Correction Tape

Holy schmoly!

Now look how long since I’ve written here. Not from the lack of trying of course. There have been several drafts of half-written posts that lie in a folder collecting plenty of dust. One cobweb here, another over there. Whoops! I think I see Charlotte lurking at the sides. Hello there Charlotte! How’s Wilbur?

Sigh. I guess I am, or rather was, suffering from a severe case of writer’s block. And it worsens with each day I don’t write. So today I decide to plunge into writing again. Something longer than my usual one-liner tweets. Maybe a few lines. Oh heck, let’s get wild and write some paragraphs!

And so what’s been buzzing on my mind of late? Correction tape.

You see, sometime last week, I had to confiscate a whole bunch of correction tapes from my primary 6 students. It is banned in the PSLE and I was trying to train them not to use correction liquid or tape in their daily work. And my goodness, what a handful I got just from a class of five! Some had two in their pencil cases, a kid had three bulky ones. And all of them were very very reluctant to give these little contraptions up.

“Cher, will I get it back?”

“No, I don’t have. Really cher! Okay okay…here!”

“OMG but Queen Naweera, whhyyyy?”

It’s cute. It’s pretty funny too. But it also got me thinking about the over-reliance to the correction tape. I mean, I definitely do see the appeal. Who wouldn’t want to be able to write freely, and have the option to blank it out when we make a mistake instantly? Easy peasy.

 Misspell a word, no worries! Correction tape to the rescue!

Wrong sentence structure? Hah! Mr Super Wonderful Tape will fix that!

*krrrrkkk krrrrrkkk kkkkrrrrrrkkkkkkkkk*

And soon enough I see a long white strip, like a rolled-out red carpet, ready for new words to traverse its silky surface.

I grew up in a time when correction liquid and tape were pretty much inexistent, if not, banned. And so I never got used to it. I was clumsy with the correction tape. It kept flaking off or run off course. Probably cos I was a lefty and there aren’t many things that are designed for our advantage (damn you iphone 4!). Anyway, I abandoned the idea of ever using it in my writing. It was much too troublesome.

And that did me a lot of good. Because I couldn’t freely blank out my mistakes, I had to make sure I didn’t make too many mistakes. I thought before I wrote. I visualised what I was going to write, how it’s going to sound like, what the spelling was like, before I dared to put that pen on the paper. I learnt to continually read back what I had written before continuing with my prose.  If I made a mistake, I would cross it out neatly, and write the ammendment either next to it or above it. As a result of this training, I made minimal mistakes in my writing. I learnt to write quickly and accurately.

That was how my friends and I rolled. We survived.

I remember back in TKGS, our literature teacher Mr Connor had invited Philip Jeyaratnam to talk about Abraham’s Promise, a book we studied for our O Levels. It was a good session, and at the end of it when he left, Mr Connor distinctly pointed out to us how Philip had always taken time to think before giving a response to our questions. He then advised us to learn from Philip, to always think before we speak, and not shoot our mouths off like the teenage idiots we were then. It was a mark of a mature and responsible adult, and so he appealed for us to aspire to that level of maturity.

Pretty good advice if you ask me.

Amazing what we can learn from correction tape eh?

Little Cove

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Can I come in for a while?”

Sure I said and I shuffled a little to the left to make room for him. He crouched low and crossed his legs pretzel-like and planted himself down. He hunched his shoulders up and hugged his legs tight, rather awkwardly. The space was small and he was rather tall. Quite a place you’ve got here, he said, looking around the little cove I had made for myself. I thanked him and showed him the things I had with me enthusiastically. I showed him the large red throw rug which we were sitting on, the multi-coloured quilted comforter draped lazily on the side, the orange glow of the little lamp I had bought recently and an old electric mini fan that was whirring softly away. It was not much but it certainly was cosy.

What do you do to entertain yourself, he asked.

I showed him the two novels I had bought months back but not read yet, my journal and my sketchbook. I said I rotate among the three. Read, write, draw. Draw, write, read. While listening to some music. And in between, I sleep. Why, that’s very simple, he said. I smiled. I told him that simple was all I needed now.

We chatted for a bit.  I offered him some milk and cookies and we listened to some new tracks I had.

After a while, he asked, “How long are you going to be here?”

I shrugged. I was not sure. Out there is a lot noisy and a little scary. Everyone is angry or upset or things are just not going right. You just don’t want to be loud. You just want to be quiet for a while. It feels like war outside, but here it feels safer. You feel like you can’t possibly screw up here. What you do here can’t affect what’s out there.

You’re running away again, he said.

I’m not. I will come out again. Two books aren’t going to last very long. I just need to pause for a while. To recharge. You have no idea how tiring it has been. It’s been exhausting. So very exhausting.

We then remained quiet for a while. Somewhere in the distance I heard a bird chirp. It was not yet dawn.

Can I stay? he asked, after a long pause.

I thought for a bit, studied him a little and wondered if he could. Not the permission to be there because he was always welcome there, but be physically and emotionally detached for a while with me.

I told him he could, but only if he could follow the rules. If he couldn’t, then no.

We stayed in silence for a while letting  the music fill us up. We chatted for a bit, munched on some cookies and laughed a little. Every so often, we would nervously peek outside through the flaps of the tent. We were both waiting for dawn to come.

From Blog Photos Mac

People who survived 9/11

The head of a company survived
9/11 because his son started kindergarten.

Another fellow was alive because it was
his turn to bring donuts.

One woman was late because her
alarm clock didn’t go off in time.

One was late because of being stuck on the NJ Turnpike
because of an auto accident.

One of them
missed his bus.

One spilled food on her clothes and had to take
time to change.

One’s
car wouldn’t start.

One went back to
answer the telephone.

One had a
child that dawdled
and didn’t get ready as soon as he should have.

One couldn’t
get a taxi.

The one that struck me was the man
who put on a new pair of shoes that morning,
took the various means to get to work but before he got there,
he developed a blister on his foot.
He stopped at a drugstore to buy a Band-Aid.
That is why he is alive today.

Now when I am
stuck in traffic,
miss an elevator,
turn back to answer a ringing telephone,
all the little things that annoy me,
I think to myself,
this is exactly where
God wants me to be
at this very moment.

Next time your morning seems to be
going wrong,
the children are slow getting dressed,
you can’t seem to find the car keys,
you hit every traffic light,
don’t get mad or frustrated;

God is at work watching over you.

May God continue to bless you
with all those annoying little things
and may you remember their possible purpose.

–Taken from Shazi’s blog–

The operation was postponed to next week because my sister suddenly fell sick. I hope it’s a blessing in disguise. Please continue to pray and hope that everything goes well in the next two weeks. Thank you. Amin.

Makes Sense to Me

Temporary Scars

Courtesy of Sri for the introduction.

Cun Saja

For one Safraz Ali.

 

Adopt-a-Housewife

I have this absolutely awesome idea!

In which I believe can make a whole lot of difference. What say, we each adopt a housewife?

It can be this amazing scheme in which each young woman or even a young man, can adopt a middle-aged housewife, who has stopped working, or has never worked in her entire life, and help her find a better meaning of life! We can bring them shopping, visit museums, watch movies and avant garde films and do something they have never dreamt before doing like roller blading! We can teach them basic skills like how to use the computer, how to type documents, how to explore the Internet and maybe even find some form of work in which they can do in their free time. We can help them make social contacts and forge friendships with other women in society, and together, contribute to the community in one way or another! Get them away from the tube and the sandiwaras! Explore! Breathe! And take charge!

The aim? To give them happiness, a personal aim and ultimately, independence from their husbands.

I think Marc Cherry had it right when he first conceptualised the series Desperate Housewives. Women, who marry and settle for a life in the home to tend the household and children, more often than not, degenerate into an almost unrecognisable form of dependency and blind trust for their husbands. Their lives revolve around the home. They get money only from their spouse. They are bounded by their family.

So what happens when their husbands screw up? What if they leave these wives in a lurch? What if they have affairs? What if they marry another secretly? What if they empty out their joint accounts? What if the children are still young? What if the husbands unexpectedly passes on before them? What then?

It’s sad, but it’s true. And many across the world have experienced this. Many in Singapore too. Not as glamorously or dramatic as what is depicted in Desperate Housewives. But definitely real. Painfully real. The strong survive, but the dependent just flail in desperation… It isn’t easy to pick up. It isn’t easy to move on. It isn’t easy to start again.

Which is why I think my awesome idea works. Young women, don’t abandon your elders. They’ve been where you’ve been and can share a lot. If you listen.

But older generation can too learn from the young. The spirit of adventure, the feel of independence and the awareness that you can do anything. Well, that’s what I think anyway.

It could just work.

Four Scores

“Four scores and seven years ago, our fathers brought on this continent, a new nation…”

Okay, so it isn’t really four scores and seven years ago. More like just four years. But I’m betting you, it was some of the best four years these people ever had. Who am I talking about? Why the Class of 2009 of course! Who, I’m proud to say, is graduating this very week.

I clearly remember four years ago, entering the unknown depths of NUS like a scared little freshman that I was. I barely knew anyone, considering how most of my friends had abandoned me for universities overseas *glares* (you know who you are!) and I barely knew what to do either. I went for random talks, took random modules and for a while, I was a free radical roaming the hallways absorbing college life.  Yet slowly and steadily, I got to know people and I made some really awesome friends! I remember meeting Su, the first friend I made in NUS, in that scary little office, and was just amazed how cool she was. I remember meeting Ayu in the PBM Welcome Tea, awkward as ever, with me in barely-can-make-it-Malay, but how we bonded over that! I remember making awesome friends while in MS…under the hot sun selling ice-cream and till now, we meet for lunches, dinners and laughter. I remember having awesome lunches with Nadia in the Deck…when it really was the Deck, and chilling and chatting by at the Forum. I remember weekly English meetings with Christopher, I remember Econs lectures with Liyana and Valerie. I remember Southeast Asia tutorials with Arafat and I remember mugging in the library for finals while checking out my crushes with Bhavna. It was the one year I initiated myself as a student of NUS, and that kinda set the tone for the rest of my years here. Little caterpillar soared high…

Yeah, it was one heck of a good year. Many of you would have your own set of memories that you remember your undergraduate life with. I can’t help but feel a little sad for not graduating with you people at this time had I just stuck with Arts instead of transferring to Architecture. In a way, I feel rather incomplete. We entered together. It’s sad not to have left together at the same time to conquer the world.

So to friends (as always in alphabetical order) Anjana, Arly, Ayu, Ben, Bhavna, Charlene, Christopher, Cindy, Crystal Chin, Denise, Desmond, Ekta, Fahmee, Fatma, Farah Miller, Farhana Alhabsyi, Farhana Mos, Gamar, Hafizah, Kei, Liyana, Mansi, Nabillah, Nadia, Natasha Fernando, Natasha Mitter, Nastassia, Nurul, Pee Wee, Ridhwan, Safraz, Shah, Su, Su Mansor, Sumaya, Vanessa, Vasud, Wesley, Zubz and to everyone I’ve met but didn’t get a chance to write it out here…

CONGRATULAOTINS!!!

No doubt, you’ll guys do great. Of course with me, it’ll be much more rockin’ fun lah. But what to do, what to do… hahaha

But yes, you WILL do great. And I have full confidence that you’ll rock the world indeed!

So Congratulations again to NUS Class of 2009! Here’s wishing you all the best, loaded with hugs, kisses and endless supply of rainbows!

“It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they have, thus far, so nobly carried on. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honoured dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation shall have a new birth of freedom and that this government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth”

Abraham Lincoln

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai

I am so tempted. But that means being ridiculously poor after. But I’m so so tempted.

Buzzed!

I’m buzzed on voltage!

No wait…like seriously. There is this drink at Gloria Jeans called ‘Voltage’ that is *cue mat accent* POOOWWWEERRR  SIAKK. How powerful you ask? So powerful I don’t think I can do coffee for like the next week and a half! And you’re talking about ME here baby! ME! It’s a potent drink not meant for pansies like YOU people out there, aight? MuahaHaha

Right. So besides that lame introduction, what else have I been up to? Nothing much really. Although it has been an emotionally exhausting two-weeks I’ve faced in a really long time. My mom wasn’t feeling well and was in and out of the hospital repeatedly. I blame it on the meds. Sigh. But many thanks to those who have shown concern and support. And who were very understanding of the many cancellations and concessions that had to be made. I apologise for the trouble and I really do appreciate your understanding. My mom is feeling much better Alhamdullilah. So YAY! =D

So most of the time, I’m at home being the nice little homemaker that I can be. Cleaning and sometimes cooking. And of course taking care of my niece and nephew whenever my sister comes over. Okay, by “take care” I really do mean just play and entertain. Cos that’s what I’m good at. Heh. But OMG Adam has grown and is soooo cute! Babies are cute! Ultimate! And I can so tell we are gonna be awesome bros. Yes, from our intellectual conversations that we have one-on-one. Er, the one where I rattle, and he stares intensely, making a few comments of his own. Haha I totally love the faces that he make too. And sure, his attempts at giving me hickeys when he’s hungry is hilarious. Sorry baby, but I don’t have your mommy’s legandary breasts. I am simply incapable of producing milk.  Unless you give me a cow. Or at least the supermarket.

Spending time with the family just makes me even more appreciative of the wonderful family I have and love. Good times, bad times, we’re all here for each other. Alhamdullilah.

And because even in hard times, we need to breathe and dance a little, here are two of my favourite TV characters to go…

Dum dee dum dum dum. Just dance.