Tales of the Supernatural #5: Halloween Special

Today is Halloween, when people celebrate all that is scary and ghostly, and children (and some adults who never grew up) get to stuff themselves with free candy. I don't celebrate Halloween, I have no carved pumpkins nor am I dressing up in spooky costumes. However, in the spirit on this supernatural festival, I shall share my scariest personal story...

Blackouts occur a bit too frequently for my taste in my house back in Malaysia. Aside from losing the fan and air-conditioning and ending up feeling like we're in a sauna, blackouts also mean we lose all the lights if it happened at night. They can last from 30 minutes to a few hours, so we always have some spare candles in a drawer ready to be used in an emergency. One night when another blackout happened just before my family were going off to bed, we decided not to use the candles since we were all going to be asleep soon. My sister, being a scaredy cat, begged me to sleep with her in her room. A storm was raging outside, lashing at the windows and occasionally blasts of lightning would turn the room white with sudden brilliance, making her even more terrified. Feeling bad for her,  I conceded to her request.

Now I never have been fond of my sister's room. She had one mirror facing the bed, and another mirror on the closet, which faced the windows. I hated having so many mirrors (I was very superstitious about mirrors) and I didn't like looking at the window's reflection in the mirror. She also did not have any heavy curtains on, just a see-through white lace curtain which basically meant you can see everything outside even with it drawn. I slept on the side nearest to the closet, while she slept on the side closer to the window. We both slowly nodded off, and were fast asleep.

I don't know how much time passed, but something woke me in the middle of the night. At first, I couldn't figure what woke me. Then I heard it again. Someone was knocking. Someone was knocking on the window. We lived on the 4th floor of our apartment block. As this slowly dawned on my sleep-addled brain, my eyes opened wider. I could see the windows in the mirror opposite me, but everything was so dark, and the rain was still pouring heavily from the skies. Suddenly, lightning bloomed in the sky, illuminating the window. Then I saw it. A hand, just a hand, knocking on the window. It looked really thin, just skin and bones, and all I could see of it was its outline, from a fist to an elbow. Heart pounding, cold sweat on my brow, chills down my spine. I closed my eyes again, refusing to look at the mirror. I pretended to be asleep, prayers repeated again and again on my lips. The knocking eventually stopped. Heaving a sigh of relief, I relaxed and snuggled into the covers.

It was not over yet though.

Nails scraped on glass. A horrible screeching sound that grated on my nerves and turned them raw with fear. I couldn't help it, I had to see. I opened my eyes, and there in the mirror I could see two hands now, both scratching on the glass, making that ghastly sound. Then, to my horror, I could see a head slowly coming up from underneath the windows. Before I could see more, I squeezed my eyes shut again. I don't think I could handle looking at a face of...whatever that is outside the window. The scratching grew more frenzied, but I kept my eyes closed, my body completely still. I never ceased muttering prayers under my breath. I don't know how long it lasted, all sense of time was numbed by the fear. Somehow I must have fell asleep, because the next thing I realized was waking up to sunshine streaming in. I checked the windows for nail marks, considering how loud it sounded I thought the glass must be scored with lines. But there was nothing. My annoying sister slept through the whole thing, lucky girl.

I told someone about it, and they half-jokingly said that perhaps "it" was looking for some shelter from the storm and wanted to come in. I told them that wasn't funny at all.

So if someone knocks on your window tonight, be careful. It might not be a trick-or-treat...

Happy Halloween!

Tales of the Supernatural #4: Go Bump in the Night

Have you got an attic in your house? If you do, and you get scared easily, you might want to avoid this story...

I live in an apartment in Malaysia, on the top floor of our block. Above our flat, there is a large empty space, just below the roof, where the reserve water tanks for the whole building is stored. There is nothing else in this space, just the occasional bird nest and lots of spiders and cobwebs. The only way to access this "attic" space is by climbing up a ladder and going through one of the loose ceiling panels above my balcony.

One night, a typhoon was raging outside in full frenzy, rain lashing against my windows. I was just lying in bed, revising some History for exams (yes, I study in bed, and yes I know it's an awful habit). I was getting increasingly bored (sorry, History teachers!) and as it was getting late, my eyelids were starting to droop.

Suddenly, I heard the sound. It was a deep thundering sound, and initially I thought it was just thunder. Then I heard it again. It sounded like something really big and heavy was rolling on the floor...no, on the ceiling. I stared up at the ceiling, but of course without any X-ray vision I could tell if there was something in the attic space above my room. I listened intently for a few minutes, but there was only silence. I turned back to my book, trying to finish the chapter.

I heard it again, this time for a much longer duration. I could clearly discern that the sound seemed to be moving, like something was rolling from one end of the ceiling to the other. The logical part of my brain took over as I realized that there were large water tanks up there. Fearing that one may have toppled over due to the strong winds, I went to find my dad. Obviously I didn't want a mini flood to happen in the attic and leak down my ceiling.

Dad took a flashlight, climbed up the ladder and opened the panel. Shining the light around and giving the attic a quick scan, he found nothing amiss. All 4 tanks were there, and all were upright, and there was nothing else there. Satisfied, I went back to my room. By this time, the storm had subsided, and the rain was slowing to a gentle drizzle. I turned off the lights, went under my covers, and settled to sleep.

My eyelids flew open. There's the sound again. Louder, and much longer now. It's rolling from one corner to the other, going faster and faster and faster. In the dark, I stared at the ceiling, my heart in my mouth. Squeezing my eyes tightly closed, I started reciting prayers. I could hear the rolling getting even faster now, and so loud I'm surprised the whole house didn't wake up. As I neared the end of my prayers, it suddenly slowed down, and when I finished it stopped abruptly. The sudden silence was deafening. Whatever "it" was, it stopped.

I never found out what "it" was (probably never would), and to this day I have never had such an experience again. But I'm glad "it" chose to stay in the attic instead of visiting me in my room...

The Magic of Ghibli and the Tortured Genius

If you know me, you'd know than I am a major anime fan. And of course, a major Ghibli fan. For those of you who don't know (gasp!) Studio Ghibli is an animation studio that have released countless animation films that have won accolades and hearts all over the world, and their biggest star is director, Miyazaki Hayao. If you have never watched a Ghibli movie or assume that animation films are only for kids, you are losing out on a magical world that will make such a deep impact on you. Give it a try, and I'd suggest either Spirited Away or My Neighbour Totoro as a start.

Anywhooo, I just watch a documentary about Miyazaki Hayao, focusing on him and Studio Ghibli as he makes his final feature film, The Wind Rises. It's a very special sneak peek into the mind of a creative genius whom one could say is the greatest living animator, and into the process that goes into a Ghibli film. This documentary, called The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness, is a work of art on it's own.

As one review put it: "it’s an emotional gut punch on par with anything from the director himself. The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness should be considered essential viewing for any Studio Ghibli fan, for whom it will stand alone as a captivating work in its own right."

 I'm not going to talk much about the documentary, as it is best enjoyed by watching it. But I am going to share some thoughts that Miyazaki shared, which have struck a deep chord within me.

"We're born with infinite possibilities, only to give up on one after another. To choose one thing means to give up on another. That's inevitable. But what can you do? That's what it is to live."

I think a lot of dilemmas we have, especially in our adolescent years, is the struggle to choose a path knowing that we have to give up on all the other paths, and the insecurity and doubt of not knowing whether the path we've chosen is the right path, because we've given up on the others. But as Miyazaki put it, that's what life is. You make a choice, never knowing what the future holds, and hoping that what you've chosen is what's right for you. Then you put your faith in God, and that He will give you what's best for you. That's how we live.

"Today, all of humanity's dreams are cursed somehow. Beautiful yet cursed dreams."

This gave me chills, because I could feel the steel of truth beneath the words. Here, Miyazaki was talking about how people who design planes and stuff with the best intentions, yet those planes are used as tools for industrial civilization, or worse, for war. (watch The Wind Rises and you'll get the war plane reference :P) So even the best intentions and dreams are cursed because they are vulnerable to being polluted and manipulated for the worst purposes and outcomes. Like dynamite, like electricity, heck, like the internet, tools are double-edged swords that can be used for good or evil. It's the curse of humanity, perhaps, as long as we are capable to be good or evil, to forever be caught between these opposing sides.

You hear the phrase "tortured genius", and I wondered why that phrase came into existence. Watching Miyazaki though, I think I understand. His colleagues call him an idealist, that he asks for the impossible from his staff. A genius' talent probably allows them to see a completely different world, and they see how perfection can be achieved. But because we're only human, that perfection will always be just out of reach. Despite reaching great heights far beyond others, they will never be satisfied or happy with it, because they can see what could be, they know there are greater heights. Yet they continue to struggle and strive for it,  and so end up a tortured genius. I'm no genius so I don't know if this is true, but it's what I felt when listening to Miyazaki talk about his work.

Ok, my feverish ravings will stop here. Just some thoughts I wanted to share. Now I shall go have a cup of tea while I contemplate these pearls of wisdom (?) and unravel the ball of jumbled up emotions this documentary has made in me.

Tales of the Supernatural #3: Don't Forget the Password

Summer is coming soon, and for those countries with four seasons, summer is the season for camps. In Malaysia, where it is eternally summer, camps obviously run year round. Most kids have been to at least one camping trip, either organised by family or by their schools. 

Being the superstitious lot that we are, whenever there is a camp in a remote jungle or beach area, we will always get the "rules to respect" talk on the first day. Nature is to be respected, and we are not "alone" in wherever we are. Everyone is warned not to be disrespectful, such as making too much noise, making rude or distasteful comments or jokes, dressing inappropriately or doing inappropriate *ehem* things. 

Another thing that they also did is to give a "password" to all campers. This is usually a simple word or phrase, easy to remember, such as Coca-cola. The point of the password is to identify whoever we were speaking to as a real human camper and not some....other entity. We were advised that whenever speaking to someone after dark, we should first verify that they are humans by asking them the password. If they got it wrong, well...start running. Or screaming. Or both.

I remember thinking at the time, that if they were announcing it out loud to all the campers, surely all the other "beings" around us could hear too, but oh well, it was almost like a camp tradition. It was not questioned.

One time, I was in such a camp, with such a rule, situated on a beach. It was a school event, and I was there with loads of other students. After all the evening activities had ended, it was time to sleep. As girls are wont to do, we were having a short gossip session before bed, giggling and whispering in our camps. One of the girls felt the need to go to the toilet, and being a scaredy cat, she insisted one of us go with her. So the pair of them left, and we continue our gossiping.

Around 15 minutes later, one of the girls came back alone, and asked if the other had came back before her. We said she hadn't, and then started to worry. Four of us, including the first girl, then went off to look for her. We saw her coming back from the direction of the toilet, and breathed a sigh of relief. As a joke, one of the girls said, " We thought you might have been kidnapped by spirits!" We all laughed, and another one said, "Guess we better check! What's the password?"

"Gula-gula." 

We all stopped laughing. 

We ran.

The missing girl was later found back at the camp, sleeping. She didn't remember how or when she came back from the toilet. No one mentioned the incident to her, and we never spoke about it ever again. 

So, kids, whenever you go to a camp, remember to respect nature and follow the rules given. And don't ever forget the password. 

*Note: Gula-gula means candy in Malay. The actual password for that camp was Coca-cola, in case you were wondering.* 

Look around you

When you see motes of dust floating in a ray of sunlight, 
does it make you think they're dancing and puts a little smile on your face?

When you look at the night sky and see the millions of stars twinkling at you,
can you feel the entire universe expanding outwards all around you?

When you stand at the top of a summit and see the land stretching endlessly below you, 
does it make you gasp in awe and take your breath away?

When you stare out to the sea and hear the waves crash, 
does it fill your heart with indescribable emotion and make your spirit soar?

When autumn comes and the leaves turn into brilliant shades and fall, 
do you feel inexplicably nostalgic and just a little bit more grown-up?

Because if you feel none of these things, 
   if nature and everything around you 
    don't have any effect on your heart and soul, 
      then the beauty of the world is wasted on you, 
        and you don't know how much you're missing. 

"If then, I were asked for the most important advice I could give, that which I considered the most useful to the men of our century, I should simply say: In the name of God, stop a moment, cease your work, look around you."   
- Leo Tolstoy

Oil and Water

You know how oil and water don't mix?

Oil is less dense than water, so oil will float on top of water. This video demonstrates that very clearly.

We use the analogy of oil and water to describe people or ideas that just cannot get along, to convey that concept that the two things are innately incompatible.
But oil and water can mix. My makeup remover uses this concept to remove my waterproof makeup. All you have to do is shake the bottle hard and for a while, oil and water mixes together and works in harmony to remove my makeup with minimal effort. Pretty impressive for two innately incompatible liquids.

I'm sure you've seen it before too. Petrol spilled on water, creating iridescent colours, like molten rainbow. Again, the contrast between incompatibility and harmony is clear; in fact it is that incompatibility itself creating the beauty and harmonious colours.

I'm sure people are like that too. That's why they say "opposites attract", but perhaps it should also say "opposites complement each other". What is lacking in one is present in the other, and the two opposing nature's working together creates a whole new harmony.

But then again, my sister and I are complete opposites and we fight all the time, so perhaps not all opposites work very well together?

Home Bittersweet Home

When I went back to Malaysia for Easter break, I developed a sun rash, called Polymorphic Light Eruption. It's different from a heat rash, and usually happens when skin is exposed to sunshine after a long period without sun. According to Patient.co.uk, it is "more common in countries with temperate climates."

Considering that I've now been residing in the UK for 4 years, I guess it's not a big surprise that my skin has gotten used to the weather here, and the tropical sun of Malaysia was enough of a shock that my immune system panicked and caused a red and extremely itchy rash on my exposed hands and feet. Yes, it should not be a surprise.

However, what surprised me was the feeling of betrayal, and of not belonging.

I felt that my body has betrayed my homeland, how it treated the sun that warmed me all those years growing up, as an enemy, as a stranger. I felt that my skin has betrayed me, by being more comfortable in a foreign land than in the land I was born and bred in. 

I felt like I no longer belong in my skin; my skin no longer belonged in my home. The discordance and dissonance between my physical being and my emotional state tortured me more than the constant itch of my raw red hands and feet. The sense of rejection by the skies of my childhood was more painful than the scores my nails made in my traitorous skin.

It's the little things like this that make me feel like a stranger in my own home. That new shopping mall where there used to be just empty space, the restaurant that's now my family favourite that I've never heard of, that street stall that was a fixture in the neighbourhood but no longer there, that relative who passed away but I was never told. Little things that are splinters in my heart, small but persistent, so difficult to dig out, running through my veins.

Going home can be a bittersweet experience. But it never changes the fact that my heart and my soul always yearns for that place I call home.

"Oh, London is a man's town, there's power in the air;
And Paris is a woman's town, with flowers in her hair;
And it's sweet to dream in Venice, and it's great to study Rome;But when it comes to living there is no place like home.”  

-Henry Van Dyke

Single is Sin

Ahh, there it is again.

"You're still single?" The surprised look.

"So, have you got a boyfriend yet?" The expectant tone.

"Any good news?" The teasing question.

"There really isn't anyone you're interested in?" The disbelieving expression.

"You're just too picky. Your standards are way too high." The insensitive reply.

"You've gotta go out and meet people, socialize and mix around. You're not going to meet anyone if you don't put in some effort." The carelessly thrown advice.

"Maybe guys are just intimidated by you, you're so accomplished." The attempts to console, backfiring.

Is being single such a sin? Heck, I'm only 24. Still a student, barely out of the cocoon of childhood, the wings of adulthood still barely unfurled.

I don't even know myself well, how am I supposed to know another human being enough to trust and give them my all? 

I'm a stranger still to myself, how do I find another stranger and become intimate? 

If falling in love means letting someone in, how do I do that when I still can't find the door to my own heart?

I know the questions are well meaning, the teasing and the jokes merely good-natured fun, and their concern (that because I am single I am lonely) is only because they care.  Still, it makes me feel like I've failed somehow by being single; that my failure in finding someone to love and to love me back is a sign that there is something wrong with me. Perhaps there is, I don't know. Perhaps the fault lies with me, and I have to fix it so people will stop being worried and I can fulfill their expectations.

But that's not right. I shouldn't be trying to find someone to love for reasons like that. Shouldn't love come naturally, like a bolt out of the blue, or like the gentle swell of a wave, or is that another lie spread by movies and novels? 

Well if it's a lie, at least I know this must be true: that love should not be for anyone else's sake. 

Love should be because your heart couldn't help but fall, not because that person fulfills all the criteria on your list, or because people around expect you to be with someone, anyone. Love should be " not just because you can see yourself with them, but because you can't imagine your life without them."  I want my love to be for that reason, and that reason alone. 

If that means I have to be single for a bit longer, and endure the barrage of questions and advice for a bit longer, and continue my awkward attempts at finding "the one", I don't mind. If the reasons and the person is right for me, that's when it'll be the right time for me too. And that's all that matters. *smile*

The Massacre

Note: I apparently wrote this way back in 2008, when I was facing the national exams in my final year of high school. So please excuse the excessive drama :P

The Massacre.

There was a massacre

In school

In the classrooms

Thousands were dead

They were massacred

Eerily…silently.

There were no screams

No stench

Just the quiet sigh

Of last breath

Escaping.

The Grim Reaper walked past

Footsteps echo

Papers in hand

Eyes straight ahead

Blind to the dead.

Yes, it was exam day.

The day that our

brain cells

were killed.

Tales of the Supernatural #2: Under the Table

Tales of the Supernatural #2: Under the Table

Exam season is over for everyone in university now, and people are starting to plan their Easter holidays and getting excited. No more long nights burning the midnight oil and no more eye bags so big people can't recognise you anymore (this actually happened to one of my friends, no joke).

But all those nights you were up cramming till dawn, when you thought you were all alone and the world was dead asleep, perhaps you weren't really alone...

My cousin was studying at a boarding school, and as a straight As kinda guy, he studied alone in his room till the wee hours quite often. Those were the nights so quiet, that all he could hear was the scratching of his pen on paper, and the flipping of the pages of his books. 

One night, he was doing his usual midnight revision session, when he dropped his pen. With the table lamp as the only light source, under his desk was really dark. Fumbling around with his hands under the table looking for his pen, suddenly his pen was handed to him. Automatically, he said "thank you", and continued writing. Due to sleep deprivation, his brain wasn't really at it's clearest, and it took him a while to realise that someone, or something, had handed him the pen back. 

As he realised this, a chill went up his spine. He pulled the chair back from the desk, and stooped down to get a better look under his desk. There, crouching in the dark, was a child-sized creature, with green skin and large yellow eyes. It grinned, showing a full set of sharp pointy teeth, and said: "You're welcome". 

So to all students, try not to stay up too late? Revise regularly instead of cramming all night. It's much healthier and probably safer as well...


*Note: The creature described here is called "toyol" in Malay, and according to folklore has the appearance I described, similar to a goblin. Its origins are said to be a child spirit evoked by dead human fetuses using black magic. People often keep them as pets/servants, using them mainly to steal from others or to do mischief. 

It is sometimes called the "Kwee Kia" in Hokkien. In Thailand, they are called Koman-tong (Male) and Koman-lay (Female). In Philippines they have a similar child spirit called the "tiyanak". In Cambodia they are called "Cohen Kroh". In South Korea called "Do Yeol".

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toyol

Tales of the Supernatural #1 Don't Look Back

If you're a close friend of mine, you'd know that I absolutely love listening and collecting stories of the supernatural. As memory is an unreliable source, I've decided to write down the stories I've heard from people (and some I've experienced myself) to share with my dear readers.

Even if you don't believe in ghosts and spirits, I hope these stories at least provide you some entertainment (and perhaps some chills down your back), as well as provide an interesting look into the cultures of the people who recounted these stories.

First up, I thought I'd start it off with a light one, not too terrifying in case I scare some people off :P

#1: Don't look back

When I was a child, my grandmother used to tell me stories of spirits, and certain superstitious rules that I should follow to avoid getting in some supernatural trouble. One of them goes like this: if you are alone in a room or in the house, and you hear someone calling your name. When you look back there's definitely no one there. If this goes on, and the second time you look back, there is no one there again, the third time you hear your name being called, you MUST NOT look back. If you did, you'd see something terrible, and it may even be the last thing you would ever see again.

One afternoon, I was home alone after school, and was sitting in the living room, doing my schoolwork. I heard someone call my name, and looked back expecting to see my sister coming home from tuition class, but there was no one there. Getting up to go to the toilet, I heard my name being called again, this time much more loudly. I turned back again, but no one was there. Feeling chills creep up my neck, I proceeded to walk to the toilet, and just as I reached the door, I heard it again. My name being called, loud and clear, as if the person was standing right behind me.

I did not look back the third time.

If this ever happened to you, would you dare look back that third time? Let me know what happens if you do.

Inertia

Inertia. The first law of motion, stating that an object at rest stays at rest, and an object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an external force.

If a ball stays at rest, it will not move. If a ball is rolling down a hill, it will keep rolling, at the same speed, in the same direction, until some external force, like friction or an obstacle blocking its way, makes it stop.

Human lives are also subject to inertia. When people choose to do nothing, the world doesn’t change. And when we do start something, it keeps rolling on and on, building momentum like a snowball. Here’s a story of inertia, how things can never change, and how things can keep changing.

A girl gets on a coach, heading to the airport. She’s tired and distracted, stuffing her bag in the overhead rack before sitting down with a sigh. A guy boards the coach too, and sits just behind her. He’s on the phone to his dad, telling him he’ll be home in a few hours. The girl overhears the conversation and smiles, as she’s heading to the airport to pick her mum up. She looks for her mobile phone to check the arrival time again, but her phone is nowhere to be seen. 

She panics, and starts rummaging around her handbag and coat pockets again and again, but to no avail. She checks her backpack in the overhead rack, still no phone. As her tears threaten to fall, she checks under her seat to see if her phone was there, and turns around to the guy behind her, asking: “Could you please check under your seat if my phone is there, I can’t seem to find it.” The guy, just finishing his phone conversation, immediately checks and looks around, but no phone was in sight. As he tells this to the girl, he notices her red watery eyes and her distress.

Inertia. If he had left it at there, this story ends just like that. The girl doesn’t find her phone, she cries silently, and nothing changes. The ball stays at rest.

However, an external force starts the ball rolling. He asks her: “Do you want me to call your phone and see if you can hear it ring?” She was so relieved at the offer, and gives her phone number to him. He dials, and at first they hear nothing. He tries again, and she hears a faint sound from the gap between the seats, and finds her phone. She cries in happiness, and thanks him profusely. They smile at each other, and he’s happy to have done a good deed.

Inertia. The ball keeps rolling.

She found her phone, and manages to call her mother at the airport, who had arrived early and didn’t know that her daughter was coming to pick her up as it was a surprise. If she hadn’t found her phone, that girl and her mum would likely have missed each other at the airport, and another sad event would have occurred. That one good deed has spread the happiness and spared two people from unhappiness.

Inertia. The ball keeps rolling.

The girl tells the story of the guy on the coach to her mum, and her mum insists on sending a message to the guy to thank him. She sends a thank you message, and he replies. That conversation somehow lengthened, and they became friends. He told her that he’d gone home and taken some time off because he couldn’t cope with life in university, and it turns out they went to the same university but different courses. She becomes a really good friend, and thanks to her support, he goes back to university, and they graduate in the same year.

That guy is now my husband. On the day of our wedding, he gave me a framed print of my thank you message, the one I sent him all those years ago. “This was the message that started it all, this is where our story started. This time, it’s my turn to thank you, for choosing me, and we’ll continue our story together from now on”.

Inertia. Our story is still going on, like the ball that keeps rolling, until the external force called death comes and parts us. In every moment of life, we hold the power to change the lives of people around us, we all own a force that can decide whether the world changes or stays the same. Love, kindness, and empathy can move people in the right directions; every good deed keeps going on and on, spreading like ripples. Don’t let the forces of anger, selfishness and envy stop the ripples. As long as we keep those ripples going strong, we can make the world a happier place, if only just by a little bit. 

A wise fool

The professor asked: "Does anyone NOT know the answer to this question?" 

I raised my hand. 

I was the only one who did. Everyone else stared; I heard a few snickering. 

I kept my hand straight in the air, and my head held high. The professor sneered and said:"Why do you look so proud to be the only one who doesn't know?" 

I answered: "I am not ashamed to be ignorant because I have the courage to seek knowledge. I pity those who are ignorant and remain so out of shame, and I pray that God may give courage to them. I pray that God bless those who are knowledgeable and give such knowledge to others freely just because they wish others to be knowledgeable too. And most of all, I pray that God forgive those who are knowledgeable, yet they look down upon the ignorant who wish to learn, and take foolish pride in their knowledge."

Silence reigned in the room.

"A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool." -William Shakespeare

A Diagnosis of Love (for medics)

A patient comes in complaining of palpitations and dyspnoea (shortness of breath). She also mentions that occasionally she gets chest pains (stabbing pleuritic pain). 

Past medical history: Had asthma in childhood, but has been well for the past 3 years with an occasional attack once a year. 

Drug history: None. Tried paracetamol for the pain but didn't help. 

Family and social history: Lives alone, working as a nurse. No major illnesses in family. 

On examination, she is tachycardic (130/min), but otherwise fit and well. No other signs is observed. During history taking, she mentions that her palpitations get worse when she is with a certain person or talking to that person, and her chest pain worsens when that person looks happy with someone else.

Diagnosis: LOVE.

Treatment: ?

Doorknob

He has the most peculiar nose. It's really long, but it doesn't grow straight forward, it bends over to the right. His skin colour is very nice though, a sort of burnished coppery gold. 

He's not very young, probably as old as his house, and the years that have passed have left their marks on him, dulling his radiant complexion, but he insists to remain useful to others despite his age. 

He may seem cold at first, but once you get a firm grasp on him, he'll warm up to you quickly. He doesn't talk much, as if he's got a lock on his mouth, but his funny little nose can twist up and down, and that always makes me chuckle a little, so he's quite a pleasant man to be around.

Who is this "he" I'm talking about?

My Doorknob.

Shower

I stood there, every muscle in my body rigid, almost snapping under the tension. 

I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. 

Every drop of water falling sounded like a meteor hitting the ground. 

Every second felt like eternity. 

I took a deep breath. I knew I couldn't stay there forever. 

It was a risky move, and I knew that one small mistake could mean death, but there was no choice. It's now or never, I told myself. 

Screwing my eyes shut, in a flurry of movement I simultaneously pressed the off button and literally vaulted out of the tub into my towel. 

Bracing myself and gathering my courage, I did it.

I got out of the shower.

(P.S. Only people suffering from the freezing cold weather will understand this. My dear Malaysian family and friends, you can stop scratching your head.)

Tinted Glasses

I wish i could see myself from outside myself, to see what i look like from other people's eyes. But then, I would still be me, and I would judge me based on my own biases, which won't help. 

To truly know what other people think of me when they see me, I would need to see not just through their eyes, but through their minds: through their beliefs,biases,principles,experiences and standards. 

Only then I can truly know what they see when they see me. 

It's a scary thought at times, and makes me want to hide, because I fear what they may see. But then again, God sees me always, and sees me as I am. That can be the scariest thought of all, and could be the best thought of all. 

Lonely Imaginations

I always thank my imagination for keeping me company when I'm travelling alone. It makes even the mundane feel magical.

Going through a long dark tunnel in a train makes me feel like I'm floating in the darkness of outer space heading towards an unknown galaxy, like in Miyazawa's book "Night on the Galactic Railroad".

Being the only one awake in a bus (along with the driver, I hope :P) while everyone is asleep reminds me of a scene in an anime I once saw where an entire city fell asleep and only the heroes were awake fighting the enemy, and makes me feel like one of the heroes.

Watching the scenery go by while listening to the soundtrack song from a drama I love brings back my favourite scenes in my head, like my own personal TV running in my mind, putting a smile on my lips.

So as Kelly Clarkson's song says, "Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone"

On another note about loneliness:

Why do people get lonely? Because there is someone whose company they love and yearn for more than their own company. If there is no such person, then you don't get lonely. Theoretically speaking.

“Nobody likes being alone that much. I don't go out of my way to make friends, that's all. It just leads to disappointment. ”
― Haruki Murakami (one of my favourite authors) in Norwegian Wood

mile emoticon

Reflection turns to Shadow

Today I was your mirror. I was the reflection of everything you did. 
We left our houses, locked the door.
You jangled your keys, and I put mine in my pocket. 
You took out your white earphones, I took out my black ones. 
We put them on at the same time, 
and when we noticed our 'reflections' 
of each other 
on the opposite sides of the street,
we glanced at each other. 

You dropped your pen, we both stopped.
You picked it up and looked at me again, 
then continued walking. 
I let you walk in front of me, slightly embarrassed. 

Now I became your shadow. 
You ran across the road to catch the green light, 
I ran close behind your heels. 
You walked swiftly, but glanced back 
and saw me still behind you. 
Did you notice me becoming your shadow? 

We walked all the way to the same building, 
such a coincidence that I couldn't believe it. 
And then we went our separate ways. 

For 10 minutes of my life, 
I was aware of your existence, 
and you existed in my thoughts, 
and you mattered to me. 

Was it the same for you, Mr Stranger?

Not strangers, yet we walked alone

I didn't run to catch up to you. You didn't stop and wait for me to catch up to you. And so we both walked apart from each other, one ahead, one behind, silently. Even though we were walking the same way, towards the same destination, we walked alone. Was it my fault? was it yours? Or were both of us at fault? I don't know. All I know was that there were two of us, and we were not strangers, yet we walked alone.

Note to My Future Self #3

Note to My Future Self #3

Feb 2013: Joie de Vivre

I love people who work earnestly towards something they love, and live life honestly and eagerly. They truly personify the phrase "joie de vivre". Full of life, vitality and optimism. Always putting their 100% into everything they do. Despite any hardships or obstacles, they forge forward with determination and passion, and remain hopeful in the most desperate situations. Their persistence and strength inspire people around them, and those people then turn into their supporting pillars, and they change those people's lives for the better. People may find my love for anime childish, but one of the main reasons I love anime is that the main characters are often people like the ones I just described: people full of "joie de vivre". And someday, I hope to be one too. Someday, inshaAllah.

Notes to My Future Self #2

Notes to My Future Self #2

April 2013: Travel

I am a traveller, seeking adventure and passion and drama in places familiar and foreign. And I hope to travel all my life, whether on a journey of the body or the mind or the soul, as long as I am travelling, for I am a traveller, and it is what makes me happiest.

Whenever I am travelling, I am either going somewhere I love, or returning to somewhere I love. I am travelling to meet someone I love, or returning to someone I love. I am travelling to find something new and exciting, or returning to something old that I miss. I am travelling alone to rediscover myself, or travelling with someone to create memories with.

That is why I am always happy when I travel.

Notes to My Future Self #1

Notes to My Future Self

April 2013: Being thankful

When I came back home and was unlocking the front door, like I've done hundreds of times, a thought suddenly struck me: how lucky I am to be holding this key, and having a home to return to. To me, it's a daily routine, unlocking my door and coming home, but for some people its a luxury that they may not have, that they desperately wish for.

And every little thing I do now, from drinking a bottle of ice tea, to typing on my laptop, every little thing which seemed so natural and came so easily to me, I see with new eyes. I see that every thing that I take for granted every day, may be something that someone else could only dream of, something that someone had never had the chance to do, and may never will.

And I realize how lucky I am. Not just to have all this, but to actually be aware and realise my fortune, that in itself is such a blessing. Thank you Allah, for opening my eyes. Alhamdulillah, all praise to Allah for all the blessings in my life :)