How to live peacefully and happily?

A few days ago, a friend replied my message saying, "Don't pressure yourself by speculating what others think of yourself."

Yea, I like that word "speculating". He knew me so well. I just can't stop thinking of how others think of me and for the past 32 years, I've been living miserably because when someone did not smile at me or did not reply my SMS, I'll "speculate" whether a wrong had been done and what I should be doing next. Sometimes I even sacrificed my sleeping time to think of it which caused me sleepless nights and insomnia.

I have tough time with myself. This friend who advised me has known me for 14 years. Flashing back 14 years ago, we studied in the same school for Form 6. I had hated him for he gave me the impression of a proud guy who thought he knew best and for some time I refused to talk to him though we were committee members in the same society. It was after some time that I asked him and he explained. I was astonished at how he could ignore what others think of him. He said it's of no use spending time thinking of what others think of ourselves. If they are not satisfied with us, they'll come to talk to us. Otherwise, stop wasting time doing that. 

It's so enlightening! I've put myself in a prison for so long and I really deserve a knock on my head. For the past weeks, I've also "speculated" on how a friend who used to talk to me often did not even want to talk to me. It made me so sad. I started to think what made her refused to talk to me and was it something I said in our previous conversations. Whatever it is, if you're not satisfied with me or what I do, come to me and talk about it. I want to stop "speculating" what you may think of me!

Thanks Ching Leong for your message. You help me grow. 

I miss you, Dad!

When I was a child and as far as I could remember, I loved spending time in family outing. Wherever Dad and Mom went, I tagged along. The outing I liked most was trips to Port Dickson or Morib beach or Mimaland Water Theme Park. Dad knew how to swim but I did not. So, it was always secured to stay near him. Every Saturday, Dad would drop us off at the library before he went to work. Then, he would pick us up at 4pm and took us to A&W for ice-cream waffle. Those were the best days in my life. Then, Grandma passed away and Dad had to become a real Dad and look for a better job to be the sole bread winner (Previously he depended his expenses on Grandma). Since then, I hardly see Dad. When he was back, we were already asleep. When we woke up, he had already gone to work. Days, months, years passed and we were all grown up. Dad realised he missed a lot when I entered Form 6. He started to find time to talk to me which I disgusted most. I did not like being treated like a little girl anymore. Yea, he treated me like an eight-year old! "Daught, have you eaten? Is the food delicious? Blah, blah, blah.." He asked me tonnes of questions and at that time, I felt either of us was an idiot to have ask or answer those questions. And I went to the counsellor, a great Christian teacher and she gave me invaluable advices. I changed. During varsity years, though being far away from home, I felt near because Dad called me almost every day. He gave me support mentally and when I graduated from the university, he drove me around for interviews. 

He knew I have a dream to become a famous author. When my first batch of books was published, he distributed the sample copies to relatives and friends. I was embarrassed by his action but was deeply touched for he was the only one who would praise me. Mom was too embarrassed to even mention about my books. (Yea, can't blame her. I think my stories suck too!) There was no one in my life who has praised me except Dad. Though he fell ill in 2007, we thought he would last longer because Doc did not say about death possibility. He was doing well. Even when he was admitted into the hospital for diarrhoea, doctor said he was recovering fast and could be discharged the following day. But the next day while I was rushing through my Master degree assignment, brother called to inform that Dad was vomiting blood and that was when I trembled and tears poured out uncontrollably because I knew he would not be surviving. Indeed, he died the next morning. I lost all hope in continuing my Master's. I had four exams to take, two presentations and two assignments due in one month time. I collapsed and cried so hard because I lost my one and only supporter, one who believed that I can achieve my dream though everyone around think I would fail. I had lost my best buddy who gave time to hear about my lamentations and one who without fail repeated his life's motto: "Never a loser until you quit!" to me. I was lost. 

Brother told me, if I were to let Dad rest in peace, that was the time and I should hold my head high and finished off everything I should. I did and that semester I scored 2 As and 2 Bs. 

Fast forward 5 years, relatives said I should be going back to my hometown often to "pay respect" and put forth "food" for Dad. They considered me unfilial for not doing so. I felt I've done my part. So long I respected him while he was alive, that was the most crucial part of all. Come to think about it, where were they when Dad needed encouragement most? I miss him not only on the Qing Ming day but almost every day because I know what love really means...

What is wrong with good?

I have always been good. I've always thought that "good" is enough. But there is a problem with it.

Recently, I heard a recorded talk on the Jews education. It is a tremendous findings to me. Why Jews are so successful in the world? Though their population is little, they survive through the years and yet, become the most successful people in the whole world. Say for example, 7 out of 8 movie companies are owned by the Jews. Why the Swiss watches are known for the quality? Because the Jews did not settle for good. They settle for the BEST. Whatever they do, they strive to be the best so that the glory may be given to the Lord.

Good is not enough. I thought being in the first class was enough. I should opt to be the first among the best, shouldn't I? I thought scoring above 3.0 CGPA was good enough. But isn't 4.0 CGPA is far better and I would have gained a scholarship to overseas for my Master degree!

Life could be better if I had strive for the best instead of being just good.

Where to find fairness?

Malaysians are hit by the recent blow of General Election 13 (GE13). There are numerous news about fraudulent happened during the whole voting as well as during the counting of votes session. After those 5 years of campaigning and when most of the people thought that "Ini kalilah" (This is the time) to change the government for a better future, Malaysians are hit by the blow that the dream could not be realised!

This Monday people everywhere were seen wearing black to show their dissatisfaction towards the result. Today, a rally is held (508) in Kelana Jaya to voice out the dissatisfaction in a calm manner. What do the people want? People want fairness. People want everyone to be treated equally. 

Can we? 

I guess only God knows and only with God can we have the word "fair" because He is the only one who is just and righteous. 

May God bless our country. Peace, peace, peace. 

P/S: We are all human with flesh and blood. We cry, we bleed, we hurt. Please don't alienate us or brand us according to our colour, race or religion. We are one - HUMAN! 

Kane and Abel

I've just finished reading Jeffrey Archer's Kane and Abel, a 545 pages book from cover to cover. Frankly, it was my first time to read Archer's book and also first time to be able to finish such long book within 3 days with my son around. 

The book, being one of the bestsellers of Archer's and also one of the best liked book by Archer himself has made its imprint into my heart for the past few days. Archer's skill in weaving the plots and characters in the story made you want to bury your head in the book and do nothing else. And so was the guilt of letting my son watch Toy Story 2 while I finished the last chapters of the book this morning. 

From the start of the story, you would be captured by how Archer carved out the first character in the story, Wladek or later known as Abel. Then you would also fall in love with William, described as tall and handsome and many more...

There are a few that I don't quite like about the story. First, should there be so many adultery or involvement of sex in the story? The plots themselves are sufficient to entice one to read on without having so many of the "seductive" ones. Another dislike was on how Archer kills the characters in the story. You just could not fall in love with the characters because soon it would be killed. That's how sad the story was. I have to admit I cried more than three times reading the story. It hurt me to know that Leon has to die due to his protective action of shielding Wladek from the butt of a rifle; Florentyna has to die after being raped by 16 Russian soldiers, William's father death in Titanic, and so on...The story is filled with bloodshed and deaths. 

The last part of the story, which I wanted it to be a happy ending turned out to be sad - William died before he managed to see his daughter-in-law and grandchildren for the first time! I was devastated. How could Archer end the story like that? I mean, isn't the feud between William and Abel long enough to make them kindle and be friends before one of them die? 

And the father-daughter relationship between Abel and Florentyna made me mesmerised those moments I shared with  my late Dad. Dad was so much like the aged Abel, just that he was not as shrewd. But how I wish that the story would end as in Abel knew that William was his benefactor and that should kindle the rivals between both of them. 

Overall, the story made me cry and made me built walls around myself and it would be for days before I could rejoin the real world again for the general election. It is painful to live in a self-made world. I guess this is what people called, "detachment anxiety" from the world we have created through reading a story, just like how Harry Porter had also deeply injected into my heart. Oh, how could these people write into others' hearts? I should learn...

TITLE      : KANE AND ABEL
AUTHOR : JEFFREY ARCHER