Purpose-Less

     So, there I was. Doing the same ol' shit I used to, one time ago. Literally cleaning up poop and changing the newspapers where the dogs sleep on their rusted and almost broken cages, is the basic cleaning done twice a day. Well despite the lavatory smell the morass place lets out, at least SPCA (Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) provides the shelter and food needed for the unwanted and left-idle dogs and cats. As you may have already concluded by now, yes, I have volunteered to provide my service to help this under-paid organisation to continue to support these stray animals.
    
     Recently, it came to my attention about the intership available where, you would be tied to this "work" for as long as you would want to and because you are not paid, you can choose what time to show up and what time to leave. Since I have wasted the whole month of June, practically laying eggs at home and growing more layers of fat, turning myself into this gulab jamun (for those who are in the dark, gulab jamun is a type of Indian sweet which looks like "waffle balls" in a sugar syrup flavoured with cardamon seeds and rosewater or saffron), I decided to put my public service in practice!

      Well anyway, back to the days routine at the shelter. Altogether, 5 of us cleaning up the place where 4 are permanent workers. Having completed basic cleaning, the meat will be separated from the bones of priorly boiled chickens. The bones will then be mixed in one pan where there is a mixture of cooked rice and pellets while the meat will be mixed in another pan where there is only cooked rice. The latter pan is for the puppies while the former is given to dogs as they will be able to break down the bones without chocking themselves. Having placed in their respective bowls and served to them hot-from-the-oven, it is our time for lunch!
    
     The workers were pretty friendly to talk to and they invited me to join them for lunch at this nearby mamak restaurant. Though having brought my lunch box, I thought 'Oh, what the heck? Its time for knowing me, knowing you...aha...' I tagged along and had my lunch there itself. About an hour or so later, the story really begins when we got back.

     After lunch, I proceeded to the same cage I was at, earlier. As by now, the dogs would have messed up the place and their bowls would have been chewed into pieces. It was pretty obvious that one of the dogs was having her monthly cycle because the floor had patches of blood scattered around. Taking it as something normal and deemed to occur, casually I got on with the routine. But, Appu (one of the 4 workers I went out for lunch with) started grumbling about the place being smelly and dirty. So, he went up to one of the dogs and what seemed to be checking the dog's gums, turned out to be that he was literally hurting the dog by pinching and squeezing its lips.The dog was already squeaking in pain while Appu (hate repeating his ominous name) continued to curse at her and just when I thought the torture drill was over, he started punching the helpless dog! I ran up to him and told him that it was hopeless what he is doing and tried to assure him that I can help him clean up the place. And just when I thought the worst was over, he sighed and adjourned to another cage and to my horror he starts playing with another petrified dog's penis! Yes! The dog's fucking penis! Hhmm...that does not sound right together.

     But, seriously what is the purpose of having a centre to care for hungry and homeless animals when they are subject to worse abuse? According to the vet, Dr Lim, it seems that dude has to be given a 'pep-talk' every now and then to keep his behaviour on the right track. Oh urm, pardon me, a pep-talk? Then why in the Devil's name have you taken in him for this job at the first place?!

     Colin Clarke once said that, “We've got to make sensible choices about what's best for the team, and we've got to be sure we're 100 percent right at the important times.” In this case, the main players in the team are the dogs. The coach is Dr Lim while the supporting players are the workers working first hand with the dogs, which brings in Appu. If he cannot perform his best and what is expected of him in this crucial game of upkeeping this centre of relief for lost animals, it will eventually bring only devastation to the team. Even if the coaching is at its level best, if the players do not support each other in the field, the game is lost.

List of Things I Love and Hate about being a Teenager

Or is it list of things I loved and hated about being a teenager? Well anyway, here it goes :

LOVED

1. Need not think of the future.
2. The only worries were to get to school in time.
3. Parents were the escape route when caught in trouble.
4. Practically everything was prepared. From everyday meals to transport for extra classes and pre-planned  holidays during school breaks.
5. Monthly allowances.
6. Friends were available 24-7.
7. Lousy teacher to be made fun of.
8. Mistakes were forgivable.
9. Least thinking needed.
10. Knew lesser of the happenings around the world.

HATED

1. CURFEWS!!!!
2. Calls from home every 5 minutes checking on my whereabouts.
3. Politics in school on who is the most popular kid.
4. The need to keep my shoelace tied all the time and uniforms ironed.
5. Parents bugging to study hard and get the grades higher.
6. The time limit of going online as there was no wifi then.
7. Emergency calls made using the phone booth. ( I didn't have a handphone then )
8. Lack of freedom.
9. Ideas not taken seriously by older people especially parents. "Words of a young person is immature talk" according to them.
10. Indian parents think that they are Gods. Whatever they said was right, even if it was wrong. Whatever we, teenagers, said was never right, even if it really was.

http://www.friendsofbooks.com/

45

Send away for a priceless gift

One not subtle, one not on the list

Send away for a perfect world

One not simply, so absurd

In these times of doing what you're told

Keep these feelings, no one knows

Whatever happened to the young man's heart

Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart

And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,

I'm swimming through the ashes of another life

There's no real reason to accept the way things have changed

Staring down the barrel of a 45

Send a message to the unborn child

Keep your eyes open for a while

In a box high up on the shelf, left for you, no one else

There's a piece of a puzzle known as life

Wrapped in guilt, sealed up tight

 Whatever happened to the young man's heart

Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart

And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,

I'm swimming through the ashes of another life

There's no real reason to accept the way things have changed

Staring down the barrel of a 45

Everyone's pointing their fingers

Always condemning me

And nobody knows what I believe

I believe

 

And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,

I'm swimming through the ashes of another life

There's no real reason to accept the way things have changed

Staring down the barrel of a 45

by Shinedown

Jeng Jeng Jeng

Clock struck 3. Seemed sinfully dark outside. The losers went on looking for their next victim, like vultures in search for carcass. In this case, I was the vulture. Lost in the rush of adrenaline, we engaged throughout the night, till at one point my body couldn't take it any longer and my brains said, Enough is enough. "Hey, dude look. That was sweet. But I gotta run. Catch ya sometime later". And I switched the streamyx modem off and clicked "shut down" on my laptop, without the need to know his response. Clock showed 4.15. Switching the lights off, I climbed into my bed, tucked beneath my sheets, and hung on to my bolster.

Darkness grew over me. Shimmering lights seem to appear from the corner of that very cavern. Echos can be heard wavering. Cold wind stroked my hair back and forth, rustling it through the idleness of the night. The only truthful sound that could be heard was the sound of my endless breathing. The echos seem to grow louder, but now it doesn't seem much of an echo. More of a whisper. It sounds so familiar, so close, so sad, yet terrifyingly worried. Eventually, sounding more of a cry....a voice! Yes! It is a voice of someone I know! She is crying, or isn't she?

The sobbing was directly coming from the entrance of the room. A figure, so familiar, at a sight I could recognise who it was. The lights were turned on. Angel was standing at the doorway, clinging on to the part of the wall where it was made from wood-weeping! My heart almost stopped. I got of the bed, and dashed out to grab hold of her. "There...there. It's alright. I'm here", I assured her. I looked at the clock, sadly hammered to the wall, it showed 5 minutes to 6. Jesus Christ! I slept for lesser than 2 hours? Snapping back to reality, I adhered her cautiously back to her bed and the first thing that came to my mind after doing so was,
"Now, where the heck did that holy oil go to?"

I diverted back to the alter, borrowed the holy oil from the man with the long curly hair and face covered with beard, who was in the framed photograph next to another which had a lovely looking lady in it with her head covered with a scarf. Dipping my hand in, I placed some on her forehead and her neck, with the sign of the cross. She was still weeping when I placed it on her head, only that now it is a little slow and less vigorous.

"I heard it again.....everytime I keep the door open, it comes back, haunting me. I couldn't control myself. It was pushing me...." she said between sobs. I cut her short, reassuring that everything is fine now. Closing the balcony door behind me, I returned to her and directed her back to my room. After a few minutes of persuasion, she agreed to get some minutes of rest on my bed. Leaving the room lighted up, with a big sigh I headed downstairs and performed the usual routine of lighting up the hall, continued with the dining room and lastly the kitchen, allowing Elmo out for his daily dosage of the "wee morning cool breeze".

"What are you doing?", she questioned from the pavement of the 20 year old wooden stairs. "Nah, nothing. Just the usual stuff", trying my very best to sound like it was another ordinary morning with nothing unusual taking place prior. Putting the whole incident at the back of my head, I got back to my daily activities trying to live life normal. It was just before I wanted to head to the kitchen for a bite, she called me up to the balcony.

"Here, listen. Can you hear that? That jingling sound. It's coming from the tree, the neighbours'. That was the exact noise I hear every single time before the attack takes place. It will push me towards the bed so hard and with much intensity, I instantaneously forget my prayers. Can you believe it even makes me forget the Our Father?"

So since you forget it, why don't you just renounce from Christianity? Our Father is like THE prayer every Christian should keep in heart till the very last of their breath. Snapping back to reality, "That is the sound of the insect, for pete's sake!", I exclaimed

"No...no...listen again..."

(to be continued)

A Time for A Change

I was watching this series called Army Wives over lunch, which was about 2 hours ago. It revolves around this bunch of women and a man whose other half is involved in the army. Some would be mere soldiers that fight in wartime, while some would be lieutenants and so on.

The usual run of the 1 hour episode will have a moral ending in the end. This time, it was about this lady, one of the army wives, who convinced her long lost friend to give a short speech. The speech was supposed to be inspirational to this group of young people who lost their legs to their own carelessness. Lets call her friend, Mac. Mac too lost his legs due to his reckless driving on the road, few months back.

In the hall where he was supposed to deliver his side of the story, here is the crux of it :

"I don't know how to start this. A friend of mine told me that it would be good to start of with a joke"

(crowd giggling)

"But, we know that the joke is on us, uh? It was a Friday afternoon on May the 2nd when I was on my way out and I came back without them. You know, you just live in a different manner after that incident. Frustration sets in. Anger takes control. Every single day you regret. We beat ourselves because we can't seem to forgive ourselves. But, if it weren't for May the 2nd, I wouldn't be here right now talking to you. If I hadn't gone through that accident, I wouldn't have seen this side of me. See, sometimes we just have to let it go. Let go the frustration. Let go the anger. Let go the grudge we have implanted inside us. Because, if we don't, it is just going to be a hurdle for us to reach our highest potential. If we let this growing hatred inside us go, we let ourselves free from the extra weight. That extra burden. That leash tied around our neck to stop us from reaching our goals. We let go of the very thing that had been holding us behind to reach what we are supposed to reach - our maximum potential. We turn into this person we never knew existed inside us. So, just let go. What has happened to us is for a reason. To make us lead a new life differently from others. This is a gift given to us. Months to come is not going to be easy. I would not lie that it will be easy. It will not be. But, the challenges ahead make us reach a higher being that we are right now. Thank you for coming guys."

It struck me at that very moment. The grudge that I hold inside me. The anger that grows on my skin which pops out every single time pressure is applied. And, of course, the regrets that I hold from my past actions. And then, I stopped to ponder, what if I were just to forget and actually let go all this hatred and negative aura around me? I would definitely feel less burdened and this fringe that keeps forming between my eyebrows would be cleared.

So, I sat there. The exact same spot where I was having my over cooked rice, which looked half porridge, with fish sambal and coleslaw. My fingers were still stained with the dried sambal. Yet, I sat there thinking of all the people I had grudges on and the reasons why I had them at the first place. I ended up questioning myself, do these reasons still matter?

In a flash of thought, I felt that it was worthwhile to let go all the anger towards those people I had in mind and the receiver deserves it. But then again, when I started thinking, and asked myself whether was it REALLY worth the time spent? Not one incident could I find that was worth showing my anger to. The consequence was whether the receiver was not bothered to hear what I had to say or it had created a huge scar in a relationship so sacred, you wished you could pull back all words uttered.

Sometimes, we say things we are not supposed to. Maybe not in that nick of time. But, being mere humans at the end of the day, we definitely cannot attain ideality. Even dreams do not show us being perfect, let alone reality. Human frailty is deemed to set in and take place, most of the times. Especially, during unwanted hours. And if we are going to sit back and fret over it, beating ourselves on why such a incident occured, it would not serve any purpose.

Mistakes happen. That is inevitable. Move on. Work towards a channel where consciousness is primary and not selfishness. Only then can these mistakes be carved to a smaller figure. A more manageable figure. A figure which will be under control and not which is in control.

“You don't hit, you try to find a mistake. You have to get in there and constantly battle against him.” - Troy Glaus