Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Spare the Rod and Spoil the Child

My mum called me a while ago and started telling me stories of her friend's daughter. She is 16 this year and I remember playing with her when I was younger. I remember her to be a very sweet and petite girl who loves to play with boys' toys. She never liked Barbie Dolls or Polly Pockets. We played together till my family moved to another housing estate when I was 12. She was sent to a Chinese medium school for the first 2 years of her primary education. Her parents don't speak the language at home but insists that she attended such a school to give her the additional advantage in the language. However, she couldn't cope with her studies especially the Mandarin subject. She hated school, feigned all sorts of illnesses and excuses so that she didn't have to turn up in the school that she detested.

Her mother confided in my mum and she suggested that they send her to a private school instead where the medium although in Malay is very much English based. So, they did. No improvements in her academics happend. Instead, she became even wilder. At the age of 10 she had her first boyfriend, holding hands with him while walking around shopping malls in JB. Her mother again asked my mum for advice. This time, my mum kept quiet. She refused to give any comments just in case she is blamed for giving bad ones.

The girl gave her mother major headaches. She played truant and was one of those 'La-La' who hanged out in shopping malls during school hours. She changed many schools because her mum wanted her to stop seeing the boy from her previous private school. Finally, the mum had no choice but to send her to a boarding school in Perth. Fortunately, the boy didn't follow her and by a twist of luck (if you want to call it that), she finally began to realise her full potential. She liked drawing and art. And now, at the age of 16, she chose Art & Design courses instead of conventional Math and Science subjects. Good for her and her parents. All's well, end's well.

As my mum ratted along about this girl, I stopped her mid-way and said...

"Mum...aren't you lucky that you have a daughter like me? I may not have been perfect, but I don't remember myself being so problematic."

"Yes lah...lucky lah."

"But know ah...if you didn't cane me so hard and so much when I was young, I probably would have turn out the way she did."

When I was younger, I hated school. I never liked to study. All I liked to do was to read my Enid Blyton's and watch my Sesame Street. My mum was so worried about me that she caned me everytime I lazed around and not do my homework. She checked my school bag everyday and made sure I finish each and everything the teachers assigned me to do. I was sent for tuition classes to occupy my free time and there was a mountain of workbooks to be completed after I came back.

She never let me go out with my friends till I was in Form 2 or 3 ( I can't really remember). And because I know that if I ask her to let me go gallavanting, she will not agree, I'd rather not ask. That was how I was shaped to become who I am today. I'm not that kind of girl who likes to hang out with a group of friends in the shopping mall or just have a cup of coffee at Starbucks. I I'm not that kinda girl who is easily influenced by the myriad of tempations outside my home because everytime I think of them, I think of my mother wielding the cane.

Everytime I think of doing something bad or out of my daily routine, I think...

"Would mummy kill me? Better not take the chance. Better just stay at home and be good.."

So, moral of this long long post is...

"Spare the Rod and Spoil the Child"

I grew up with the cane and I believe in its magical powers. Some of you may disagree but the cane certainly has its advantages. Each stroke sends an ultra big reminder to me not to do anything my mother will disapprove.


Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Kidnapped but Saved by Love

An unidentified man locked me in a cold and dark room. Both of us were in the same room together. He may be unidentified, but I had a gut feeling that I knew him. I asked for my beloved. He answered with a coarse voice saying that he is outside and if I want to speak to him, I must shout for him.

I did. I shouted. But my voice was as soft as a mouse's voice. He couldn't hear me. I could feel him outside, pacing up and down, waiting eagerly for me.

I shouted again with all my might and this time he heard me.

I felt a gentle nudge and a I heard a whisper in my ear...

"Baby, are you alright? I'm here. Don't be afraid. I'm here. See...I'm right next to you."

He hugged me tightly and held my hand.

I opened my eyes and looked at his face to ensure that it is him and not the vilian in my dream.

"Baby, why did you go away? I called for you but you didn't hear me."

"I was here all the while. You shouted for me in your dreams. You gave me a fright! Shhh..go back to sleep. I was holding you the hold night. And I will hold you till you wake up tomorrow morning. Shhh....go to sleep."

I've never slept in someone's arms the whole night through. I've never held hands to sleep.

I feel so loved.

One night later...

"Baby, tonight I won't let you go again. Just sleep...I will be here and I'm not going anywhere. I will never go anywhere..."


Monday, April 25, 2005

Cherrychocolatecandy is Back :)

The Cherry is back.

Why the absence?

I can't give reasons. But all I can say is I am back and I am hopefully back for good.

What have I been up to?

Pondering and thinking about what a blog actually means to me.

Why "The Angelic Grace" ?

Its a name of a ship which was involved in some contractual dispute on the high seas of Spain or something like that.

No, I'm not implying that I'm angelic or that I am full of grace.

I have my flaws.

I am not a clear cut diamond.

I am human.

Apologies for my short "demise".

Was my absence a gimmick to attract attention?

No, trust me it wasn't. I really did contemplate to stop blogging for good.

But because of my writing addiction, I have decided to continue. This time, I won't be so revealing about my life.

My life shall not be an open book anymore.

Nonetheless, it does not mean that this blog is less colourful than the previous one.

Do continue to support the Cherry like you used to :)


Sunday, April 24, 2005

Hearts Are Shaped As They Are Because...

Now I know why a heart is drawn the way it is.

Last night, I gave him a big surprise. I walked down to his place and rang his door bell. He pressed the intercom and shouted his usual "Hallo?". I gave my normal..."Its me. Open up."

He let me in through the main door and opened the door to his apartment. There stood my love. Looking tired in his long sleeved office shirt tucked out of his black slacks. When he set his eyes on me, they lit up. Mine too. I was weary after a long day pouring over examination materials. He stretched open his arms, motioning me to lay my head on his chest. I did. We hugged each other tightly. No words were needed to express how much we missed each other 2 days.

While holding me like there's no tomorrow, we walked into the living room together. The lighting was perfect for shadows to develope on the off-white walls. I picked up a cup left on the dining table and took it to the kitchen sink to be washed up. After I was done with that simple household chore which I always willingly do for him, he hugged me from behind.

He covered my back with his big but gentle arms. His right cheek on my left. We kissed. I looked at the wall in front of us. A beautiful sight greeted my eyes. I felt a surge of warmth overcome me. It was a figure of a heart.

Now I know why hearts are shaped as they are. It is because when 2 people become one, it produces that exact same image that children draw when told to express their love for someone on paper.

I felt so blessed to see that image on the wall. It was like a sign bestowed upon us by God Himself; signifying His approval of our love.

"Baby...look at the wall! Its a perfect shape of a heart!"

"Yes, I saw it baby...I love you. And I want to love you forever."

"I love you and I want to love you forever too..."


Saturday, April 23, 2005

Are Bloggers Lonely People?

Its hard to stop doing something that I am so passionate about. I love to write. Writing brings out the best and the worst in me. It is apart of me that I cannot let go. Whether I write about my personal and private thoughts or whether I criticise systems and everything elseunder the sun, I still like to write.

What is a blog? Maybe a psychologist needs to analyse us bloggers. Why do we want to blog? Is it because of my so-called reason...because I love to write? Or is it because we just want the attention that comes with the blogging package.

Why do we crack our heads for catchy titles? Why do we want to let the whole world know about our lives like an open book; an open book with limitless readers?

No, we are not psychos who need to be on psychiatric treatment in award where short-circuit people are placed.

I think what we need is just a space on the World Wide Web. I think we are lonely people. I think we are empty inside and badly want a voice in this big, bad and ugly world. Our voices are tiny. We want to be loud but we lack the guts to. We hide behind colourful web pages and creative pseudonyms, thinking that we can write whatever we want,whenever we feel like it.

But we seldom forget, there is a price to pay for everything we do.Words once let out cannot be recanted. Thoughts once spilt cannot be replaced in the jug.

We have to exercise some caution. We have to be discreet.

Most importantly, we have to know what exactly do we want from the blogging community and this nicely decorated space on the World Wide Web.

Just pause for a moment. Take a few minutes out of the tens of thousands of minutes you have left in this world.

Ponder. Think. Reflect. Contemplate