Life, Laughter and Everything Else

'Awkward silences' are something that I have grown increasingly conscious off over the past two fewyears. You are in a conversation with one or more friends at one moment and suddenly nobody has anything to say. What follows is the extension of time, when every second feels longer than it is supposed to last. The unease is mutual and everybody knows the other person feels it too. Handphones come out, messages are checked, until someone breaks the silence with a new topic. I have tried to find explanations to this phenomenon, that for some reason I do not remember experiencing before university. Was it due to a lack of openess, where the audience felt obliged to clutch onto their own private thoughts and not share it with anyone else, lest it tarnish their image? Was it due to the growing inability to ask questions about the other, perhaps as a result of a lack of interest in the lives of others? Or was it because we think we know everything there is to know from the person...

A friend of mine asked me today why I was not blogging as much as I used to.  "An unwillingness to preach", I replied. Though it was not like this before, before Sweden that is. I am unsure what triggered it, this cessation of will to force my opinion onto others. Perhaps it was the chapter on the philosopher John Locke, during my Engineering Ethics class, that emphasised the individual right to 'life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness'. Something about that resonated with me, mainly the idea that my definition of life and happiness does not and should not extend to everyone else, for what works for me need not work for you. When I lost that strong conviction in the unconventional idea, along with it was gone the inspiration to express that idea.  Not that it led to a dearth of beliefs in me. I still hold steadfast to the same old values that I used to preach, until anyone can prove me wrong. Just that it does not matter to me anymore if you search for...

Sometimes, the prospect of living in this world scares me. Today I rallied against my father in a heated discussion of practicality versus idealism. While I staunchly held onto my belief that one needs a balance of both to lead a contented life, a part of me resonated with his opinion what Friedrich Nietzsche once summed up in a single sentence,  "If life is a struggle for existence in which the fittest survive, then strength is the ultimate virtue and weakness is the ultimate fault". I knew this for I had the misfortune of learning it the hard way during my National Service. There I saw how virtues of fairness and altruism were overpowered by the selfish need to make one's own life better and easier, even if it was at the expense of others. If these acts were limited to the minority, one could keep some faith in humanity, but when you see almost everyone, even those you consider friends, tireless in the pursuit of self preservation, you know the ideal world of m...

'Batman in jail' The news screamed. The world howled. Half out of irony. Half to fill their empty lives. Be he couldn't care. At least behind these bars,  he found solace. Solace from the cringing mockery the raised eyebrows and the shameful recognition. At least behind these bars all he had to reconcile with, was the memoris of  past, a struggle to be normal. To be known for whom he was and not for a name so carelessly given. At least behind these bars he could hope to hear a number that he could stand up and accept as his own.

When quizzed by her friends, my sister once admitted to her friends in an all casual manner that she might one day enter into an arranged marriage. Her friends, predominantly Chinese, was revolted by this idea to the extent that information about any passing Indian guy who came on their radar was immediately relayed to her. Of course, when friends arrange it, it is all right. My dear non-Indian friends, before I proceed, let me clear one misconception. Arranged marriage is not forced marriage. In arranged marriage, you have a choice (and sadly so does the opposite number). What makes it particularly distinct are parents play matchmaker and decisions have to be made faster. Which means you don't play base. You just go straight to the home run.  Personally, I was not in favour of it, though that was 4 years ago, when I came into university expecting life to be like American Pie. But God had other plans for me. Not satisfied of putting me through an all male secondary school ...

What is hard work? Is it the burning of the midnight candle? Is it the sacrifice of life's pleasures  for a goal deemed worthy? Or as Ali said, suffering now to live like a champion later? I thought I knew what it was. I thought I had tasted its bitterness. Until they reached down and grabbed the bar And set it so high it disappeared behind the clouds. Now I preach from the ground, of the pleasures of being rooted to the Earth. Though I suspect it is but a fear to keep me from striving for the limits of the sky. Will I ever dare to take on the suffering and the pain and live to enjoy the fruits of toil? Will I ever know What is hard work? 

Perhaps any writer's greatest motivation to write is a strong emotion about a certain issue. I woke up with one today, thanks to a conversation I had the earlier night with a friend whose perpetually sombre face, cracking, deep voice and the slow, measured pace of talk exuded a sense of immense gravity to everything he said. The conversation starter was when I told him that I wanted a work life balance in my future career, to which he replied, " Work life balance? Throw that out of the window. This is Singapore and anything you do, you need to work really hard. The reality of modern day is that you cannot afford to sit on your chair at home while there is someone from some other country willing to do your job for more time and less pay " That statement did not really surprise me. I had known it all along, but I still chose to desperately cling onto the remnants of a hope that I could one day have work-free weekends. Coming straight from someone whose face see...