Maggie Mee Generation
(Disclaimer: This entry is solely based on the imagination, thoughts and reflection of the writer. It bears no relations, or is nor an advertisement campaign by Maggie Mee, or any 2-minute Instant Noodle Claims, or any of the affiliates of the Bouncy Noodles.)

You must be wondering if this is another of my food review of secret recipe to a perfect instant noodles. Or some Mun's-best-remembered-for blog entry. Nah, not tonight.

Maggie-Mee best describes Singapore's youths of today. It is not only because instant noodles are the only thing most of us can cook, but we (the term 'we' refers to 'youths' in this entry) are also a generation of Singaporeans who live in this instant world of great convenience. Technology has advanced and enabled us to move so much faster, thus self-gratification must be instant, anything that needs us to wait for more than 5 minutes, is too long a wait.

We live in a culture where things move so fast, and it gets faster. A good example would be, say, our internet connection. I have a 14.4K modem sitting in my house (Yes it came from Jurassic Park). I have surfed the Internet with that some years back. It got faster, and I upgraded to a 56K modem. The need for instantaneous reaction andd responses while I surf and do my assignments, justifies why I log on with a 512K Internet access. Nah, its just that many of us cannot wait for our webpages to load. Why!? Are you working with Singapore Stocks Exchange!! Or Wall Street?!

And justify it with saying that a 56K connection makes us spend more time straining our eyes on the computer, the 56K connection is too slow, and my time is very precious, alot of assignments, and then 'I need to go down town you know?!' speech by youths emphasizing their importance and busy schedule.

When we send an SMS, it must reach the other party in 5 minutes. Anything more, 2 phone calls would be made. One to the recepient of the SMS relaying our message. The other to the Servicer Provider yelling at them about service quality and poor, incapable provision of such, and of course, not forgetting to end the call with '..and I am a paying customer, you know?! And I expect to get what I deserve!!'

Not like this isn't bad enough. Our expectations of such instantaneous service brings out the monster in us. If we checked-out at the counter quick and neat, do we smile or thank? When we get what we want, how often do we behave like our dollar paid for it includes the appreciation service people deserve? Well, soon price tags would have it printed on it, 'Prices incl. GST & Customer's Appreciation'.

We don't seem to be able to wait and appreciate. If our MRT doors doesn't close within 25 seconds, we figid in our seats, or check our watches. When it does, it would never occur to us that it is someone's work causing it to move.

And I am guilty of these too.

If we are thinking of becoming a gracious society, I think we have to start with eradication instant noodles from our diet. The need to realise that nothing much comes easy, instant and always to our preferred flavor.

Trust me, if you turn on your tap later, and water doesn't flow immediately, you'd twist it more.

la beauté est seulement peau profondément

Beauty is only Skin deep

Hi Friends,

I'm sorry for the sudden disappearence from my blog. Its the exams' fever.

Exams? What exams? Oh well, I'm giving tuition, and the kids are having exams? So I have about 2 classes daily, one in the morning, and the other in the noon, or night.

It has been a long few days. I mean I have complete faith in the students. Its just the system.

I've always felt that studying was beyond grades. How can one be merely valued by the number of A's or B's one gets? It doesn't make sense. Yet kids today are so battered and brainwashed into believe that their grades makes what they are. I can't help but weep for them.

Studying is, too, about the interaction, the social skills one inculcates. Its about developing your 'theology' of life, its about creating and strengthening your values too. These are way more important than the A's and B's you get.

Its a balance. Its in our hands.

Well, my stress and exams are over now. The ultimate test is the teach. Brings one to a totally different world, seeing different things.

I would be more active here again. Sorry to have made the wait too long.

Regards,
Mun

Chinese Lessons, Pt 2

Yet, Chinese teachers are also the ones that made and impacted my life positively too. I bite my words that heritage cannot be seen through my Chinese teachers. Somehow they displayed patience better than a fisherman. (No, I am not going into some Chinese saying here)

The fond memories of touching moments with my Chinese teachers sticks right in my head. Let me bring you down memory lane now... (my moment of nostalgia)

Primary School, which wasn't too long ago....
I was so bad in my Chinese by the time I reached Primary 6, my teacher actually arranged for me to see her first thing in the morning to read pages from the Chinese Textbook to her aloud. It was a bitter-sweet thing. I enjoyed it when I had prepared the night before, the sense of achievement was like self-actualization. I felt embarrassed and a waste of my teacher's time when I didn't prepare the night before, and messed up the session. I never remembered once she scolded me for messing up, however bad it could get. I must say, her patience was good.

I've always knew my teachers practiced reversed psychology. They just pretended to be silly and easily bullied.

I've always admired my Chinese teachers' patience with me throughout the years of my Chinese school days. I never saw it this way until I graduated. By then, its too late to make up for the damage already done.

Its been some years since I have stopped doing Mandarin as a compulsary subject. I've been to China twice too.

I enjoy reading Amy Tan's novels. It depicts one growing up American, yet uses the imaginery of 'Chinese eyes' to view certain things. An interesting and refeshing novels that makes you think about perspective.

Its only not being coerced into doing Mandarin by the system, that I truly take it upon my personal interest to find out more about my culture, learn the language, and try to speak it fluently. Its not too little, too late yet. Somehow when we are older, and the interest sets in, the power to purser somehow becomes greater.

As I run to find and, once again, discover my culture and roots, I remember this Chinese saying that goes, ˆù�…ŽvŒ¹, where one must never forget where the source of his river sprang forth from...

Chinese Lessons, Pt 1

I have always struggled with my Mandarin. Its half-baked, half-done, half past six. 10 years of free education, yet I couldn't master the language, or even secure a pass (without the need of grace shown my the examiner).

I was never convinced that I should study the language. Why not something else? I've constantly asked many people in the education industry why must we do our mother tongue. A common reply was, to understand our heritage better.

I cannot agree with that. I mean by looking at our culture through the language used by it; more often than not, our culture is defended by the language. You would always have something good to say about your culture because it is its language speaking for it. The voice of your culture is in its language. Think about it, has your Chinese (Malay and Tamil, inclusive) textbook ever spoken bad about certain stuff in the culture? No. One who masters the language is usually so ingrained in the culture that his/her ownself is lost in it.

If you want to truly understand one's culture, its looking at it beyond how the people living it. Its looking at it from a different, unbiased point of view and appreciating, criticising and understanding it.

But its not that bad.

I have very fond memories, as well as not so fond ones of my Chinese lessons in school. I remember Chinese teachers to be the meanest people on earth, or so I felt.

When I was in lower primary, Chinese teachers instilled such a revered fear for them that I would never try talking in Chinese period. In all my intense look, try to look like I was actually paying attention. It was scary. I remember the teacher would scream on the top of her sharp voice across the classroom when someone wasn't listen, was talking, or doing something she felt wasn't morally right. (Those days belies the memories of the civics and moral lessons in our Mother Tongue.)

Of course, my Chinese deteriorated as my fears got the better of me, and I never really had a chance to speak up and express in Mandarin in complete terror of being eaten up by my teachers, laughed at by my friends (remember, I'm shy?), or just wet my pants as I attempt something I knew I wouldn't make it to the finishing line. I was like that till the end.

My insecurities were great, my guts weren't.

Sentimental Fool

I just got a new phone. (ok, gawk! cry foul! complain its the how-many'th, how-many'th!) In the process of getting the new, I traded in the old. I gave in my old phone, gave them my money; left with a new phone, and of course, no money.

Oh well, you must be wondering what is the big deal and woo-ha about my new phone? Nah, nothing actually. What was actually given my focus on, was my old cell phone.

It was a sad moment having to place it on the counter top, stripped of its casing, and removed of its batteries. I mean this phone has seen my glorious days of sending 1500 sms in one month, living thro drops from 1.6m high, after smashing against the fridge. It has scared enough of my lecturers as I can drop my phone while chatting with them, disintergrates, and I'd fix it up again. Yes, it still works.

I felt a sense of loss, with it being masqueraded by my overwhelming joy of the new phone.

That phone was my first Nokia. A simple phone that I've never much praised or mentioned other than it being very hardy, surviving the abuse I place it under. That was the very phone I yakked over for hours, smsed like crazy and dropped in the most public places, hearing people's shocked expressions.

That was the phone that I would never leave home without.

I was sad that I had to leave it on the table. No, its not a top range, high-end Nokia phone. No, I didn't actually have to pay a single cent for it. But it when thro my darkest days, my worst lamentations. Of course with those days, there were the better ones too. It had stayed up with me while I worked on the hardest assignment. Woke me up when I had exams to sit for, or classes to attend.

I now can only sit down, look back and remember the days I spent with my old phone. How badly abused it was, yet it still faithfully remain committed to his task of ensuring that I was reachable to the rest of the world.

The funny thing while thinking through all these is that my phone isn't even living. It doesn't have a soul, a mind, or a heart. Yet it can be remembered with such fondness and spoken about too. Isn't it true that some of us actually value the things we possess more than the people we actually relate with?

Oh well, for me, the sentimetal value of that phone was greater than what was offset from the new phone's invoice. Deep within me, I would proudly continue telling the world how bravely my phone stood to its task, remaining faithful to the very end, when it was traded in for something else.

Missing in Action

I noticed a lapse in my blog's entries for a few days after the 'I'm Shy' entry. No choice, I was spending more time replying and responding to the range of reactions and uproar that came with it. Reactions ranged from the admittance of not knowing me well enough, and others sounding like I called myself a saint. Outrage or guilt, I had them all.

Friends, as I blog in some of my deepest thoughts and revelations of myself, I make myself vulnerable as you see another side that I don't usually speak of, or even reveal. Its like coming to you, and laying aside my defenses, or putting down my guards, and sharing with you. When unprotected, I am, as vulnerable and fragile; coming to you in good faith, with hopes such would be reciprocated.

I spent some time away from blogging. I wasn't upset or emotional by the responses. (Glad that people actually read my stuff..keke) But it was essential to take time to think about how much I could actually strip here, and allow the many to read, and comment, objectively or otherwise.

And I have decided.

On a brighter note, there was this one person who told me that she agreed. She is one lady (the name, is in my heart, curious? Ask me..) that means a world to me. My one confidante. I must say, was very touched when I didn't get her shocked face, instead a calm look that said, 'yah true..'

Anyway, thanks for the comments I recieved for the last entry. Whatever you said matters, airy or not, it holds weight and reminds me constantly where our friendship stands, and how I may work to forge a better friendship.

For a better friendship, Cheers mate!

I'm Shy.

Ok, (stop laughing) and I get alot of my mates saying, 'Yeah, right!', and they continue laughing. Then they would go, 'You?! Shy?' and the laughter continues, louder this time.

But I am really shy. Yes, I may have been what I was in secondary school, loud, vocal, never hesitate to talk, outspoken. It is true that I would have something to say, and you would never fail to hear from me if these are issues about youths, local/international life defining politics and youth policies. These are things that I am passionate for and I won't hesitate to talk to a stranger about it.

I did speeches in secondary school, met the who's who locally (the likes like the DPM, MPs, Supt. of Schools and the list goes on). I suppose it was role conformity. I had to do it. Who else?! Perhaps I got used to it, and less shy about this as time passed.

I can't small talk. For one person who meets many people, I can't small talk about about the weather, what's good in the movies, how who and who was dressing the other day. Small talk to many of us (*winks at Fiz*) is idle-talk. It takes its toll on us.

I hate small talk. Its one thing that I am a totall goner at. Somehow I become very conscious that it remains small, (means) that I cannot bring the other party into something more intense, some ideology. Something which I have a burning desire at the tip of my tongue, waiting to be shared.

If you want me to go up to someone and chat with him/ her, a total stranger, my mind would go bust. I cannot seem to find the correct words, connecting sentences and I go into a disarray. I end up entirely self-conscious, my grammer sounds wierd, my vocabulary ends up limited and I mess up. So much for first impressions.

Thus, I totally shut up, and not embarrass anyone. Imagine me stuttering and trying so hard to get us talking? And its not moving...me asking you how was your day twice?

Then I get labeled. Snobbish, stuck up, unfriendly (erm..you can continue on it..) ya, were used. For me, it is a balance between a verbal diarrhoea on issues that you won't have a clue on, or a mental constipation over what shall we chat about after this sentence.

My friend, Donny, says its chemistry, a compatibility of 2 people to become friends, then there's a commonness to communicate well. I told Don that its more to it than that to become friends. Its way more than just meeting at events and social gathering for a strong friendship to develop. Let us work/share together, that's where friendship grows, our shared circumstances, through a togetherness brings 2 (or more) people closer.

So, more convinced that I am shy now? Serious, I was, and still am. One of the many façades you might have problem believing.

Reflections

Reflection is one of the most abused word of today. Many a time, you do something not quite right, the 'punishment' is something like, 'Go to your room and face the wall, and reflect on your actions. For some, reflections only take place when something isn't done quite right, and a real punishment isn't justified.

Reflections are intentional, cognitive recollection of events by our minds, for the emotional analysis by the heart. Issues seems to soften when they are carefully thought thro, and emotionally-objectively criticised. The learning from our own actions, and what was transpired throughout the day gives us lessons books cannot teach.

Reflections are important in our lives. Shouldn't be done only when we are told to do so. I mean if we don't reflect our daily 'insides', its like not looking in the mirror at all for days. Anyone done that before? Most of us, vain-pots, would somehow be looking into the mirror, admiring something we have, or patching up if otherwise.

Its so much about re-examining oneself to realised that we fit into the bigger picture of the world around us. Its very much about looking beyond our noses too. Well, a well-thought person has a strong and good case, firmed in what you have been doing, and motivation to carry on with it.

Ok, that's all I have about Reflections. I need to swing back into the momentum of writing again. So this is a short and a starter. A mirror anyone?

--
Oh well, you must also be wondering what happened to me over the past week. My blog was rather empty dull. Well, here it is..It has been a very rocky 6 days for me. Somehow been attacked by a blue monster, and didn't seem to be riding out of it. The monster peaked on Friday. I was almost consumed by the monster. It was a difficult time for me, but I managed.

I'm a guy, I cry. Tears heal.

I don't believe in reincarnation. You mean I have to go through this mess again?

Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to doesn't mean that they don't love you with all they have.

Envy.
(noun) spite and resentment at seeing the success of another.

Envy.
(noun) the consuming desire to have everyone else as unsuccessful as you are.

Its perspective. There's one problem that plagues mankind is that we all look at things differently. Our biased nature gives us an inclination to saying how one things looks like, or doesn't look like.

Say, I have 2 drinks, one you like very much, and the other is something unpleasant. Both fills a mug at its halfway point. Somehow there seem to have a empty and full mug.

When we're envious, more often than not, our biasness takes over, and the bitterness comes in. Somehow that person who's more successful has something wrong. The envy seems to have opened your eyes and allowed you to see his/her bad points. And somehow these points are also realised by everyone around you.

Hmmm..funny ya? But that's us. We have a choice to use envy to our benefit. Most of the time, otherwise seems easier.

That's all I have for now. Just thought about envy, and decided to write it down. Till next blog, ciao.

(actually my aunt's rushing me to get going over to her place, I suddenly have alot to blog today. Think I'd revert to pen and paper.. )

My brains malfunctioned. Somehow it didn't perform at all. I think it happens when you go through a lull period. Things would pick up. I don't want my blog to be too depressing. Lighter moments are always nicer to digest. Heavier ones are learning experiences.

Thanks mates, for your support thro my blogs, I try my best not to put up such a disappointing notice again.

Need rest.

I'm having/had a bad day. Can't really tell the difference between the tenses as I am still feeling horrible, and the day hasn't ended. There's this feeling of neglect by my beloved friends, and loved ones. Today, I somehow feel so uncared for. No one seems to have bothered about how I felt, or how I feel. No one seems to have made exceptions for me all on the same day.

Was I selfish to want my friends and loved ones just make a lil exception for me? Was it too much for them to give me 5 mins of their affection and time? Was it too much for me to ask of them to forgo something for a short while..and have some time for me?

Does it matter to anyone that I need to feel special too? Has it ever occurred that I do have my depressed moments and need some care and concern too? Has it ever occurred that I might not be able to handle rejections too well? Has it ever occurred that I also needed a lil gentleness and thoughtfulness?

I'm human. Or did you just realise it.

The Esplanade.

I think I am growing old. Older Persons always talk about the places and things they enjoyed while they were in their younger days. And then constantly talk about it. Its the first signs of dementia.

There's so much to talk abt the esplanade that my brains need time to process my thoughts.. that place means so much to me.

I got struck by something..lost it.. i'll update this soon. I promise. =)

....to be continued.....

Starbucks
(Disclaimer: This entry is solely based on the imagination, thoughts and reflection of the writer. It bears no relations, or is nor an advertisement campaign by Starbucks, or Bon Cafe/Star Pte Ltd, or any of the affiliates of the Coffeejoint.)

I met an old friend on Sunday. Was making my way to Starbucks. Our conversation went this way,

Friend: 'Hey, Hi! How have you been?'
Mun: 'Great, exams are over, been bumming around much, how about you?'
Friend: 'Not too bad, camp has been tiring..but good. Where you heading?'
Mun: 'Starbucks, you?'
Friend: (rolls eyes) 'Oh, always la you..I'm buying something...'

The relationship between Starbucks and I dates back long ago. Everytime you cannot find me in school, or at home, try Starbucks. I think I am more remembered for my love for coffee, than how I looked (Actually, I'm quite grateful la).

The closure of one of my favorite and most frequent Starbucks joint in 2001 (..I think) was perhaps one of the saddest moments in the history of the shopping mall. For a moment, the demise of the mega-joint felt as good as the departure of the entire shopping complex.

Now you must be wondering why on earth I am so attached to this coffeejoint. (..and My coffeebean-loyal mates must be swearing now, too bad, but read on.. =? ) I think I spent one of the best years of my life sitting down at Starbucks. I somehow could study, read, reflect, chat, laugh, cry, date, stone or even talk to myself there.

The fond memories of my younger Starbucks days lingers in my mind till today. The best things and the worst stuff has happened there, for me . I even did a Marketing Project for Starbucks.

So, what's the big deal about Starbucks? Actually nothing. Although speciality coffees like a latte or an espresso are my likes, I have the machine at home..and can make my own espressos, steamed milk..and viola, my latte.

Hmmm.. I'm actually writing about Starbucks, not for its coffee, but Starbucks, the place, not the ambience, but for the people that has had shared many star moments with me there, over a coffee.

I've been depressed lately. I miss going to Starbucks so often to load off my nonsense.. to unwind, to lament. I miss going there alone just to spend time with myself. To space out, to give myself time and relaxation moments.

Most of all, I miss my friends. We've seem to all have parted and gone separate ways. We seem to have our dreams to live for, our ambitions to rise up to, and our destiny to fulfil. We've seem to grow apart from each other, gone overseas to pursue a better education, a better life.

The darkest days, or the brightest ones were shared one to another there, then.

Yes, I still go to Starbucks. But it isn't the same as before. Something's missing. Perhaps my heart is missing. The epicenter of my central function isn't present where the body should be.

My friends, Starbucking has never been the same since we parted. We haven't been free enough for each other, or no time being our most convenient excuse. Whatever it is..I want to tell you this one thing. These moments are those that made a difference in my life. It has made, and left permanent footprints in my life, it wasn't on sand, it was on clay.

Success isn't measured by how much you have achieved, its measured by how much you have given of yourself.

Black and White, Gray.

When we were younger, things were simpler. Black was simply black, and white was just white. Our black and white vision seems to get interesting as we grow. As we grow older, somehow things become less simple than they used to. The Gray sets in. (even the spelling of 'Gray' is gray, or grey. Whichever..)

With more knowledge empowering us, people would say that black and white areas are more defined and distinct. I agree and disagree. But I must say, black and white stuff, with no variety, makes life boring. Gray gives us an edge to play with, and live on. Gray gives us the challenge to venture, explore and discover new and different things, different from the tried and tested Black and White stuff.

I had the pleasure of some accounting modules in school. I must say, Accounting is simple. Its black and white. Credits and debits are constant. With the same places to put in, and remove, add and subtract. Its the right one at the right place, you score the marks. I am very bad in accounting. Until today, I don't really recall having an accounting sheet balancing before. It is too straight, too rigid, no variations, no deviations, nothing. Just follow, and memorise, that's all you need. *rolls eyes*

I usually scrap pass the Accounting modules with a 'D' and I am proud of it.

Gray looks like what I enjoy being in. There is no correct answer to many things, how can we put a regimental structure and standard (that might not actually be good in the first place!) onto all and expect all of us to blindly follow. If it has been proven good and functional during your time, hey, c'mon, don't expect it to always work all the time! Like Accounting, Black and White issues must evolve to a point where it remains good (assuming that it was good in the first place), beneficial and relevant to times.

How can we impose what worked for one man, unto all? Concepts and objectives may remain the same, but methods can change. I mean without change, then there's nothing to be nostalgic about anyway, nothing much moved; those times and now, looks like its still the same, those times.

How to have room for creativity when things are all thought out for us? Anything gray, grey or a little more colorful is being smashed out as ideas that are radical and wild, untamed, ill-disciplined, or reckless. I think what we lack most isn't creativity, what we lack most is guts.

Creativity is dreams with a parameter. Creativity without parameters can just be Castles in the Air.

Server Down.

I had so much on my mind, so much I could pen. This time, the server didn't work.. Its ok. I'm leaving you guys with something I dug up.

Savor..

 

A Child’s Plea
I look up to you with trusting eyes
For I know you can help me reach the skies
Hold my hand and show me about
I need you, please don’t shut me out!

You are my guide
You are my star
Light up my way
And I can go far.

Small and dark my mind will stay
Open its windows I pray
Only then, the world I can sway!

Teach me to care
Show me how to share
You know the way
And I just know, you’ll get me there!

As Promised, and nothing political.

One hot topic that has left many Singaporeans feverish is SARS. Singaporeans Are Really Scared this time around. Well, I am very caught between delivering a lesson on my blog on the 5 Stages of a Terminally Ill patient, and making this blog a light one. I choose the latter.

The other day, I saw this guy on the train, armed with a N95, gloves, long-sleeved shirt, long pants, shoes. In 4 words, he was totally covered. I sat opposite him, in my mind, wondering if he was trying a avoid the virus, avoid passing the virus, or perhaps someone he didn't want to meet. I mean in all those gears, who could have guessed who that was right?

Remember some weeks back there was this bloke who went on a robbing spree, with his mask on? I reckon Singaporeans are totally innovative. In crisis like these, they can come up with ingenious ideas for their own, crimes?

Now, with all these other happenings, no wonder Singaporeans are sars-picious of everyone else. My friend was telling me, once, knowingly in contact with anyone with SARS, we are all sars-pects. And on the news we often hear about the sars-pected cases. Of course it is sars, what else?

Ok, enough of my corny puns on SARS, doesn't very much cornnect.

On a more serious note, I am grateful that SARS has been very much contained in TTSH, we've made sure that most people who needed to be off the streets, are off the streets. In the entire episode, I see several things that lifts my spirits, and smashes it too.

I am encouraged by the folks working hard, risking not only their lives, but their loved ones too, to treat and manage the situation. Imagine our health-care workers chickening out? I was talking to a friend who's a A&E Nurse in TTSH. The courage within was amazing. Mate, I'm proud of you. Its selflessness you know. How many of us can do this? Respond to our call of duty this way?

On the other hand, while a group are hard at work, there are a few Singaporeans who thinks that the nation owes them a living. Roaming around the streets after being told by the doctor to sit tight and wait to be sent to the TTSH for good care and treatment. These are the people that gives reason for the govt. to ban guns, they need to be protected. I would have volunteered to shoot the living life out of that fellow. Anytime.

Lately, I haven't been so harsh on cabbies. I used to be totally mean towards them. Felt that their behavior on the road was totally difficult, and gun control laws were to protect them. Today, cabbies are so affected by SARS that many are making losses, returning vehicles etc etc. I feel for them, and there's nothing the govt. can do about it. Give handouts? As much as my heart goes out to them, cabbies, I do hope this is a lesson for you. Behave well on the road, you don't own it, we'll not make your lives to miserable also ok?

There's so much to talk about SARS, and lessons I have learnt. I remember my friends falling sick during the week school closed. They had a throat infection. It left us all worried, not knowing what was wrong with them. Was it the dreaded word? I remember our assignments coming to a standstill coz they couldn't meet up to complete assignments, and at times, we had to work doubly hard to complete each other's part. I've learned to extend a hand, and do more, just to make everyone more comfy. My friends, thanks for running along side with me.

I'm not going to criticize what had happened, not until things are more settled, and not on my blog.

My joy is that things are more settled, and life must go on. Like it or not, we've been hit, now recovering, so lets do our bit to get things moving..and life going.

Tomorrow's Blog is something not so current. Think this isn't too good a post. Like some news analysis cut out and pasted. lol. I'll be back soon. SARSi anyone?

Nostalgia is but a Cheap Holiday.

Hmmm.. Ever once sat down on a chair, put on your fav. CD and relax, only to realise that what you have put on brings you back to those days which seems to be the best days of your life? Bask in that feeling for a while..and when that song ends, your holiday ends along with it, and come a hard ache in your chest. Then you say, ' Haiz, I miss those days...'

Being a Sentimental Fool, I get that all the time. I often listen to the music I that was a hit when I was young(er) (okay..I'm still young!), sit in my chair and feel my heart growing from warm, to pain. Pain? Coz those were the good Ole' times.

I was about to mention the songs that brings back these memories, the moments, my holidays, but then again, if I were to do so, I won't really like the reactions on your faces. I'd be wondering what would be on your faces, (not to mention what goes thro the mind) when I say the tunes of the Carpenters (No, not my cabinet people..), or The Bee-Gees (not the bees and birds!), or something more recent, Air Supply, Boyzone (now the boyband thing ya?).

Well, every song that grew up with me, has its moment and chapter that came with it. Sometimes I do wish I do not go on a holiday. I mean the only people are on perpetual holidays are retirees. Spare me the my nostalgia, coz I would just sit on my chair, and not work for those minutes the songs play. How productive.

Wow, looks like my life has been much of a musical. The only difference is that I don't sing in it. The professionals do.

Now..I miss those days already.

Ok, what have I gotten myself into. I was to write something light here today. Somehow didn't turn out light. Ok, perhaps the weekend could help. I had a rough Friday. An adventurous week. Would sum them on Sunday. And on Saturday, I shall comment my 2cents' on SARS, a light (perhaps airy) one I promise. Don't want to further frighten an already SARSpicious Singapore. Feverish?

Rainbow.

I'm colorblind. Never really seen a rainbow before. Ok..yes, I've seen it, but not all the 7 colors there. Say about 3.

Yet, each time my mates share the moments of the rainbow appearing, all (incl. mine) our spirits are lifted. Amazing ya? Even those who can't see it, shares it.

So, you are thinking, what's so great about the rainbow?

Well, perhaps its a sign of the rain being over. So no more soggy shoes and wet sandals?

Nah, its not about the rainbow, (although its significance is great, and we'll explore why another time ya?) I think its more about sharing the joy, Partage de la Joie , the discovery of something different, something out of the extraordinary, something joyous.

Well, yes, true that the rain has subsided, but I personally won't want to go into the waterlogged fields to play (imagine the soggy shoes I was avoiding, now play?!). So its not about play, going for a picnic, or a movie/ cafe latte for that matter (its indoors anyway)? Ironical right? Yet we somehow can get so excited over something we don't know what it means or why.

And we are happy. No one sits under the rainbow and makes a wish, or does silly things like looking out what colors could be used for 4-D. Perhaps I can only look into the rainbow, in awe, and say, 'wow, you aren't tainted by the supersition, greed or glutton of man yet' . Yes, yet.

I am thankful for the rainbow. It brings along with it my mates sharing the moment with me. It brings along my mates treating me part of them, smiling and telling how nice it is. Its that communal moment, where we are all IN it.

If the rain refreshes me, I must say, the rainbow rejuvenates me. It gives me a new lease of life, to know that I am treasured by my friends, and they want to share 'that' moment with me.

To my Friends who shares with me moments like these, a big Thank You.