Trip and another story

Shall I write it in bullet points? I think I should. It's easier to read. Plus, it's my blog anyway!

1. I drove to KLIA to fetch Dad from the UK on 12th, forgoing my first day trip with my friends to Port Dickson. He's coming back here for good. That's what he says. I hope he keeps his words, really. I'm sick of "Now you see me, now you don't" game. Anyway, that is none of my business already. I've decided to leave things as they are. Things will heal by itself.

2. Dad sent me to PD the next day and I had an awesome trip with my classmates. We ate a lot. Laughed a lot. Talked a lot and also shared a lot as well. It was really nice. How great it would be if everything doesn't change? I know I am being VERY unrealistic here. I need to gear up my imagination sometimes, you see!

3. Dad fetched me back home on 15th and along the way, we talked a lot too. Philosophies, I shall say. We talked about how mean the colleagues would ever be when someone is in a bad situation, how "fake" they all are when someone is in a bad situation. Such are human behaviors. That's what we all truly are deep within. As the Bible says, we're all born to sin!

4. On the way back home, I asked Dad if we could visit Grandpa. He's dead, people. I am not hallucinating. Visiting his grave, I shall add. During the visit, I could notice I still felt like crying, after seven long years of that painful loss. I just noticed then, albeit such busy and hectic life I am living, I still love him deep down. In fact, I have to control my eye-dams in order not to break down every single time I visit him every year with my family during Cheng Beng. Here, I was thinking about Morrie (from the book Tuesdays with Morrie) and about whatever he said to Mitch.

I suppose, that's the end of my story? It really sucks that you don't have idea to write at all. I wanted to write so badly this afternoon when I first got back home but after seeing my classmates posts in my Facebook Classroom Group, about our time table, (and of course how terrible it is this time!) I freaking have classes until Saturday. I have to travel back home on Fridays after my class, for my Music Theory in my hometown, and early next morning, I have rush to college again by train or bus, whatever for the Saturday class at 10.30am. I utterly lost my mood in writing. All philosophies were gone. Ideas evaporated. It would be fake if I still had mood to write then! I hate it when it happens! So, this post is rather a make good, for my "loyal" readers to read about my current life.

Kyrie eleison; Supplicanti parce, Deus.

Lessons of Life

From: The Chronicles of Broken Heart. Another article that I've written for my Staff Sunday Submission, I find worthwhile sharing it out. Enjoy.

Kyrie eleison; Supplicanti parce, Deus.

 xxxxx

Over the past one week, I was really bored doing my same old routine. Then, I've decided to read the books my Mom lent me 2 weeks ago. These are the lessons I've learnt and I find it worthwhile sharing.

First: Tuesdays with Morrie.
I've learnt that if a culture doesn't suit us, don't buy it.
I've learnt that love continues to go on, even when someone or something we love so much, goes away.
I've learnt that to forgive people, we have to forgive ourselves first. Keeping grudges doesn't do the trick. Let go.

Second: The Five People You Meet in Heaven
First lesson: A story doesn't stand by itself. Who we are today, is all because of the people around us. THEY mold us to be who everyone sees us as today.
Second lesson: Sometimes, we just have to make sacrifices, and not regretting it. Sacrifices are made, to make both parties better.
Third lesson: Anger is a poison and hatred is a curved blade. The more we hate someone, the more harm we do to ourselves. Once again, forgive.
Fourth lesson: Lost love is a love too. It only takes a different form. Says who we cannot love people who have died? As a matter of fact, the love for the dead, is much stronger than the love for the living because the deceased lives forever in our memories.
Fifth lesson: Everyone in the world is bound to protect. Protect someone, or something. It is only a natural habit for us to protect. It might either come in a form of responsibility (as what parents do) or a reflexive manner (as what we might do to strangers).

Third: For One More Day
I've learnt that regretting what we've done (or not doing it) in the past, for good or bad, isn't going to do us good at all. We cannot blame the people around us for things that don't go well as planned. After all, humans plan, God decides. Take things as it is and don't fret over it. When things don't work out well, stop and think. Don't make harsh decisions. Everything happens for a reason.

And readers,
You won't be expecting me to write that short, do you? Let me tell you the one thing I am shocked of my own action, but before that a little history from me, few years ago...

When I was still in my secondary school, my father remarried a lady that I really hated. That we (Granny and I) really hated. She was the poison in the family and she literally ruined my life! Yes, I know the meaning of "literally" and I am using it right. She ruined my life by taking Dad away (like what I've written in Metamorphosis), made him leave. Made him forgo his four-figure salary here and to work in the UK as a security officer. Made him sell his car. Made me felt "not right". Could you still love someone who did this to you? I was aware that the bible did say we shall love our enemies and bless those who curse us. I was aware. I know but I didn't apply that in my life, until I've read all these books mentioned above. I also like to quote Vidura, "What forgiveness cannot achieve?" Makes sense?

And I did. I sent an email to Dad upon finishing my second book. "Dad, please tell Aunt Pat that I've forgiven her. Love, Son," I didn't have her contacts. I wouldn't wish to have it either.
His reply was, "She has never kept it in her heart."
And I wrote, "Yeah. I know she might not. But I am very sure she knows that I have held grudges on her. Please tell her that I've forgiven her dad. Love, Son."

Although I have yet to see my stepmother, I've felt that I'm ready to go forward. Also, I did mention to everyone who was close to me. If I am ready to forgive her (my stepmother), I am ready to forgive everyone else in the world. Let's just end this post with, "To whom it may concern, I've decided to let go my grudges on you. And I hope you may forgive me for my wrongdoings too. May God bless you perpetually."

Yours truly,
Alex.

The Guilt

Perhaps it's my inner voice asking me to improve my communication skills and to be a better human myself, but I muted it. What the fuck was that for?!

2 days ago, in a saloon.
I was the 3rd customer. The hairdressers know me for about a year already. I go there often. I like it there, good cut and it's cheap, RM6. Although Mom's hairdresser charged me cheaper (RM5) but that is too far for me. She stays in KL and I, Seremban. I often get my hair cut here before going back to hostel.

There were 2 ladies sitting down. One's hair was being treated with some kind of black dye which I suppose would promote hair growth and darken hair. She was very old. There was another lady, younger by half the first lady's age, I bet was getting her hair trimmed. I sat beside this younger lady, waiting quietly for my turn and I heard her saying that she was worried for a reason which I couldn't quite understand. She got her hair cut and head washed and dried and sat on the bench. Worried. Then my hairdresser attended to me.

Meanwhile, these 2 ladies (i.e: the younger lady and my hairdresser) were talking about how the younger lady should style her hair for a coming dinner soon, and as my hairdresser remarked her with funny sarcasms, I couldn't stop myself from laughing. She acknowledged me from thence. In the midst my haircut, the lady asked my hairdresser, "What should I do if it has blood?" or, was that even what I've heard from her? I was not sure and I dared not ask. I was afraid. Of what, I am not sure. Then my hairdresser replied, "Just take it as it is. We ain't anyone to control fate. We also ain't someone who can reverse anything back to its original state." (I wanted to answer that way too, and by my working experience, insert my personal experience to her too.) As I looked at her at times, she was looking very worried. Her eyes, her face, her body language. She was mentally unguarded. She was mentally naked for a huge attack! I understood so very much how it feels. I left, without making any changes after I paid my hairdresser.

Now, it bothers me. Why didn't I reach out? Perhaps, it was because of such curiosity which made my mother's siblings thought that I was a busy body. This was the price I paid when I ask too many things. It hurts. Deep down. An act of kindness curiosity, which was intended to bond with my family members was mistaken for an act of nosiness. >>Mom, you were there when this happened. You knew how I felt, for sure.

Yesterday, in Pasar Malam. 6.50pm.
This hell bothered me even more. I was walking in the street, so hurriedly to buy granny and my dinner, because my Music class was at 7.30pm. I hate to rush, especially anything within a half hour range activity! I was walking hurriedly and I heard a small boy. Lost. "Mommy? Mommy? Mommy?" he voice crescendoed after each word. I walked past him, pretended that I did not hear anything. What the fuck was I doing? I should have helped him find his mom. In my head right now, I am pretty worried for that kid, although again I know it was a lost cause for worrying now. I hope God helped him out, and of course the lady in the saloon too. I can't help but to regret, although I know regret is not going to do any good. I still did, somehow.

This is the second time, consecutively, I did not choose to hear my inner voice.

Kyrie eleison; Supplicanti parce, Deus.

Disclaimer: Pardon me, readers, I was unable to content that foul word to myself as I was rather angry with myself.

Pop!

Small updates, people. Let me tell you about my orchestra. It is postponed to 23/10. This means we have more time to practice!


Okay, here's the second one and this is the main intention of writing today. After I've read books about Mitch Albom, I've learnt so much from everything and the best lesson for me was in The Five People You Meet in Heaven. Ruby told Eddie, "Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from the inside. We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But hatred is a curved blade. And the harm me do, we do to ourselves. Forgive..." And I felt that God was talking to me from this line, in the form of a book happened to be "The Five People..." which I borrowed from Mom last week.

God is good. He plans everything and we are simply following up. It just takes time until you hear Him speaking to you. This is one of the lines I felt that He was talking to me and I am convinced right now, being a deist, doesn't quite differ from being a Buddhist, Taoist, Christian, Muslim or whatsoever. It brought me closer to God and I am rather willing enough to drop everything I have, to go with Him. I believe He has great journey for me in the future! To whom it may concern: You don't have to worry about me. This is not Satan. I know, just like how you know God spoke to you. And so, I did this:
 

Kyrie eleison; Supplicanti parce, Deus.

I never knew I could narrate this much. A story of me metamorphosing into a better person for the world.

I wrote this to The Chronicles of a Broken Heart and thought it is a very good thing to share to you readers here too. Enjoy.

Kyrie eleison; Supplicanti parce, Deus.

METAMORPHOSIS
I chose metamorphosis instead of "making changes" because changes could be very small and no body notices them much, but metamorphosis is something big. You see how a cocoon transforms into a beautiful butterfly? That's how metamorphosis works.

My metamorphosis took place this year. Let's see a few (minor) befores and afters my college endurance.

BEFORE:
1. I was very anxious about a lot of things.
2. I get impatient very quickly.
3. I get angry at a blink of an eye.
4. I smile less
5. I join lesser crowds

AFTER:1. I am still anxious, but now I know it will not help anything by only being anxious. I learn to work things out.
2. I only get impatient with rational things. I don't get impatient that easily anymore.
3. I understand that everything happens for a reason. I rarely get angry unless people poke me too much.
4. I smile a lot more and don't quite care to look around people who hate me or dislikes me. I live in my own happy circle with good friends.
5. I still join lesser crowds, but I am grateful to have my own crowd. I love them for who they are and it was mainly because of them, I've changed into a better person (spiritually).

Here comes my major story:
Things were all fine when I was born, (with my parents, grandparents and cousin sister) until I was 3 years old. My mother was still carrying my sister and my parents finally divorced with the reasons I need not tell. You tell me, what are the most common reasons people divorce?

I was sad for a moment but due to my young age, I forgot those melancholy very quickly. When I was 6, I was brought to court as my mother demanded my custody. She was the plaintiff and me, defendant. Or I should say I am the key witness to the case. My father was a defendant. These were the conversation between me and the judge which until now, I still remember clearly.
"So, you chose to stay with your father. Why?""Because... I like my house. I like to stay with my grandparents. I have an air-conditioner in my room."
"Well, what if your mom's house having an air-conditioner in your room for you? Will you stay with her?"
"No," with a sheepish smile which made the judge and secretary smiled too.
"Well, what if you get to see your grandparents every now and then, when you stay with your mother? Will you be okay to stay with her?"
"No," again with the smile. This time, I took a little longer time to answer him.
"Why?" he prompted.
"Because...... I like staying with my grandparents. I like my house. I like my air-conditioner in my room," this they laughed again because I repeated what I have said earlier. The effect was, my house members went down from six to five.

This was my choice, which made who I am today, and my father won the case. Pardon my stupidity, readers. I was small and I didn't know the meaning of death until when I was 10 years old. My grandfather passed away, which reason that I could vaguely remember. That hit me pretty badly that time; and so my house members went down from five to four.

When I was 11, if I could remember correctly. My father had a big quarrel with my cousin sister one night and chased her out of the house. It was a trauma for me. It simply reminded me of how badly did he manage to control his temper and often fought with Granny every now and then when I was small. Four to three.

When I was 13, also if I could remember clearly. I suck at remembering "how old are you when this happened?". My father remarried to a woman whom I (not forgetting Granny) hated her a month after knowing her. She was by all means a bad influence to my dad. She had brainwashed dad until he forsake us both (me and Granny) in a way that he spent lesser time with us. She had brainwashed dad until he forwent his well-paid job here and decided to start fresh in LONDON with her. I'd begged for him not to go. Twice. But he insisted. I remembered this very clearly - he went to England when I was 15 and I was in a camp the day he flew off.

As soon as I stepped into my house, I collapsed onto the ground and cried, lamenting to Granny, "Why must he leave? Am I doing anything wrong? It was Mom, then Grandpa, (then Shirley, my cousin; I didn't say this when I cried, but I meant it) and now papa! Granny, tell me. What did I do wrong and why everyone is leaving me?!" She couldn't help but cry too. I doubt she was sad her son left her, she was sad for me. As soon as I was pacified, I slept for 14 hours due to the fatigue in camp and trauma at home.

I've hated my father since then and Granny couldn't understand. Although I was good with him, I was just BEING NICE, because it is bad to be rude to one's father. I believe he knows this too. Until one night in recent August, when I was in hostel (present. Now I am 18), with my friend in my room. Granny called me and told that "Dad is coming home. You told me to inform you so you could come home a little later, right? You shouldn't do like this! He is your father, for whatever he did to you! What would he feel when he knows you're doing this to him? Just think for yourself," and she hung down the phone. I was rather angry that moment for being bombarded in such a manner. I called Shirley (knowing that calling Mom would be a sore in the ears for some reasons, she is not there to understand my predicaments) and cried to her, with my friend there, and I felt that God spoke through her for this sentence, "Whatever it is, Granny is right. He is still your father. What you do now is to let go. Forgive him. Untie the knot. No matter how hard it is, you have to try, because if you don't, you will suffer. Not anyone else." She spoke with such authority which I had nothing else to say to her besides, "Okay. Thanks. I shall rest now. Good night. I love you."

I prayed a short prayer that moment and the next morning, when I woke up, "Our hallowed Father in Heaven, be praised on Your name. Father, I just pray to you that my knot will be untied. And also, I pray to You that You will help me to lift this revenge off my heart, Father Lord. Please, Lord. I beg for Your deliverance from such revenge in my heart because I believe, Lord. Without you, I will not be able to make it out. You are my sole strength when everything else fails, Lord. Please, supply me again with your strength to lift this revenge off my heart. Supplicanti parce, Deus!"

I forgot about Dad's wrongdoings as I've never thought about it anymore. I didn't quite know that my prayer was heard until yesterday, 3rd September 2011. Dad called and told me he is coming back to Malaysia as soon as he gets his paycheck there and intends not to go back to London. That moment, was the first time ever feeling that the grudge in me being lifted up. Normally, I would feel very sad and depressed (being confirmed by my close friend when I talked to him about it last night, when I said "I would normally feel very sad, you know it, right?" He replied, "VERY!") when I know he is coming back but yesterday. I didn't. I felt that it's part and parcel of my life. I have learnt to let go already. I've decided to let whatever comes and goes, as it is. After all, I could not control EVERYTHING in the world. This, I have finally understood. I hope this long article inspires the readers around the world to learn to forgive and forget. Of course, remember that GOD is always there, listening to you. You only have to believe in your prayers. That's all.

"What forgiveness cannot achieve?" - Vidura.

Yours truly,
Alex.

It was a rather miraculuous night!

So I've decided to blog it out instead of writing this on Facebook or Tumblr, although it is quite short...
Yesterday was my very first time, listening to Bach's cello suite No.2 (on Youtube) and when I was paying full attention to the playing while reading the score, I noticed something rather peculiar going on in my head - an imaginary orchestral accompaniment.

I think when I meet my theory teacher, I should ask her, whether or not she has experienced this feeling ever in her life, because I've noticed her piano skills were very expressive as well. Perhaps, she hears some imaginary accompaniment too? Meh, am I sane?

After those videos, I've decided to watch how the cellist play Canon in D and hey, 5th position, people. So, I insanely talked to 2 of my bows and I've decided to use the one bow which was not used often. It communicated with me a lot better than the one that I was using earlier. Thanks to my hostel friend's advise of "you must know your instrument" when he was playing with my cello for a little while, he asked me, "what's it's name?"

I said, "Cello."

"I see... Hi cello. I am Sky." And from thence, I do occasionally talk to my cello and bow. OK, I really sound like a psychopath now. I should stop right here. I am going to freak my readers out!

Kyrie eleison; Supplicanti parce, Deus.

PS: I hope I can play my cello fairly well by 23rd September!