Art of labour

This was what happened last night:

8.00pm - Puked
10.30pm - Puked
2.30am - Puked
4.00am - Puked
7.30am - Got ready to puke but it didn't happen.

Sigh. Don't even get me started on what I saw in the toilet bowl.

Gee, whats wrong with me.

Seriously, puking needs a lot of energy.Supposedly it feels like one time I puked = the energy needed for one child labour. Imagine how many times that happened last night alone. I'm seriously in need of ORS and KJs.

Correction: Now that I'm actually thinking about it, perhaps labour is twice the energy + pain + lost of blood + compromise of uterus. *shakes head*

The redundancy of the experience just shows that there is really no celebration needed for birth days. How can one find a cause for celebration when it also represents the day of utter pain and exhaustion (pardon me but it's a matter of life and death for some) to mothers?

Besides, that's not all, the pain will severely be felt probably double the initial one during labour when after ten years of motherhood, they find their child being brutally raped and killed by some sick pervert. (Condolences to Nurin Jazlin's parents - I hope they get that person really soon and screw the law for negligence!)

So much for ranting this bright morning, I know what you're thinking but I'm not pregnant.

By the inches

I don't know what to say really.

You know when you get old in life;


Things get taken away from you.
I mean that's part of life
but you only learn that when you start losing stuffs.

One day you'll find out that life is a game of inches
so is football


because in either game, in life or football, the margin for error is so small.


I mean


one half a step too late or too early
and you don't quite make it.


One half second too slow or too fast
and you don't quite catch it.

The inches we need are everywhere areound us.


They're in every break of the game,
every minute,
every second.


On this day


we fight
for that inch.


On this day


we tear ourselves and everyone around us to pieces
for that inch.



we claw with our fingernails
for that inch.

Because we know,
when we add up all those inches,
that is going to make the fucking difference


between winning and losing.


between living and dying.

And I'll tell you this


in any fight;
it’s the guy who is willing to die that is going to win that inch.
And I know
if I am going to have any life anymore
it’s because I’m still willing to fight and die
for that inch.

Because that’s what living is
the six inches in front of your face.

Now I can't make you do it.


You got to look at that person inside your heart
look into his eyes
and I think you're going to see a guy who will go that inch with you.
You will see that guy
who will sacrifice himself for you
because he knows when it comes down to it
you're going to do the same thing for him.


That’s life, ladies and gentlemen.

That’s all it is.

Now, what are you going to do?

Don't be evil

Even for the most skeptical, belief is an absolute necessity for practical experience. At the very least, we have to have faith that the material world will continue in its accustomed ways, that tomorrow as today iron will be hard and clay soft, that objects will continue to fall toward the earth instead of flying off into the sky. Even in the less certain and less easily analyzed realm of human character, we constantly act on beliefs – that a soft answer will turn away wrath, that a veteran soldier will fight bravely, that a mother will love and protect her children, that the mailman will deliver the mail instead of stealing it. Without belief, action would be paralyzed; we should never know what to do in a given situation. What really distinguishes the rational from the irrational thinker is not the presence or absence of belief, but the grounds on which belief is accepted.

Last week, I encountered one of the first experiences in life where I was criticized and judged without absolute proof. It is undeniable that conflicts do occur when strangers are grouped together and forced to complete assignments in a limited time constraint. Nonetheless, what ensued after my first assignment was impossible for me to accept. One of my team members had decided to give me a full appraisal and made up a peer review post in her blog. Needless to say, I was claimed to be ‘irresponsible’ and ‘wanting the glory all to myself.’ Since the word ‘irresponsible’ implies negative attitude for something the writer approves of, I thought it was good to simply ignore her complain as we all have differing conception of what constitutes irresponsibility. Besides it was also because an element of personal feeling had obviously entered in.

Despite the above rationale, I lost it and confronted her about her actions. Instead of solving the matter I was treated to a whole long lecture about how I should have reflected on my own actions and think clearer why I am offended by her words. Of course she reminded me that it was her blog and that I didn’t have to read if I didn’t like it, that she can write whatever she wants and told me she is being very civil towards me with the hope that I am mature enough to do the same.

After trying to talk things out, I decided it was best that I leave her with her evil thoughts about me and continue living my technicolor life like normal. She clearly wasn’t prepared to listen to anything I have to say. One thing for sure, her claim that I wanted glory, fame and attention to myself was definitely wrong. I didn’t want anything.

At times, we will get hurt and sad when we don't get the things we want so badly. But often the ones who get hurt and sad are the ones who don't know what they really want.

And I don't even know which category do I fall in now.

So I stopped justifying myself; because no matter how far I fight to deny her judgment, I still cannot prove her statement false by reference to material facts. However, though such assumptions affect the least of our human values and personality, we should at least try to avoid these statements, all too common in controversy, which do nothing more than express feeling or prejudice. Definitely one cannot deduce ANYTHING from a feeling; but then again.

Ai, entahlah apa yang aku duk merepek ni kan?

Curiousity

May have killed the cat. More likely,
The cat was just unlucky, or else curious
To see what death was like, having no cause
To go on licking paws, or fathering
Litter on liter of kittens, predictably.

Nevertheless, to be curious
Is dangerous enough. To distrust
What is always said, what seems,
To ask odd questions, interfere in dreams,
Smell rats, leave home, have hunches,
Does not endear cats to those doggy circles
Where well-smelt baskets, suitable wives, good lunches
Are the order of things, and where prevails
Much wagging of incurious heads and tails.

Face it. Curiousity
Will not cause us to die-
Only lack of it will.
Never to want to see
The other side of the hill
Or that improbable country
Where living is an idyll (although a probably hell)
Would kill us all
Only the curious have if they live a tale
Worth telling at all.

Dogs say cats love too much, are irresponsible,
Are dangerous, marry too many wives,
Desert their children, chill all dinner tables
With tales of their nine lives

Well, they are lucky. Let them be
Nine lived and contradictory
Curious enough to change, prepared to pay
The cat-price which is to die
And die again and again
Each time with no less pain
A cat minority of one
Is all that can be counted on
To tell the truth; and what cats have to tell
On each return from hell
Is this: that dying is what the living do
That dying is what the loving do
And that dead dogs are those who never know
That dying is what, to live, each has to do.


If anyone of you understands this contemporary poem, please don't hesitate to translate them.