Only lord of the castle

And so it happens again. As much as modern technology promises to conquer distances and 'bring people together', I find myself terribly worn out and vitally exhausted as I once again concluded a journey to the south(east). I find that as we grow older, many things that we once thought are bearable, grows increasingly difficult to accomplish. The 'too old for this' argue net, some calls it.


And the story continues with our barbarian, a new man in a new land, as he continues his exile from home. With his new identity, the knight soon found himself in the company of a different sort of crowd, neither to and against his wishes. He now partakes in dinner parties and Saturday afternoon brunches. Gone were the days where he would walk miles to find the nearest watering hole to quench his thirst, now he's surrounded by lords too willing but to lend him their horses. Things were looking good, in fact, the barbarian was enjoying it so much that the memory of those barbaric times seems to belong to another person in another time.


Yet, as we always know, good times does not seem to last in stories, nor in life. Through the dinners, brunches and literary events, the knight found himself the lord of a far away castle, master of the wild lands of the far north. The first few months were happy, as the knight commander fed off the fat of the land. Yet, the easy life has taken a subtle toll on him. Gone was his spirit and his battle readiness. And in his haste of accepting this new role of command and the experiences he will have, he ignored his rusty battle arts, and his lack of a weapon after the events that led to his exile. And, as with every changing of hands of land, there are always those who would 'try their luck' so to speak. A group of bandits, a thousand man strong, soon gathered at the gates of the castle demanding gold, women and plunder.


News of the rebels soon reached the ears of the barbarian and he marched into battle, with whatever little troops he had. A thousand rebels isn't a big number, and his days as a knight has trained him to battle with numbers far beyond the current small patch of thugs gathered outside his door. Yet, a battle is a battle, and the knight called for his messengers to summon his bannermen. And it is then he realised, how far away his bannermen are from him. His mind turned to the lords of the nearby lands, who was willing, to commit here and there, 'a dozen of my finest horsemen' or '10 of my most trusted archers'. But none so as willing to march full scale to his castle like his bannermen of old.


And the knight wonders, when will he reunite with his friends again.


- Written this lonely day as the sole lord of the castle.


Till next time.

When johnny come marching home again.Hurrah.hurrah.

We'll give him a hearty welcome then.hurrah.hurrah.

And we'll all feel gay when johnny comes marching home.

Of titles and insignificance

So, as i was walking home today. A post finally started to shape in my head. There was finally something i'd like to talk about. Something, that with the events of tonight, suddenly feels insignificant. But to not write it will perhaps be a pity, and perhaps i will regret it in the future as forgetfulness takes it from me. So here goes.

Its about titles. Titles have always appealed to me. If someone's name has a 'Sir', a 'Lord' or even a 'Dato' in front of it, i automatically sit a little more upright, and listen a little closer to what he has to say. Same for someone with say, a 'Prof.' or 'Dr.' or 'Chief Justice'. And perhaps its immature, and very rightly so, that i put any notice to titles as such. It has to do somehow and somewhat from all those old chinese legends i grew up with, the 108 heroes of the marsh, the 5 tiger generals, the 7 demigods, and those chinese martial arts novels, each hero with a title of his own. Or perhaps its King arthur and his knights. Or maybe its arises from my chinese parentage, of feudal lords, and marquisses of the plains, of honor(pride) to the family (Actually the literal translation of my chinese name). And i may have mentioned it somewhere before, but somewhere along my motivation to do medicine, as my degree and my future career, is a dark streak, a little dark cloud in the clear skies that is idealism.

And i am not afraid to admit it, i am not proud of it, but it certainly is there and it would be foolish and perhaps worse to try ignore or hide it. Fame appeals to me. Not your rockstar-hollywood-harrisonford kind of fame. But the heroic kind, the florence nightingales and Hua Tuos and apricot groves and medicine. And once again, i'm not proud of it. People do not achieve such fame by wanting such fame. But its again one of those things that i struggle with when my mind is free of books and knowledge. I am motivated by money only by lottery, motivated by power only if it holds fame and reknown, sad, but sadly true. And its a daily battle i fight, to not give in to these temptations and stay on my ideals. And its not easy.

And its there where my thoughts end as i pull out my keys and enter my apartment. And there's a story somewhere about how my stethoscope looks both like a snake and a hangman's noose, but is so absolutely essential for survival of the patient. And perhaps one day, i'll write that story. That battle between light and dark.

And then comes that sudden reminder, of how utterly selfish and pointless my thoughts were. of how in the big picture, all of these seems of little or no significance.

One voice. Just one voice.

You know what, i had time to think about the whole Sun Xu thing and i decided to add this.

I'm on his side now. I rather full freedom of speech than none.

A tale of two cities

Just been reading on the whole 'dogs' incident as well as its related post. And truth be told, i feel its a little blown out of proportion. Here is a man, scolding another man because man B pissed him off. Exactly what i would have done, and what many whatever they may say, would have done. I'm not saying what he did was right, but that what he did was common place. And we need some freedom of speech anyway. And that includes, fortunately and unfortunately, giving the old 'up yours' in the modern fashion.

I just led me to think once again about my dual identity, both as a malaysian, and as a singaporean. Yes, i am not a citizen yet, but if circumstances permit, i fully wish to become one, and i've did my part in NS and whatever bullcrap opposers of foreigners talented or otherwise likes to throw forward when faced with increasing competition for their jobs.

http://temasektimes.wordpress.com/2012/03/02/exclusive-ex-moe-prc-scholar-left-singapore-for-good-to-start-company-in-china/

Unlike this person, I'm not under any scholarship in singapore, in fact, i've been rejected by almost every school i've applied for in singapore. I started out in a school that started on the same day i started school in Singapore. I got in to my secondary school despite being out of the qualifying score published in the school selection handbook by the MOE. I got into my JC of choice after an appeal. And most recently, i was denied a place in NUS to study medicine.

But that has nothing to do with anything.

The only reason i'm writing this post is to say. Yes. Its possible to feel like you belong to two places. And Yes. Dual citizenship should be allowed, in my humble opinion. And if you ask me who's side i'll be on in case of say a war. I'd say up yours, and be found in the nearest operating bar enjoying a quite drink, a la wolverine in first class.

9pm. Kid looks up at the enormous machine he now knows as a plane. Funny, he thought people rode on the top of planes like he read in those books, not too different from say, a flying carpet.

9.30pm. Big sister on the plane performs a wonderful charade of things falling from the sky in bright yellow costumes with so many interesting gadgets. wants to touch and play with some of them, but am firmly locked in place by mum. Looks expectantly at mum to be released.

9.45pm. Lights dimmed. Sensation of being thrown backwards. Loud noises coming from unknown sources. Cries for faith.

9.50pm. Wonderful display of lights out of the window. small cars seems to be moving on small roads, whose's toys are these? stops crying. Wonders how is it that i am flying.

9.55pm. Wonders too much about how am i flying. Lost faith in magic for a moment. Plane jerks. Scared. Cries. Concludes planes flies on faith.

and so it goes again. Another holiday comes and goes. This holiday have been weird. It started with a lot of drive and ambition, of dreams of things to accomplish. It then dies off, which by observation, seems to occur at increasingly common rates to me. And to be honest, i really have no idea why. I could blame medicine, and its immense workload, and with it the lack of time and energy to pursue any other train of thought, or my many other interests. It could be, the beginning of the death of my dreams. Or it could be, that morpheus died a couple of years back and i just wasn't able to remember the funeral, or that daniel is now in the dream throne and that all i am experiencing now is a different form of dreams. Of perhaps the uke, and the fantasy world of games. Or perhaps that's me just being too distracted.

Or maybe i lack a muse. nah. not an excuse. i blame having games on my computer. I think they're taking my soul away.

Someone help! haha.

And this year. I wish to be water, my friend.

And its once again 11/12, That fateful night of which 22 years ago, i was born to this world. It has been a good year, definitely. My 2 new ukes, finishing pre-clins, awesome food, awesome people, and then nepal. One might think it would be difficult to match that and next year will fail to live up to expectations. After all, this year was not without its disappointments, with some of them threatening to manifest into even greater disappointments by this time next year. But then again, i think its impossible to feel bad on your birthday. And then there's the lunar eclipse of course, which makes the occasion perhaps, even rarer.

Thank you everyone.

Nepal

And there are two explainations for my lack of posts, both for the significant milestone of the ending of my pre-clinical years and my great trip to the land of Never Ending Peace And Love (NEPAL for short). One of them is simple, its down to pure, utter laziness and a good dose of procastination. Another is more grand, sounds better, but many would dismiss it as an excuse, but to me its somewhat true. I find myself liking to wait a few days, a week or two, and let the initial euphoria die off before thinking back about it and then writing a few words. It makes for good reflection, or so i hope.

So.

Nepal in one word, was amazing. You know it is a good day when you wake up in a freezing temperature to see the sun slowly illuminating first the more distant hills, then the nearer ones, then finally shining on the one you are on. Then eat a simple meal prepared by monks before heading out to treat the ill and needy, and finally rounding off the days being swarmed by local children as you sculpt and handout balloons. I don't mind being the pied piper of balloons, its kinda fun. There are hardly any traffic lights in nepal, and horns are used excessively on the roads, there are hardly any big cars, and i don't think anyone could navigate as well as they could in any part of the world. There are of course, also snow mountains, visible within a couple of hours trek for any local in any town perhaps. It is something too, to sit on the plane, and point and say, that's the highest point of our planet. Its something surreal, something explainably cool about it. I have not climbed it, but now i live to tell my descendants that I, saw the top of the world. And maybe, just perhaps one day, I would climb it.

I could go on and on, but that would just defeat the purpose of this post. But truth be told, i miss Kathmandu, i miss its busy streets and crowded neighbourhoods, its messy traffic and its colourful history. Of course, all this from the comfort of the Hyatt Regency.

There's a song somewhere in scraps of paper i wrote about Kathmandu. Hopefully i could find it.

Till then.

Namaste.