Have you ever wondered how a moment of laziness could cost you a lifetime of regret? Okay, maybe I was exaggerating it but indeed I felt truly humiliated this afternoon when I boarded the public bus service 66 for home this afternoon.
The previous night, after attending another session of my weekly math tuition, I decided to take bus service 196 back from the centre, which was located along West Coast Road. I was delighted to find that the bus was pleasantly empty and I plopped myself onto the long aisle of seats on the first storey of the double decker bus. I recall that just a few days ago, the school had invited a guest to speak about the recent changes to the public bus services and promptly identified the service I was on as one of the newer bus models. Not that it made much of a difference. I was overcome with fatigue after finally completing my tests for the term and then having to go for tuition. I am not trying to be complacent or anything but tuition directly after the tests was a pushing it a tad bit too far. I just wanted to rest.
I arrived at the old Clementi bus station and took a short walk down the road to the new terminal just a traffic light away. I noticed that my EZ-Link card was already running out of money when I alighted from the bus but I couldn't care less. Why did the LTA just have to implement the new bus fare scheme? It's causing me to finish the topped up value in my card even after than usual and frankly speaking, I think it is burning a huge hole in my pocket.Oh wait, I am digressing again, aren't I? Well, back to the topic. I knew I needed to top up my EZ-link card. Otherwise I would have to pay more in coins when I traveled back from school the next day. The top-up machine was just an escalator ride away from the new Clementi Terminal. I chose not to top it up, reasoning that I would just do it the next day.
Incidentally, on the next day, as I boarded the bus service 66 for home, I was greeted by the unpleasant beeping of the EZ-link machine after I tapped it. I suddenly remembered that my EZ-link card was out of balance and as I fished out my wallet for coins, it came as an awful shock that I had already burned up all of them during recess on that play of chicken chop that I couldn't even finish. I tried to smile at the bus driver, who seemed to look increasingly incensed, and stepped out of the bus immediately, unable to utter a word. I swear I could hear a few guys snickering behind my back and a horde of girls talking amongst themselves. Procrastination, Jiankai? Think again.
Teachers had always preached about handing in work on time and preparing for examinations before the pressure begins. I never seem to get that lesson into my head and constantly choose to do things at the last minute. Perhaps I am too optimistic, hoping for a miracle, or I am just plain foolish. Even my parents have commented on this fact, urging me to try to make a change. For example, clearing the trash before I start giving myself excuses. However, old habits die hard and I don't think I will be getting more initiative any time soon.
In my opinion, procrastination only seeks to create frustration and stress. Yes, I am saying that procrastination has no benefits at all. When we pile up all our work to the last moment, we are indirectly building up pressure on ourselves, which damages the quality of work produced and if accumulated to an unprecedented level, might result in it being detrimental to health. People might argue that procrastination gives one more time to think about their work but it doesn't strike me that people who choose to procrastinate would use the free time they had gained to improve their work quality. Procrastination, to me, is just one of the long list of excuses we come up with to pardon our laziness or incapability.
The results of procrastination might eventually end up well, though. By dragging a deadline, we might produce a piece of work which still surpasses those who have completed it on time. However, I feel that it is will prove less productive as compared to the individual who has pushed himself to meet the deadline because the amount of effort put into the assignment is not congruent.
Therefore, though it might be hypocritical for me to say it, procrastination is indeed the thief of time and should be discouraged no matter what the circumstance. I wonder then, how am I supposed to get rid of this bad habit of mine?
Friday, August 20, 2010
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Change
Its been a while since the June Holidays ended, hasn't it? Time passes by so fast these days. Just two years ago, I was sitting through the agonizing PSLE period. Now, my little sister is the one taking the test. Singapore has gone through many developments over this past two years too. I notice the old Entertainment Centre located in the heart of the Jurong central torn down last year has been making quite a bit of progress since it began its operation works. I find bit a bit sad actually, to find that I no longer recognize some parts of Singapore that I spent in my early childhood. I recall this photo of my dad and I standing in front of a foodcourt that no longer exists. I was really fat then. "Everything decays over time" was a line said by an antagonist in a comic book I recently read. I am amused but somehow, I can't help but find myself agreeing with him.
In the June Holidays this year, my family and I had a long bus ride to Kuala Lampur to visit my dad who was posted there to work for his company. As I recall, that was my second trip to KL and I already prepared myself for a 5-hour bus ride on the understandably but extremely slow moving coach. I have to admit, my previous trip to KL wasn't especially pleasant, thanks to the unruly crowd on the subway which resulted in the discreet pickpocketing of my hand phone. Well, all of us make mistakes, right?
The bus trip was a long one. My mom sat a seat behind me, leaving me extremely vulnerable to her constant reiteration that I had to study Quadratic graphs during the trip. I listened, of course, but unknowingly, my mind was drawn away from the pile of papers on my lap, slowly falling on the scenery outside.
In my opinion, the view was simply breathtaking. A little coach, surrounded by miles and miles of greenery, virtually untouched by human hands. There were hardly any signs of a city around, creating an uniquely serene atmosphere in the region. Occasionally, I would catch glimpses of small towns down the highway we were travelling on, with tiny little figures moving around slowly. The houses looked ancient, like those you would see in those dramatic Chinese action films. My brother drew my attention to a cow he had spotted grazing on the hill. I was amazed. We certainly didn't see that often in Singapore. Roosters as well as dogs were common sights along the highway. Between you and me, I actually saw a tent erected near the border of a forested area and I still suspect that it was occupied by some illegal immigrant. Of course, my brother dismissed my claim, using his logic to determine that someone merely wanted to come out to camp for a night of two.
So unlike Singapore, I thought. In this region, time seemed to come to a standstill, leaving the natural beauties of gaia just as it was a long time ago. Singapore modernizes so fast. Forests are deforested to make way for industries. Old buildings are torn down to pave the way for newer commercial centres. Sometimes, I just feel that in Singapore, time passes too fast for us to readily appreciate what is already around us.
In a changing world, it is important for us to appreciate the beauty of the past. The past might be blissful, grievous or bloody, but as long as we take away something from our experiences, I guess we will be ready to greet change with open arms.
In the June Holidays this year, my family and I had a long bus ride to Kuala Lampur to visit my dad who was posted there to work for his company. As I recall, that was my second trip to KL and I already prepared myself for a 5-hour bus ride on the understandably but extremely slow moving coach. I have to admit, my previous trip to KL wasn't especially pleasant, thanks to the unruly crowd on the subway which resulted in the discreet pickpocketing of my hand phone. Well, all of us make mistakes, right?
The bus trip was a long one. My mom sat a seat behind me, leaving me extremely vulnerable to her constant reiteration that I had to study Quadratic graphs during the trip. I listened, of course, but unknowingly, my mind was drawn away from the pile of papers on my lap, slowly falling on the scenery outside.
In my opinion, the view was simply breathtaking. A little coach, surrounded by miles and miles of greenery, virtually untouched by human hands. There were hardly any signs of a city around, creating an uniquely serene atmosphere in the region. Occasionally, I would catch glimpses of small towns down the highway we were travelling on, with tiny little figures moving around slowly. The houses looked ancient, like those you would see in those dramatic Chinese action films. My brother drew my attention to a cow he had spotted grazing on the hill. I was amazed. We certainly didn't see that often in Singapore. Roosters as well as dogs were common sights along the highway. Between you and me, I actually saw a tent erected near the border of a forested area and I still suspect that it was occupied by some illegal immigrant. Of course, my brother dismissed my claim, using his logic to determine that someone merely wanted to come out to camp for a night of two.
So unlike Singapore, I thought. In this region, time seemed to come to a standstill, leaving the natural beauties of gaia just as it was a long time ago. Singapore modernizes so fast. Forests are deforested to make way for industries. Old buildings are torn down to pave the way for newer commercial centres. Sometimes, I just feel that in Singapore, time passes too fast for us to readily appreciate what is already around us.
In a changing world, it is important for us to appreciate the beauty of the past. The past might be blissful, grievous or bloody, but as long as we take away something from our experiences, I guess we will be ready to greet change with open arms.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Harmony, overcoming even time
As Racial Harmony Day draws near, I thought it would be appropriate to recall a memorable experience of a particular incident on the bus in the June holidays. Honestly speaking, I would not have thought about posting this online(even though I was aware of it) if not for the fact that I was in charge of a Racial Harmony Day stall at school.
The weather was nice, not too hot but not too cold either. I was on bus 333, returning from the new tuition centre I had decided to try out in an attempt to improve my math results. Thinking about that crippling "C" still makes me wince. As I leaned on the window pane, staring at the clouds, I was rudely disturbed by the ear-piercing scream from the front of the bus. I reacted quickly to the abrupt sound, turning to with a raised eyebrow. A Chinese woman sat with her arms akimbo, her eyes narrowed into a sharp glare at a young, pale little boy who sat beside her. Her son? Most probably. In Mandarin, she blabbered away, scolding, "You shouldn't be reading on the bus! Close that comic book!" From afar, I could not really make out his facial expression but I could see that he obediently put away the book, without a word of dissent. Not long after, as we passed by the Jurong East Library bus stop, a family of three boarded the bus. They seemed to be Indian and consisted of a lady, her husband and their daughter, who coincidentally must have been about the same age as the young Chinese boy mentioned earlier. The family settled into the seats directly opposite the young boy and his mother. Whether it was a twist of fate or a chance encounter, I think no one would have expected the events that unfolded thereafter.
All of a sudden, the little Indian girl burst out in tears. Okay, maybe it was because I had dozed off and wasn't really aware of what was happening. The parents of the Indian girl tried to pacify their daughter, hugging her and muttering tiny words of comfort. She continued bawling. Frankly speaking, it was very, very annoying. Can't anyone have some rest on the bus? Just like in all action movies, there would be a righteous male hero who would save the damsel in distress. However, I did not ever think that this hero would turn out to be the Chinese boy. In an astonishing gesture of childlike innocence, he held out the comic book he was reading earlier on, as if offering it to her. She sniffed for quite some time before she took the book with her own little hands, flipping through the book with an awed expression on her face, still flushed from her crying before. As she composed herself slowly,the lady beside her quickly returned the book to the boy, a distinct smile on her face. Amazingly, this small act of kindness just helped solve an otherwise uncontrollable problem. Two children. Two races. One family.
It is very heartening yet mildly surprising to see that racial harmony still exists up till today. I mean, I never lived in the turbulent times when the PAP was first established but from all that I have read up on Singapore's History last year, I can gather that it was not so peaceful then as it is now. There were numerous racial riots erupting between the Malays, Eurasians as well as the Chinese. The lack of understanding between each race's customs and traditions as well as the manipulation of the media indirectly sparked riots such as the Maria Hertogh case, where the Malays and the Europeans fought over the custody of a Dutch girl raised in a Malay family. It is instances like this that truly test Singapore's claim as a multi-racial community where everyone is expected to abide to the principles of Equality. This principles have even been incorporated into our Singapore Pledge, thus holding us responsible for maintaining peace and harmony between the various races. I am sure that over the years, there must have been several instances whereby the different races inhabiting this island has clashed but over time, they have settled their differences. Singapore no longer experiences the traumatic times it used to go through everyday in the past but Singapore is still equally vulnerable to racial clashes. Hence, it is of substantial importance that we, the new generation sired to lead the next, learn to cooperate with one another, overcoming social and racial obstacles, and maintain the harmony that has been passed down from our forefathers.
The weather was nice, not too hot but not too cold either. I was on bus 333, returning from the new tuition centre I had decided to try out in an attempt to improve my math results. Thinking about that crippling "C" still makes me wince. As I leaned on the window pane, staring at the clouds, I was rudely disturbed by the ear-piercing scream from the front of the bus. I reacted quickly to the abrupt sound, turning to with a raised eyebrow. A Chinese woman sat with her arms akimbo, her eyes narrowed into a sharp glare at a young, pale little boy who sat beside her. Her son? Most probably. In Mandarin, she blabbered away, scolding, "You shouldn't be reading on the bus! Close that comic book!" From afar, I could not really make out his facial expression but I could see that he obediently put away the book, without a word of dissent. Not long after, as we passed by the Jurong East Library bus stop, a family of three boarded the bus. They seemed to be Indian and consisted of a lady, her husband and their daughter, who coincidentally must have been about the same age as the young Chinese boy mentioned earlier. The family settled into the seats directly opposite the young boy and his mother. Whether it was a twist of fate or a chance encounter, I think no one would have expected the events that unfolded thereafter.
All of a sudden, the little Indian girl burst out in tears. Okay, maybe it was because I had dozed off and wasn't really aware of what was happening. The parents of the Indian girl tried to pacify their daughter, hugging her and muttering tiny words of comfort. She continued bawling. Frankly speaking, it was very, very annoying. Can't anyone have some rest on the bus? Just like in all action movies, there would be a righteous male hero who would save the damsel in distress. However, I did not ever think that this hero would turn out to be the Chinese boy. In an astonishing gesture of childlike innocence, he held out the comic book he was reading earlier on, as if offering it to her. She sniffed for quite some time before she took the book with her own little hands, flipping through the book with an awed expression on her face, still flushed from her crying before. As she composed herself slowly,the lady beside her quickly returned the book to the boy, a distinct smile on her face. Amazingly, this small act of kindness just helped solve an otherwise uncontrollable problem. Two children. Two races. One family.
It is very heartening yet mildly surprising to see that racial harmony still exists up till today. I mean, I never lived in the turbulent times when the PAP was first established but from all that I have read up on Singapore's History last year, I can gather that it was not so peaceful then as it is now. There were numerous racial riots erupting between the Malays, Eurasians as well as the Chinese. The lack of understanding between each race's customs and traditions as well as the manipulation of the media indirectly sparked riots such as the Maria Hertogh case, where the Malays and the Europeans fought over the custody of a Dutch girl raised in a Malay family. It is instances like this that truly test Singapore's claim as a multi-racial community where everyone is expected to abide to the principles of Equality. This principles have even been incorporated into our Singapore Pledge, thus holding us responsible for maintaining peace and harmony between the various races. I am sure that over the years, there must have been several instances whereby the different races inhabiting this island has clashed but over time, they have settled their differences. Singapore no longer experiences the traumatic times it used to go through everyday in the past but Singapore is still equally vulnerable to racial clashes. Hence, it is of substantial importance that we, the new generation sired to lead the next, learn to cooperate with one another, overcoming social and racial obstacles, and maintain the harmony that has been passed down from our forefathers.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
We Slept With Our Boots On~ An Analysis
Point of View:
The poem is written in the POV of well...Steve Carlson, a soldier fighting in the Afghan war. We can identify elements of life as a soldier in the poem, including "30 seconds they yelled, Lock N Load and grab your shit" and "Get ready to go and make it quick". This creates the genuine feel of receiving orders through commanding officers in the platoon from the higher-ups, which increases his credibility. From his tone, we can assume that he is a veteran, who has gone through war and understands the rush of fear and perhaps the angst of soldiers when he stated that "Everyone loses their innocence when they carry guns' and "Brothers aren’t born they’re earned".
Situation and setting:
The poem is probably set in the Afghan war, due to the presence of the "Hindu Kush". The situation is fast moving at the start of the poem, with apt description of the heat of the battlefield and then slowly resides into that of tension where the persona reflects on everything he had been through and on how he had lived through another day of violence and bloodshed.
Language and Diction:
In my opinion, not many language devices are used. As for diction, the poet uses a lot of terms that I think is used in the army, such as "Paratrooper" instead of the conventional "soldiers", " pulling the trigger and reloading and pulling some more" instead of just "shooting" and "30 seconds they yelled, Lock N Load and grab your shit" which refer to the officers ordering his men to prepare for battle. This helps illustrate the real war time experience which is rushed, filled with anxiety and fast-paced.
Personal Response:
I think the poet is trying to pass on his experiences to the future generations. I do not really think his is taking a stand on whether war is good or evil but he is just trying to express the sentiments of a soldier when he is really in the war time situation. Due to this, I think readers will begin to feel that war is not as glorious the government makes it to be but actually a cold materialization of cruelty, bitterness and faith.
The poem is written in the POV of well...Steve Carlson, a soldier fighting in the Afghan war. We can identify elements of life as a soldier in the poem, including "30 seconds they yelled, Lock N Load and grab your shit" and "Get ready to go and make it quick". This creates the genuine feel of receiving orders through commanding officers in the platoon from the higher-ups, which increases his credibility. From his tone, we can assume that he is a veteran, who has gone through war and understands the rush of fear and perhaps the angst of soldiers when he stated that "Everyone loses their innocence when they carry guns' and "Brothers aren’t born they’re earned".
Situation and setting:
The poem is probably set in the Afghan war, due to the presence of the "Hindu Kush". The situation is fast moving at the start of the poem, with apt description of the heat of the battlefield and then slowly resides into that of tension where the persona reflects on everything he had been through and on how he had lived through another day of violence and bloodshed.
Language and Diction:
In my opinion, not many language devices are used. As for diction, the poet uses a lot of terms that I think is used in the army, such as "Paratrooper" instead of the conventional "soldiers", " pulling the trigger and reloading and pulling some more" instead of just "shooting" and "30 seconds they yelled, Lock N Load and grab your shit" which refer to the officers ordering his men to prepare for battle. This helps illustrate the real war time experience which is rushed, filled with anxiety and fast-paced.
Personal Response:
I think the poet is trying to pass on his experiences to the future generations. I do not really think his is taking a stand on whether war is good or evil but he is just trying to express the sentiments of a soldier when he is really in the war time situation. Due to this, I think readers will begin to feel that war is not as glorious the government makes it to be but actually a cold materialization of cruelty, bitterness and faith.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
We Slept With Our Boots On
"We Slept With Our Boots On" is a piece of war poetry written by Steve Carlson in the 2003-2010 period, after he was discharged from the army. In his 3 years in the American Army, he had been deployed into Kosovo and Afghanistan as a paratrooper, otherwise known as an airborne soldier. Hence, it can be assumed that the poem is based on his experiences in either of the two countries, if not both. The poem demonstrates the toughness of war and the misery that war brings about.It also has a tie in to religon, shown subtly in the bottom end of the poem.
We Slept With Our Boots On
They unloaded the dead and maimed right before our eyes
They washed out the blood, we loaded our ruck’s and then took to the skies
Over the mountains, villages, and valleys we flew
Where we would land we had not a clue
Bullets are flying, the LZ is hot
We’re leaving this bird whether we like it or not
30 seconds they yelled, Lock N Load and grab your shit
Get ready to go and make it quick
My heart is pumping adrenalin through all of my veins
I run as fast as I can through the lead rain
The noise is tremendous, terror I can’t define
The only reason I survived that day was divine
I kept pulling the trigger and reloading and pulling some more
You do what you have to do, with that I will say no more
We fought from the valleys to the mountain peaks
From house to cave, to car to creek
Dirty and tired and hungry and scared
We slept with our boots on so we were always prepared
Those majestic mountains so steep, so high they kiss the skies
The Hindu Kush has changed so many lives
Up the mountains with heavy loads we trod
Who knew hell was so close to God
Beauty and terror are a strong mixed drink
So we drank it like drunkards and tried not to think
Good men and bad men, Mothers lost son’s
Everyone loses their innocence when they carry guns
Washed in the blood, and baptized by fire
I will never forget those who were called higher
They say blood is thicker than water, well lead is thicker than blood
Brothers aren’t born they’re earned. In the poppy fields, the tears, and the mud
And when I get to heaven to Saint Peter I will tell
Another Paratrooper reporting for duty sir, I spent my time in hell
Steve Carlsen
We Slept With Our Boots On
They unloaded the dead and maimed right before our eyes
They washed out the blood, we loaded our ruck’s and then took to the skies
Over the mountains, villages, and valleys we flew
Where we would land we had not a clue
Bullets are flying, the LZ is hot
We’re leaving this bird whether we like it or not
30 seconds they yelled, Lock N Load and grab your shit
Get ready to go and make it quick
My heart is pumping adrenalin through all of my veins
I run as fast as I can through the lead rain
The noise is tremendous, terror I can’t define
The only reason I survived that day was divine
I kept pulling the trigger and reloading and pulling some more
You do what you have to do, with that I will say no more
We fought from the valleys to the mountain peaks
From house to cave, to car to creek
Dirty and tired and hungry and scared
We slept with our boots on so we were always prepared
Those majestic mountains so steep, so high they kiss the skies
The Hindu Kush has changed so many lives
Up the mountains with heavy loads we trod
Who knew hell was so close to God
Beauty and terror are a strong mixed drink
So we drank it like drunkards and tried not to think
Good men and bad men, Mothers lost son’s
Everyone loses their innocence when they carry guns
Washed in the blood, and baptized by fire
I will never forget those who were called higher
They say blood is thicker than water, well lead is thicker than blood
Brothers aren’t born they’re earned. In the poppy fields, the tears, and the mud
And when I get to heaven to Saint Peter I will tell
Another Paratrooper reporting for duty sir, I spent my time in hell
Steve Carlsen
Sunday, May 9, 2010
What makes us do what we do?
Me and my friend, Jinlin, almost meet daily on the same bus on our way to school every morning. The "52" bus service was always a crowded one, with middle-aged civil servants lining the walkway while the average secondary school student leaned drowsily against the slippery window pane or kept his nose deep inside a thick chemistry textbook. I always saw the same crowd of people whenever I took the bus. A fellow Secondary four senior whom I did not know by name but was all too familiar by face, a River-Valley High boy going to school along with his younger brother, my fellow Tae-Kwon-Do club practitioner who was one year my senior and of course, Jinlin. But there was always this old lady, frail yet always so serene, holding out a card with the figures "52", "154" and "151", holding a walking stick and traipsing blindly into an unaccommodating crowd.
Later, after conversing with Jinlin, who obviously knew what happened on the bus clearly than I did, I realized that she was blind. Partially or completely, I didn't know and I never would. Usually, she would stand at the front of the bus, presumably to ease herself when she needed to get off the bus. However, every now and then, she would want to sit down, and moved carefully towards the rear of the bus. It might have been public pressure that prompted all the young men I had seen so far to get off their seat hurriedly whenever she approached them. Whatever it is, she always got a seat.
I always wondered how the human psyche worked. When we see something that, by moral standards or personal dignity, had to be done, why is it that sometimes there's just that peculiar force that pulls us back. It is sort of like how a fly is attracted away from a tasty looking fruit towards a more vibrant and exotic pitcher plant. Somehow, I think lust for personal benefit and the sole interest in personal gain prompts us to do the "wrong" thing. However, in this case, what would have prompted these young men to do such a simple act of courtesy? Was it Pride? Was it Ego? I just could not understand.
Well, I could not understand until the day I gave up a seat myself.
I was on the bus service "52". My bag was heavy. The dead weight of the Toshiba Laptop and my uncomfortably soaked judogi nearly anchored me to the ground. It was one of the days I wished I brought enough money for a cab. I was resolved to take any opportunity I could get my hands on to obtain a seat and eventually, I got one...in the sitting area "reserved exclusively" for the elderly, handicapped and pregnant. I couldn't care less at the time.
Then, She boarded the bus. This time, I don't think she had much of a choice. The bus was even more packed than usual and she was prompted by the bus driver to move to the rear of the vehicle, where there were obviously no seats available. Apparently, the bus driver had assumed someone would give up their seat for her. She walked my way. I looked around and to my surprise, saw nonchalant, apathetic faces all around me. Where were the few young men who always offered their seats?
For the first time on the bus, I felt the gaze of the whole bus resting upon the group of four people sitting along the "reserved" seating area. It was as if they were forcing me to get up and give away my seat. I was indignant. If they were so high and mighty, why not they do it? I challenged them silently. However, another feeling burned steadily within me. It was fiery, but it was unlike anger, unlike envy, unlike anything I had felt before. Naturally, I stood up and walked off. As I passed, I saw something glitter behind those pair of dull, monotonous eyes and her warm smile made something within me flutter. I felt a ripple in the cool ocean of my heart. So that was what it felt like.
I think a good deed is not done out of ego or pride or shame. One cannot really say what truly prompted them to do what they did when they witnessed that moment of helplessness. But I guess, as some try to explain, we call it "doing it out of our heart".
Later, after conversing with Jinlin, who obviously knew what happened on the bus clearly than I did, I realized that she was blind. Partially or completely, I didn't know and I never would. Usually, she would stand at the front of the bus, presumably to ease herself when she needed to get off the bus. However, every now and then, she would want to sit down, and moved carefully towards the rear of the bus. It might have been public pressure that prompted all the young men I had seen so far to get off their seat hurriedly whenever she approached them. Whatever it is, she always got a seat.
I always wondered how the human psyche worked. When we see something that, by moral standards or personal dignity, had to be done, why is it that sometimes there's just that peculiar force that pulls us back. It is sort of like how a fly is attracted away from a tasty looking fruit towards a more vibrant and exotic pitcher plant. Somehow, I think lust for personal benefit and the sole interest in personal gain prompts us to do the "wrong" thing. However, in this case, what would have prompted these young men to do such a simple act of courtesy? Was it Pride? Was it Ego? I just could not understand.
Well, I could not understand until the day I gave up a seat myself.
I was on the bus service "52". My bag was heavy. The dead weight of the Toshiba Laptop and my uncomfortably soaked judogi nearly anchored me to the ground. It was one of the days I wished I brought enough money for a cab. I was resolved to take any opportunity I could get my hands on to obtain a seat and eventually, I got one...in the sitting area "reserved exclusively" for the elderly, handicapped and pregnant. I couldn't care less at the time.
Then, She boarded the bus. This time, I don't think she had much of a choice. The bus was even more packed than usual and she was prompted by the bus driver to move to the rear of the vehicle, where there were obviously no seats available. Apparently, the bus driver had assumed someone would give up their seat for her. She walked my way. I looked around and to my surprise, saw nonchalant, apathetic faces all around me. Where were the few young men who always offered their seats?
For the first time on the bus, I felt the gaze of the whole bus resting upon the group of four people sitting along the "reserved" seating area. It was as if they were forcing me to get up and give away my seat. I was indignant. If they were so high and mighty, why not they do it? I challenged them silently. However, another feeling burned steadily within me. It was fiery, but it was unlike anger, unlike envy, unlike anything I had felt before. Naturally, I stood up and walked off. As I passed, I saw something glitter behind those pair of dull, monotonous eyes and her warm smile made something within me flutter. I felt a ripple in the cool ocean of my heart. So that was what it felt like.
I think a good deed is not done out of ego or pride or shame. One cannot really say what truly prompted them to do what they did when they witnessed that moment of helplessness. But I guess, as some try to explain, we call it "doing it out of our heart".
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Traversing Cyberspace with caution and respect
Bidding a quick farewell to my pals at the Clementi MRT station, I noticed a bus numbered "52", blurred through my stained spectacle lenses. Instinctively but recklessly, I sped towards the bus, knocking into several of my fellow Singaporean commuters, with my bag bobbing unnaturally behind me. I managed a few hurried apologies as I stepped into the bus just in the nick of time. Lucky me.
I found a row of empty seats at the back of the bus. I always assumed people did not sit at the back because it would be troublesome for them to alight especially when the bus was crowded. Or maybe, it was because people did not want to associate themselves with the youths sitting at the back. I have observed that during off-peak hours, the back few rows would be occupied by teens, dressed flamboyantly or dolled up excessively. Perhaps others perceive them to be punks or rebels based on their appearance and refuse to go close to them. I admit, I am also just one of the Singapore majority who felt this way, but under the circumstances(I was carrying my heavy judo gi), I did not really have much of a choice. I did not regret my decision.
There were two teens sitting next to me. Judging by their tanned and muscular figure, I presumed that they were perhaps new NS enlistees or at the very least, JC 2 graduates. Putting that aside, I fished for my Nintendo DS Lite and flicked on the switch. After another exhausting day in the dojo, I was intent on having a bit of fun before I reached home, where all my work were waiting for my return.
I was halfway through a challenging puzzle(I never finished it) when I heard one of the two teens utter "Facebook" and "kids shouldn't be allowed access to it". I was lucky to have resisted the impulse of looking at the pair. I calmed myself down and settled back down, this time listening attentively to catch the remaining of their conversation.
Here's what I heard(Not all of it is exact):
I wish I could have heard the remaining conversation between them but I had to alight. However, I think these two teens had expressed a million words with just this short exchange.
There have been a lot of talk over Facebook these days, especially with the recent sacking of a principal in the Europe due to one of her students flaming her on Facebook. Being a Facebook user myself, I cannot say that it is completely useless and harmful but I can say that it comes with its own set of rules and penalties, as with all other social networking sites. The development of Facebook helps encourage many positive aspects of social interaction with friends from all walks of life, relatives living abroad and even teachers working through the night to answer the numerous queries we all have. This was what Facebook was created for in the Facebook, right? However, everything has its limits and its disadvantages. For example, the ability to post any comment, make any remark or accept any friend request with the simple click of the mouse makes Facebook users prone to rash behaviour. Do we think, before we angrily post an enraged lament online? Do we think, before we comment stupidly on our friend's post? Do we think, who are we actually hooking up with? The disadvantage of Facebook is that it merely a platform of trust between users. No one really knows who is behind that familiar name or that believable profile picture. Going one step further, we are prone to expressing our thoughts and feelings without any hesitation or doubt because we think we are being surrounded by our friends. This may sound paranoid but, who are our REAL friends? Can we really trust those people whom we accept friend requests from?
I think it all boils down to respect and safety. Whatever we do, whatever we say, we must respect those who would see or hear about it. This way, we would not offend anyone mistakingly or send friend requests to people we do not know. We are one community. We should respect those around us and not pry into their life if they do not want us to or insult them. If there is a feud between us, we should settle it face to face, and not let our argument transverse into cyberspace. Also, we must be careful when treading though the vast oceans of the social network. Due to the internet's secretive nature, we never know who we really are conversing or hooking up with. Hence, it is important that we have a strong sense of cyber-awareness which encompasses taking care of our personal information. We must see through a disguised friend and we must not trust a cyber fiend.
A safe network...what a Utopian dream...
I found a row of empty seats at the back of the bus. I always assumed people did not sit at the back because it would be troublesome for them to alight especially when the bus was crowded. Or maybe, it was because people did not want to associate themselves with the youths sitting at the back. I have observed that during off-peak hours, the back few rows would be occupied by teens, dressed flamboyantly or dolled up excessively. Perhaps others perceive them to be punks or rebels based on their appearance and refuse to go close to them. I admit, I am also just one of the Singapore majority who felt this way, but under the circumstances(I was carrying my heavy judo gi), I did not really have much of a choice. I did not regret my decision.
There were two teens sitting next to me. Judging by their tanned and muscular figure, I presumed that they were perhaps new NS enlistees or at the very least, JC 2 graduates. Putting that aside, I fished for my Nintendo DS Lite and flicked on the switch. After another exhausting day in the dojo, I was intent on having a bit of fun before I reached home, where all my work were waiting for my return.
I was halfway through a challenging puzzle(I never finished it) when I heard one of the two teens utter "Facebook" and "kids shouldn't be allowed access to it". I was lucky to have resisted the impulse of looking at the pair. I calmed myself down and settled back down, this time listening attentively to catch the remaining of their conversation.
Here's what I heard(Not all of it is exact):
"... Facebook."
"Oh that, I think kids shouldn't be allowed access to it. They post things like 'stupid'and insult others. Childish."
"Yeah, but..."
"I mean, I was from ACS. I have a friend who is a trainee teacher at... I think it was Nanhua. She corresponds with some of her students through facebook, to hold discussions and stuff. I have seen the way her students reply to her, it was...okay, she is quite a shy person...but the way they replied to her were... their replies could be improved, like to show a little bit more respect."
"I think this is just..."
I wish I could have heard the remaining conversation between them but I had to alight. However, I think these two teens had expressed a million words with just this short exchange.
There have been a lot of talk over Facebook these days, especially with the recent sacking of a principal in the Europe due to one of her students flaming her on Facebook. Being a Facebook user myself, I cannot say that it is completely useless and harmful but I can say that it comes with its own set of rules and penalties, as with all other social networking sites. The development of Facebook helps encourage many positive aspects of social interaction with friends from all walks of life, relatives living abroad and even teachers working through the night to answer the numerous queries we all have. This was what Facebook was created for in the Facebook, right? However, everything has its limits and its disadvantages. For example, the ability to post any comment, make any remark or accept any friend request with the simple click of the mouse makes Facebook users prone to rash behaviour. Do we think, before we angrily post an enraged lament online? Do we think, before we comment stupidly on our friend's post? Do we think, who are we actually hooking up with? The disadvantage of Facebook is that it merely a platform of trust between users. No one really knows who is behind that familiar name or that believable profile picture. Going one step further, we are prone to expressing our thoughts and feelings without any hesitation or doubt because we think we are being surrounded by our friends. This may sound paranoid but, who are our REAL friends? Can we really trust those people whom we accept friend requests from?
I think it all boils down to respect and safety. Whatever we do, whatever we say, we must respect those who would see or hear about it. This way, we would not offend anyone mistakingly or send friend requests to people we do not know. We are one community. We should respect those around us and not pry into their life if they do not want us to or insult them. If there is a feud between us, we should settle it face to face, and not let our argument transverse into cyberspace. Also, we must be careful when treading though the vast oceans of the social network. Due to the internet's secretive nature, we never know who we really are conversing or hooking up with. Hence, it is important that we have a strong sense of cyber-awareness which encompasses taking care of our personal information. We must see through a disguised friend and we must not trust a cyber fiend.
A safe network...what a Utopian dream...
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