THOSE UNATTAINABLE CRUSHES

The story of  A loves B but B loves C plagues Aunt Agony’s column. I am often tempted to think that this is a modern day heartache among teenagers but alas it is as ancient as the hills. The French call it La Douleur Exquise - the heart wrenching pain of wanting someone who is unattainable.

I used to wonder why poets would subject themselves to bouts of melancholy because of unrequited love. Sir Thomas Wyatt  (1503 - 1542) was one. He was a famous poet and ambassador at the court of Henry VIII and he was one of Anne Boleyn’s suitors but his love was unrequited. In his poem “Whoso List to Hunt”, we read about a deer (Anne) being hunted down (by Henry VII) and being out of the poet’s reach because she says “Caesar’s I am”. 

 
Unrequited love or one-sided love is love that is not openly reciprocated or understood as such by the intended. The intended may be oblivious to the admirer’s attraction, or may consciously reject it. 

Even in the comic strip, ‘Peanuts’, we see elements of unrequited love. Schroeder the pianist feels nothing for Lucy despite Lucy’s constant declarations of her love for him. Charles M. Schulz, its creator says, ‘Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love.’ 

I was in Copenhagen recently and saw The Little Mermaid, a bronze statue by Edvard Eriksen. Before I went there I had re-read the fable by Hans Christian Andersen, so as to refresh my memory about the ill-fated mermaid who swam up to the surface of the sea on her 15th birthday just to have a glimpse of the human world. 

 
There was a storm and the prince was shipwrecked and the mermaid rescued him but he was not aware of who his rescuer was. She wanted to be near the prince and so exchanged her voice for a pair of legs. Only the sea witch could do that and every step she took felt like a knife cutting through her legs. The ultimate test was for the prince to marry her, otherwise in the morning after the prince had married another, she would become sea foam. 

Fast forward to the end of the story- the prince married another and the mermaid became sea foam. Some readers argue that the mermaid wanted to have a soul and she could only have that if she were to become human. 

But yet the theme about unrequited love and subsequently paying a huge sacrifice for it rings loud and clear. 

I wonder why people put themselves through situations such as this? Is it self delusion or are they being hopeful? Granted some people who carry on the waiting and hoping game do finally get their prize. These are few and far between but at what cost? 

Adele captures this hopelessness in ‘Chasing Pavements’ where she sings about flying around in circles leading nowhere when love is unrequited. 

 
It is easy for someone on the outside looking in to see how futile unrequited love is.I think most of us would have at least a friend who has been in that situation. We certainly deserve more than pining for someone who is unattainable 

After endless days of listening and advising a friend of ‘letting him go’, you see her still trying to establish links with the said party - stalking him online, texting and following him on social media. Pretty much a waste of time and energy. There’s this quote that goes, ‘I’m 99% sure that he doesn’t love me but it’s that 1% that keeps me going.’

 
Psychologists say that the way to get out of the misery is to acknowledge the injury done to yourself and the need to take care of yourself. Take comfort in the fact that many had gone through the same situation and emerged stronger. The biggest challenge is to give up the quest of chasing someone who doesn’t return your affections.

 
Only then will there be closure.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 16 OCTOBER 2016...http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/10/180594/those-unattainable-crushes

PREPARING MY JOURNEY TO THE OTHER WORLD

We had just a few good days of summer when the sun blazed and nearly everyone

was out of the house, taking advantage of the good weather. My garden was clothed in 

splendour not unlike desert vegetation once the rain falls.

Now Autumn has descended on us with its mellow fruitfulness to quote Keats. Where

did summer go? Leaves turn red and brown and birds start their migration. Coats make

 their reappearance and sun dresses go back into the recesses of the wardrobe. 

Before we know it, Winter has arrived.

I have just got a form from the church where I can plan what would be done the 

day I am on the runway to the other world. Sounds morbid but I thought that it 

is a brilliant idea - one can never be too ready for anything. As a child I was taught

never to mention the word death as it would bring bad luck. Yet, death is part of living 

and the sooner we are comfortable with it, the better prepared we are.

My favourite question on the form is: what song would you like sung at your funeral?

That’s easy. 

I think ‘Turn!Turn!Turn!’ by the Byrds would be absolutely brilliant. The music is 

catchy and the words are so appropriate…..

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn, And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die…A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal…a time to laugh, a time to weep……..

The funny thing is that there are no long periods of equilibrium. Just when you are

rejoicing over some happy event, another challenging situation rears its head. Yes, 

there is a season for everything and we change along the way. 

I was in the company of some friends who seemed to have everything.

Subconsciously we make comparisons as to why we are given a certain lot in life and 

why others seem to have it easy. So I took some time to digest the matter and came

away understanding myself better.

I like the phrase ‘Note to self’ - particularly note to my younger self. In retrospect, there 

are many things that I wished I had done or not done before. There are many worries 

that I need not have shouldered. There are many expectations that I need not have

 harboured. 

I was watching the finals of The Child Genius Competition 2016 over Channel 4 

( a British public-service television broadcaster) where children compete for the coveted 

trophy. I cringed when I saw how the mother of the champion,(who has put her career on hold as an obstetrician to focus on her daughter's education), 

fought to get the extra point for her child, even though she was probably in the right.

The Mail Online had headlines that went: Share

'Well done - you swindled your daughter to the final': Rhea's 'pushy mum' is

criticised after she got another child kicked off before daughter, 10, was

crowned winner of C4's Child Genius’

I share the same feelings as the many who took to berating the mum online such as 

‘It is a game. She is only ten years old. This is not going to define her life’.

But then again, if I had been her age with my ten year old up there on the podium 

battling for the coveted trophy, would I have acted the same?

People say that with age we grow wiser. But I think it is more of experiences that 

make us wiser and better people.

As I scroll down the most curious aforesaid form, there is this question on what

choice of a box I would like to be in - gold gilded, cedar wood or cushioned 

with taffeta silk?

My memories of Dracula movies tell me to avoid a certain shape altogether. 

And I think of trees being lumbered indiscriminately, so nothing wooden for me either. 

Since I love basketry, willow sounds like a good idea. 

This article was originally printed in the new Straits Times 2 October 2016. http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/161002nstnews/index.html#/23/

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN JOB AND VOCATION

My friend asked me the other day, ‘What’s the difference between a job and a vocation?’ 

To me, a job is something that you have to do in order to survive. A job is something short term and we often hear the phrase 'dead end job' when people talk about their work. There is no long lasting fulfilment or happiness from a job. It is not uncommon for us to outgrow one job quickly and then search for the next job.

On the other hand, a vocation is a calling. We also get deep satisfaction from our vocation. There is emphasis on the person's talents and abilities in the choice of a career. Some people know what their calling is - to be in service oriented work, to be a volunteer, to be involved in religious work...the list goes on.

But for others, we discover our vocation along the way. We can start off with a job which at the end of the day might still remain as a job. However, we can also start off with a job which later becomes a vocation.

I would like to think that my vocation is touching lives. Simply put, if there is something I can do to make a difference in another person's life, then that is my calling.

I had the privilege to work among young people in lecture halls and in organisations. It started out as a job but it ended as more than a job because thousands of lives passed through my hands.

That I believe provided the ground work on which experiences were built and are continuing to expand into community, religious and voluntary work.

There are many charity bodies asking for funding and these advertisements are regularly aired over the Raidio Teilifis Eireann (RTE) and British Broadcasting Corporation. (BBC)

The organisations are so diverse- ranging from saving a donkey from a life of hard work to sponsoring a child. It is difficult to know which ones are genuine. Far too often we hear of funds being misappropriated and directors embezzling money that is not theirs. People shy away from donating because of such bad reports.

Putting our doubts aside, Michael and I decided to sponsor a child. Now that our children are grown, we feel that we can spread our love to yet another child by committing to help her escape the poverty cycle. Poverty is very real. It is like a generational curse that depletes the land and starves its inhabitants.

So when Compassion set up a stand at a conference that we attended, the time was right for us to check it out. This charity organisation has been around long before I was born and to date has helped over 1.7 million children.

Independent research conducted by Dr Bruce Wydick has shown that former Compassion sponsored
children were more likely than their unsponsored peers to stay in school for longer, have salaried or white-collar jobs and be leaders in their communities.

We were given a kit with a little 4 year old girl's details. The African child has a smallish frame but very serious looking eyes. Her country is dependent on foreign aid where hundreds die because of politics and AIDS. She comes from a land where hot, dry Harmattan winds reduce visibility during winter and periodic droughts leave many hungry.

The moment we laid eyes on the photo, we were convinced that we would see her lead a more fulfilled life till she reaches 18. It is like adopting a child that we have not met and the feeling is amazing.

By exchanging letters and photos and offering love and encouragement, I hope we will be able to affirm her worth and provide hope to Odette that will last a lifetime.

Maybe one day we might get to hold her. 

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES, MALAYSIA 10 JULY 2016
 http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/07/157465/difference-between-job-and-vocation

http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/07/157465/difference-between-job-and-vocation

LESS IS MORE

‘There are two ways to get enough: One is to continue to accumulate more and more. The other is to desire less.’ – C.K. Chesterton, an English writer amidst many other vocations.

Somewhere between birth and death we are sucked into a zone called ‘More’. From needs we progress to wants and then suddenly without realising it, these wants become ‘must-haves’. And so we have more, need more and want more.

It was no shocker when I heard an advertisement on buying new tiles being aired recently. According to the sales man, the sole reason to get new tiles was to impress the neighbours!

Some of us have refrigerators that are bursting at its seams with new food, old food, good food, bad food and not surprisingly mouldy food that has escaped our attention in our eagerness to add more stuff into the fridge.

We buy bigger cars and bigger houses and bigger ‘everything’ as we get on in life and we have very good reasons why we do so and justify our purchases.

Suddenly, we are more senior in age and sanity bids us to downsize.

Just like human bodies shrink with age, we start to downsize the house because it has become a hazzle to mow that big lawn where we used to have birthday parties. We trade in the grand looking car for a smaller version so we can nip around easily in the city.

But the question is where do we start?

Enter the revolutionary KonMari Method for simplifying, organizing, and storing as spelt out step by step in ‘ The Life Changing Method of Tidying Up’ by Marie Kondo.

The New York Times  calls  this book entitled the greatest thing since sliced sushi.

The idea behind downsizing and minimalist living is living  very intentionally and allowing your surroundings and possessions to become an expression of yourself. 

Many of us have that jar of loose buttons or writing paper that we have carefully kept away on the shelf. In fact, they have been sitting on the shelf for quite a long time. Let’s face it – when do we actually need a spare button or hand write letters anymore? Even so, when one of our coat buttons falls off, we might not find an exact replica in the said jar.

To quote Marie Kondo, “the best way to choose what to keep and what to throw away is to take each item in one’s hand and ask: “Does this spark joy?” If it does, keep it. If not, dispose of it. This is not only the simplest but also the most accurate yardstick by which to judge.”

The end result?

When we own less stuff, it frees up the space around us. By clearing the clutter, we can enjoy the magic of a tidy home and calmness of the soul. If that is not real freedom, I don’t know what is.

When we focus on less jobs, it frees up the time that we have so we can pursue our passions and make real relationships. I heard of an elderly lady who suffered broken ribs because of an accident. After she was discharged from the hospital, a good rest would be most vital to speed her on the road to recovery. But alas, her healing was slow, because she was so used to doing almost everything in the house by herself despite having adult children who were  well able to help her out.

Minimalists like Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus, point out the personal anchors like debt and clutter that weigh us down and prevent us from moving forward. We need to hoist those anchors up if we want to sail.

I must now begin purging the cupboards and store room. Pronto.

This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 20 MARCH 2016
http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/160320nstnews/index.html#/23/

PLASTIC BEAUTY JUST DOESN'T CUT IT

When I brought a scarf to the counter the other day, I thought the salesgirl wore a beautiful shade of lipstick. So I paid her a compliment and said the colour on her lips looked lovely. Her response took me by surprise because she obviously had selective hearing skills. She smiled and said,

‘I’m glad you like the lips, I had them filled recently.’

I was both shocked and puzzled. I made a mental estimate of her age – probably 18 years old or younger. Surely, this is the prime of her life?

According to a local paper, the most popular non-surgical procedures among the 20 – 30-year-olds in Ireland are lip enhancements, fillers and botox.

Could an obsession with appearance result in body dysmorphic disorder?

I hear of accounts where the woman sneaks away to get certain parts of her body ‘fixed’ without telling the nearest and closest. Enshrouded in mystery, she exposes herself to certain risks. Apparently, women in Paris were having ‘lunchtime facelifts’ in the 1920s, even before botox came into the scene.

I wonder what makes a person go under the knife for cosmetic reasons alone? Could it be a boost to their self esteem? Could it be the idea that if they started cosmetic surgery at a younger age, the results would not be too drastic compared to when they go for a nip and a tuck when they are well over 50?

I remember laughing it off when my friend, who is also a plastic surgeon, persistently suggested that he could do wonders with my nose. My motto is if it is not broken, then don’t fix it. Besides, I have a very low threshold of pain and a high level of expectation. Imagine waking up from the operation to discover a very strange looking  nose. The idiom ‘cutting off the nose to spite the face’ would carry a new level of meaning altogether.

Sometimes a once-off experimentation with cosmetic surgery could also become an obsession.

We just need to look around and see how artistes and film stars succumb to numerous types of plastic surgery with some unfortunately ending up with a freeze frame face (a.k.a. ‘bat face’) and Ronald McDonald’s eyebrows.

In ‘The Love Song of Alfred J. Prufrock’ by T.S. Elliot, the poet delves into regret, frustration and an awareness of mortality as he observes how age has caused ‘a bald spot in the middle of his (my) hair’. No one likes to grow old or look old. Growing old seems to be synonymous with aching bones and popping pills. Looking old seems to make you feel ugly.

But then again what is beauty and what is age?

It is difficult for the aging person to tell herself that she is beautiful because the media tells her otherwise. The perception of beauty and age is also very much influenced by societal mores and culture. Some will never reveal their age while others remain at 40, year after year.  We gasp at the first strand of grey hair and the onset of wrinkles. It is like going to bed and feeling like you are 21, and then waking up to discover that you are 60. Where did the years go?

Towards the end of her life, Audrey Hepburn was asked about her beauty secrets. She replied most graciously, ‘

‘For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people. For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry. For beautiful hair, let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day. People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed. Never throw out anybody. The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole. True beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows.’

Beautifully said.

This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 6 MARCH 2016 http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/03/131264/plastic-beauty-just-doesnt-cut-it

TAKING TIME TO BE SILENT

I was unusually silent for a number of days and that was terribly inconvenient. Well, laryngitis does not discriminate and I was reduced to mousey whispers at best. How true it is that you never miss something until it's gone, in this case, my voice.

To humour myself, I attributed it to the possibility of viruses hidden on the walls of WW II underground tunnels as I had just returned from a historic tour of underground Berlin. I may not be too far wrong as the tour guide did mention that the walls had not been repainted, so think ancient Egyptian tombs that harboured yesteryear's deadly germs.

The beloved who always wanted to live a quiet life said, 'I had a quiet weekend' . The strange thing was, everyone else whispered to me too and that was really funny.

But there is another type of silence that is a conscious act.

I’m talking about entering the Room of Silence (Raum der Stille) in Berlin.  Located on the north side of Brandenburg Gate, this room has been there for 15 years. It offers a place of solace for Berliners and visitors to sit down in silence and relax.

It is a pretty small room where visitors can pick up a symbolic stone and remain quiet for some time. There is a wall hanging by Hungarian artist Ritta Hager on the theme of ‘light penetrating the darkness’. This room resonates the call for tolerance between all nationalities and beliefs.

This reminds me of the necessity to be silent and to reflect. Seemingly, there is scientific evidence that shows that adding 30 minutes of silence to a daily routine can reduce stress.

Silence has become a stranger to most of us. People are uneasy when we are quiet and assume that something is wrong. There are those who talk non-stop, as if they are afraid of being silent during a conversation.

I believe that most of us get out of bed in the morning and almost immediately reach out for our mobile phones and start checking the messages, alerts or calls that were left there while we were sleeping.

We rush to the shower, make a cup of coffee and switch on the ‘noise’ around us – be it the radio or the television. Then we get into our cars and listen to the airplay or our favourite music. When we reach the office, we talk and work or listen to more talk.

If it is not external noise that we deal with, there is also a stream of internal noises in our heads. Our minds start ticking and we start planning or worrying or arguing and justifying with our own thoughts.

Certainly, there is a lot of chatter going on.

Choosing a specific period of the day to be quiet can actually help us to deal with life’s challenges better as we capture the dynamic and dissonance in our hearts and the world that we observe. The adage that we are human beings who have somehow transmogrified into human doings is very true.

It is very strange but when I stand back in silence and reflect, things fall into perspective. I am in control of my emotions and circumstances rather than be controlled by them. I can be centred and still while everything else around me rushes by.

My immediate responses to challenging situations or ugly exchange of words morph into a different level of tolerance and understanding. Somehow the hurt inflicted upon me the night before does not sting as much. Because the rhythm of the body slows down, there is rest.

Close the door, breathe and then spend some precious moments in silence before the chatter.

It is time to power down intentionally. 

It is time to unplug.

This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA  21 FEBRUARY 2016 http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/02/128644/taking-time-be-silent

THE RARE ACT OF CHIVALRY

It was on a regular day that my daughter’s car tyre needed to be filled with air. So, on the way back from town, we turned into a petrol kiosk that had an air pump. She removed the valve stem cap, checked the air pressure, stretched the hose around to the closest tyre and inserted the hose into the valve.

It was then that I heard someone holler at us.

I looked up and there was a male driver on his way out of the petrol kiosk. He asked, ‘Are you alright? Do you need help?’

I gave him the thumbs up to indicate that everything was fine and he waved and moved on. We were chuffed as that took us by complete surprise. Either we looked ridiculous man-handling an air hose or he belonged to the last batch of those who practise the chivalric code.

The chivalric code, is a code of conduct associated with the medieval institution of knighthood which developed between 1170 and 1220.  This code contains virtues such as mercy, courage, valour, fairness and protection of the weak and the poor. An example of this in the twentieth century is protecting women from harm and helping them when needed.

In this part of the world, there are many who still pull out a chair or hold out the door for me. There are still others who say sorry or excuse me when I am blocking the way. Before I leave the counter after having purchased something, there is always a broad smile, a thank you and a general greeting to have a good day, in a very natural and genuine voice.

When I travelled alone on some of my working trips to parts of Europe and the States, it was always a delight when some random fellow passenger helped me retrieve my cabin luggage. There was no shoving or pushing to try to get out of the plane as quickly as possible.

Imagine the horror when I travel on budget airlines in some countries where some passengers are totally unruly. They let their children run up and down the aisle and it is worse if a clique has boarded the plane together. They will talk loudly and use pungent headache relieving ointment with no consideration for the rest of the passengers. Before you know it they are all rushing to get out before the plane actually lands and the poor stewardess has to constantly plead with them to sit down and put their seat belts on again. I can’t imagine anyone helping me with my luggage during such flights. Both chivalry and good manners are dead here.

Compare this to the sinking of the Titanic where the majority of the survivors were women and children. Research of the incident has shown that many male passengers refused to enter the lifeboats or depart the ship until they knew all women aboard had been brought to safety.

There are some who adhere strongly to the feminist liberation movement and argue that we need no help from the physically stronger men and that we are no damsels in distress. Women can fly planes or mow the lawn if they wanted to.

There are many arguments as to why there is a lack of chivalry these days.

Some contend that this is due to boys being brought up not to respect women enough. Others think it is a result of the post-feminist backlash. According to an article entitled ‘Chivalry is dead and feminism is to blame’ by Martin Daubney in the Telegraph, men have become afraid of helping women lest they appear patronising. The writer gives the example of the fear of offering to help change a tyre and getting a slap for being sexist. Even offering a seat in a bus to a perceived pregnant lady (only to be reprimanded that he is calling her fat ) or to a pensioner (and be accused of making a big deal of her advancing age) can lend a chivalrous man in trouble.

                                     

In most parts of the world, chivalry has a weaker emphasis in today’s modern society than in history. As for me, even if I could be an astronaut and walk on the moon, a little help in time of need is most welcome.

This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 14 FEBRUARY 2016
http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/02/127356/rare-art-chivalry

MEMORIES OF SNACK FOOD FOR THE SOUL

It’s very strange but every time Chinese New Year comes around, I think about food. Yes, like any true Malaysian, I think about food most of the time but during this time, I certainly think about it more.

It is not just craving for what I can eat or what I will eat, but it is usually something that I’ve eaten during my childhood formative years. Call me an old soul but yesteryear’s food and drinks seem to taste so much better than what is served these days at the fast food restaurant.

Maybe it is the nostalgia that comes with it. Somehow, when I attach good memories to the delectable morsels, they automatically become more tasty.

Researchers say that even during a simple associative taste, the brain operates the hippocampus to produce an integrated experience. In other words,  there is a connection between the parts of the brain responsible for taste memory and the parts responsible for processing the memory of the time and location of the sensory experience.

There are some things that I’ve enjoyed as a child that are no longer available, at least not in the way they were packaged. I’m talking about the Fraser and Neave carbonated orange drink that came in glass bottles. I can still buy the drink now but in plastic PET bottles and aluminium cans.

We didn’t have a refrigerator then so my dad would put the bottles in the cement water tub to keep them cool - the same water tub that held the water and the dipper for our showers. Imagine some lovely mosaic design at the bottom of a swimming pool. The bottles lying at the bottom of the tub gave a similar effect – more so because I could drink as much orange as I wanted during the Chinese New Year.  This fizzy drink tasted extremely good with Ngan Yin Hand Brand Peanuts from Menglembu, Perak.

These empty bottles were then returned to the seller for more drinks. To an overactive child’s mind, the glass bottles conjured images of orphans (from Charles Dickens’ novels) who must have cleaned and scrubbed them in work houses under the likes of Mr Bumble. I read the abridged versions of the novels as a child and felt sorry that I could drink the juice while others had to clean the bottles.

There are some biscuits too that conjure a picture of delight.

Iced gem biscuits – small biscuits topped with pink, yellow, green or white hard sugar icing. Originally the biscuit bottoms were made by Huntley and Palmer of Reading, Britain in the 1850s and the icing section was introduced in 1910. Few of us could afford imported biscuits during that era and so we bought the local substitute.

I remember getting them from the Tengku Mariam Primary School tuckshop. They were good value for me because I could get a bag of them for a few sen. Somehow my mother frowned upon them because she said they would give me worms.

I enjoyed the crispy twisted biscuits as well as the bolster-like biscuits, usually given to relatives during weddings. I wonder what they symbolise –they probably represent the new couple’s unity and prosperity.

The interesting thing about food is that each race or clan has its own delicacies. The fun part is that we mix with people from all races and also those who speak different dialects and we learn to enjoy their delicacies as well. 

I speak the Teochew dialect and I miss traditional delicacies like the Png Kueh (rice cake that is shaped like a peach) which is as scarce as hen’s teeth now.  Learning how to make them from recipes over the internet is never quite the same as the ones my parents bought for me from the market.

The best part is every time we return to Malaysia, my friends will bring us round to all these fantastic food joints to savour all that we have missed. That is the beauty of friendship and I cannot be grateful enough for such lovely homecoming treats.

This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 7 February 2016           http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/02/126199/memories-snack-food-soul

  

TEN RULES TO LIVE YOUR LIFE BY

The thing about resolutions is that they are all done in good faith. I cannot remember the resolutions I made when the year changed from 2014 to 2015 and therefore can safely say that I neither honoured nor broke any.

So with 2016 I think I’d rather list down 10 rules of day-to-day living that I will continue to abide by because they have served me well thus far.

Rule 1:

I DON’T WORRY ABOUT WHO DOESN’T LIKE ME BECAUSE I’M TOO BUSY LOVING THE PEOPLE WHO LOVE ME.

This is a conscious act of the will and I find it very effective. The underlying principle is life is short and it is wonderful to be surrounded by people who care for you and to be able to love and care for others in return. I have so many new and not so new friends who are genuinely interested in being concerned about one another. The bottom line is I cannot please everyone and there’ll always be someone who will find fault, real or imagined, with me. So why let someone else’s myopic view of you spoil your day?

Rule 2:

IN EVERYTHING I DO, I GIVE IT MY BEST SHOT. NO HALF MEASURES.

I agree with this wholeheartedly - be it going to the office, delving into a hobby or doing voluntary work. I find that some people are ‘embarrassed’ with their own quality of work and think that it is not good enough. For me, if  I’ve pitched in my best effort, then it is certainly good enough for myself and others, if not excellent.

Rule 3:

COMMITMENT, RESPONSIBILITY, DELIVERY: ACTIONS, NOT WORDS.

It is easy to make empty promises and saying yes when we mean no. I have learnt that if I say yes, then it becomes my responsibility to deliver. I have also learnt that it is not easy to say no. When others expect you to say yes to a favour and the answer is no, more often than not, they become miffed. At the end of the day, it is more important to be honest with yourself and not take more than you can handle or are comfortable with.

Rule 4:

BEFORE I STEP OUT OF MY HOUSE (EVEN FOR A LOAF OF BREAD), I MUST LOOK PRESENTABLE.

I’ve always believed in the quality of the product and its packaging. A good product looks better if it is packaged beautifully.

Rule 5:

WHEN UNSURE, IT IS BETTER TO BE OVERDRESSED THAN UNDERDRESSED.

So far, I have not gone wrong on this point. It is always pleasant to the eye to look good and feel good.

Rule 6:

EAT EVERYTHING IN MODERATION. EXERCISE IF I CAN.

Like most Malaysians I enjoy good food. Tastes change with age and sweet things do not lure me as much as savoury stuff and I guess I eat most things that walk or swim. Occasional treats are most welcome but gluttony or indulgence is not. When the weather is good, I take my walks.

Rule 7:

GIVE OF MY TIME, TALENTS AND MONEY. THEY ARE NOT MINE TO BEGIN WITH.

I have to remind myself of this regularly lest I think I can bring them to the grave with me.

Rule 8:

LET GO OF THE THINGS I CANNOT CHANGE.

Never enter marriage thinking you can change a person. There are many things or people that we cannot agree with but it is not my job to change them. The only changes I can make are within myself.

Rule 9:

BE GRATEFUL, NEVER TAKE FOR GRANTED THE PEOPLE OR THE THINGS THAT WE HAVE AROUND US.

It is so very important to appreciate our family and friends because there is tendency to forget the people who are around us all the time. The words ‘I love you’ or ‘thank you’ must never be in short supply.

Rule 10:

LOVE WITH PASSION. LIVE WITH FOCUS. FORGIVE WITH DETERMINATION.

This is the rule that holds up all the others. I don’t believe in holding back love when I care for a person even if I have gone through bad experiences. I wake up being grateful that I have the opportunity to live another day in good health and surrounded by warmth. Most of all I’m determined to forgive others, because if I choose to hold on to grudges and hurts, I am the one who is most trapped.

                                 Wishing all readers a happy new year!

This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA, 3 JANUARY 2016
http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/160103nstnews/index.html#/23/

SAVING THE BEST FOR GUESTS

My mother had this set of dainty blue glass plates with fluted edges. They were very pretty to look at, and it was just that, to look at from afar as they sat in the glass cupboard, reserved for the guest.

And it is not only in my parents’ generation.

I find myself using an eclectic array of mismatched plates and cups while the Newbridge silver cutlery and Nicolas Mosse ceramic ware sit grandly in the cupboard, waiting for the occasion.

I can safely say that in almost every household, there are at least two sets of items - one for daily use and another set aside for the guest. It does not take much to guess that the bone china tableware or fine linen or even the box of chocolates with exquisite fillings is set aside for the guest.

I prefer to think that the reason behind this age-old practice lies in the importance of hospitality (we want to give our guests the best that we have ) rather than to impress.

But then again we have different types of guests.

There is the guest who can immediately recognise Orla Kiely’s stem design on a mug. She will say, ‘I love this design and coffee certainly tastes better from this mug’.  That statement alone makes it all the more worthwhile for the hostess to have bought and set aside the mug for her.

There is also the guest who does not differentiate between a Royal Doulton plate or one bought from the two euro shop, as long as what is being served on the plate tastes good. But that doesn’t deter the hostess from keeping aside special crockery for her guest either.

Over the years, we had invited many friends over for lunch, tea and dinner. During such times the Venetian lace table cloth made an appearance.  The table was adorned with a centre piece of flowers and candles, artfully arranged. Even the water in the jug had slices of floating lemon.

The reverse is true too.

When we get invited to our friends’ houses, there would be a fine display of tableware and food. One husband even commented, ‘You must come more often. Then only will she (the wife) make my favourite apple crumble.’

That got me thinking.

Do we treat our guests better than ourselves? When will we ever get to use those nice plates, towels and such?

Maybe now that we have toiled and laboured over so many dinner parties, we can sit down and treat ourselves as guests. Likewise, having purchased and wrapped so many beautiful presents, we can start buying ourselves items good enough to be gift wrapped and given away.

Just the other day I meandered down the crockery aisle in a shop around the corner. I saw a lovely porcelain mug with farm animals on it and it came in a box. So I took the box and the mug to the cashier.

She asked, ‘Is it a gift for someone else?’

I looked at her and said, ‘No, I am going to drink from the mug all by myself.’

Then there was another day when I fell in love with a Karen Millen dress. When I took it to the counter, the cashier trying to make small talk, asked.

‘Is this for a special occasion?’

I looked at her and said, ‘No occasion. I’m buying this because I’m living life.’

The expression of shock on the faces of both the cashiers told me that they hadn’t heard those lines before.

This article was originally published in the NEW STRAITS TIMES 22 NOVEMBER 2015 http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/151122nstnews/index.html#/23/

THE TRUE BURDEN OF HANDBAGS

I can abstain from most things but there is one thing that I cannot do without. The handbag. Not just one handbag, but I must unabashedly confess, a closet full of them.

The only way to get rid of some is to give them away but then after doing that, I crave for more to fill that gaping void and so the cycle of buying and giving away repeats itself. It used to be shoes but since corns, blisters and bunions appeared, I’ve resigned myself to sensible ones, which sad to say are certainly not the trendiest looking shoes.

Even as a child I love to toggle a little handbag across my arm when I went shopping with my mother. It was the perfect place to house the occasional treat or the handkerchief for the runny nose. (Yes, in those days we used embroidered handkerchiefs that were neatly ironed)

The fact that a handbag can be used to keep almost anything is also fodder for spoofs.

In the return of Mr Bean Episode Two, we see the infamous funny man at a restaurant. First, he writes his own birthday card, and orders a ‘Steak Ta-ta’. He finds he doesn’t quite enjoy the steak and so secretly disposes of it in the ashtray, the vase, the bun, the sugar bowl, the violinist’s trousers and yes, in another diner’s handbag!

Sometimes I wonder what people carry in their very big handbags. Maybe a big handbag is like Doraemon’s  front pocket that houses everything imaginable. Or it may be like Felix the Cat’s magic bag of wonders.

If clothes maketh the man, then handbags maketh the lady.

I would like to think that what we have in our bags reveal a lot about who we are. The usual stuff that we carry would be the purse, tissues, spectacles, pen, notebook and lipstick for a start.

The contents of bags we carry reflect the responsibilities we hold. A graduate school student’s oversized satchel contains her laptop and notes and a young mother on her day out with the baby probably has disposable diapers in her bag as well. When I was doing free lance reporting, I even had a pair of beautiful shoes in the bag as I hopped from bus to train in my trainers.

The mind associates the things that we see lacking in our surroundings with the things that we must provide for ourselves. For example, I can hardly find regular chilli sauce nor toothpicks at the café tables here.  So, before I leave the house, I find myself putting strange stuff into my bag - sachets of chilli sauce, toothpicks, dental floss and other unmentionable things. Sometimes the things that I put into my bag are not for myself  alone but for the others that I’m going out with, just in case that friend, that child or the beloved has forgotten to bring. An extra pack of tissues always comes in handy.

So what goes into the handbag often spells practicality and multi tasking.

Just the other day I was out at lunch when I found that I simply could not finish the copious amounts of food in front of me. Needless to say, my eyes were bigger than my belly when I saw the menu. In most places here, diners do not bring home leftovers. Whatever is left on the plate goes into the bin. That certainly would be a no-no for me so out came a container from the handbag.

The beloved said I had to do it discreetly but I said I have lived long enough to do necessary things covertly without a shade of shame.

Apparently the average handbag weighs  1 – 2 kg even though some may weigh a bit more. The trend now is to have a little bag for essential stuff so that the little bag can be taken out and transferred into any other bag. Small is the new big according to fashion gurus. Sometimes it is not just one small bag but a few smaller bags in a big bag as women opt for the modular approach.

To turn all philosophical, what we put into our handbag can be an object lesson in itself. When we actually give the contents of our bag a good look, we can repack it. Throw out the unnecessary stuff so that we are not carrying a burden but a thing of beauty instead.

That is what is going to take us ahead, not weigh us down. 

Source:THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY NEW STRAITS TIMES  25 October 2015  http://www.nst.com.my/news/2015/10/true-burden-handbags