tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91822383529132252672024-03-14T06:39:48.265-07:00Little Thoughtletskerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-4544220243857712672009-05-24T06:34:00.001-07:002009-05-24T09:20:29.324-07:00Dearest GrandmaIt was about twenty or twenty one years ago; can't be sure which since it's been such a long time ago. I was watching a program on the antique television that we had then, you know, those black and white televisions which are housed in a cabinet complete with sliding doors. Suddenly, the screen became grainy (Well, the set was quite old and it was already breaking down by then). What happened next was beyond my comprehension. Up till now, I'm not sure what prompted me to do what I did back then. I started tinkering with the TV set, trying to make those irritating grains disappear. Soon, I was drawn to the cable of the television. My eyes chanced upon a section which is bandaged by cellophane tape. Without a second thought, my finger reached out and prodded it. Immediately, the world around me shook. I was electrocuted and I couldn't do anything. Couldn't shout. Couldn't withdraw my hand. I probably had seconds to live.<br /><br />When I regained my senses, Grandma was crouched over me holding my hands in hers to inspect if I was injured. Grandma had saved my life. I escaped with just a little hole in my finger. I cried back then, from the shock of the encounter. Today, my tears flowed for the woman who had not only saved my life, but also shaped it for the past seventeen years.<br /><br />Growing up with Grandma around was really an enriching experience. It was a mixture of both cries of pain and laughters of joy. At times I had to escape the cane that Grandma wielded but more often, I would be looking forward to the evening walks together with Grandma and the toddler that Mum was taking care of at that time. These walks, were especially special because they were more like mini adventures to me. As you can see, I grew up in a 'new village' and there were really a lot of intriguing corners to explore, from the 20 - 30m ancient trees to the fruit-bearing rambutan or mango trees. I would peer into the fish ponds, admiring the little self-sustaining ecology illuminated by the rays of sunlight that filtered through while my Grandma sat at a bench under the tree chatting with her friend.<br /><br />Closer at home, Grandma reared ducks and chickens in the backyard. I remember I was so excited when Grandma brought back a clutch of chicks from the market one day. They were colored in bright assorted colors: green, purple, pink and etc. Later, when they had grown too big to be kept in the house, Grandma had taught me the proper way of holding them so that I didn't get scratch, before we transferred them to the backyard. The backyard was another of our playground; my cousins and I. One of our most ambitious project back then was to build a pond for the ducks. Recalling what we had learned from Alam dan Manusia, we proceeded to dig a hole in the ground. Not large, but well, those ducks could relax in their little bathtub when the day was too hot so we thought. Next, the ingenious key that would make Albert Einstein stare at us in awe and turn our little hole into a sparkling little pond like those you read in fairy tales, the modeling clay! We bought 3 boxes of those cheap modeling clay and placed them all around the bottom of our little hole. Then we poured water in and voila, the "pond" was created without the water seeping into the underground! Too bad, it didn't last long. Five minutes later, our little hole dried up.<br /><br />As I grew into a teenager, I started to bury my nose into books. That was when I grew distant from Grandma, like most teenagers. Despite that, I knew Grandma kept me close to her heart. I remember one day, just after I woke up, my Grandma held me by the arm and drew me next to her and then said to my Mum, "Look, Ker Wei has outgrown me!" In her eyes, I could see pride at its purest.<br /><br />When I hit late teens, I would argue a lot with Grandma and Mum because they kept nagging at me. I would come back in the wee hours of the night most of the time whenever I went to hang out with my friends. Twice I was locked out. The first time, I managed to unlatch the lock and slip inside with an umbrella which was left outside. The second time, no such luck. Grandma made sure that the windows were closed properly that night and thus, I whiled the night away on a deck chair staring up at the stars till Mum opened the door the next morning.<br /><br />Despite all the conflicts and harsh exchanges that we had during the last few years of my teens, I was still among Grandma's favorites. She was so reluctant to let me leave for Singapore when I was twenty. This would probably be the sole reason I feel bad about my decision; to deny my Grandma the chance to live out her final years with the person she cared for and loved.<br /><br />With each passing year, Grandma became weaker. It was only during my vacation in my senior undergraduate years that I realized how much Grandma had shrunk from who she was before. She was still healthy but age was really catching up. By then, she was spending most of the time at home; all of her friends, including my great-aunt whom she was very close to, had passed on. During those vacations, especially the past two years, I would try to stay at home as much as I could. Time with family was becoming really precious, in particular with the older folks. It was really heartwarming being in the living room, chatting and watching television with Grandma. She would tell me about her life experiences which sometimes made me a bit lost since I didn't know any of the people she told me about. But still, it was worthed every single moment and I'm glad I didn't foolishly trade those away for something else.<br /><br />A month ago, Grandma finally left us. If there's one thing I could wish for back then, it would be to be by her side during her final moments. Unfortunately, life seldom unfolds the manner you would wish it to and hence, I was robbed of the very last words. A consequence of my decision made five years ago? Perhaps.<br /><br /><i>"I can only pray that you're at a better place now. Thank you so much for being there for me all these while. I love you, Grandma."</i><div><i><br /></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">An article dedicated to my Grandma, who departed peacefully in her sleep on 29 April 2009. This is to your devotion and sacrifices in sheltering the family your entire life. </span></div>kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-26938939820233262772009-03-13T10:42:00.001-07:002009-03-15T07:10:35.639-07:00MOSAICJust finished our ritual dinner at Marina Square on Friday when we stumbled upon a band performance in Esplanade. The moment we stepped off the escalator, a string of harmonious melody filled our ears. Seduced by the enchanting piece that was being sung, we stood there, hoping to hear more. Unfortunately there was only one more to go before the show ended.<br /><br />And so the performance ended. A girl came up to us and requested us to fill in some survey forms.<br /><br />The title (or part of): MOSAIC<br /><br />"What is MOSAIC anyway?"I blurted the question.<br /><br />The girl seemed to be taken aback. She paused.<br /><br />"The performance you've just watched. That's one of the many events in MOSAIC," came the reply as she gestured her hand towards the big banners hanging on the pillars around the stage area.<br /><br />Banners of all kinds and sizes were being displayed all around the hall. Draped around the main pillars, pasted onto signboards, erected along the sides of the hall and even production crews with MOSAIC t-shirts on them all about!<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Oops.</span><br /><br />Well, it was a rather long survey but that was how we found out about MC HotDog; due to perform in the outdoor arena later that evening. Despite not quite knowing what to expect, we headed there after meeting up with Ming.<br /><br />Lo, behold, MOSAIC presents to you, MC HotDog! (in the video embedded below)<br /><br /><div style="margin-left: 40px;"><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy_sKa1_Gwy2PqJAoz_n2c_nzsXwioO_bcf-jt9FlPcUZRaEiCfG2hGD4bUhICBdHGjA1rQVEhiki9yjLB1ig' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><br />This guy, has got <span style="font-style: italic;">style</span>. I really liked his spectacles, and that wicked goatee. Didn't matter that I could only understand a word out of every ten that he spatted out, it was still a very entertaining evening.kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-77846497656591807432009-03-10T05:59:00.000-07:002009-03-10T06:40:22.299-07:00My Jung Typology Test<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Did a personality test today at <a href="http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp" target="_blank">http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp</a> .<br />Pasted below are three different interpretations of the result. It's kinda long but do take a look if this sort of personality test intrigues you.<br /></div><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />Your Type is </span><br /></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><b> </b></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b><span style="color: rgb(208, 0, 160);font-size:85%;" > <span style="font-size:180%;"><br />INFJ</span></span></b></span><br /><br /></div><table style="display: block; margin-left: 100px; width: 348px; height: 77px;" border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr align="center"><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(208, 0, 160);">Introverted</span></td><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(208, 0, 160);">Intuitive</span></td><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(208, 0, 160);">Feeling</span></td><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(208, 0, 160);">Judging</span></td></tr> <tr align="center"> <td colspan="4"> <span style="font-size:100%;">Strength of the preferences %</span> </td> </tr> <tr align="center"><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(208, 0, 160);">67</span></td><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(208, 0, 160);">88</span></td><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(208, 0, 160);">12</span></td><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(208, 0, 160);">44</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="line-height: 30px; color: rgb(68, 68, 102);font-size:100%;" ><strong>Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging</strong></span><br />by Joe Butt Profile: INFJ<br />Revision: 3.01<br />Date of Revision: 6 Mar 2005<br /><hr /> <p> Beneath the quiet exterior, INFJs hold deep convictions about the weightier matters of life. Those who are activists -- INFJs gravitate toward such a role -- are there for the cause, not for personal glory or political power. </p> <p>INFJs are champions of the oppressed and downtrodden. They often are found in the wake of an emergency, rescuing those who are in acute distress. INFJs may fantasize about getting revenge on those who victimize the defenseless. The concept of 'poetic justice' is appealing to the INFJ. </p> <p>"There's something rotten in Denmark." Accurately suspicious about others' motives, INFJs are not easily led. These are the people that you can rarely fool any of the time. Though affable and sympathetic to most, INFJs are selective about their friends. Such a friendship is a symbiotic bond that transcends mere words. </p> <p>INFJs have a knack for fluency in language and facility in communication. In addition, nonverbal sensitivity enables the INFJ to know and be known by others intimately. </p> <p> Writing, counseling, public service and even politics are areas where INFJs frequently find their niche. </p> <p> <a style="font-size: 21px; color: rgb(102, 102, 119);" href="http://typelogic.com/fa.html">Functional Analysis:</a> </p> <h4>Introverted iNtuition</h4> <p> Introverted intuitives, INFJs enjoy a greater clarity of perception of inner, unconscious processes than all but their INTJ cousins. Just as SP types commune with the object and "live in the here and now" of the physical world, INFJs readily grasp the hidden psychological stimuli behind the more observable dynamics of behavior and affect. Their amazing ability to deduce the inner workings of the mind, will and emotions of others gives INFJs their reputation as prophets and seers. Unlike the confining, routinizing nature of introverted sensing, introverted intuition frees this type to act insightfully and spontaneously as unique solutions arise on an event by event basis. </p> <h4>Extraverted Feeling</h4> <p> Extraverted feeling, the auxiliary deciding function, expresses a range of emotion and opinions of, for and about people. INFJs, like many other FJ types, find themselves caught between the desire to express their wealth of feelings and moral conclusions about the actions and attitudes of others, and the awareness of the consequences of unbridled candor. Some vent the attending emotions in private, to trusted allies. Such confidants are chosen with care, for INFJs are well aware of the treachery that can reside in the hearts of mortals. This particular combination of introverted intuition and extraverted feeling provides INFJs with the raw material from which perceptive counselors are shaped. </p> <h4>Introverted Thinking</h4> <p> The INFJ's thinking is introverted, turned toward the subject. Perhaps it is when the INFJ's thinking function is operative that he is most aloof. A comrade might surmise that such detachment signals a disillusionment, that she has also been found lacking by the sardonic eye of this one who plumbs the depths of the human spirit. Experience suggests that such distancing is merely an indication that the seer is hard at work and focusing energy into this less efficient tertiary function. </p> <h4>Extraverted Sensing</h4> <p> INFJs are twice blessed with clarity of vision, both internal and external. Just as they possess inner vision which is drawn to the forms of the unconscious, they also have external sensing perception which readily takes hold of worldly objects. Sensing, however, is the weakest of the INFJ's arsenal and the most vulnerable. INFJs, like their fellow intuitives, may be so absorbed in intuitive perceiving that they become oblivious to physical reality. The INFJ under stress may fall prey to various forms of immediate gratification. Awareness of extraverted sensing is probably the source of the "SP wannabe" side of INFJs. Many yearn to live spontaneously; it's not uncommon for INFJ actors to take on an SP (often ESTP) role.<br /></p><p><br /></p> <hr /> <div align="center"><h3>Introverted iNtuiting Feeling Judging</h3> by Marina Margaret Heiss </div> <p> INFJs are distinguished by both their complexity of character and the unusual range and depth of their talents. Strongly humanitarian in outlook, INFJs tend to be idealists, and because of their J preference for closure and completion, they are generally "doers" as well as dreamers. This rare combination of vision and practicality often results in INFJs taking a disproportionate amount of responsibility in the various causes to which so many of them seem to be drawn. </p> <p> INFJs are deeply concerned about their relations with individuals as well as the state of humanity at large. They are, in fact, sometimes mistaken for extroverts because they appear so outgoing and are so genuinely interested in people -- a product of the Feeling function they most readily show to the world. On the contrary, INFJs are true introverts, who can only be emotionally intimate and fulfilled with a chosen few from among their long-term friends, family, or obvious "soul mates." While instinctively courting the personal and organizational demands continually made upon them by others, at intervals INFJs will suddenly withdraw into themselves, sometimes shutting out even their intimates. This apparent paradox is a necessary escape valve for them, providing both time to rebuild their depleted resources and a filter to prevent the emotional overload to which they are so susceptible as inherent "givers." As a pattern of behavior, it is perhaps the most confusing aspect of the enigmatic INFJ character to outsiders, and hence the most often misunderstood -- particularly by those who have little experience with this rare type. </p> <p>Due in part to the unique perspective produced by this alternation between detachment and involvement in the lives of the people around them, INFJs may well have the clearest insights of all the types into the motivations of others, for good and for evil. The most important contributing factor to this uncanny gift, however, are the empathic abilities often found in Fs, which seem to be especially heightened in the INFJ type (possibly by the dominance of the introverted N function). </p> <p> This empathy can serve as a classic example of the two-edged nature of certain INFJ talents, as it can be strong enough to cause discomfort or pain in negative or stressful situations. More explicit inner conflicts are also not uncommon in INFJs; it is possible to speculate that the causes for some of these may lie in the specific combinations of preferences which define this complex type. For instance, there can sometimes be a "tug-of-war" between NF vision and idealism and the J practicality that urges compromise for the sake of achieving the highest priority goals. And the I and J combination, while perhaps enhancing self-awareness, may make it difficult for INFJs to articulate their deepest and most convoluted feelings. </p> <p> Usually self-expression comes more easily to INFJs on paper, as they tend to have strong writing skills. Since in addition they often possess a strong personal charisma, INFJs are generally well-suited to the "inspirational" professions such as teaching (especially in higher education) and religious leadership. Psychology and counseling are other obvious choices, but overall, INFJs can be exceptionally difficult to pigeonhole by their career paths. Perhaps the best example of this occurs in the technical fields. Many INFJs perceive themselves at a disadvantage when dealing with the mystique and formality of "hard logic", and in academic terms this may cause a tendency to gravitate towards the liberal arts rather than the sciences. However, the significant minority of INFJs who do pursue studies and careers in the latter areas tend to be as successful as their T counterparts, as it is *iNtuition* -- the dominant function for the INFJ type -- which governs the ability to understand abstract theory and implement it creatively. </p> <p>In their own way, INFJs are just as much "systems builders" as are INTJs; the difference lies in that most INFJ "systems" are founded on human beings and human values, rather than information and technology. Their systems may for these reasons be conceptually "blurrier" than analogous NT ones, harder to measure in strict numerical terms, and easier to take for granted -- yet it is these same underlying reasons which make the resulting contributions to society so vital and profound. </p> Copyright © 1996-2007 by Marina Margaret Heiss and Joe But<br /><br /><hr /><br /><span id="ResultsSpan"><center><span style="color: rgb(0, 130, 84);"><b>Idealist Portrait of the Counselor (INFJ)</b></span> </center><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 130, 84);"><b>Counselors</b></span> have an exceptionally strong desire to contribute to the welfare of others, and find great personal fulfillment interacting with people, nurturing their personal development, guiding them to realize their human potential. Although they are happy working at jobs (such as writing) that require solitude and close attention, Counselors do quite well with individuals or groups of people, provided that the personal interactions are not superficial, and that they find some quiet, private time every now and then to recharge their batteries. Counselors are both kind and positive in their handling of others; they are great listeners and seem naturally interested in helping people with their personal problems. Not usually visible leaders, Counselors prefer to work intensely with those close to them, especially on a one-to-one basis, quietly exerting their influence behind the scenes. </p><!-- INSERT HERE THE CALL TO ADVERTISEMENT --><p>Counselors are scarce, little more than one percent of the population, and can be hard to get to know, since they tend not to share their innermost thoughts or their powerful emotional reactions except with their loved ones. They are highly private people, with an unusually rich, complicated inner life. Friends or colleagues who have known them for years may find sides emerging which come as a surprise. Not that Counselors are flighty or scattered; they value their integrity a great deal, but they have mysterious, intricately woven personalities which sometimes puzzle even them.</p><p>Counselors tend to work effectively in organizations. They value staff harmony and make every effort to help an organization run smoothly and pleasantly. They understand and use human systems creatively, and are good at consulting and cooperating with others. As employees or employers, Counselors are concerned with people's feelings and are able to act as a barometer of the feelings within the organization.</p><p>Blessed with vivid imaginations, Counselors are often seen as the most poetical of all the types, and in fact they use a lot of poetic imagery in their everyday language. Their great talent for language-both written and spoken-is usually directed toward communicating with people in a personalized way. Counselors are highly intuitive and can recognize another's emotions or intentions - good or evil - even before that person is aware of them. Counselors themselves can seldom tell how they came to read others' feelings so keenly. This extreme sensitivity to others could very well be the basis of the Counselor's remarkable ability to experience a whole array of psychic phenomena.</p><p style="margin-right: 4px;">Mohandas Gandhi, Sidney Poitier, Eleanor Roosevelt, Jane Goodall, Emily Bronte, Sir Alec Guiness, Carl Jung, Mary Baker Eddy, Queen Noor are examples of the Counselor Idealist (INFJ). </p></span>kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-49262670466188512052009-02-28T08:53:00.000-08:002009-02-28T23:31:21.359-08:00The Weekend That Was ........ Again ^_^It's East Coast Park again this weekend! Everybody was really high-spirited despite the darkening weather early in the morning. You just have to look at Ah Bee's bag to see how eager he was. By the way, there were 12 people this weekend. One <span style="font-weight: bold;">less</span> than the group last week. Please take note, Ah Bee and Lit Ting! =P<br /><br />Had a long walk to the rental stores in ECP though. Bus driver uncle was too keen to get rid of us from his bus. I suspect the culprit could be Ah Bee . . . . . . . 's bag. Waste of petrol and space on the bus. And also delaying the journey of other passengers. But since we're his friends, we didn't mind having to walk the extra distance for his bag, yup.<br /><br />So, finally I got the chance to try rollerblading properly. Fell down all over the place. Left, right, forwards, backwards. Anyway, I guess novice rollerbladers should be shielded from distractions as much as possible. Stability is extremely sensitive to glances, especially those thrown with a warm smile. =P<br /><br />Well, well. Distractions aside, objective had been met i guess, today. At least I <span style="font-style: italic;">moved.</span> Style is not important man. Never mind that little kids on tricycles had to hurry me from behind with their little ringing bells. The essence was the function. And that's being mobile on shoes with wheels.<br /><br />Went cycling as well later. It was kinda gloomy though. Sky was dark and weather was chilly. Nevertheless, it was still good! Guess it's the sea. It makes you feel as if you're gliding weightlessly across an endless expanse of turquoise cream and sky blue floss. Life's like a dream again!<br /><br />Okay, the only problem of the day was dinner. After countless rounds of debates, we finally settled for Xin Wang Xiang Gang Cha Chan Ting.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ucUUD6cTL4l_5FYjtqTcitEzupDvY07ZFSy_dMG_vBv1HJkUTONKwppMXbLWRka1YXLHPCPkGlDIqFdPsMDV_Y0sJvlAZGvPS_YtbEwdtnxJkpgtj9omnpds4MthUutgSJhIL0o2asZZ/s1600-h/28022009158.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ucUUD6cTL4l_5FYjtqTcitEzupDvY07ZFSy_dMG_vBv1HJkUTONKwppMXbLWRka1YXLHPCPkGlDIqFdPsMDV_Y0sJvlAZGvPS_YtbEwdtnxJkpgtj9omnpds4MthUutgSJhIL0o2asZZ/s320/28022009158.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308105075275997858" border="0" /></a><br />The food wasn't that good, but well, it didn't matter. Empty stomachs needed to be filled. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, since everybody was so jovial. (Applicable to the 2 CCC only, agree?) Not sure who was happier though, you guys judge for yourselves from the following pictures!<br /><br /><div style="float: left;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXrKo-5qu-y3K2uMGHWjrFA95RPTIaXHTou6Xm8DoaEtSf0yDj7-nW0JkNEuoVRbLYZhtoE2lsPmW-ctHkdPvk5g8hXetdgVrvMbkMBYi_p1PkGaDZTF0ZOK2pwH_chlLYyHwWQpbm06UZ/s1600-h/28022009153.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 5px 10px 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXrKo-5qu-y3K2uMGHWjrFA95RPTIaXHTou6Xm8DoaEtSf0yDj7-nW0JkNEuoVRbLYZhtoE2lsPmW-ctHkdPvk5g8hXetdgVrvMbkMBYi_p1PkGaDZTF0ZOK2pwH_chlLYyHwWQpbm06UZ/s320/28022009153.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308104543446711730" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" >OR</span></span></div><br /><div style=""><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqivXWCSxzed2MQAGC1LptlmY21IZoNe46xGVAP0YRWWTXcphqjM-22RUyBIVYrQF0xnUdz11pS3mBYK15jULIuVWs5gyjBxnoPfIv9O5U8lQ26NGnc50anzJl4YdsfTxmPYn-3cD9uFA_/s1600-h/28022009154.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 5px; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqivXWCSxzed2MQAGC1LptlmY21IZoNe46xGVAP0YRWWTXcphqjM-22RUyBIVYrQF0xnUdz11pS3mBYK15jULIuVWs5gyjBxnoPfIv9O5U8lQ26NGnc50anzJl4YdsfTxmPYn-3cD9uFA_/s320/28022009154.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308104725592086834" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><div style="float: left; clear: both;">Probably the slim version CCC was happier. "Upsize" version tried to choke himself to death by stuffing himself with food, since he had to sit at the opposite end next to me. =(<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8E9a_QiVUz0sjOzBUYXM5zXFmtJhj1Rf3mJTl60QT_M_Guli5luQLZlubqFUG9gDUD6V1-y1f5Dy2orl57aZvyaRr67xruoDTYszzpqY1m6JutbJnrFM14zjch3xiAXI3um_p7Zd4hpqW/s1600-h/28022009160.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8E9a_QiVUz0sjOzBUYXM5zXFmtJhj1Rf3mJTl60QT_M_Guli5luQLZlubqFUG9gDUD6V1-y1f5Dy2orl57aZvyaRr67xruoDTYszzpqY1m6JutbJnrFM14zjch3xiAXI3um_p7Zd4hpqW/s320/28022009160.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308105207954335362" border="0" /></a><br />Overall, it was yet another great day and nice knowing you guys, Agatha and Ying Xian!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWs8bf04j0F0j5bIuwnTb613inzM1wjV3JsVRFgl2pvMmiIF26r_vLnyuh-lgjYmH8bxLjVczg-5Hd2CjHFpKceoK1UnH_H_shRNn8UXIRXqQROaehciJTNrNjTnCd7jG6VS2IjYOid0vM/s1600-h/28022009156.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWs8bf04j0F0j5bIuwnTb613inzM1wjV3JsVRFgl2pvMmiIF26r_vLnyuh-lgjYmH8bxLjVczg-5Hd2CjHFpKceoK1UnH_H_shRNn8UXIRXqQROaehciJTNrNjTnCd7jG6VS2IjYOid0vM/s320/28022009156.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308104935475946786" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">*Note* Pictures taken earlier on will be uploaded when I've gotten them from Chak Hon and Han Yoong</span></span><br /></div>kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-61763710170357811132009-02-25T04:26:00.000-08:002009-02-25T04:39:13.035-08:00Rain in ColorsCaught this in Buona Vista slightly after 7pm just now, on my way back from work.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQELR1jnoNatvHyXiVemSa-eqfMUUET-d6ej52A7Jh3955iC7iBXmSbbRT6_y1g-DJlgLH4zvTVAP0pIZtEDh4QFmW1BBCl8oLd0VzkwL89MHIOGPvZWOHACQzQvxCfmJ6MY0ubRfpYWD/s1600-h/25022009152.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQELR1jnoNatvHyXiVemSa-eqfMUUET-d6ej52A7Jh3955iC7iBXmSbbRT6_y1g-DJlgLH4zvTVAP0pIZtEDh4QFmW1BBCl8oLd0VzkwL89MHIOGPvZWOHACQzQvxCfmJ6MY0ubRfpYWD/s400/25022009152.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306711830245253682" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Ultra-big, ultra brilliant! This should be the brightest rainbow I've seen in my entire life so far. It makes you feel like running into it and get showered by its luminous colors. Life's like a dream.<br /><br />If you look carefully, there's actually another rainbow located slightly above it.<br />Yup, it was a double arc! The smaller, fainter one has its colors in reverse order.<br /><br />This really made my day! =)kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-9216930805091460292009-02-24T06:24:00.000-08:002009-02-24T07:06:41.734-08:00The Weekend That WasNice weekend! Spent Friday night after work grumbling and bitching about life and work to Luke and Michelle; as per our weekly ritual. Which is when Michelle decided to organize an outing the next day to keep my mouth shut. And hence, ECP it was to be.<br /><br />Okay, here’s a side story which is essential. Michelle sent out many smses of invitation. And one of them was directed to Ah Bee, asking him to jio the Happy Family along.<br /><br />5 minutes passed. Ah Bee hasn’t replied.<br /><br />10 minutes passed. Still no reply.<br /><br />15 minutes. Nothing<br /><br />At this point, Michelle was distraught since many of them didn’t reply. (sorry Michelle, I need this to rub somebody’s wound with salt) Particularly Ah Bee, since they’re working in the same company. So, Bee, you should feel guilty when you read this. Well, if you’re feeling remorseful, you should include me in your plan this coming week!! =P<br /><br />Saturday. ECP almost didn’t happen. All because Kap Lam wanted to go for a karaoke session to sing Unchained Melody. Alright, to be fair, the weather constituted one half of the factor as well. It was pouring cats and dogs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaLL1qAnlY1lGx2iZl9T17sG7muEJYYlltDh8L1FWLV4XSkH3ZWJoIIQ6nIhwuCH_gVqSt92NznXFzLg37id7CFZ2Zx_MrtNOtw7MJNNMj1vI0oMs-71YAjBkgjwk8pi20PfhxeWqXnugU/s1600-h/n649724464_2145102_6196.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaLL1qAnlY1lGx2iZl9T17sG7muEJYYlltDh8L1FWLV4XSkH3ZWJoIIQ6nIhwuCH_gVqSt92NznXFzLg37id7CFZ2Zx_MrtNOtw7MJNNMj1vI0oMs-71YAjBkgjwk8pi20PfhxeWqXnugU/s320/n649724464_2145102_6196.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306374569092223506" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Good thing though, weather over at ECP was great. And I finally got to cycle after an 8-year break. The days cycling around the streets of Penang were good but ECP was not bad either.<br /><br />That was the first time I tried rollerblading too. “A pair of shoes that move on its own accord,” as I put it in a conversation between Jien Ann and I.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0NAtIZX9d0JswXHrr_1n399DhZN8gX9o_0AGFgUzVVCFG2RSgkCSDHFtddStWrLn1ncUjcdlNWJ4SWAIuTZSFMg-_Z3HOPafM-FDRtqiTHghGkHdJdTLAczNIZ_Gj7RmaoRJ4go9hWncA/s1600-h/21022009150copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0NAtIZX9d0JswXHrr_1n399DhZN8gX9o_0AGFgUzVVCFG2RSgkCSDHFtddStWrLn1ncUjcdlNWJ4SWAIuTZSFMg-_Z3HOPafM-FDRtqiTHghGkHdJdTLAczNIZ_Gj7RmaoRJ4go9hWncA/s320/21022009150copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306376844095497714" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After ECP was the feasting blitz. The chow of mutton tendon was indeed appetizing. Not to mention extremely nutritious for the bones; which was crucial after all those falls on the rollerblades. Up next, dessert at Gei Dak Seik.<br /><br />"Where’s Gei Dak Seik?" Kok Heng asked.<br /><br />"Ji De Chi," I replied.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlzvr9gA38OG-66rEKB1EEAt5G65xJeas-HHnQr2sjO7qK7wrI6yVb6DllpTXHrZJxF00-EFI3VgtiQsRJPJFS-wsOvOhcok6SpLH7llnfG46PjZduaRXYQejbIL5ooX-E7iEgIc7DAYLY/s1600-h/n649724464_2145117_216.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlzvr9gA38OG-66rEKB1EEAt5G65xJeas-HHnQr2sjO7qK7wrI6yVb6DllpTXHrZJxF00-EFI3VgtiQsRJPJFS-wsOvOhcok6SpLH7llnfG46PjZduaRXYQejbIL5ooX-E7iEgIc7DAYLY/s320/n649724464_2145117_216.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306377146318229826" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Well, Gei Dak Seik was full though and so we went to Ah Chau Tim Ban instead. No regrets coming to find Ah Chau as the mango sago dessert capped off a fine day. In fact Kok Heng grew so attached to Ah Chau after she taught him how to eat the dessert properly.<br /><br />Sunday. A rather peaceful day at the Happy Family’s. Not much luck with trying to fish from Ah Lian’s ipod in their living room though. Highlight of the day was dinner! Featuring the all-new CCC tom yam! Not bad for a first time I’d say. Ah Bee disputed that the taste was no different than the tom yam created by just using his premium tom yam paste plus lemongrass leaves though. There should be a round 2 in this tom yam bout, no doubt.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWq5WLQeAHINdd4u7nYRpxaH_ard3OaSvVqZXLSj9-UGj7VttCCGNpsxCUraaw2zKhs_69wewg63hZl1PryRCZ2Wo7CCuJD3r0HgQd75tcVIpouUDO_QOJiUYt-tkFvrQTVHnhxUH1xvD/s1600-h/22022009151copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWq5WLQeAHINdd4u7nYRpxaH_ard3OaSvVqZXLSj9-UGj7VttCCGNpsxCUraaw2zKhs_69wewg63hZl1PryRCZ2Wo7CCuJD3r0HgQd75tcVIpouUDO_QOJiUYt-tkFvrQTVHnhxUH1xvD/s320/22022009151copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306377810851627010" border="0" /></a>kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-52844807863109556182008-12-16T06:34:00.000-08:002008-12-18T19:06:40.032-08:00The Three Swans<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Along the stream i walked in the woods</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Till i saw a swan in lovely mood</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">With grace with daze she glided</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">In that morning i felt so blessed</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Decided i had to capture her</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Grabbed my hands did and kicked her webbed feet</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Alas, won her over i did not</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Instead, in agony parted we did</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Sighing, i continued walking</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Till i saw in that morning light</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Another swan was glowing white</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Decided i did to try again</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And again, my effort was in vain<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;">As she flew away, in the pouring rain</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Drenched myself was, i moved ahead</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Till i chanced upon one in a glade</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">In silence i watched she danced with sway</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">If only time could stop to make her stay</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Alas, ere long, she took to the sky</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">As i could only wave her goodbye</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div>kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-12564371342035695172008-10-07T06:40:00.000-07:002008-11-10T07:14:12.848-08:00What .. is ...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAoBm0t7XRAvzOYLqjJjOgox2HbVWBIjELctaks1v0lb4WLgp02AiefKO0ei1e7RZc87VqYCpXnyyMEI-Jk_haTA2IYj1fkwi59Gjalnt6x89T_Lihs4eJayow8k2elHmYiclu5VNzXno/s1600-h/assassination.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAoBm0t7XRAvzOYLqjJjOgox2HbVWBIjELctaks1v0lb4WLgp02AiefKO0ei1e7RZc87VqYCpXnyyMEI-Jk_haTA2IYj1fkwi59Gjalnt6x89T_Lihs4eJayow8k2elHmYiclu5VNzXno/s320/assassination.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267044412690672850" border="0" /></a><br />Long time ago, I had a dream. There was a little boy. He stood there, less than 12 feet away, facing me. Standing at about 3 feet in height, he couldn't be more than 6 years of age. His complexion was of milky shade, which matched his golden brown hair so naturally. He was dressed in a striped round neck T-shirt, lines of white and navy blue running horizontally across his small body, with a pair of navy blue shorts which came down to his knees. Clutched around securely with his left hand was a medium sized teddy bear.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">He doesn't seem to notice me.</span><br /><br />The little boy was looking around for something, or someone. The fringe of his hair bounced about as he turned this way and that. With eyes open wide, he gazed at the sight before him, taking them all in in a very innocent manner. His search didn't seem to be fruitful but, apparently, he wasn't about to give up yet as well. He continued peering here and there faithfully, his attention broken only by his occasional glances at the teddy bear in his hand. Suddenly, his eyes brightened up. As he stared fixedly ahead, his face beamed with excitement and anticipation. Instinctively, I turned to the direction which he laid his eyes at.<br /><br />A little distance away, was the silhouette of a man. I had to strain my eyes hard just to make out the outline of his figure as he had his back turned towards the light. The man was of medium built. As far as I could tell, he had a nineteenth century sense of fashion. A stovepipe hat was nested atop of his head proudly, straight and erect, and on his left hand, he held onto a lean walking stick planted at an angle to the ground.<br /><br />"Mister! Mister!" The little boy called out eagerly as he broke into a little run. Rhythmic thuds echoed across the space as each of his tiny steps brought him closer to the man.<br /><br />The man took a step forward.<br /><br />Ding...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">A faint tinkle of a bell.</span><br /><br />"Tell me boy, what is the sum of nine and eight?" asked the man.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">His voice is rather warm but, authoritative.</span><br /><br />"Seventeen!" Came the reply almost instantaneously. The boy did not have to stop and think to solve that."Eight plus nine gives you seventeen, Mister!"<br /><br />"Well done!" The man proceeded with another step forward.<br /><br />Ding...<br /><br />"How about the root of sixty-four? Do you know the answer to that?"<br /><br />The little boy was still running towards him. Almost there now. "It's eight. Eight is the root of sixty-four, isn't it, Mister?" answered the bright little boy, albeit with a little uncertainty within himself.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Smart.</span><br /><br />"Correct again, you little Einstein!<br /><br />Ding...<br /><br />Again, the bell tinkled softly as the man strode forward. Just then, the little boy finally managed to catch up to him. He halted in front of the man; his face reddened and little droplets of sweat forming around the forehead. Nevertheless, the little boy did not show any signs of exhaustion. Rather, he looked elated, almost to the point of jubilant, to have found this man whom he had been looking out for all the while. A smile is fixed upon his face as he looked up and met the man's gaze. He reached out with his free hand.<br /><br />Lightly, he tugged at the man's arm,"May I have a candy please, Mister?"<br /><br />The man smiled warmly. Gently, he withdrew his arm from the boy's tug, bent down and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder,"Of course! But before that, tell me, what is my name?"<br /><br />The little boy's mouth parted slightly, in a gesture of wanting to speak but stopped short of doing so at the very last moment. He continued to look at the man squarely in the face. Little by little, the curves of smile disappeared from the boy and at the same time, shadows of doubt began to crept into him. He focused on the face before him. It was of no use. The little boy looked more and more quizzical the longer he tried to make an impression out of the man's facial features.<br /><br />"Well?" The man pressed for a reply.<br /><br />The boy seemed lost now. He thought hard but he just couldn't locate that fragment of memory which his familiarity to the person in front of him laid hidden. His shoulders shifted uneasily under the man's hand as the confidence gained from his answers earlier evaporated. In a resigned manner, the little boy hung his head low and sought for solace from the teddy bear in his arms instead. Quietly he muttered,"I'm sorry"<br /><br />"I don't know your name, Mister."<br /><br />The man remained knelt before the little boy. The air turned still and heavy, as if it was weighed down by the boy's failure to answer the final question. Moments passed in silence between the two; time itself momentarily frozen by the chill emanating from each of their disappointment. The warmth stemmed from the reciprocal show of affection earlier had all dissipated by now.<br /><br />"YOU WHAT?! HOW DARE YOU NOT KNOW!!" the man hollered at the boy.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Huh?</span><br /><br />In an instance, the hand on the boy's shoulder tightened and turned into a grip. The little boy winced as pain shot through his arm. The man had changed. As he gripped the boy's arm, he shook him violently; the little body rocked by the brutal force exerted. He let out bursts of fiendish screams into the boy's face as he unleashed his true, violent nature.<br /><br />"HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW?! HOW?! HOW!!"<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Stop it!! You're hurting him!<br /><br /></span>"I'm sorry, Mister! I'm sorry," the boy called out in pain in between his cries. The teddy bear had been dropped. With the free hand, the boy tried to pry away the man's hand that was holding his arm in a grapple. The face that was shining brightly just now had turned untidy, drenched wet by the tears that were pouring out relentlessly.<br /><br />"I'll know the answer next time, Mister! I promise you!" pleaded the boy through his jerking sobs.<br /><br />"Next time? THERE WILL BE NO NEXT TIME!!" The man finished his line with an inhumane roar.<br /><br />In a spate of fury, the man threw his walking stick aside and rose, lifting the little boy off the ground effortlessly as he did so. He dangled the boy before him by his arm. The little boy let out a helpless, painful scream. His little legs kicked about wildly in a desperate bid to free himself from the man.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Damn you!! Let go of him!<br /><br /></span>Without compassion, the tormentor grabbed the boy by his left leg with his other free hand and hung the boy over his head, so that the boy was hovering above him. The man broke into a maniacal grin<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span><span><span>as the little boy twisted and writhed in his grasp. Slowly, the grin grew wider and wider; the outline of his lips thinning and curling upwards at the same time</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span>Dark red blood trickled down his chin as the skin that held his cheek together was torn apart by the parting of his mouth. As his mouth opened, the rows of teeth, planted on a soggy mass of red came into view. His gums. Soaked bright red and swollen beyond recognition by the bleeding around the roots of his teeth. The opening into his mouth was now as large as an eight-inch plate.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">You're not going to do that!! No!</span><br /><br />Slowly, the abomination lowered the little boy head-first towards the oral cavity that was the entrance to his digestive tract.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Don't do it! Please!!</span><br /><br />The boy gave a horrified scream as he felt the hot breath rushing out from the hole to greet him.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">NOOOO!!!!!!</span><br /><br />It was dark. A faint blurry streak of eerie light danced hurriedly overhead as the light escaping from the groove under the door was reflected by the rotating blades of the ceiling fan. Suspicious shadows were all about the room, always eager to cast their menacing stares. The only sound that filled the room was my thudding heart, as it pounded furiously away at my chest. Droplets of cold sweat had had poured out all over my body and the mattress was damp beneath my back. Without hesitation, I reached over and felt for the switch to my table lamp.<br /></span>kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-81822542960636990822008-09-23T06:04:00.001-07:002008-09-25T07:29:58.052-07:00Pi = 3.142<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic34a0bBU5GUJ6cbHIEKcqxa2puHTmC6UjetIuCJ8eDDj5faYvAtPkCcRfH5ZJU0VwZ3aMt2x5g-zBzhJspT08Mvvb6pvfCSs34-c6pD3Jf5mI15p8zW7GiBSjR3VG_b-OGsGHXL8rYi9X/s1600-h/life-of-pi.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic34a0bBU5GUJ6cbHIEKcqxa2puHTmC6UjetIuCJ8eDDj5faYvAtPkCcRfH5ZJU0VwZ3aMt2x5g-zBzhJspT08Mvvb6pvfCSs34-c6pD3Jf5mI15p8zW7GiBSjR3VG_b-OGsGHXL8rYi9X/s320/life-of-pi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249562710200298402" border="0" /></a><br />"The Life of Pi", said Wooi Min as I tilted the book in my hand towards her. She pronounced the final word of the title as "pea".<br /><br />"The Life of Pi," I corrected. Pi read as "pie", in reference to the mathematical constant. Later, when I have read the story behind the name of the main character would I realized I was the one needing correction.<br /><br />It has been a long while since I wanted to lay my hands on this book and finally, last Saturday, I welcomed him to my little collection of paperbacks library. His arrival has been much anticipated, going by the number of approving reviews and praises for the book. From what I am savoring right now, I feel positively sure that my hopes have not been misplaced.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"If Christ played with doubt, so must we. If Christ spent an anguished night in prayer, if He burst out from the Cross,"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" then surely we are also permitted doubt. But we must move on. To choose doubt as the philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation." - </span>Life of Pi<br /><br />That is the most insightful passage I've come across in a very long while. To appreciate its depth, one will have to see the full picture. Earlier in that same page, Pi had voiced out his resentment towards agnostics. He argued that the true unbelievers were actually not the atheists, but the doubters. Simply put, even atheists hold their believes in the notion that God does not exist!<br /><br />Later on, when I reflected upon that passage, a scene from another classic literature jumped into my mind. The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost. Each time I recall those words, I find myself standing at the head of the diverging paths. On my left, a narrow path overridden with thick undergrowth on both sides. On my right, a well kept path, with a sign that says,"This Way" and an angelic smiley face painted just below the two words pointing in that direction.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNIWM0fyq04FNmzvc-B7L_4610rx00wbEAq-JXmTWE9c50j9KUmSlEobzKL70v4NgVInW30CpfUdbU7xsHn9-iA_wDPnEyQ2MVioo5L0OcDeG-Dgfrgz8L3dTs5CbwJeE5iYxDwalosM4S/s1600-h/Path_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNIWM0fyq04FNmzvc-B7L_4610rx00wbEAq-JXmTWE9c50j9KUmSlEobzKL70v4NgVInW30CpfUdbU7xsHn9-iA_wDPnEyQ2MVioo5L0OcDeG-Dgfrgz8L3dTs5CbwJeE5iYxDwalosM4S/s320/Path_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249952832582654130" border="0" /></a><br />Now, the believer, as reasoned by Pi, will follow the proper, well kept path and forward he goes. The unbeliever, with a deep mistrust of the directional sign, is convinced that the shabbier way forward is the right one and off he goes too, down the path. What about the doubter?<br /><br />The doubter, unsure of which to choose, whips out his mobile phone, calls his friend for directions but later feels that his friend's answer may not actually be the correct one, turns around and returns to where he came from. So, while the believer and the unbeliever eventually end up somewhere in the board of snakes and ladders, the doubter is forever stuck at square One, unsure of what to do and too afraid to leave it.<br /><br />Believe, or do not believe. Do not take the third option.<br /><br />P.S. if u're unsure of whether u should believe or not, Pascal's Wager might help u make your decision.kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-44221691710049023772008-09-06T06:38:00.001-07:002008-09-06T21:26:24.114-07:00Hong Kong, 10/05/08 - Day 4 Part 2 (End)Every tale has an ending.<div><br /></div><div>But...</div><div><br /></div><div>This one happened too long ago to allow my memory to reconstruct its conclusion. </div><div><br /></div><div>(<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">murmurs...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>if he wasn't this lazy, this blog could've been published months ago..<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>murmurs...<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Yeah..what a bummer..</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>murmurs...<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>He took this long and managed to come up only with this?! Given the same amount of time, I could have come up with a novel and..)<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>And have it shoved up your sorry arse. That's right. No complaints or you will suffer predicaments of unimaginable pain like.. errm... having a paperback stuck in some holes that it doesn't belong.</div><div><br /></div><div>So well, as an appropriate lazy ending to this pictorial tale, I've decided to select some of the better shots to be displayed here. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRorSB7lJOhnaY5yvv82APfhcNHl1U68tjhg31M0VCci5nUUFn6yXz7JJhOwlxIcvocQgjHwnyN9aWpBDBQwqnANUyCGbs55eRzXkSzC8h8-FkS_erGMctnJp69BzrxFEiGXr1c3l-0uPu/s1600-h/IMG_6362.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRorSB7lJOhnaY5yvv82APfhcNHl1U68tjhg31M0VCci5nUUFn6yXz7JJhOwlxIcvocQgjHwnyN9aWpBDBQwqnANUyCGbs55eRzXkSzC8h8-FkS_erGMctnJp69BzrxFEiGXr1c3l-0uPu/s320/IMG_6362.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242914529290124194" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">The marketplace, Hang Hau </span></div><div style="text-align: left;">Impressive! This place is totally clean and tidy despite being a wet market. What more, it's fully air-conditioned!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw1xbeeotuOIKsoIWYibY7yW7-vUEzBjp1RMPxG6f4W5tFiBXcR7rOyCeU72sXlWn42W3oBsF_71y3W1fdAi4PNJ1HTELGgAnxgOkfoQFJvjVyQg451poEAFloRfXXVQXnMP_YYdWdfkJH/s1600-h/IMG_6367.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw1xbeeotuOIKsoIWYibY7yW7-vUEzBjp1RMPxG6f4W5tFiBXcR7rOyCeU72sXlWn42W3oBsF_71y3W1fdAi4PNJ1HTELGgAnxgOkfoQFJvjVyQg451poEAFloRfXXVQXnMP_YYdWdfkJH/s320/IMG_6367.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243111962723284354" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">The mall, Hang Hau</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, this is another thing I found fascinating in HK! There were so many interesting and seemingly delicious snack chains everywhere. Such a waste that I couldn't get to sample everything.. :(</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcbBUs3YM1cvBEXbvKT783vsWorTgUgJ8CQCriyU1SKgzgDiuFjk7JMzPDjNjbTnWtVk-O8yJCJzvALw4tU_bAO2OrRP6LxYpo2EfbPbT5bXnF5KoYaOd1ZUJVpHgIPpjud5NejpZCPTSU/s1600-h/IMG_6369.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcbBUs3YM1cvBEXbvKT783vsWorTgUgJ8CQCriyU1SKgzgDiuFjk7JMzPDjNjbTnWtVk-O8yJCJzvALw4tU_bAO2OrRP6LxYpo2EfbPbT5bXnF5KoYaOd1ZUJVpHgIPpjud5NejpZCPTSU/s320/IMG_6369.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243122038991632738" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Ladies Market, Mongkok</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This place is umm...like a pasar malam in Penang but 5x bigger in capacity, 10x the vibrance in lighting effects and 20x more crowds of all shapes, sizes and colors.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpdJErwme4YN400W-uV0mFR4SzI9cIRrwWdGSVgi8nnZBB2HCI4ZDdFYmA-swQSIRDLWkjrMPz4IqWc8MA79lkC2NcCV6IoJP9S2hp62W9Doy5oAT2XCCO-1gsquuSGXPbc-pe92ftMD0u/s1600-h/IMG_6376+copy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpdJErwme4YN400W-uV0mFR4SzI9cIRrwWdGSVgi8nnZBB2HCI4ZDdFYmA-swQSIRDLWkjrMPz4IqWc8MA79lkC2NcCV6IoJP9S2hp62W9Doy5oAT2XCCO-1gsquuSGXPbc-pe92ftMD0u/s320/IMG_6376+copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243126973958840706" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><div style="text-align: center;">Ladies Market, Mongkok<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">These people were ready to brave the rain, umbrella or no, just to hang out around here on a Saturday night.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7I499JpMS_L6q9U9mB3ZnTs6X8agVKI0zAiF4miwnNv6xGT1TY5PbsudG3wHLF4WFDhyzmUlBCNurJIVTGaWLB-cyQYusqYYu6_KdXun1FTwQUrl45-sDWgpFX8mm7l1_b5pLyuYF1S8/s1600-h/IMG_6429.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7I499JpMS_L6q9U9mB3ZnTs6X8agVKI0zAiF4miwnNv6xGT1TY5PbsudG3wHLF4WFDhyzmUlBCNurJIVTGaWLB-cyQYusqYYu6_KdXun1FTwQUrl45-sDWgpFX8mm7l1_b5pLyuYF1S8/s320/IMG_6429.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243129162237418546" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The End</div>kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-12513596011041967552008-06-23T08:18:00.000-07:002008-08-19T07:51:24.514-07:0024th BirthdayCrap! I feel so bad for putting this off for such a long time. My sincerest apologies to those who shared the joy with me that day. Anyway, it was kinda surprising coz this bunch of people just suddenly popped up at my doorway with a cake. During lunch time!! (Lit Ting was actually having lunch halfway when they dragged him over, lol!!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkcGK8z9vqrcDpN6jwOmnkKha4HZc1fZJud79sajRPL_4ME0KHI_LtYTb6vPfRBfw7H-v3U6YNzhJQeNW9sjgX4P4e_TD5NLYs9N8zfiRkTsM9L-wZDbQRZQ7h6qqw91-bbu8wnC6dbJX/s1600-h/P1050881.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkcGK8z9vqrcDpN6jwOmnkKha4HZc1fZJud79sajRPL_4ME0KHI_LtYTb6vPfRBfw7H-v3U6YNzhJQeNW9sjgX4P4e_TD5NLYs9N8zfiRkTsM9L-wZDbQRZQ7h6qqw91-bbu8wnC6dbJX/s320/P1050881.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215109735782694178" border="0" /></a>Yup. This is the cake that Luke and Michelle "supposedly" traveled all the way to Pasir Ris early in the morning to buy for me. Well, their effort was definitely not wasted. The cake was really yummy! =)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIKwnaPJaTKEy2cf1THRkbd_BTbqLMfJaWModTTgftmN0dWqGP-NiiXtMY2esqV-INEV708y875DZqz10ht_q2A1nFPeYI4Rua-VzfkmzzBZSCXEBdy-utnG36GDPo1pQ9JvnUkGnGbn05/s1600-h/P1050883.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIKwnaPJaTKEy2cf1THRkbd_BTbqLMfJaWModTTgftmN0dWqGP-NiiXtMY2esqV-INEV708y875DZqz10ht_q2A1nFPeYI4Rua-VzfkmzzBZSCXEBdy-utnG36GDPo1pQ9JvnUkGnGbn05/s320/P1050883.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215111179588877186" border="0" /></a>So, boys and girls, thanks a lot for bringing me such a delicious cake as an appetizer to my lunch! And also for the card. (Kap Lam, you didn't really think that I was that pro with Mandarin did you?)<br /><br />Thanks a lot also to the rest out there for all the well wishes, namely, Wantan and Clim (Obama_Ho? Lol!!) who wanted to paste their faces into the group picture and also Dj`G_Man for hosting a special session for us on Sexy FM.<br /><br />Again, thanks a bunch guys and gals!!<br /><br />*<span style="font-style: italic;">This post is supposed to have been published on the 23rd of June 2008. Due to certain human errors, the post was stored as draft for 2 months instead of being published.</span>kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-29556025262803172552008-06-10T11:07:00.000-07:002008-06-22T10:46:47.537-07:00Hong Kong, 10/05/08 - Day 4 Part 1Day 4. Where should I go? Anyway, that wasn't exactly the first question that popped up in my head when I first woke up. It was, breakfast!! Ahah! Mealtimes in Hong Kong always got me excited. They were always filled with anticipations and a lil' bit of economic judgment as well. After all, taking a certain lunch set meant that I had to forgo other lucrative options. Mind you, it wasn't easy, that, since I had only one stomach. (Probably my greatest regret in Hong Kong :P)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwCqumHHcyWFyIXZ_W_9Pbf8FgyTwPWN1n73h9IQkNbPa7o26yErCiflPBJN-cqdB8wUmI4tOuVdstlIcBAclyvXl9ohFyecBGbtydo9KJUiR2QvIALvpO2aGdQ3ZmIca1hnNeXI1n_VWa/s1600-h/IMG_6326.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwCqumHHcyWFyIXZ_W_9Pbf8FgyTwPWN1n73h9IQkNbPa7o26yErCiflPBJN-cqdB8wUmI4tOuVdstlIcBAclyvXl9ohFyecBGbtydo9KJUiR2QvIALvpO2aGdQ3ZmIca1hnNeXI1n_VWa/s320/IMG_6326.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210531492548287074" border="0" /></a>With one bowl of wanton mee resting contentedly in my tiny stomach, I set out for my next destination, Sai Kung. The journey was going to take quite awhile. An MTR ride all the way to Hang Hau followed by a bus trip to Sai Kung Waterfront Park awaited.<br /><br />So, I embarked on the MTR ride with my reflection staring back at me from the glass panel across where I sat for the entire journey. I didn't remember having him staring at me for this long before back in Singapore. It was then I realized that there was something lacking from the MTR rides in Hong Kong.<br /><br />The sceneries.<br /><br />All my MTR rides had been underground thus far. Apart from the Airport Express line, all the other railway networks were located below ground level. Probably I hadn't traveled far enough from the core of the city. ( A mental note to travel further if I ever return to Hong Kong)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcc9tM-uiRPitvhCLGeVmlGfJeYxc74z8-VUneWnDlTDCVTgCJwQOUqHZiW7Prto3a3d_L9tt8dymxU5D5iTSuvGrmwk4g5-EAhrLuC_KV69NjCFPzdbNyc9QRd77zl4KrMBJ1G83S5gl5/s1600-h/IMG_6330+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcc9tM-uiRPitvhCLGeVmlGfJeYxc74z8-VUneWnDlTDCVTgCJwQOUqHZiW7Prto3a3d_L9tt8dymxU5D5iTSuvGrmwk4g5-EAhrLuC_KV69NjCFPzdbNyc9QRd77zl4KrMBJ1G83S5gl5/s320/IMG_6330+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212026131675458322" border="0" /></a>Sai Kung Waterfront Park. This place was, home. It felt so much like Penang. Reminiscences, one after the other, slowly crept their ways back into my mind. One couldn't help it but to ponder what could have become of Penang Island today if proper measures were taken to preserve its glory.<br /><br />In a stark contrast to the now dilapidated Gurney Drive, Sai Kung Waterfront Park was so well kept. Overlooking a serene bay, it was the perfect retreat after a furious week of battle in the office. Judging by its location, it was no wonder that this area was frequented by the upper middle class of the society. One could easily tell this just by taking a look at the breed of dogs hurrying alongside them. Very well groomed and rushed about in such a lively manner, the monthly expenditures of those dogs might easily dwarf the living expenses of the less fortunate ones.<br /><br />The other end of the seafront where the jetty was located, was abuzz with activities. Little groups of visitors were crowding around here and there along the edge of the esplanade to inspect the fresh catches brought back by the fishermen after their day of hard work.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBftP5RhWHSwvrNxC_3gKrRxyqMM5v1Wt77Ng5Jj0wc6cj-CS4ZsP-vhetPYucJT_zTpgmAF15F1cwuT1KSDgL0vhYNeXRBFJ2c13PRSojvAOcTADbltAfKENvXJAujOiPgnL7W0snXJO/s1600-h/IMG_6335.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBftP5RhWHSwvrNxC_3gKrRxyqMM5v1Wt77Ng5Jj0wc6cj-CS4ZsP-vhetPYucJT_zTpgmAF15F1cwuT1KSDgL0vhYNeXRBFJ2c13PRSojvAOcTADbltAfKENvXJAujOiPgnL7W0snXJO/s320/IMG_6335.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214750966592682898" border="0" /></a><br />From the dock, just next to where all the fish-mongering was taking place, one could also catch a ferry ride to the outlying islands. Filled with curiosity and also largely due to the seduction posed by the pictures of serene seafronts taken off those outlying isles, I hopped onto the wooden boat for a ride.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiblc5dEnracdqo6MTiuAvXQTwdQ0rEJl3gaCqaPP1u-s3OidItzzPwHBgbgUsUt3yeFq_1Tnx2PknbX0vF-FQ_MAqQ9J8uHDbTBoKoCj0bkDzJZWEZqtP8HbQFYCIMvNLmxpGltDItEyLZ/s1600-h/IMG_6354.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiblc5dEnracdqo6MTiuAvXQTwdQ0rEJl3gaCqaPP1u-s3OidItzzPwHBgbgUsUt3yeFq_1Tnx2PknbX0vF-FQ_MAqQ9J8uHDbTBoKoCj0bkDzJZWEZqtP8HbQFYCIMvNLmxpGltDItEyLZ/s320/IMG_6354.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214749073814322514" border="0" /></a>Anyway, that was probably a wrong choice. The boat took me to an isle about 10 minutes off the quay and I alighted onto Kiu Tsui Beach. Soon, I was to find out that the isle wasn't really a tourist attraction. There wasn't much to see here. I actually finished walking along the accessible seafront in 10 minutes. Worse, the stretch of beach where a, I repeat, A family was having an outing was less than 100m long. Dang.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuw3Gcnq5kvuF2Lx1BHZQ2gBotVv7vu_1Yy8KEFcqgHSXru-UfuMZkRCL9dOftvo86hFVhcuRtgO0DY3tamh4MBFCjeyYPFPNXiMATdrzm-tZ0S3Rd2YeyHL7ceTOAUUJaeD3QfG1TNTH7/s1600-h/IMG_6359+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuw3Gcnq5kvuF2Lx1BHZQ2gBotVv7vu_1Yy8KEFcqgHSXru-UfuMZkRCL9dOftvo86hFVhcuRtgO0DY3tamh4MBFCjeyYPFPNXiMATdrzm-tZ0S3Rd2YeyHL7ceTOAUUJaeD3QfG1TNTH7/s320/IMG_6359+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214759217789743810" border="0" /></a>kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-82215201903504363052008-05-25T02:00:00.001-07:002008-05-26T08:01:06.244-07:00Hong Kong, 09/05/08 - Day 3Alright, this pictorial journey will begin with my visit to The Peak in the late evening of Friday, 9th May 2008. What happened to my afternoon then, you ask? Well, it is a shame, but I deleted all the pictures that I have taken up to that point by accident and hence cannot be included in this pictorial journey. I do not have the perfect recollection of that event anymore but it goes somewhat like this.<br /><br />"I was finally reaching the Lower Peak Tram Terminus when I noticed to my shock that the ticket queue actually snaked its way out to the entrance! Gosh! I should have expected this; I was not the only tourist, plus it was a evening at the beginning of a long weekend. (12 May 2008 was a public holiday in conjunction with Buddha's Birthday: Our version of Wesak Day? Though Wesak Day was celebrated on 19 May2008) Anyway, I fell in line with the queue since I was already there. There were all sorts of people all about, ang mohs here and there, quite a number of PRCs as well and oh, a cute Jap girl!!! With her boyfriend. :(<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhajufFDnUSqMoDc1ptpfbknWe-gxZG7ya8g0AHck5cq2WwfXYK0IPMkUIRDxJ5StIEoR_Sgy3n5XJe0zanGnJeRDenRcioZqe2cwtdxQtK4it-k0NaEM4CoLacYGs7PpyLR7Pp2Nv9uD/s1600-h/IMG_6289.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhajufFDnUSqMoDc1ptpfbknWe-gxZG7ya8g0AHck5cq2WwfXYK0IPMkUIRDxJ5StIEoR_Sgy3n5XJe0zanGnJeRDenRcioZqe2cwtdxQtK4it-k0NaEM4CoLacYGs7PpyLR7Pp2Nv9uD/s320/IMG_6289.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204332381898195794" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So, I was waiting like forever to reach the ticketing booth when a thought dawned upon me. That Jap girl, wasn't she on the same MTR as i was just now? Wait, no. I was thinking if I should check to see if I had enough memory on my SD card for all the shots later. Soon, I was jamming away at the buttons trying to locate the summary screen where it displays the utilization of memory of the card. That magazine she's reading, that's a Jap pop culture mag isn't it? No, no, back to my camera. Ah, here I am! The screen said, Low Level Format: CANCEL/YES.<br /><br />YES.<br /><br />Wait. Low Level Format? Yes?! CRAP!! Stop it!! What are you doing to my pictures, you stupid camera!!"<br /><br />That, more or less sums up how my camera devoured my pictures from the earlier part of my trip. The cause of that accident cannot be immediately determined, I suppose. Whether it is due to the fatigue from lack of sleep and all the walking about or due to er...umm... the noises and distractions, remains a mystery up to this day. :P<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKAW9NLzVWt9rMYXSYWdLxOCPVjo66aMA-Jd4_R01pUf-HpfaTcX35xYi42Km4iwqntUwf2LDiaWjxq41SnwXte2oOyXmJVn4BPTAD-Sg6HauVg_Ti5kl7iTUaXW91llMm8BlucZkq_Zbl/s1600-h/IMG_6296.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKAW9NLzVWt9rMYXSYWdLxOCPVjo66aMA-Jd4_R01pUf-HpfaTcX35xYi42Km4iwqntUwf2LDiaWjxq41SnwXte2oOyXmJVn4BPTAD-Sg6HauVg_Ti5kl7iTUaXW91llMm8BlucZkq_Zbl/s320/IMG_6296.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204334950288638818" border="0" /></a><br />Night was just about to set in when I finally stepped out into the open air Sky Terrace on The Peak. The change in the temperature of the atmosphere was such a welcomed respite after I spent the whole afternoon getting roasted under the sun by walking around the Avenue of Stars. The Sky Terrace offered two contrasting panoramic views: a bird eye's view of the densely packed skyscrapers which is so iconic of Hong Kong while on the other side, one could look across a vast stretch of lush green forests and beyond that, a bay, lying peacefully under the fading sunlight beckoned.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsfBsXzoLq3K3CA5EVB_9jFy0wzkbDBzcrPLrJIsVtzOQ734l0CMJXaSW-PQpFiFxC1XBtgElybG-8F_vaS-p_h4oe89_IraEnM1gTpByoDxaH98BBW5E0mBd4De40pHPcClWeh81RH7B/s1600-h/IMG_6300+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsfBsXzoLq3K3CA5EVB_9jFy0wzkbDBzcrPLrJIsVtzOQ734l0CMJXaSW-PQpFiFxC1XBtgElybG-8F_vaS-p_h4oe89_IraEnM1gTpByoDxaH98BBW5E0mBd4De40pHPcClWeh81RH7B/s320/IMG_6300+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204343720611857266" border="0" /></a><br />Soon, I was busy taking shots of the amazing views while waiting for darkness to come. All around me, visitors were occupied with taking pictures as well; most of them equipped with DSLR and were busy moving from one spot to the other to locate the best angle for the much anticipated night shot. The Sky Terrace seemed to be a popular haunt for families and lovebirds as well. I would soon come to learn later that night how popular it was when I had to wait in queue for almost an hour for the tram to take me back down to the foothill.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixv0g__JZNo2FxV5RldfF0JLcVFWVIVhphFlouc877gfRLU81KXEl-6ym0akCVt7r9wg2BDENCVt5iOAAwRxd7-E1vAgwCGVxHXVd5sUTbTPBplHNT7B8IYwy3cJP6ddEw8UtSA48c0ePS/s1600-h/IMG_6319.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixv0g__JZNo2FxV5RldfF0JLcVFWVIVhphFlouc877gfRLU81KXEl-6ym0akCVt7r9wg2BDENCVt5iOAAwRxd7-E1vAgwCGVxHXVd5sUTbTPBplHNT7B8IYwy3cJP6ddEw8UtSA48c0ePS/s320/IMG_6319.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204686562081293186" border="0" /></a>As the world around me dimmed, the temperature dropped as well. It was not long before I felt the cold biting into my skin with each puff of the wind. Slowly, the city of Hong Kong began to light up in a marvelous, rich tapestry of colors. Sadly, among the skyscrapers with the more strutting display of lights, I only knew the name of one: the Bank of China Tower.<br /><br />Anyway, night was finally here. Before us, Hong Kong basked proudly in the lights of the city. Tall buildings, one after the other showered by the warm luminous glow, stood majestically amidst the enshrouding darkness. The whole metropolis looked vibrant and seemed to burst with life as the decorative lightings of the buildings changed from time to time in their own rhythm.<br /><br />This, clearly was the product of capitalism I thought. Those staying in the apartments and condominiums below probably bought decorative lamps from IKEA to liven up their living room. Further away from here, the less fortunate ones were probably forced to 'decorate' their living quarters with the lights from the commercial signboards on the streets since the buildings were all so close to each other. On the other hand, the unimaginably rich, who lived in the mansions even higher up from where I was, had those skyscrapers lit up at night to serve as decorations in their living room. When the curtains in their living rooms were parted, they had the whole city of Hong Kong beneath their feet. Capitalism, good or bad? You decide.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzR8OUgTekMXIZrGwilbutOyxGwOXSqdudH7UQyED9GtjoKouiF3Gt2yzLChbOpVbCIW1Y9TycgA51PjWdAeSxrbLDnAWf4E63xgBE_3TyqCKw4vnfGQoGA0Z3vUh0on7dbf8YfOuWLp8K/s1600-h/IMG_6322.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzR8OUgTekMXIZrGwilbutOyxGwOXSqdudH7UQyED9GtjoKouiF3Gt2yzLChbOpVbCIW1Y9TycgA51PjWdAeSxrbLDnAWf4E63xgBE_3TyqCKw4vnfGQoGA0Z3vUh0on7dbf8YfOuWLp8K/s320/IMG_6322.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204700404760888210" border="0" /></a>kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182238352913225267.post-13236484218935415982008-05-15T11:13:00.001-07:002008-05-26T08:00:03.356-07:00An Early StartThe air was cool. As I carried my baggage down the four flights of stairs, a gentle breeze stirred and sent a chill through my body. It was 5 am; I was still early, I thought to myself for the umpteenth time. I had been keeping watch of the time ever since I woke up in that wee hour of the morning. One could never be too cautious when he had a schedule to follow.<br /><br />After a bit of heaving and a stop in between, I was finally at ground level with the baggage at my side. I made my way towards the entrance of hall of residence, pulling the wheeled baggage along behind me. Rrraatttaaaa....Rrrraatttaaaaa..... The sound echoed across the quiet open space between block 45 and block 46 as the wheels rolled against the brick pavement.<br /><br />I came to a stop at the junction leading into the Hall 9 residential area and looked left and right for a cab. Towards my left, the road ran along in a straight line until it reached a crossroad just after the Hall 11 residential area. Beyond the crossroad, it was darkness. Towards my right, the road sloped upwards, veering in the right direction all the way until it disappeared from sight behind block 41. In both directions, the road was empty. 5.05 am; I was still early.<br /><br />Lady Luck was with me that morning. It was not long before a taxi zoomed past and dropped its passengers at the apartment block opposite where I waited. I seized the opportunity and hailed the cab as soon as it was turning out from the apartment block and soon I was speeding along the empty streets.<br /><br />"Uncle, do you know what time the first train is?" I asked the cab driver after I had directed him to the Jurong East MRT Station.<br /><br />"Oh, I'm not sure about that. Five forty five or six. Six fifteen even! Maybe. Why? Where do you want to go?" came the reply.<br /><br />"I need to catch a plane at the Changi airport at eight thirty," I told him.<br /><br />"Ah, I see! Well, how about this then? I'm on my way back to my house in Yishun as well. I can just take you all the way there. Five dollars discount. How about it?"<br /><br />"Err, no. It's alright. I'll be too early if I head directly towards Changi airport now." I insisted.<br /><br />It turned out that the first train departed from Jurong East towards Boon Lay at 5.15 a.m. It would take another half an hour before the train turned back to Jurong East to pick passengers for the trip in the other direction. So, finally, off I went on my mini trip away from Jurong at exactly 5.45 a.m.kerweihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04244917788877909279noreply@blogger.com0