Beef Noodle
"O" Jian
Pasembur a.k.a Indian Rojak
many thks to Lek Lek on angle
Monday, December 31, 2007
These Are A few of My Favourite Things...
Beef Noodle
"O" Jian
Pasembur a.k.a Indian Rojak
many thks to Lek Lek on angle
Saturday, November 24, 2007
A Snippet of Brain Wave in Action ...
Person A was relating an incident or describing a scenario unrelated Person B and Person C.
After 1-2 mins...
Person C: "Did you tt the message?"
Person B: "Yes , I did"
Person C: "I know we tt the same message."
Person B: "I know that you know that I tt the message"
Person C: "I know that you know that I know that..."
Persons B&C bursted into laughter...
Note
tt : the sound of an incoming message tone on the handphone
After 1-2 mins...
Person C: "Did you tt the message?"
Person B: "Yes , I did"
Person C: "I know we tt the same message."
Person B: "I know that you know that I tt the message"
Person C: "I know that you know that I know that..."
Persons B&C bursted into laughter...
Note
tt : the sound of an incoming message tone on the handphone
Monday, November 12, 2007
THE CAVE
When Socrates drew up the parable of the cave to his friend Glaucon, he was trying to dramatize the difficulties of seeing through our delusions and fantasies, to find truth. And the difficulties would be that the so called “truth” would not be a shared concept amongst many. As it is not a shared concept, pains of not being understood and not being humanly affirmed arise.
Many thinkers of their time had gone through such tribulations and pains for having known and persisted in upholding their “truths”. Many such thinkers were often only understood after their lifetime….
My point is not on “what is truth” but on the process of going through the pains of not having such concept shared while staunchly believing in what is right. You might have recognized that it is so right in you gut! But you lack the power or the ability to influence and to convince. The crucial element seemed to be time…Perhaps it is not time yet…. Perhaps such time will not occur in our lifetime….perhaps that also explains why I love Ecclesiastes 3 so much…Such a pity….
Here’s the dialogue extracted from the book Socrates Way by Ronald Gross:
“Imagine a group of people living in along underground cave, facing the back wall. They have been there since their childhood. Their legs and necks are chained so they cannot move. They can only see straight ahead because the chains prevent them from turning their heads towards the opening, behind and above them. Behind them is a fire blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way. And you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets.”
“I see,” murmured Glaucon, contemplating the imaginary scene Socrates had conjured up.
“Now please imagine,” Socrates continued, “men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of statues and figures of animals made of wood and stone and various materials, which appear over the wall."
“This is strange image, and these are strange prisoners,” said Glaucon.
“Yes,” said Socrates, “strange indeed. The prisoners see only the shadows of the puppets, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the back wall of the cave.”
“True,” said Glaucon, “for how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to moving their heads?”
“And if they were able to talk with one another, would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually before them?”
“Very true.”
“To them,” Socrates said,” the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.”
“That is certain.”
“Now,” Socrates said.” Imagine that one of the prisoners is freed. Suddenly his bonds are removed, and he is allowed to stand up and turn around, and walked toward the light. How do you think he would feel?”
“ I think that at first he will suffer sharp pains, and the glare will distress him,” replied Glaucon.” He will be unable to see the real objects of which, while a prisoner, he had seen only shadows.”
“Yes,” agreed Socrates. “But then his vision would clear. Though dazzled by the light of the real world, he would gradually grow accustomed to it. The pain and irritation would pass away. He would be able to distinguish among shadows, and reflections in water, and the real objects.”
“I can see that would be true, Socrates,” said Glaucon.
Socrates continued:” Then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven. Last of all, he would be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of him in the water. He would come to realize that the sun was the source of heat and light. And he would think of the cave, and the prisoners there, and how they had had to form all their ideas about the world simply on the basis of shadows against the cave wall. And he would pity them.”
“Yes,” Glaucon agreed.
“Suppose now,” Socrates continued, “that this man, after having the glimpse of the sunlit world, were brought back into the darkness of the cave and chained once again. He would be unable to see in the cave until his eyes again became accustomed to darkness. The prisoners who had never left the cave would think him blind. Men would say of him that he went up and down he came without his eyes, and that it was better not to even to think of going up. And the prisoners in the cave would say that if anyone tried to free them and take them to the light, they would refuse to go.”
Many thinkers of their time had gone through such tribulations and pains for having known and persisted in upholding their “truths”. Many such thinkers were often only understood after their lifetime….
My point is not on “what is truth” but on the process of going through the pains of not having such concept shared while staunchly believing in what is right. You might have recognized that it is so right in you gut! But you lack the power or the ability to influence and to convince. The crucial element seemed to be time…Perhaps it is not time yet…. Perhaps such time will not occur in our lifetime….perhaps that also explains why I love Ecclesiastes 3 so much…Such a pity….
Here’s the dialogue extracted from the book Socrates Way by Ronald Gross:
“Imagine a group of people living in along underground cave, facing the back wall. They have been there since their childhood. Their legs and necks are chained so they cannot move. They can only see straight ahead because the chains prevent them from turning their heads towards the opening, behind and above them. Behind them is a fire blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way. And you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets.”
“I see,” murmured Glaucon, contemplating the imaginary scene Socrates had conjured up.
“Now please imagine,” Socrates continued, “men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of statues and figures of animals made of wood and stone and various materials, which appear over the wall."
“This is strange image, and these are strange prisoners,” said Glaucon.
“Yes,” said Socrates, “strange indeed. The prisoners see only the shadows of the puppets, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the back wall of the cave.”
“True,” said Glaucon, “for how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to moving their heads?”
“And if they were able to talk with one another, would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually before them?”
“Very true.”
“To them,” Socrates said,” the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.”
“That is certain.”
“Now,” Socrates said.” Imagine that one of the prisoners is freed. Suddenly his bonds are removed, and he is allowed to stand up and turn around, and walked toward the light. How do you think he would feel?”
“ I think that at first he will suffer sharp pains, and the glare will distress him,” replied Glaucon.” He will be unable to see the real objects of which, while a prisoner, he had seen only shadows.”
“Yes,” agreed Socrates. “But then his vision would clear. Though dazzled by the light of the real world, he would gradually grow accustomed to it. The pain and irritation would pass away. He would be able to distinguish among shadows, and reflections in water, and the real objects.”
“I can see that would be true, Socrates,” said Glaucon.
Socrates continued:” Then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven. Last of all, he would be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of him in the water. He would come to realize that the sun was the source of heat and light. And he would think of the cave, and the prisoners there, and how they had had to form all their ideas about the world simply on the basis of shadows against the cave wall. And he would pity them.”
“Yes,” Glaucon agreed.
“Suppose now,” Socrates continued, “that this man, after having the glimpse of the sunlit world, were brought back into the darkness of the cave and chained once again. He would be unable to see in the cave until his eyes again became accustomed to darkness. The prisoners who had never left the cave would think him blind. Men would say of him that he went up and down he came without his eyes, and that it was better not to even to think of going up. And the prisoners in the cave would say that if anyone tried to free them and take them to the light, they would refuse to go.”
Thursday, October 18, 2007
When You've Said Nothing At All
Listening, relating and reaching out to people has been always been somewhat my natural ability. Most of the time, I have been able to make sense of many complex situations, appreciate the sentiments and provide the needed encouragement, understanding and comfort. I will always have something to say.
I will always have something to say until the day when my dear childhood friend passed away April this year. My conscience has been constantly pricked for my incompetence to utter something or in fact, anything that could express my grieve for his death. Also, that I had failed to provide comfort and relief from grieve for my friend’s parents and wife as a result of my speechlessness.
-------------------------
A usual hectic morning in the office:
I was busily making preparations for a meeting scheduled at 0930hrs. My phone rang and I noticed from the caller ID that it was from my childhood friend whom I had dinner with two days ago. However, I was surprised that the voice on the other end of the line was that of his wife.
In a calm and composed voice, she informed me that my friend had passed on.
"Passed on?" I repeated the word while mentally searched for the meaning of the word.
Suddenly, I heard a sob on the line and it had strucked me abruptly. He is dead. He had "passed on". My mind was blanked for a few seconds, which seemed like eternity and my face numbed. I opened my mouth trying to say something. No comforting words were uttered. I was dumbfounded……
--------------------------
At the friend’s house where we had wine and recounted some good memories just two days ago:
As I entered into his house, his parents and wife greeted me at the doorway. Their faces were etched with signs of immense grieve and their eyes were swollen with tears. There was so much grieve and so much pain.
" But he is so young….", his mother wept. ( I will always remember these words)
My heart sank and I wanted very much to say something to comfort them but there was nothing. I was at loss for words……..
---------------------------------
An article read on the Internet today:
"In the Bible we are told that during Job’s time of grieving, his three friends came to mourn with him and to comfort him. For the first 7 days sat and wept with him because he was in deep sorrow (Job 2:11-13). "No one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his grief was very great" (v.13). Their presence alone was a comfort to him."
I hoped it is true that my silent presence alone would somehow have brought comfort to them…..
I will always have something to say until the day when my dear childhood friend passed away April this year. My conscience has been constantly pricked for my incompetence to utter something or in fact, anything that could express my grieve for his death. Also, that I had failed to provide comfort and relief from grieve for my friend’s parents and wife as a result of my speechlessness.
-------------------------
A usual hectic morning in the office:
I was busily making preparations for a meeting scheduled at 0930hrs. My phone rang and I noticed from the caller ID that it was from my childhood friend whom I had dinner with two days ago. However, I was surprised that the voice on the other end of the line was that of his wife.
In a calm and composed voice, she informed me that my friend had passed on.
"Passed on?" I repeated the word while mentally searched for the meaning of the word.
Suddenly, I heard a sob on the line and it had strucked me abruptly. He is dead. He had "passed on". My mind was blanked for a few seconds, which seemed like eternity and my face numbed. I opened my mouth trying to say something. No comforting words were uttered. I was dumbfounded……
--------------------------
At the friend’s house where we had wine and recounted some good memories just two days ago:
As I entered into his house, his parents and wife greeted me at the doorway. Their faces were etched with signs of immense grieve and their eyes were swollen with tears. There was so much grieve and so much pain.
" But he is so young….", his mother wept. ( I will always remember these words)
My heart sank and I wanted very much to say something to comfort them but there was nothing. I was at loss for words……..
---------------------------------
An article read on the Internet today:
"In the Bible we are told that during Job’s time of grieving, his three friends came to mourn with him and to comfort him. For the first 7 days sat and wept with him because he was in deep sorrow (Job 2:11-13). "No one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his grief was very great" (v.13). Their presence alone was a comfort to him."
I hoped it is true that my silent presence alone would somehow have brought comfort to them…..
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Auntie Wisdom
It was the time of the month where I had to purchase my season parking coupon. The queue in the HDB Area Office was especially long during this time of the month and I had waited 45mins (Yes…I’ve prayed for patience).
While I was "patiently" waiting to be served, an auntie who was queuing in front of me suddenly turn to another auntie who was behind me and asked her, " Are you XXX?"
" Yes!" exclaimed the one behind me.
Since that moment, their conversation kept me entertained for about half an hour.
Imagine me sandwiched helplessly between the two aunties who were oblivious of my presence and chatted mindlessly away. They had made me felt like I grew up "eating glass and drinking tap water"…i.e.… TRANSPARENT. (I know…patience)
From their conversation, I gathered that the two aunties were once very intimate friends. However, they had lost contact after one of them went to China for work 6 years ago. Their conversation started from the warm up phase of asking each other about their husbands and kids; to the peak of reminiscing the good old times that they had shared. While talking about the old times, you could see that their eyes sparkled and images of their shared past seemed to have been projected in their eyes. As they spoke excitedly, you could also hear the pitch of their conversation scaled from one octave to another.
Finally, it was the auntie in the front’s turn to be served. After she had bought her season parking coupon, she turned to her friend and both gave each other a faint smile while politely nodding their head. No goodbyes or requests for future contact. Normalcy to their usual life seemed to have been reinstated immediately from that moment.
For a while, I was dumb-stricken with such callousness displayed by the aunties. But after further contemplation later in the day, I guessed I was slightly enlightened by their action…
Reminiscence often brings about a mixed emotion of bittersweetness. Sweet because of the good memories shared. Bitter as the memories are in the past where you know that you cannot go back in time. Sweet again because such memories are treasured as it cannot be replicated. Bitter again as the memories are your treasures but sadly you can no longer be a part of it.
Perhaps, the aunties were wise afterall... instead of lingering and holding on to the past to the extent of being overly sentimental and detrimental to thier daily lives, they moved on… till their next chance encounter.
While I was "patiently" waiting to be served, an auntie who was queuing in front of me suddenly turn to another auntie who was behind me and asked her, " Are you XXX?"
" Yes!" exclaimed the one behind me.
Since that moment, their conversation kept me entertained for about half an hour.
Imagine me sandwiched helplessly between the two aunties who were oblivious of my presence and chatted mindlessly away. They had made me felt like I grew up "eating glass and drinking tap water"…i.e.… TRANSPARENT. (I know…patience)
From their conversation, I gathered that the two aunties were once very intimate friends. However, they had lost contact after one of them went to China for work 6 years ago. Their conversation started from the warm up phase of asking each other about their husbands and kids; to the peak of reminiscing the good old times that they had shared. While talking about the old times, you could see that their eyes sparkled and images of their shared past seemed to have been projected in their eyes. As they spoke excitedly, you could also hear the pitch of their conversation scaled from one octave to another.
Finally, it was the auntie in the front’s turn to be served. After she had bought her season parking coupon, she turned to her friend and both gave each other a faint smile while politely nodding their head. No goodbyes or requests for future contact. Normalcy to their usual life seemed to have been reinstated immediately from that moment.
For a while, I was dumb-stricken with such callousness displayed by the aunties. But after further contemplation later in the day, I guessed I was slightly enlightened by their action…
Reminiscence often brings about a mixed emotion of bittersweetness. Sweet because of the good memories shared. Bitter as the memories are in the past where you know that you cannot go back in time. Sweet again because such memories are treasured as it cannot be replicated. Bitter again as the memories are your treasures but sadly you can no longer be a part of it.
Perhaps, the aunties were wise afterall... instead of lingering and holding on to the past to the extent of being overly sentimental and detrimental to thier daily lives, they moved on… till their next chance encounter.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
Sound of Music
Never did I realised how quiet and dull it was in the car for the past week even though the stereo was blasting away...Welcome home.....The hills are alive (again)...... :)
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Behind My Smiling Face
Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though its breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, youll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
Youll see the sun come shining through for you
Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
Thats the time you must keep on trying
Smile, whats the use of crying?
Youll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile
Thats the time you must keep on trying
Smile, whats the use of crying?
Youll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile
-Nat King Cole
Smile even though its breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, youll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
Youll see the sun come shining through for you
Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
Thats the time you must keep on trying
Smile, whats the use of crying?
Youll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile
Thats the time you must keep on trying
Smile, whats the use of crying?
Youll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile
-Nat King Cole
Monday, September 24, 2007
Love, in Sickness and in Health
In the ballroom of Hotel Intercontinental, the music of Joshua Kadison sounded in the background – “You’re my peace of mind in this crazy world. You’re everything I try to find; your love is a pearl….”
The lovely bride, clasped affectionately onto the arm of her father, walked down nervously along the aisle toward her husband-to-be who was waiting in full anticipation. The flower girls trod dandily and innocently, at the forefront of the bride and her father, scattering rose petals to pave the passage of love.
Smiling faces everywhere....
The pinnacle of the ceremony was the moment when the Justice of Peace asked the groom and the bride in turn: “ Will you love her/him, honor her/him, comfort her/him, and keep her/him in sickness and in health; forsaking all others, be true to her/him as long as you both shall live”.
“Yes, I do.”, resonated and loving glances exchanged between my baby brother and his bride...
In ward 64 of National University Hospital, the ceiling fan rotated and hummed monotonously. Mum wiped the skinny body of dad with a wet towel. Never did I notice in the past how much more he had aged. Dad was warded for a heart problem that had plagued him for years and he was sent to the ER today as he was complaining of chest pain. We did not want to take risks.
Dad moaned helplessly as mum silently wiped his body. No lovey dovey glances were exchanged between them but I could sense the unspoken love, trust, care and steadfastness between them. It was almost unnoticeable to the eye but if seen with your heart, it clearly exists.
A heart melted and probably if you were there, you could also spot a faint unnoticeable smile....
The lovely bride, clasped affectionately onto the arm of her father, walked down nervously along the aisle toward her husband-to-be who was waiting in full anticipation. The flower girls trod dandily and innocently, at the forefront of the bride and her father, scattering rose petals to pave the passage of love.
Smiling faces everywhere....
The pinnacle of the ceremony was the moment when the Justice of Peace asked the groom and the bride in turn: “ Will you love her/him, honor her/him, comfort her/him, and keep her/him in sickness and in health; forsaking all others, be true to her/him as long as you both shall live”.
“Yes, I do.”, resonated and loving glances exchanged between my baby brother and his bride...
In ward 64 of National University Hospital, the ceiling fan rotated and hummed monotonously. Mum wiped the skinny body of dad with a wet towel. Never did I notice in the past how much more he had aged. Dad was warded for a heart problem that had plagued him for years and he was sent to the ER today as he was complaining of chest pain. We did not want to take risks.
Dad moaned helplessly as mum silently wiped his body. No lovey dovey glances were exchanged between them but I could sense the unspoken love, trust, care and steadfastness between them. It was almost unnoticeable to the eye but if seen with your heart, it clearly exists.
A heart melted and probably if you were there, you could also spot a faint unnoticeable smile....
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Monday, September 17, 2007
On Jekyll and Hyde
The constant conflict between the mind and the heart seems to be a daily struggle for a lot of people. Being both a pieces whose very nature is emotive and an engineer who’s trained to be logical, does not help in ameliorating such a state. As "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" exemplifies the dichotomy as well as the interplay between good and evil, the choice of the blog name seems apt in reflecting the essence of such contradictions in the affairs of the my heart and my mind.
Someone once told me:" You’ll know its right when there is no struggle between the heart and mind". If this statement is true, then it follows that most of the time I must be wrong, as my mind and heart were not aligned most of the time. Of course, this is premised on the assumption that there is only black and white where shades of grey do not exist.
Obviously, it is not a simple matter of black and white, therefore if shades of grey exist, then it follows that sometimes I am more right and sometimes less right. If this is true, could I co-relate the degree of "rightness" with the extent of the struggle? This question shall remained to be explored and answered constantly in this blog.
The hope of this amateur blogger is to document his life experiences, to examine his actions in terms of degree of "rightness" and to distill the concoction of experiences into a concentrated essence of lessons learnt. This blog also hopes to imitate the retrospective acts of an ancient Chinese scholar (couldn’t remember his name) who deposited a red bean for every good deed and a green bean for every bad deed performed and self-reflect at the end of his day by comparing the beans.
The journey of this pilgrim thus begins………
Someone once told me:" You’ll know its right when there is no struggle between the heart and mind". If this statement is true, then it follows that most of the time I must be wrong, as my mind and heart were not aligned most of the time. Of course, this is premised on the assumption that there is only black and white where shades of grey do not exist.
Obviously, it is not a simple matter of black and white, therefore if shades of grey exist, then it follows that sometimes I am more right and sometimes less right. If this is true, could I co-relate the degree of "rightness" with the extent of the struggle? This question shall remained to be explored and answered constantly in this blog.
The hope of this amateur blogger is to document his life experiences, to examine his actions in terms of degree of "rightness" and to distill the concoction of experiences into a concentrated essence of lessons learnt. This blog also hopes to imitate the retrospective acts of an ancient Chinese scholar (couldn’t remember his name) who deposited a red bean for every good deed and a green bean for every bad deed performed and self-reflect at the end of his day by comparing the beans.
The journey of this pilgrim thus begins………
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