Sunday, April 27, 2003

What do you want to be when you grow up? Part I of II

Almost everybody had been posed of this question as a child by either our teachers or parents. It’s a harmless question to the young mind, giving us insight of the child’s mind and imagination. I suppose it is here that when this question was first asked, it has a powerful impact on the child. Subconsciously, we’re formatting templates of his future.

Hypothetically, if we posit such a question to a child and he answers incoherently, say, he wants to be a gardener when he grows up; what are the chances, we would take the child seriously, or wave it off as a wonderment instead? The typical parent or adult would perhaps frown at the answer because of all the profession in the world, this child wants to be a gardener. Gardeners don’t make a lot of money do they? He would better off being a doctor, an engineer or a lawyer. Right?

Perhaps, he is the lucky one. Some parents do not give the child allowance to imagine what he wants to be when he grows up. His parents had already predetermined his future. It is here that most of us fail to realize the dangers of such preprogramming of a child’s mind. What is so wrong for a child wanting to be a gardener? It is an honest living.

To realize this, we have to stretch our own imagination and look beyond, say, Gardener. My own opinion would led me to deduce that a) the child has a love for nature specifically flora; b) the child had subconsciously projected his deeper thoughts of living in a better world; or c) it could be that he was just plainly answering the question without much thought.

Kids do not generally think the way adults do. They do not have the sense of reality surrounding them the way we as adults perceive it. No inhibitions. Their mind executes very basic and primary thoughts, untainted by negated thinking. A fun illustration would be available to those who had watched Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Where Master Yoda asked the little padawans of OB One’s missing planet. The answer may come out naïve but the truth behind it undeniable.

As adults, we pride ourselves as more knowledgeable than kids. That’s why we are always right and they, infinitely in the wrong. Hey, I mean if the kid’s wanting to be a Gardener, that’s no good, right? We as adults knew better so, we penalize and scrutinize the kid for wanting to be a Gardener. Engineers make good money. So shall it be and so shall it be written!

As we leave the bewildered child to his thoughts, a constant debate goes on. Moral code of ethics (parents) vs insignificant child dreams. The child will, more often than not, follow his parents’ wishes. Thus, the programming is done, a template is set but to be challenged again only when he reach adolescence. If the imprint is strong, it’ll perhaps linger till adulthood and might mess up the poor kid’s life!

Monday, April 21, 2003

Welcome Back

For the last couple of weeks I felt as if my life had some indication of normalcy. Until I realized that was so because I was focusing on this gig project. Otherwise I would've been a wandering ghost. My inner thoughts would threaten to overwhelm if I hadn't kept my mental defenses up.
Last night I had preludes of a revelation. I am getting more and more confident where my life should be heading.
A dear friend of mine exclaimed a Welcome Back! to me a fortnight ago. I thought nothing at that moment as I was too busy revelling the after taste of a good time moments before. My lone walk home, as usual, provided the time for reflection. And the good natured exclamation of my friend seized me.
Where did I go? Have I gone somewhere twilight that everyone else knew but my own faculties failed to register?
If I'm good with words, emoting; perhaps I could provide the answers to the loss he felt when I was seemingly gone. Alas, my toungue is detached off my soul and regardless of the debates & speeches I've made, this one I can't find the words. Chuckling to myself, I remembered of another friend whom diagnosed my condition as mutism, whatever the hell that is.
I suppose the correct term could be detachment. Although I appreciate the fuss and prompts of those closest to me, sometimes I suffocate. A mental claustrophobia amounting, I lash out to break free. I am already transparent. Is there a need for any more transparency? It is this quality that scares my potential mates. All that I can say right here, right now, echoing my own article of Numb; I am a free spirit seeking impossible bounds of the boundless.
But bounded I am still. I am human and my vessel proves it. If ever I take off in pursuit of uncertainties, I pray you not lose me for you never will when you have faith in me. In the end isn't it faith that always brings us back? I am back, parts of me. But I thank you for your exclamations are the trumpets for my returns. I am welcomed back, I am grounded.

Tuesday, April 15, 2003

Caught In Friendly Fire

Today I met a flower. Beautiful, cheerful, hopeful. That is what she appear to me, this flower. Literally bouncing with joy within; it made her pollen bee buzz off, intimidated at first. A fellow hymeneptra, I am a threat. Or was she a fool or being fooled by the lullaby, snugged pits of her benefactors? I am neither a threat nor am I threatened. I simply was overjoyed at the sight of this flower, eversince she was a bud. Happy thoughts bridged our moments until a shot was fired in the air.
Awaken off my revelrie, I realised, I wept. This flower is none the wiser. Beautiful and innocent, she is rooted and welcome visits from bees and butterflies. Cultured she was, protected she is.
My flower, if it is within my locus, I'd shelter you from fires that draws near. As I flew away, I acknowledge the buzzing bee. Perhaps, he will be good for I do wish to deliver my paralyzing sting on a lesser hymeneptra. A bee is a vegetarian, I suppose whereas I'm a carnivore. I dread at the truth my flower will learn as she will be caught in the drawing fires of her own inquisition. She is that that a honey bee can't resist.
As I type down these words I wonder about those I knew that were severed from me? From us? Do they too require our condolences printed in our daily brain staple?
I too was caught in this friendly fire, I am licking my wounds still. I am a survivor. I wonder about my flower...

Monday, April 14, 2003


Hey kids, listen up! I will be organizing a gig with a theme tributing to 70s & 80s Rock music. (think Led Zeppelin & stuff like that)
Here are the details if u guys are interested.

Venue: Woodlands CC
Date: 5.7.2003, Saturday.
Time: 1400 - 2100
Admission: $10.00 + 1 cd (Urbankarma's new album, Intifada Musica.)
Featuring: Malik Malmsteen, Spellbound, 7 Pound Vein, Metalheads, Urbankarma
Organizers: Lee Kwong Seng, Woodlands CC, RedZone.

Who are these guys??? If y'all are fans and supporters of local music scene or; if u guys are Mat Rock, Malik, Spellbound & Metalheads are no strangers. For the benefit of the doubt, these acts are really hot musicians from the last 2 decades or so and are still burning now! 7 Pound Vein: I'd say these guys are better than POD and Linkin Park!
Urbankarma: nominated for Best Band in APM 2001, played gigs in KL and made tv appearences. Plus they hev one helluva a guy to guide them! Need I say more???

I kinda made this gig in a value fer money package. For $10, u get to listen to great local talents in a possible air-conditioned environment. And if they seem to suck to u, at least u get a brand new cd out of it! And please please pleeeease not ask me for complimentary passes! The proceeds are going to the cost of this project & the management and of course, the bands. Maybe my next blog, I'll tell a little story of the local music industry & its social infinites. Other than that, I'd guarantee it'll be worth ur time & money. The last one I did was real good, cept fer the whole POD thingy! Spread the WORD!

Friday, April 04, 2003

I've been watching alot of news from cable tv lately and I am amused. Not that I am sado masochistic, just amused at the way the media works.
Recently, the Big Daddy asked me if I could make a song out of his angry poem - The Bravehearts of Babylon. I had to admit as I was laughing my head off, conversing with this bucket mentor of mine, he sounded like an Angry Young Man! However, knowing sadness is what the poem conveys albeit the angry words, a familiar tune ran its notes over my mental staff lines. A song from way back - The Gates of Babylon. It came to an abrupt pause when I recalled the meaning of the song. In a split second, imaginary chords rang in my head. Soon, I was humming to the poem that the Old Man was bragging about. I jotted down a few notes when I got home. But for now, I have to put that aside cos I'm swamped with Urbankarma's project. It's been a real trying period for all of us and I have a gut feeling that something ugly is rearing its ugly head round the corner. I am wary but unworried. I got the nerves to match my godfather's, Mr SES. The visions we shared needs some getting used to, though.

Anyway, in the spirit of Against Vulgar Display of Power, here's pieces of my contribution, my intifada in my context.

We knew our kind are a race of mass destruction but;
Behold, thy Lord said to the angels: "I will create vicegerent on earth." They said: "Wilt thou place therein one who will make mischief therein & shed blood? - whilst we do celebrate Thy praises & glorify Thy holy(name)?"
He said: "I know what ye know not."
(Al Baqarah 2:30)

And to those whom we knew our mortal enemies;
Fain would they deceive God & those who believe, but they only deceive themselves, & realise (it) not! In their hearts is a disease; and God increased their disease: and grievious is the penalty they (incur), because they are false (to themselves). (Al Baqarah 2:9-11)'d they act?
Their similitude is that of a man who kindled a fire; when it lighted all around him, God took away their light & left them in utter darkness. So they could not see. (Al Baqarah 2:17-18)

Another poem for another.....

Blind census by aredz

Fear is the element that will consume
Right off your bed & straight into your tomb
Fear is that something you don't comprehend
Or fail to? Or refuse? That when you did, you made no amends

O ye who believes; It will consume.

Blind is what you choose
Over millions of visions of truth
Blind are the visionary
Whose fear shaped children's life-wrenching noose

O ye who believes; It will be their tomb

Pride you fear to lose as vanity prevails
Bring your hand down to clamp mouths of those who wailed
Deafening the silence that grows louder each day
Deaf to deaths as your parable, you give away

O ye who believes; the deafening silence of those slain

Do you not know what you had done?
Do you not see the tears scarred face in the light of the blinding sun?
Do you not hear the heart wrenching cries of fathers in the arms of their dying sons?
The blood that weeps in the womb of their daughters?
The tears that bleeds for a fallen mother?

O ye who believes; Let us pray...