on dialysis, his kidneys are still 30% functioning" It was a local anaesthetic surgery so Dad heard every word, his heart sank, my rage only grew.

Can I justify that life is 'like that', that things 'happen', that its never fair. No! Absolutely not. Not when there are blundering baffoons amidst the equation. Cause and effect, my faith demands that justice be served, yet in my innermost conscious, I want to serve it myself. Friends tell me they are just doing their jobs, agreed. The job of making a complete mockery of the sanctity of life. I work to put food on the table, to support the lives of my family and I believe many do so for the same reasons. These 'heroes' work in factors where mistakes and incompetancy cause suffering to others, and I often wonder if the very same bowl of rice we bring home ever taste the same.

And me, I can only do what a son must do. To give Dad the mental will and strength to push on. To give him a reason to stay alive. To tell him that he 'MUST' watch me graduate. To tell him that he 'MUST' carry his grandchild. To keep my body healthy so as I may be an immediate donor in an emergency. (why not now? them...again) These are those that are important now, my actions limited by the laws that protect them, my voice restricted to this channel of expression.

Tiffany just called, an ambulance is arriving soon to send Dad to CGH. The bleeding has not stopped. Even until now...

Pray with me my friends,
It is all I can do being so far away.

Epilogue

"dunno if daddy will live to see you graduate"
"i said before, you talk like that again and i'm not talking to you anymore"
- dad & me

Complete...

2006-10-23T23:31:00.000+08:00

Tiffany – My Love, My Treasure, My Everything

“Organisationally I love you through my behaviour coz politically you are my hubby but perpetually not accepted coz yet to legally be married"

11th Aug 2006 15:50:41

This post is just as how you would have predicted from the title, an ultimate declaration of love. Why so? Because she’s worth every ounce of it. We met, of all places, in a pub. Yes, the brutality of the truth, a pub my friends, that was the beginnings of this love story. Not your usual romance spot like a library or park or ice-cream stand, but a loud, eardrum-mutilating, smoke-infested, alcohol-smelling pub.

Yet under all these distractions, she appealed to me. The feeling probably wasn’t reciprocated yet, I mean, look at me. She was a friend’s friend, and it was another friend’s friend birthday bash. Kinda like a Friendster in reality, you don’t know anyone but somehow, through the web of friends, you’re amazingly connected to everyone.

So we talked, joked and drank a little. We shared a cab back to the east and talk even more. I was drawn to her simplicity, how she giggled at everything, how she sneered at bad drivers, how her eyes stay so intrigued during our conversations. She was different, special and unique in her own ways. And yes, she made my heart tremble. It was pounding, beat for beat as it screamed to me, “Don’t you dare screw this up!” After dropping her off at her place, I carried on the journey home. I enjoy the company of honest cabbies, they really make your day sometimes.

Cabbie: Good to see youngsters still send their girlfriends home

Me: No uncle, she’s not my girlfriend

Cabbie: Ah? Then what you waiting for?

Me: Huh, no la…

Cabbie: Boy…you like her?

Me: Sort of, but we just met.

Cabbie: But I can sense she likes you

Me: How? (this dude reads minds?)

Cabbie: Can la, uncle more experienced than you.

Me: Really?

Cabbie: If you like, don’t scared, ask her out, uncle guarantee she’ll go out with you

Me: Ha… ok I’ll ask her for a movie someday

Cabbie: No no no… movie cannot, go to the beach, rent bicycle then go cycling together, ah..like that

Me: Ok I’ll keep that in mind…(I was sniggering under my breath)

No one knows about this conversation I had with the cabbie, not even Tiffany. Oh well, this is a declaration. As I left the cab, the million-dollar question struck. “Is she attached?” I pondered over that as I took my shower, then it occurred to me, I knew her name, her block and that was it. I had no numbers, no email, nothing. Hopes were grinded into dust, I collapsed onto my bed, practically pinching myself for making a complete blunder of this. I sighed, lit a cigarette and puffed myself to sleep.

My mobile wailed the next morning; it was a thank you message from her. I felt stupefied, my eyes in absolute awe. Didn’t bother questioning how she got it, the fact was she did and now I have hers. The blessing was evident. We went out, talked, shared drinks and opinions, debated and laughed. She presents a strong, street-smart image and amidst that, centralises a certain naive ness that makes every conversation so alluring. I’ve never been a really good talker, with her I never need to. She guides the conversation, prompting me to speak and hushing when she needs silence. Yet throughout our meetings, she respects my views, my time and my being.

We went for a holiday together, thereafter, we never looked back. Like a meadow blossoming beneath the springtime sunshine, our relationship strengthened, bit-by-bit it grew, in trust, in faith, in serenity. Attraction became passion and passion became love. Now, for lack of a better word, I believe what we have has evolved into a certain infatuation. Almost addictive, hardly paranoid, but simply seductive. She has taken a place in my heart, secured it and made it her own. Even being far away, I feel her presence close within me. My light in times of darkness, my hope in times of despair. Openly embracing me, accepting my flaws, appreciating my gestures, unifying our souls. Laying honesty and support for the creation of affection and the foundations of a future.

Describe it in a word? Complete. Definitely complete.

Darling

Oh when you look at me, you’re eyes are all that I see
And when you smile to me, it brings me down to my knees
Your touch your sweet caress, are all I dream to hold
And when you’re by my side, I’ll never feel the cold

Darling, hold my hand and let our feelings unfold
Nothing will come between this love,
That we call our own

Now that you wear my ring, its happiness that you bring
Walking down the aisle, an unbelievable thing
To whisper in your ears, the words I’d say to you
The words just meant for you, the words that say I do

Darling, hold my hand and let our feelings unfold
Nothing will come between this love,
That we call our own

Epilogue

Through blood and tears, it’s all worthwhile
Just to see, my angel smile
-me

Doctors

2006-10-22T13:34:00.000+08:00

Preface

I've never imagined who my audience would be nor do I intend to ever. I use words in retrospect of feelings, misguided as they may be, they in turn control my emotions. I stand firm on my grounds, not as a writer but as a victim.

Of Knowing

Know yourself and know your enemy
A thousand battles a thousand victories
But there comes a battle where we know none at all
So do we hope fear or worry

But man has produced many wonderous leaps
In medicine, science and technology
A victory assured, I beg to differ
For man is still the enemy

Evil Doctors? - The Rhetoric or The Real

I was browsing through sites last night when i came across a couple of news article.

Doctor Jailed for Secret Lewde Pictures - 5th April 2006
GP forged voucher to claim pay for NS in-camp stint - 11th April 2006

Ironically it didn't strike me, I had lost faith in their profession of supposed healing, I don't trust them anymore. I cannot, under all possible energies, see morality in what they do. The date was in September 2006, I had barely returned home with my fiancée when I saw Dad laying restless on the couch. He looked weak, he just had an argument, I could only guess. Dad like many in the country, suffers from Renal Failure. Often on days of dialysis, he would appear weak, but that day was indistinctively different. He wouldn't speak, I could see sadness in his eyes, his heart heavy, his mind unbehaving of his analytical spirit.

I approached Mum. Dad has what I call the 'Big 4', he visits 4 departments of specialisation, Urology for the renal failure, Respiratory for the pneumonia, Dermatology for the cyst and Cardiology for the heart. Quite a mouthful, but each specialisation focused on a narrow perspective on the area of healing, one would ask how could anything go wrong under such conditions. They did.

Everything started with renal failure, the toxins in the blood led to growths on the skin, the dermatologist was called in. The body's weaken state further subjected to respiratory illnesses. Heart problems appeared only after a transplant opportunity, where they realised that an operation was needed, ballooning they so called it.

The operation was a success, the 'stents' were in place, opening the collapsed blood vessels, the pneumonia was suppressed. Dad was then handed back to Urology and Dermatology, and then all hell broke loose. Ever heard of the saying, 'Birds of a feather flock together', apparently in the professional medical field, 'Birds of a feather, swoop away from each other'. 4 departments, 4 specialisations, 1 patient, 1 building, 1 institute, 1 victim - Dad. They didn't talk to each other; guess it wasn't in their profession to do so at all.

In order to prevent the 'stents' in the vessels from collapsing, a medication had to be administered to thin the blood, this is vital as thinned blood flows rapidly and thus is more difficult to clot. Under such conditions, Dad could no longer be operated on. Dermatology stalled mid air, and the institute dropped him off the transplant list.

I speak of the trust we have in these professionals, if we, simplistic citizens untrained in the art of medicine, see these white coats as our Samaritans, why then do tragedies occur. A random incident? Look at the article headings, 2 incidents in 1 month, not my perception of incidental.

If I were to put Dad's incident in more simpistic terms, it'd be like seeing a doctor for a cough, he does his examination and finds out you have a flu, miraculously cures your flu but you cough for the rest of your life. 10 years, Dad had been undergoing dialysis for 10 years, everyone, especially me blissfully awaiting the day the phone would ring, for he refuses to accept my organs. (Another story)

I did a search on evil doctors and came across a post by DrOzBloke,

I say to her, it is not always about money, doctors can earn millions and it is justified. Why people compare is because we are all dormant victims of the society's meritocracy. That sheet of compressed timber and fibers, lines in gold with carbonised letterings justifies the differing pay scale. What cannot be justified is the melodramatic abuse of Samaritan trust.

There are those who are different, shouldering qualities of a professional knowledged doctor imbued with the Samaritan qualities of a head nurse. But few.

As i speak, the institute scrambles in response to Mum's cyclonic black and white to the institute and its Ministry. They repeatedly fix appointments to discuss issues.

To cry over spilled milk? Evidently...

Epilogue

I need not guess, you'll know when I'm right
When the wrong show signs of unsleepable nights
-me

12.12.06

2006-10-21T16:37:00.000+08:00

I guess i ought to explain what the numbers mean, 12.12.06, 12th of december 2006. I'm getting married on that day. Yes, its true and there she is, my angel. Friends have asked, 'are you sure?' and 'aren't you scared?' To say i'm not scared would be a blatant lie, the truth is I am but having faith is something so strong that many fail to acknowledge. I've done enough stupid, illogical and regretful stuff, and it came upon me one day. 'Its time'

(it wasn't easy)

But she was committed as her eyes were sweet. She wasn't the feminine image of myself but the masculine I never had. A certain completeness, complimenting, like cheese and biscuits, champagne and caviar, bees and honey, houseflies and rubbish. (you get the idea)

Know how some people say,

"The person I marry is not who i can live with but who i can't live without" ("utter bullocks")

Seriously, where did this come from. 'Dummies Guide to Crooning Women' ?? Ya, it all sounds nice and sweet and all that, but how true is it? More conservative cultures still have arranged marriages, and i'm not talking only about the Chinese and Indians, in these cases people marry first fall in love later.

Alright, my point is it simply doesn't exist. Marriage is a sacred union of two souls, tied together under oath and holy matrimony. The sad bit is that today, marriages are overly commercialised. I know of some who plan their wedding dinners as a business opportunity. Others for a house, some for the government incentives, and the best i've known, to stay out from army at nights. I mean...the abuse...its mindboggling.

And me? I just felt it was time. It did come quite suddenly, but not without reason. How do i explain this. You know the feeling that you have with that friend that you're always hanging out with, the one whom you wish you hadn't made some wrong turn back then and ended up in the 'friendzone'. Ok register that feeling, now erase the 'friendzone' and amplify that a little. That's what i have with her. Love based on the foundations of compassion and friendship. (kinda fairytale, i know...)

Yes, finding the right one is not easy, characters must match and all that. But stop...ponder with me, ask yourself, "who is the right one?" "is there an example or a reference?"

There probably is, and that person is or was the one who gave you the feeling i'm having. Somehow it went sour and things just didn't work out right? We always say that things don't work out, but it only happens because we as an individual allowed it to manifest. I was once like that, but when she entered my life, I did what needed to be done, making it work. The 'right one' is who we make him/her to be, it is a name not a person, a position to be filled, a void only left empty because you choose to let it be. Never was it a 'someone' or a 'who', it has always been a 'when?'

Tiffany

the windows to her heart, like diamonds in the dark
a whisper in her ear, the words she needs to hear

like winds of paradise, she came into my life
a whisper in her ear, my love

right before my eyes, she came into my life,
she's the one for me,
my tiffany my baby

and i will never lie, with her i'll never cry
she's the one for me
my tiffany my baby
my love

if i could turn back time, i'd still will make you mine
a whisper in her ear, just to have her near

when you held my hand, no words could comprehend
a whisper in her ear, my love

right before my eyes, she came into my life,
she's the one for me,
my tiffany my baby

and i will never lie, with her i'll never cry
she's the one for me
my tiffany my baby
my love

Epilogue

The history of free men is never written by chance but by choice, their choice.
When your today becomes your yesterday,
you will look back and realise that it was a result of your choice..

-Dad

Frogs

2006-10-21T10:47:00.000+08:00

Frogs in a Well

We huddle together and stare up above.
The white and the blue gleaming down.
We look all around us and darkness we see,
Total tranquility astound.

"Are we ready?" I ask, "or wait one more day?"
They turn and undoubtfully frown
Poised and ready, we climb to the top,

From the corner the snakes make no sound.

We've all heard of the frog in the well story, of how a little frog lives happily in his well, protected and fed, far away from the dangers out above. The moral being that this frog is too narrow minded, missing out on the opportunities above. In a certain way, this fable does make sense. We must embrace opportunities and not be simply satisfied by what we have around us. However, i like to bring a different connotation to this analogy. That we are beginning to take the protection of the well for granted. In an overly-zealous mind to take over the world, we start crumbling back into the well. Its a sad situation, and it is happening.

I was having coffee alone just 2 days ago, black with sugar, no milk. I was doing mindmaps for a module, sipping coffee and smoking. Then this group of young-ish boys came and occupied the table next to me. Ordered their drinks and began talking, needless to say, i was listening. They were talking about the future, starting a business, making it big, earning figures in tens of thousands. I was impressed, made my $2300 a month look like ear-wax. Then the conversation got interesting, a debate started.

A : That's why i hang out with people with brains

B : Innovation, thats how to make money

C : So how long do you intend to work before starting this?

A : Work, you mean be a salaried worker?

B : Ya, get experience, 5, 6 may 10 years?

A : (aggitated) I am not going to be tied down by a job that requires me to wake at 8 and end at 5

B : Friend, you think doing your own business allows you to start at 11 and finish at 3, then bum around for the rest of the day

A : Yes, you know what i want to be doing at 9 in the morning, i want to be at a golf course, and at 5 i want to be having a massage before dinner in my boat. Not trying to be rude, look at our parents, 40, 50+ and still working, i want to freaking enjoy my life then.

B : Then your kids? Eat grass?

A : I will not just sit back and let my kids enjoy my wealth, i will give them the necessities, one car, one house, some money thats it.

(big dreams huh? here's where it simply crashes)

B : So can work?

A : Can. Take about 1oo, 200 grand from our parents should be ok. You sure your connections good?

B : Ey, my mother knows everyone, she can pull us in and get all the admin stuff

A : Ok! Big risk. Big money.

Risk? Where's the risk in this? I love the part when he said "I will not just sit back and let my kids enjoy my wealth". Best part is that it's going to be an accountancy firm, classic example of ignorance. And this is just one of the many examples i've seen of today's youth. Blinded by wonderful aspirations built upon achievements of predecessors, their parents. Now, hard work and long hours don't mean a successful life. The fundemental perception of success is distorted, Maslow's heirarchy of needs continues to be bombarded by arguements. New world theorist write literature that Generation Y, 20-30 yr olds, are motivated by achievment rather than physiologicals. Young graduates enter the workforce jobless because employers cannot meet the demanded salary. Why???

Because the well has served it's purpose too well. The well had been constructed through hard work, sweat and blood. Layer upon layer of brick and cement, ultimately creating the foundations of a sanctuary. Here we are bred, nurtured and energised to one day leap out of the well and build one for our own. Blinded by the assumptions formed from the fortified nature of upbringing, we face the snakes, only to come running back to where we know is safe, our well.

I use we very openly, and I believe to a certain extent that the upcoming generations are being overly protected. I always ask, "what if there was nothing, would you still dream the way you do?"

Blinded

To see Fire as fuel and not something that burns
To see Water as a drink and not something that drowns
To see Lightning as beauty and not something that kills

To see Life as yours, when it is actually given

Epilogue

Take two steps forward then one step back,
Two for ambition and one for its fact
-me

The Mirror of my Past

2006-10-21T08:26:00.000+08:00

The Mirror that Shows the Past - part 1

"Why does this always happen to me?"
"Was it something i said, saw or decree?"
These words only too familiar to me,
The life of a shattered, destroyed endlessly.

But cry as I may, nothing changed nothing did.
Everyday would pass like a non-growing seed.
Hoping and yearning for something to change,
Crying and praying to be back in the game.

But no one answered my screams in the night,
In fact no one dared or cared given might.
Willfully degraded, insulted and used,
I pondered this journey, still scared and confused.

This little insignificant speck of energy i call my life has turned out really quite unexpectedly well. But it is not without humps and bumps, turns and corners, straights and dead-ends, all but mellow intricacies of what we so bluntly define as life. I wouldn't say i know alot, but i know far more than people my age. But i wasn't always so. Life is a journey and mine was a hot-air balloon with a jet engine. Circumstances allowed me to grow up pretty quick, my dad's health conditions played a great role in this. But the crazy bit started only during the last 6 to 7 years. Ever blew a balloon and released it in a room, letting it run loose. That was me, loose..., untamed, Jack Russelly and stupid.

Everything practically stalled and plunged abyss-wards. Friends became acquaintances, acquaintances became passer-bys, and passer-bys became farts in an elevator (you know they're there, but you can't see them and don't know where they're from). Evidently, as you can see, it was a mess, like how some misguided skin colours enjoy their whipped potato all stirred up with chille sauce, tomato sauce and a squirt of tartar-a big disgusting mess.

Things only changed when i went away, persuing my undergraduate in a country far away. Here you see many like me, and the irony of looking at yourself seems to question reality. I was afriad of myself, i shunned and looked at everything from a distance away. That which lay before me revealed itself.

The Mirror that Shows the Past - part 2

Do my eyes decieve me, is it that which i see,
Fear admist pride?
Yet confused is he.

The guy by the side, he's lying to her,
Why does she smile?
What a blind little girl.

A group having coffee, talking loud about dreams.
Of cars and boats.
Spoilers and rims?

The world around me, did it suddenly stop,
Did some great wizard
Just turned back the clock.

Or have i gone crazy, mentally insane,
I count my 10 fingers,
And my toes have a name.

I need to lie down, something weird is astir,
My toes speak to me,
My vision gone blur.

I wake in the morning, the dream fades at last,
"Its just like a mirror,
A mirror of my past."

Epilogue

Its not my quest to take what is mine,
Nor is it my destiny to understand why

-me

Serendipity

2006-10-20T23:06:00.001+08:00

And so it Begins...

The essence of singularity, a divine and mystic force that is the creator of many great things. Galileo only began discovering planets when struck by isolation, monks regard solitude as a means of spiritual enlightenment, even the very universe we inhabit was created by one singular atomic explosion. That is the power of singularity, of being alone, of facing solitude, of appreciating the silence. It changes things, the way we view the world, the way we view others, the way our inner voice speaks louder than anyone else. It came to me, this accidental gift, this is serendipity, my serendipity.