Christmas 2014

Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it!

A Parting Gift

He roamed his eyes over the cufflinks, which were arranged neatly, row after row, on discreet black velvet trays. For some reason, he was the only customer in the shop. Maybe it was just the time of the day when business was slow. Nevertheless, it seemed that the long upheld traditions of wearing cufflinks and pocket squares were fast disappearing in an age of fluid modernity that did away with the excesses of the past. If he weren't shopping for a gift, he wouldn't have entered this little shop.

There were a few playful designs that turned up the corners of his mouth. He was sure his best friend wouldn't mind declaring his favourite football team on his wrists, but how often does one get to be cheeky? Certainly not in front of a prospective employer, or at one's graduation ceremony. He sighed. The thought of him graduating soon and most probably, separating with the few friends he'd made here weighed heavily on his mind. Not that he would miss all of them anyway — most of them were his acquaintances and at most, allies with whom he'd weathered so many storms. But his best friend?

He was brought out of his reverie when a salesgirl approached his side, smiled curtly and tried to offer her assistance. "What style are you looking for, sir?"

"Something elegant," he replied, then added, as an afterthought, "but understated."

"Are you buying for yourself, sir? Or ..." the girl ventured to ask, before turning slightly away to sneeze.

"I'm buying for my brother," he lied, without batting an eye. It wasn't entirely a lie. His best friend was like a brother he'd never had.

"For what occasion? Is he graduating? Or already working?"

"Graduating soon. But it's more like a Christmas gift for him." Another lie, no, half-truth. He wanted to thank his best friend for sticking with him through thick and thin, for trusting him when no one else did and for being such an understanding person. Something even his filthy rich parents back home couldn't provide him with.

"How sweet of you to buy a gift for your brother," the salesgirl commented with a smile. "Do you know what he likes?"

"He's a serious person." Which was true. They were total opposites of one another: one gregarious, the other quiet. One academic, the other athletic. One rich, the other, well, not so affluent. Not that he minded all these and other differences anyway - he liked that they were able to connect with each other, sometimes without words, almost telepathically. They were thick as thieves and he'd daresay that his best friend was his soulmate, if he actually believed in such things.

The salesgirl had selected a few pairs of cufflinks and pinned them on a display shirt for him to inspect. "This is our bestseller. A lot of customers like its gold and silver design. Now these here are simpler, since you said your brother is serious. The designs are not very complicated, and the colour is not so eye-catching but still, they look good."

He compared the few choices he'd been presented with, turning each one this way and that to check for the glint of light reflecting off its surface. He wasn't a good judge of aesthetics - that was his friend's forte. He still remembered the first time he made his best friend a gift of a set of high quality paint brushes. His friend, though a gifted painter himself, politely declined the gift, citing a long list of reasons that he couldn't quite grasp. He wasn't trying to show off his, or rather, his parents' wealth, or trying to measure their friendship in gold. It was just his way of showing his gratitude.

"I still find the gold and silver ones better than the rest," he decided. He was quite optimistic that his best friend wouldn't mind a parting gift (and a fancy one at that too), since he would be flying back to his home country come the new year. After all, there can only be so many times that he can reject him. Even if that were to happen, he thought he could ride on the festive mood of the upcoming Christmas and be his best friend's secret Santa.

The salesgirl brought the cufflinks to the counter next to the cash register and slipped them into a large black velvet tray. "Please examine them, sir. Our products have a warranty period of six months for manufacturing defects. If you're not satisfied with your purchase, you can come back within the next two weeks and exchange them, with the receipt as proof." He rolled the little pieces of metal with his fingers and wondered whether his best friend would like them.

When he finally paid for the "Christmas gift" for his "brother," the salesgirl once again smiled and praised him for being such a good sibling. To which he said nothing, but offered the girl a smile identical to hers.

Author's Note: As far as I remember, this is my first attempt at creative writing after graduating from high school. It's rather rough and unpolished, but I thought I should write something non-factual after submitting my thesis/dissertation. Anyway, this story combines two themes from psychological research: best friendship and affluence. Male/male friendships and intimacy between two guys have been underrepresented or avoided altogether mainly due to two reasons: (a) fear of being mislabeled as a homosexual and (b) society's insistent imposition of the tough guy image/masculinity, which promotes competition rather than collaboration. Therefore I chose to write about two males in a best friendship, but best friends could also be of male/female pairing or female/female pairing etc. The other theme, affluence, only recently emerged from social psychological studies. Psychologists tend to focus on the underprivileged and people of minority status, such as the poor, the mentally challenged etc. Some psychologists, however, urged that more research attention and clinical interventions should be directed to the other end of the extreme: the rich. Interested readers could find an illuminating introductory to affluence in Luthar's (2003) paper "The Culture of Affluence: Psychological Costs of Material Wealth." As you can see, this story is relatively straightforward. I'll try to be more subtle in my future writings. Constructive feedback are welcomed. Happy holidays! — 23 Nov. 14.

Nine: Nine Time Travels

[ Spoiler Alert!: Stop right here if you don't want me to spoil the plot for you. ]

Personally I don't believe in time travelling and time machine, but I'll be happy to revise my stand once the scientific evidence comes in. Nonetheless, time travel is still a popular framework within which many stories have been structured. The 2013 South Korean drama, "Nine: Nine Time Travels" was one such example, incorporating themes such as time, choice, love, guilt, forgiveness, revenge and redemption. If you ask me how would I summarise the drama in six words, I would say: "Life is a sum of choices." A quote here would be useful before going any further:

“No matter what choice you make, it doesn’t define you. Not forever. People can make bad choices and change their minds and hearts and do good things later; just as people can make good choices and then turn around and walk a bad path. No choice we make lasts our whole life. If there’s ever a choice you’ve made that you no longer agree with, you can make another choice.” — Jonathan Maberry, Dust and Decay

Pic credits: JS Pictures/Chorokbaem Media, tvN

The time machine used in the drama consists of nine incense sticks and has the following properties:

• When lighted, each incense stick would transport the time traveller approximately 20 years back in time to exactly the same space that the traveller is occupying in the present time.
• The duration of time travel is exactly 30 minutes for each incense stick lighted. However, it is not known what would happen when more than one incense stick are lighted.
• Any interruption to the burning of the incense stick would immediately send the time traveller back to the present time, i.e., the time when the traveller started out.
• The time traveller faces certain consequences, e.g., life shortened or something dear to the time traveller is removed. 
• The time traveller and those who know about time travelling will have two sets of memories: reality as it ought to be and reality as a result of the time traveller tinkering with the past.

Pic credits: JS Pictures/Chorokbaem Media, tvN

What I liked about the drama:

• Non-linear storytelling. Using "time travel" as a main concept in the drama certainly increased the risk of messing up the timelines, but the writers handled it well. The details were neatly arranged and appropriately revealed as the stories progressed. Not a dull moment, in fact, very riveting. The past and the present keep changing, so the audience wouldn't know who would emerge the victor. The timelines were differentiated by: (a) the 1990's were painted in hues warmer than the 2010's and (b) time and location would be displayed when the story switched between timelines. Seamless transition!
• Original and ingenious script. Just when you thought that Korean scriptwriters had run out of ideas, here the writers made brilliant use of these familiar ingredients in typical Korean melodramas: memory loss, unrequited love, incurable disease, death and fairy tales, against the backdrop of time travel. Many Korean dramas have predictable plots, but not this one: I was sure it would go this direction, then suddenly I was blindsided. The drama was also able to elicit a whole range of emotions thanks to its writing. In short, I was cognitively and emotionally persuaded by it, which means it's an excellent effort by the cast and crew. 
• Great soliloquies and dialogues. When the characters moaned, groaned and generally wallowed in self-pity, they didn't just give empty speeches. The actors and actresses breathed life into the lines they delivered in such a way that the audience would readily emphatise with them. Sometimes, it was truly marvelous that the words spoken by a character in one context, as if in premonition, would take on another meaning in another situation, usually by the end of the same episode.
• Cliffhangers in the last few episodes. Cliffhangers in general are overused, badly utilised and very annoying. Still, many books and movies have employed such a method to keep the audience wanting for more. With this drama, however, I could see that the writers didn't throw cliffhangers in just to boost viewership. On the contrary, the cliffhangers here were well-placed and much like surgical procedures: localised, painful yet purposeful.
• Use of props. The writers and/or the director included in the drama Whitney Houston's version of "I Will Always Love You" (her vinyl record was used as a main prop, to top it off), which was smart. Time travels would make changes to events, but the love between the leads is enduring. Not "I loved you", not "I love you", but "I will always love you," come what may. Other props were well utilised, not just thrown in and later abandoned. You see a prop here in this timeline, then in the other timeline it would be re-used (ensuring continuity) or at least its whereabouts would be explained.
• Attention to detail. Despite the massive amount of details, they were handled quite well. Time travelling was made more believable through the adjustments to currency, technology, manual/auto vehicle transmissions, calendars, newspapers and television shows. As for the acting, the cast did a good job bringing out the minute details in their body language. Just to cite some examples: The male lead smiled through tears, unable to confide in his beloved the secrets of time travel. The female lead's hand shook as the male lead related to her what he was about to do. 

Pic credits: JS Pictures/Chorokbaem Media, tvN

What I disliked about the drama (minor grouses, really):

• Mirrors everywhere. I don't know whose idea it was to use so many mirrors in the drama to catch the reflection of actors' and actresses' facial expressions. It seemed smart at first, but later on seeing the same trick being pulled became boring. 
• The same ahjussi playing the villain. Actor Jung Dong-hwan was fantastic in his portrayal of yet another villain whom the audience would love to hate: the manipulative antagonist Choi Jin-chul. No offence to Mr. Jung, whose acting chops are excellent, but really, are there no other actors?
• In advancing the plot, some characters did things out of their character. For example, the male lead could've just kept his mouth shut and not tell the villain about the time machine. He had kept his time machine a secret from the villain so well, only to supply that information in his moment of anger/dejection, with no other reason than for the writers to push the plot along.
• Peculiar shooting angles. In some scenes, the shooting angle clearly came from a camera hidden in a drawer, fridge or whatever it was that the character was opening up and staring into, à la Korean reality/entertainment shows. I think it was totally weird to shoot from down-up, or from the character's behind.
• Mouths wide open in surprise and characters staring into the lens. Whenever the past has been altered, the characters in the present would acknowledge the changes in their memory by forming roundish "O"s with their slightly agape mouths and staring right into the lens, as though breaking the fourth wall. Although I understand why such expressions were needed, they weren't really aesthetic. Like who would take any character seriously after seeing him/her with such a childish expression?

Pic credits: JS Pictures/Chorokbaem Media, tvN

Thoughts:

• I do pity Sun-woo, the poor male lead who went through one catastrophe after another. From the first episode I already knew that the male lead had some sort of disease. It couldn't be altitude sickness and a headache couldn't be a headache because simple explanations don't have a place in Korean dramas. What had he done to deserve such treatment, my dear scriptwriters? Just when you thought he would be safe or happy, suddenly something bad had to happen. My heart had been wrenched, trampled upon, cut open, sewn back only to be stabbed, watching Sun-woo's misfortunes.
• Hyung-sik (who played the younger Sun-woo) has grown in his acting skills. The last I saw him was from The Heirs. I'm really looking forward to seeing more of his acting in the future.
• The sidekick a.k.a. best friend of the male lead really deserved an award. He had such a strong heart to stick by his friend and protect him. If I were him, I would've shattered knowing what my best friend was facing.
• The consequences of time travelling were heavily described in the drama. Time travel might offer tantalising opportunities to change the past, but any alteration, however slight, disrupts a whole host of things and produces ripple effects across timelines. Never attempt to play God or tempt fate. I hope time machines will not be invented - they are terrible tools that will spawn evil. Knowledge itself is already an awful power, but it pales in comparison to time machine. Put them together, I don't know if humanity has a chance.
• Memory is unreliable. I learned this in cognitive psychology. What we think we remember might not be what we actually remember, or what actually transpired. Our memory is not a perfect recorder that would capture every moment and detail. Whenever there are gaps, our mind would fill them in with plausible things that we make up. 
• That said, whether or not one remembers something depends on one's ability to receive and process sensory information, as well as one's general cognitive ability (intelligence). The reason the female lead remembered the moments shared with the male lead was because there were multiple forms of information inputted. Visual, auditory, tactile, olfactory, taste, to name a few. Add to those emotions that were aroused in the female lead: love, joy and contentment. A piece of memory would be easier to retrieve if it contained several types of sensory processing and strong emotion(s). The female lead arrived at her real identity after she copied her own message for the male lead hidden in the paper sleeve of the Houston vinyl record. She remembered using the same pen (tactile cue) and murmuring the words "I will always love you" (auditory cue). These two cues, along with the strange things her "step-uncle" had been telling her,  helped her realise her real identity.
• In psychology, counterfactual thinking happens when one generates alternatives for things that have happened in the past. An example would be thinking "what if I have come a little earlier?" The drama highlighted how diverse choices and courses of action would turn out differently. Rather than having the characters ruminating on "what-ifs", the drama directly presented some alternate accounts. In so doing we could see that there are gives and takes for each choice, pros and cons that could only be analysed in hindsight.
• Episode 19 bowled me over the same way Chapter 33 of "Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows" had done. I also saw some striking resemblance between Sun-woo and Harry when they knew they were about to die, and what purpose their lives served.
• The last episode tied everything up nicely, save for the epilogue which was open to interpretations (yes, multiple fantasies possible). Throughout the drama, the audience is kept in suspense, and love it or hate it, the writers ended it in still more suspense. The male lead keeps rewriting his life story. Is this a curse or a blessing? A blessing disguised as a curse? A curse disguised as a blessing? How many times will he live his life?
• I like the overall style, pace and cinematography of the drama. It deserves a five out of five rating and is worth a re-watch (to count the incense sticks and some other details). Recommended for those of you who like philosophy, mystery, time travelling and/or Korean brand of tragic romance.

Pic credits: JS Pictures/Chorokbaem Media, tvN

A Night of Lights & Reflections

Guess what? I attended prom last night! I don't see myself as the type of person who goes for this kind of social event, but since I'm graduating I thought I'd give it a try. I've been preparing for it for quite some time, first by researching everything about prom then buying the necessary attire, accessories and of course, prom ticket.

Attire

With the fashion faux-pas I committed at my cousin's wedding dinner earlier this year still fresh in mind, I was careful to adhere to the dress code this time around. The organising committee just stated that it would be formal, but didn't mention how formal. This grey area allowed me some room for experimentation, but I still planned and prepared two sets of attire, just in case of any mishap or last minute changes.

The first look was based on black tie dress code, since the event would be from 6.30pm onwards. I managed to put together a white dress shirt with wing collars and a pleated front, a black bow tie, black slacks and black dress shoes. The only item I lacked was a proper dinner jacket with those shiny lapels seen on a typical tuxedo ensemble. I thought of using a black blazer as replacement. The second look was, quite simply, a business attire, comprising of a white turn down collar shirt, black skinny tie, black blazer, black slacks and black leather shoes. I've even thrown in a simple tie pin and re-learned Eldredge knot to complete the look.

The more I read about prom and black tie dress code, the more undecided I became on what to wear. It seems that the only option for guys going to prom (generally considered a black tie event) is to wear a tux. Some experts were vehemently opposed to the idea of passing a blazer off as a tuxedo jacket. Fashion purists also condemned sewn-on wing collars as well as the abomination that is the combination of wing collars and pleated front. These two reasons were what made me go for the second look, which was admittedly easier to put on. The slight difficulty was tying the perfect Eldredge knot - I finally achieved the inverted equilateral triangle on the third attempt. It was only when I put on my tie pin that I realised it was too wide for my skinny tie.

At that juncture I was fed up. Screw what the fashion police said - I'd rather be happy with what I wear than following the rules and be sad. Typical Malaysians (like me) couldn't even distinguish the different types of dress code, let alone notice my swapping of jacket. The absence of contrasting lapels would only show when I was being photographed, I hoped.

Transport

Although it is customary in Western countries, it would be quite a stretch to rent a limousine in Kuala Lumpur just to get to the prom venue, not to mention impractical due to the traffic congestion. The prom organisers have arranged for a shuttle van service from our university's hostel to the hotel where the prom was being held. The driver wanted to know how many students would use the service, but the organisers didn't confirm with him. I knew someone from the committee, so I called her and checked with her. Apparently only two students requested for the shuttle service, but there would be more students on the return trip. With that, the driver, another student and I were off to the hotel.

The driver gave me his number and asked me to call or text him when the prom ended. I became the liaison between the prom organising committee and the driver. What a peculiar turn of events. I didn't mind at all because the transport was free of charge (perhaps already counted in the prom ticket) and dialling a few numbers wasn't that difficult. No, I didn't mind.

Waiting

What I was keenly aware of, though, was that I arrived way too early with nothing do except lounging around the lobby. Unashamedly taking selfies, I should add.

Other prom attendees trickled in through the entrance, some in groups and a few in pairs. I thought I was smart enough to park myself on a couch next to the grand staircase facing the main entrance. In that position I could easily look out for my friends. They might park in the basement and take a lift up to the ballroom, or slip past me unnoticed among a throng of hotel guests. Considering these possibilities, I got up and walked about in the lobby. 

The lobby itself didn't look very big, owing to the fact that there were these decorative pillars occupying the centre space. The elevators and escalators were tucked away in the corner on one side and the other side constituted the reception desk as well as restaurants/cafés to its right. A small pool of fish was swimming in a man-made pond beneath the staircase, and beyond that there was some sort of garden with an adjoining bar.

I pretty much explored what there was to explore in the lobby, except for the restricted areas. When it got closer to 6.30pm, more prom attendees arrived, recognisable by their formal outfits in varying degrees of elegance and outlandishness. I waited for another 10-15 minutes before journeying up to the ballroom to wait for my friends there instead.

Lumières

The theme was "lumières", where "lumière" stands for "light". At first blush, it seemed that the committee simply chose a French word for prom to sound elegant/high-class. I thought so, too, until I read about the rationale behind the theme in the programme:

'Lumières', inspired by the 18th century philosophical stage of the same name, was chosen as the name and theme for the ball this year to bring about an enlightening atmosphere, a reminder that all of us in psychology to never stop seeking truth critically, and through that to bring positive change in whatever endeavour we embark on.

In English, it meant that the theme was borrowed from the Age of Enlightenment in Western philosophy. Not many prom attendees adhered to the theme, of course. In terms of colour, most gentlemen opted for black, white and navy blue, though there were some splashes of red here and there. Burgundy and maroon were quite popular. The ladies had more choices - almost every colour on the spectrum was represented.

The event itself started off with a few speeches, before proceeding to a light suit dance performance, where the two performers wearing LED costumes danced in a robotic manner parallelling each other. At the end of the performance, the emcee made a grand entrance by blowing a quick burst of fire on stage. The emcee was a rather famous senior, known for his magic tricks, humour and afro hair. Within the first few minutes, he cracked multiple jokes centred on stereotypes, racism and sex.

The food was passable (neither terrible nor exceptional), with the most memorable item being the red velvet cake. I couldn't get enough of them! While we were having dinner, there were some entertainment going on: skits by first year students and a live band covering pop songs. After dinner, I managed to record a few songs that were covered by students, tutors and lecturers. Looking at them totally immersing themselves in the songs, I was transported down the memory lane. "Rolling in the Deep" reminded me of a course I took in foundation year. "Yellow" and "A Sky Full of Stars" spoke to a time when I was stuck in doing assignments and just wished to take a break from it all. Surrounded by music and chatter, I thought: this was it, the culmination of three years of hard work in degree, the perfect end to a busy stressful year.

There was a juncture when the friend seated to my left felt cold and I loaned my blazer to her. Taking off the blazer made me look like a waiter, but again, I didn't mind since it was the right thing to do. Etiquette. Not long after, another friend whom I thought I'd never see again came by our table. We chatted, mainly talking about how the past few months have been gruelling to us and what our future holds. He was supposed to do a fourth year (since he transferred to another programme earlier this year) but he decided against it, giving up the honours. I asked whether he'll attend convocation. He replied that paying a thousand ringgit just to get robed and go onstage to receive a scroll of certificate wasn't worth his money. Funnily, he persuaded me to go for convocation and asked me whether I'll study masters. I think, in his mind and to his eye, I'm forever a nerd. From the day we knew each other (orientation day) to now (prom night), we remained mere acquaintances but we connected at a certain depth (or so I thought). Every time we met, we looked as if we knew each other our whole lives and we picked up where we left off last time. Hopefully our paths will cross again, but in case they don't, I was happy to achieve a closure last night. We bade each other good luck and left it at that.

At this awkward transition from late adolescence to young adulthood, where you are neither a child nor an adult, you meet and lose people fairly often. Your friends scatter to the four winds, studying or working far away from each other. If you're lucky or unlucky enough (depending on your perspective), you might witness death of the people you know. Not that deaths of close ones occur more frequently during this stage of your life, but rather, you have sufficient intellect to fully grasp the meaning of death and loss. You're no longer disillusioned like a child would, and you see the years stretching ahead of you, wondering how you might travel down the road with all these losses. Not everyone you lose is a loss, though. You should know that there are bound to be unresolved differences between you and certain people. You just couldn't get along no matter how hard you've tried, and that's normal - a prom isn't a reconciliation party. For myself, I backed away discreetly when I saw my thesis supervisor selecting his buffet dinner.

The prom king and queen were chosen by the crowd: nominees who had the loudest cheers received the sash and crown/tiara. Quite abruptly, the prom ended when the prom king and queen opened the dance floor. I'm not a big fan of dancing, but seeing as a friend tried so hard in getting everyone up and dance, I stood up and led the way to the dance floor. I alternately made incomprehensible arm movements, tapped my feet and swayed with the crowd. My friends and I made a "train" too, briefly, before stopping entirely because a friend couldn't dance without tripping on her long dress. A few course mates strong in dancing made their way up to the stage and showed us what real dancing looked like. The centre of the dance floor cleared slowly as people made way to the edges, allowing for some sort of "dance competition" to go on. Throughout, the music blasted from the speakers. I recognised some electropop and house music, but didn't dance much. I slipped away and made preparations to leave because the driver informed me through text that he was already waiting outside the hotel.

I took quite a few photos with my friends outside the ballroom, said my farewells and walked towards the escalators ... before being summoned back to take a group photo. I practically ran the length of the open space, not caring how I looked because I was running out of time. A friend joked that I behaved like Cinderella fearing her carriage would turn into pumpkins. I tried my best to force a smile on my face as we took yet another group shot. It was harder to say goodbye a second time, but I did it quickly and sped down the escalators. I didn't want to make the driver wait any longer than was necessary.

Return

Once again, I rang up my friend from the organising committee and confirmed with her the number of people who would take the van back to the hostel (she sounded apologetic). A total of five guys including me made the return journey together with the driver.

Humans being social animals, we naturally felt inclined to talk, even though we were strangers to each other. I was exhausted, so I didn't join in the conversation the guys were having, where the topics ranged from prom to university facilities to beverages. I was asked by this guy on my right which year I was in. "Third year, third sem, just in time to get away, with all the shops closing."

We made it back to the university hostel in about 15 minutes. There, we bade each other goodbye out of courtesy and went our separate ways. "Drive safe," one of them called out. "Yeah, sure," I replied, just to be polite. I called to my mind's eye a few lines from a poem by Longfellow, which I think is appropriate as an ending to the prom night and this post:

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.

《真實謊言》

作詞：張美賢
作曲：張家誠

誰人在場內對天對地 說出老實謊言
誰人在門外向左向右 撥起猛烈火焰
若舊時只可跟隨遊盪 在腳邊
十年後都可使你驚惶 紅著臉
唯求用潛力發光發熱 似花吐艷眼前

讓快樂時候停在當晚那盛宴
要一切從頭逆轉不需鮮血濺
倦了吧其實未到終點
錯或對 今天反了面 明日再並肩
讓歲月沉澱人事分秒也在變
就算谷底裡亦能安守 好戲上演
遠走的風景不要思念 用最大能力背水一戰

誰人用沉默冷冰冷面 掩飾最亂痴纏
誰人在同步各走各路 揭穿各自嘴臉
讓舊時洶湧一場盟誓 在耳邊
熱情後都可轉向忽然 拿著箭
唯求用時日每天每段 最終到達最前

讓美麗良善如像標誌 印在臉
要一切從頭逆轉找到轉捩點
倦了吧緣份又轉一圈
愛或怨 今天雖了斷 明日再發展
讓歲月沉澱人事分秒也在變
就算釜底都可以抽薪 好戲上演
遠走的風景不要思念 用最大能力背水一戰
最好的光景總有考驗 用最大成就獲得冠冕

如初

I slowed down my pace as I watched a girl lift a bulky camera, pointing it upwards at a bank of clouds. It was a majestic sight that greeted me when I looked up into the sky: behind the large masses of clouds which seemed concrete with their clear outlines was a bright patch where, no doubt, the sun had retreated. Call it good fortune if you will, I had never encountered such an image for the past few weeks when I've taken this route by foot after my late afternoon classes on Thursdays. 

Why walk, rather than take a shuttle bus back to where I parked? Well, since my class ended around six in the afternoon, taking the bus was out of the question because the rush hour traffic congestion would stretch a 10-minute bus ride to a more ridiculous duration. Walking would be a better option. That was what a senior advised me during my orientation, what, two? three? years ago. It was the last class of my entire degree, so I might as well savour this final walk. 

The ebb and flow of my emotions was determined by each flashback of memories that alternately trailed behind me, skipped ahead of me and walked beside me with a heavy arm draped over my shoulder lazily, like a long lost friend. People sing songs and mourn for those who got away, but nobody cares enough about those who left behind. Why? Perhaps there's no poetry in it. You can only face the stark reality and pick up the pieces of you that still can be recovered.  

For the past 11 months, I've been taking photos of the places surrounding my university, which sadly still doesn't have a permanent and integrated campus. Big franchises and small enterprises around the university all closed one by one, turning the area into one which resembled a ghost town. I thought I should keep some pictures in case I get nostalgic in the years to come. 

 

In your life, you meet people. Some you never think about again. Some, you wonder what happened to them. There are some that you wonder if they ever think about you. And then there are some you wish you never had to think about again. But you do. — C. S. Lewis

骄兵必败

看着我们组被客户批评，我竟然如此淡定。
也许是因为我有预感，早已有心里准备。

我们的“客户”其实是我们的讲师。
当初我拿这一科工业与组织心理学，不为积分而是讨经验。
之前修过的其他课专注于心理学、辅导、研究之类的。
工业与组织心理学有些不同，学的是人力资源管理、商业和培训人才。
其中一门功课是设计一个人才培训计划，然后见“客户”、解释给他听。

这个计划可分成三大部分，而我们把自己组员分成三个部门。
我主管的部门负责挑选人才，另外两个部门则发展人才和评估整个计划。
上次的会议中，客户似乎喜欢我们的概念，对我的部门更是毫无恶评。
不足为奇呀，因为有我在，再小的细节我都会跟我部门的同事商量。

上一个环节中我们在会议前一天才相聚讨论做presentation的事。
着装最后敲定为正装，而且是超正式的那种。
投影片由我一手包办——我还记得那一晚开夜车准备我要讲的东西。
相较于其他“公司”慢工出细活，我们临时抱佛脚却意外得到青睐。
我们的半正式着装也吓着其他组，他们以为我们很有准备。

也许是因为上个环节我们以高分领先，所以松懈、毫无上进心。
第二环节要做出一份完整、可行的策划执行书。
讲师已经再三叮嘱我们要认真对待这份报告、尽早开始，
因为有大量的细节要处理，而且三个部分都要划一。
大部分组员都在忙着写毕业论文，无暇理会讲师的忠告。
我吩咐我小组的组员开始写，不必等我。
她们最后都在赶功课，完全搁置了那份报告。

交了论文，我马上跟她俩开会讨论要写什么。
其他部门连开会都省了。
虽然我的部门提早交足功课，其他部门迟迟才开始写。
最后成品像是随便拼出来的，文法拼字用语乱糟糟。
其实我应该帮忙检查的，可是我并没这么做。
说真的，做了我们这部门的东西，我直接就丢给其他部门善后。

今天中午的会议，由我开始讲解我部门添加的细节。
由于没准备好，所以我们索性不用投影片。
我才讲不到三句，客户就打岔，叫我进入正题。
我一语概括——我们的拣选人才程序大致上没更变。
然后我就让其他两个部门的主管解释他们的部分。

客户简直不给面子，当众质问关于细节的东西。
其他两位主管不敢讲真话，拐弯抹角。
我听得出客户其实要我们展示证据，有根有据地解释。
我们根本没他要的东西，只是在耍太极。
会议室一度静下来，尴尬得很。
我们的领导人还向客户致歉，为我们的不专业负责。

这些都是我预料之中的事。
早在上个周五提交执行书的时候，骇人的消息传遍开来。
其他三组开夜车彻夜未眠，呕心沥血写出几百业的报告。
我们只有一百五十业，其他组的作品像百科全书那么厚！
我在准备我想解释的部分时，做了最坏的打算。
万一我答不到客户的问题，我准备鞠躬抱歉。
我也猜想到客户会火力全开，专攻我们的细节不够仔细。
走进会议室就俨如上战场——这次是没带足够子弹上场！

客户/讲师给评语时，说我们的点子不错，够创新。
败在我们轻敌自负，没认真处理报告里的细节。
漏洞百出、用语欠佳 、格式不齐……
讲师笑着给评语，想骂人可是抑制自己，只是大声说话。
我们大部分人拉长脸不敢直视他。

人才培训和整体评估两个部门被批评得较多。
我们这些拣选人才的本来没被骂，后来被说present得不好。
其实到头来我们都是同一条船的人，其他部门被责备，我也难辨其咎。
我这个这么注重细节、英语好的人应该辅助他们，而非自扫门前雪。

会议后我们聚在一起反思，我闷不吭声。
不是因为生气、伤心、后悔——都太迟了。
我只是用平常心看待此事，而且过了这关，压力都纾解了。

我感到解脱，可是看到其他组员低头丧气的，我不多说什么。
龟兔赛跑要重演多少遍，我们才领悟到骄兵必败？

Bye Thesis

A mandatory post-writeup, pre-submission pic of my thesis

Handed in my thesis last week and presented about my research this morning at our semester-ly (I don't know if there's such a word) colloquium. Was a bit perturbed by the fact that the only question I got during the Q & A session concerned future directions for research. I was actually expecting tougher questions than that, come on!

After colloquium (good riddance!), I went out with my friends to have lunch and catch a movie. I watched "Interstellar" with a friend, while the rest of them chose "Big Hero 6". 

I have watched the trailer for "Interstellar" and seen the artistic rendering of black hole (really awesome). I admit that I was rather intrigued by the use of a poem in the trailer, so I wanted to find out how good it actually is. Suffice to say, "Interstellar" was another mind-blowing masterpiece. The downside of it was after a long day of presentations, my brain was a bit slower in processing the physics lingo in the movie. So many layers and textures! Thankfully it wasn't as difficult to comprehend as the director's previous work, "Inception". Or maybe that's because I've read "A Brief History of Time" over the summer break (so I was able to follow things like wormhole, black hole, gravity, relativity, etc). Excellent movie, I would say.

That's all for now. It's been a long day. Now that thesis is finally over, I can rest.

太阳花

“我不会悲伤，就像那太阳花，有天黑才能期待天亮。” —— 郭修彧

Intermonsoon Beauty

 Just as quickly as it came, it was lost in the next spell of rain.

#花开花落至少这一季 #:P

山水有相逢

#1
昨天的会议上，我眼睁睁地看着自己的点子被别人偷去。
分明是我前一晚写进我们组的文档，而且关键词也一模一样。
平时跟我称兄道妹的她，竟然厚颜无耻地这么做。
枉我当她是朋友，以为自从上次那件事之后会真心悔改。
枉我如此信任她，在共同朋友前帮她截住关于她的流言。
全程我一语不发，只是狠狠地瞪她。

我在考虑要不要当众揭发她，还是私下跟她谈。
最后我什么都没做。
仔细一想，她频频开口献议，无非是想搏出位。
利用肮脏手段踩人上位，总有一天会有报应的。
我相信上天，相信因果，相信时间会证明一切。
她既然种下这样的因，看她他日收什么果。

#2
朋友说我变了，变得“活泼”、变“坏”、变得毒舌云云。
人是会变的，要不然可以拿去博物馆当标本，而且不用防腐呢！
我倒是觉得我没怎么变，只是展现我的另一面罢了。

自从升上大学以来，我都三缄其口。
别人再无赖都好，我还是让他们有台阶下，山水有相逢嘛。
我也没在他们背后数落他们。
毕竟，人际关系如斯复杂，牵一发而动全身。
我很清楚我一说谁的不是，到头来那人肯定知道。
就算听朋友八卦也好，我点头笑笑就走人。

朋友之所以说我变了，是因为我出声捍卫自己。
凡人都不想看到自己的人权被践踏。
有时候有些人说话过分，我还嘴，并非毒舌。
有时候有些人喜欢吹水，我奉陪，只是玩玩罢了。
有时候有些人紧张过度，我开玩笑纾解紧张气氛。
见人说人话，见鬼说鬼话咯。
不在沉默中爆发，就在沉默中灭亡。

Some Reviews

Note: Currently I'm swamped with various assignments, the biggest being writing my thesis. I have just completed a first draft of a minor (to me, at least) assignment, and since it's a long weekend due to Hari Raya Aidiladha (but a working holiday for me T.T), I thought I'd take a break from academic writings by giving some reviews on the films and dramas I have watched earlier. The selection of works below is biased in the sense that I haven't included everything I have watched (cue: lousy ones excluded), so you can see it as my list of recommendations. 

Empress Ki: What I remember the most from this Korean historical drama are the main characters' facial expressions. From the sharp, penetrating gaze of Empress Ki to Wang-yu's furrowed brows to Ta-hwan's smiles - the actors have really put in their best into making the characters convincing. The script isn't too bad either, what with several plot and sub-plots running simultaneously then converging nicely. The drama has a certain depth to it, where the scriptwriters perfectly captured what it was like to survive in politically and socially turbulent times. It wasn't just I-outsmart-you and you-beat-me-back, or good/bad people are always good/bad. The plots and counter-plots were analysed from multiple angles: physical, mental, psychological and social variables were considered. Recommended for long holidays when you don't mind taking on history and pseudo-history.

It's OK, It's Love: This was the first Korean drama with a psychology/psychiatry theme that I have come across. It was backed up with mostly relevant research and practice in the field of psychiatry (I actually know all of the psychological jargons they threw in), save for the "truth serum" which I think would be more at home in Harry Potter's world. Anyway, I like it that the scriptwriter chose to explore unconventional love stories. The main leads took a measured and rational approach to love and at the same time, they tried to confront their psychological disorders. The middle part of the drama was bogged down by boring details and frankly, I was ready to give up on the drama. The pace suddenly picked up again and things got more intense until the touching denouement appeared. I think the second-last episode would have made a perfect ending to the drama, but of course, knowing the mainstream audience love to see all loose ends tied up, the last episode did exactly that. Recommended for days when the weather (or life) is so bad that you feel like doing nothing but curling up with something cosy to watch.

Ilo Ilo: Who could've known that a housekeeper would turn a boy's life around? This Singapore-made film narrates the story of a typical middle-income Asian Chinese family trying to stay afloat financially in times of economic hardship. I like that the director/scriptwriter left little clues here and there. Rather than explaining everything sequentially, he cleverly used the clues to intrigue the audience and keep them watching to find out the clues finally fit together. The cinematography was superb as well - I was somehow reminded of French and American indie films. For instance, some scenes were captured without any human conversation but still could invoke meaning and evoke emotions in the audience. The ending was done with a nice touch: a microcosm of life, a perfect contrast of emotions and a very apt song (Kahapon at Pag-ibig by ASIN). Recommended for rainy days or whenever you feel a bit nostalgic.

About Time: This romantic-comedy/drama started off with a young man learning about his inherited abilities to travel back in time. Although time-travelling was the backbone of the story, the film didn't dwell too much on it and focused instead on love (both romantic and familial). Is there such a thing as love at first sight? Are you looking for your other half, the destined one? Or maybe love happens by chance? What I like about this film is its unpretentiousness and lessons, its more down-to-earth take on love. I literally had a wide grin when I heard the familiar strains of "How Long Will I Love You". The film painted life in both its ugliness and beauty, besides going beyond the typical "happily ever after" ending to depict marriage and family. Actions have consequences, the film tells us, and sometimes in spite of making the best decision, life has a way of forcing things upon us. Recommended to watch during family get-together and a re-watch on your own when you can laugh and cry again, all you want.

The Lunchbox: The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and the way to his mind? Through old-fashioned, handwritten correspondence! The film has given almost no clue as to when the story is set - no Internet, no WiFi, no mobile phones - which makes it rather timeless. Another way of seeing it is that the Indian community which it represents has slow technological advances and technology is a privilege unavailable to many in India. The film lightly touched upon a few social issues but its main selling point is, I think, serendipity. Through a fortunate mistake in the lunchbox delivery system, Ila and Saajan got to know each other and corresponded through letters. Ila wrote of her suspicions about her husband's infidelity, while Saajan imparted advices like a wise old man. Although they have yet to meet one another, they know enough about each other to care for the other party. Do look out for the little stories that dotted the film: they're entire worlds themselves. The film ended with a cliffhanger - will Ila and Saajan finally meet?  Depends on serendipity. Recommended for those who would love to take a break from their usual staple of films and dramas.

How to Train Your Dragon 2: If you like the first one, this sequel is a must-watch. Not only it expanded on the world of dragons introduced earlier, it also broke more stereotypes (which seems to be a habit of Pixar). Who says a mother couldn't be adventurous? Who says only a mother would die for her young? Who says size matters? The stunning landscapes, fitting music score and heartfelt dialogues would surely make you yearn for more. Hopefully, the coming third installment will outdo its predecessors.

Twelve Years A Slave: The film is based on a first-hand account of real-life slavery experiences in the 19th century. Vivid and explicit depictions of inhumane treatment, as well as deep psychological trauma that such experiences cut into the soul, were scattered throughout the film. If anything, this film serves as a reminder of the unimaginable horrors that humans can - and still do - inflict on one another. The loss of privacy, identity, freedom, family and above all, life were endured by the enslaved characters in the film. Humans treated as properties, machines and playthings - can you wrap your head around that? Although slavery has been outlawed in most countries, human trafficking is still a very real and pervasive issue. What are you going to do about it?

Belle: In the olden days, if a woman aspired to "rise above her station", she would be advised to marry into a good family (preferably rich and high-status) with a hefty dowry. Otherwise, she might have to live out her days being an "old spinster" or "that weird unmarried aunt". True love was impractical and rare. Such were the issues faced by Dido, a mixed-race, illegitimate child who was entrusted to the care of Lord William Murray. Inspired by a painting and centred on slavery, this film complements "Twelve Years A Slave" rather well and presents the other end of slavery (the lawmakers' perspective). I quite like the clever use of the phrase "let justice be done though the heavens fall". If you like period drama, this is a downright sumptuous visual feast for you. The only complaint I could find was the rather out-of-place kiss at the end of the film, which I think is an unnecessary imposition of modern values on people from another era.

Can We Auto-Correct Humanity?

I came across this poem by Prince Ea yesterday and as I watched him rapping it out, there were chills coming down my spine, which to me means it's an excellent piece of work. So here it is, the video and a transcript of the poem. Hope you'll be inspired as I did:

Did you know the average person spends 4 years of his life looking down at his cell phone?
Kind of ironic, ain't it?
How these touch-screens can make us lose touch
But it's no wonder in a world filled with
iMac’s, iPads and iPhones
So many "i"’s, so many selfies, not enough "us"'s and "we"’s
See
Technology has made us more selfish and separate than ever
Cause while it claims to connect us, connection has gotten no better
And let me express first
Mr Zuckerberg, not to be rude but you should re-classify Facebook to what it is:
An anti-social network
Cause while we may have big friend lists
So many of us are friendless, all alone
Cause friendships are more broken than the screens on our very phones
We sit at home on our computers measuring self-worth by numbers of followers and Likes
Ignoring those who actually love us
It seems we’d rather write an angry post
Than talk to someone who might actually hug us
Am I bugging? You tell me...
Cause I asked a friend the other day let's meet up face-to-face
They said alright, what time you wanna Skype?
I responded with omg, srs, and then a bunch of smh's
And realized what about me?
Do I not have the patience to have conversation without abbreviation?
This is the generation of media over-stimulation
Chats have been reduced to snaps
The news is 140 characters
Videos are 6 seconds at high speed
And you wonder why ADD is on the rise faster than 4G LTE
But, get a load of this
Studies show the attention span of the average adult today
Is one second lower than that of a gold fish

So if, you're one of the few people or aquatic animals that have yet to click off or close this video, congratulations
Let me finish by saying you do have a choice, yes
But this one my friends we cannot Auto-Correct - we must do it ourselves
Take control or be controlled,
Make a decision
Me?
No longer do I want to spoil a precious moment by recording it with a phone
I'm just gonna keep them
I don’t wanna take a picture of all my meals anymore - I 'm just gonna eat them
I don't want the new app, the new software, or the new update
AndiIf I wanna post an old photo, who says I have to wait until Thursday
I'm so tired of performing in the pageantry of vanity
And conforming to this accepted form of digital insanity
Call me crazy but, I imagine a world where we smile when we have low batteries
Cause that will mean we'll be one bar closer - to humanity

Safe

I had a better look at the two paintings. They were not paintings, but photographs of Italian town buildings. They captured the idyllic country life quite vividly, and I could almost feel the sun on my skin and the breeze through my hair, if it weren't for the slight needle sting on my right arm. This second blood sample was a crucial one: if the platelet count is found higher than the one on Saturday, then it means I'm getting better. The doctor said, with a smile, that further blood tests will be conducted until there are signs that my platelet count is rising. Sounds sadistic. 

The call came around noon. I was told that my platelet count increased by three points and that I should drink lots of water and rest more. I'm safe. Phew.

Dengue

I chose to look at the set of colourful paintings that adorned the otherwise drab room, rather than at my blood being drawn out of me. When it was done, the doctor assured me that he would get back to me soon with the results of the blood test. While he was mumbling on (he was even more soft-spoken than me!), I stole a quick glance at the vial of my blood sample. I didn't imagine my blood to be in such a shade of deep, dark red, like wine but much thicker. I had feared this moment since I watched over my youngest sister and my mother who had dengue fever, one after the other, earlier this year. Well, I feared blood extraction too, since I was young, but that would be a lesser fear now that I had my first experience.

On Tuesday I had high fever and little appetite. My body was like a burning ball of flame - everything else was cool to my touch. I breathed out hot air like some dragon. My stomach was throwing tantrums and the back of my eyelids were warm against my eyeballs. I craved water very much, but the thirst wouldn't subside no matter how much water I consumed. I took one gram of paracetamol (what you'd call "Panadol") after dinner and went to bed, waking up about an hour later in sweat but without fever.

With fever kept at bay, I went for lecture and conducted my experiment as planned on Wednesday (luckily I had the foresight to prepare the materials on Monday night). I took mental notes of my body condition, of course. I kept feeling a throbbing pain in my left ear, in that part where scientists call "lobule". I was unnaturally tired, though at that time it didn't look out of the ordinary (I was recuperating, I thought to myself). I was constantly thirsty and all dried up inside. My throat was as though on fire. My stomach went docile and didn't bother me much. Around evening, I had mild fever and was fatigued. Again, I took paracetamol and went to sleep after dinner.

Thursday morning found me highly alert and fever-less. I even managed to proofread a junior's thesis proposal and had a very long chat with him about his research. I still had the unquenchable thirst and the throbbing pain in my left lobule. I had no desire for food. I was only waiting for the day to end, so that my long weekend could begin and I could finally rest. I continued taking paracetamol, keeping in mind not to cross the dosage limit.

Yesterday was the worst I'd felt in years, probably. I woke up groggy and disoriented, craving for more sleep even though I had my fill. I managed to drag myself out of bed, after some effort, only to fall asleep on the sofa when I got to the living room. Horizontal surfaces seemed attractive to me all of a sudden, and lying down jumped to the top of my to-do list for the day. In my state of lethargy, I hung out a load of laundry to dry and later, fetched my youngest sister to tuition. It was a wonder I didn't crash the car or faint somewhere.

Last night I went to a nearby clinic to see a doctor and was told to wait for 20 minutes. I waited for 40 minutes before the doctor came back from his dinner and it became my turn to see him. I made a quick summary of my case, giving him the timeline and symptoms I had. He prescribed me some antibiotics and paracetamol, telling me to come back first thing the next morning to have a blood test. 

This morning I had to wait for a long time too, as there was a long queue before me. After giving the blood sample and paying for the test, I was barely able to move my right hand without feeling a sharp pain. I drove home using my left hand to steer the wheel, most of the time. To change gears I momentarily let my right hand take over the steering wheel. Driving "one-handed" does have its uses, especially in situations like this. 

After about an hour, the doctor personally called me to deliver the news. My platelet count was low, but not too low that would require immediate hospitalisation (as in my mum's case). He said I had dengue fever, asked me to continue taking the prescribed medication and to see him on Monday morning. I think what I felt after the phone call was relief. Relieved that it wasn't my fault, but some damned mosquitoes. Relieved that I finally can make my dad re-consider the stagnant water of a "fish pond" he had built in the front yard. 

I'm not too worried about getting well - I have medicine, and my mum's pulling out all the stops by trying home remedies. Isotonic drink, papaya leaf juice, double-boiled bitter gourd with frogs. No, I'm in good hands. It's just that I feel irritable and sometimes - there are no other words for it - shitty.

Don't

"Hi I'm Chris." 

I peeled my eyes off the screen at my computer workstation and looked up into a face which, to my slight puzzlement, was somehow familiar. Wasn't he a coursemate from last year? But why would he re-introduce himself and use a different name? 

I gave my name in the spirit of reciprocity and took a closer look at the guy who called himself Chris. His facial features resembled somebody I knew, but those blueish/greenish dental braces that showed when he smiled were unfamiliar. He was casually dressed in a smart way, wearing a backpack on both shoulders (not slung over one). Must be someone new, I thought, the style is rather adolescent-ish.

He repeated my name, turning it over his tongue delicately as if tasting it. Gesturing to the computer next to the one I was using in the library, he asked, "If I want to use a computer, do I just turn it on? Or ..." His voice trailed off and I swear he was scanning the open document on my screen, perhaps looking for information about me. Ah, sly. I reasoned that he must be a freshman, based on the the orientation itinerary I saw pasted near the elevator buttons at ground floor. Strange that orientation day was on today rather than before the semester started last Monday, as was the tradition, but I digress.

I turned slightly and hooked a thumb over my shoulder, pointing towards the counter. "You'll have to register first over there." Chris slunk away without another word in the opposite direction. Perhaps he sensed my discomfort, or he thought he was intruding on whatever I had been doing before he interrupted me. Truth to be told, I had been staring at my screen blankly for some time and contemplating what I should do next. I had mistaken tomorrow's class for today (what an elementary blunder!) and I had nothing to do, nowhere to go. That "familiar stranger" (he must somehow be related to that person I knew from last year) made my decision for me. I packed my things and fled from the library.

It's the second week of my last semester here. The place had been devoid of people and unbearably quiet for the past few months. Probably most students had transferred overseas and maybe the past few intakes had shrunk. The sky was still overcast when I hurried over to the bus stop, where a small group of students were standing waiting for the next shuttle bus. I ran the encounter with Chris over in my head again and thought that I had been rather unkind to him. I didn't reciprocate his smile and barely maintained eye contact with him. What if he is my junior? What if I meet him again? What if he participates in my study later in the semester?

Then again, I don't intend to initiate new friendships with graduation looming in sight. The existing ones are enough. I just want to finish this last leg of the journey quietly, without fuss, and the last thing I need is painful goodbyes. I'm all too familiar with separation and the feeling of "oh-if-only-we-got-to-know-each-other-earlier". It is bad enough to be on the receiving end of that feeling and I don't want to be on the giving end, right now.

I plugged my headphones in and played a random song. Out of the tail of my eye, I saw Chris approaching from a far distance. When I looked again, properly this time, he was nowhere in sight.

转捩点

看不见下一个转捩点，我唯有放下过去、把握当下，继续前行。

I Can Hear Your Voice

[ Spoiler Alert: If you have yet to watch the drama mentioned in the following review, please proceed at your own risk :P ]

The series is a combination of courtroom drama and romantic comedy with elements of fantasy. After overcoming poverty and a difficult childhood, Jang Hye-sung becomes a lawyer, specifically a public defender, but she is pragmatic, self-preserving and jaded. Her life changes when she encounters Park Soo-ha, a high school boy with the supernatural ability to read other people's thoughts by looking into their eyes, and cop-turned-lawyer Cha Gwan-woo who is cheerful and idealistic, though a bit of a dork. Soo-ha gained his mind-reading ability after witnessing his father getting murdered ten years ago. His father's death had initially been dismissed as a car accident until Hye-sung, then a high school girl, gave decisive testimony in court despite the killer's threats, and Soo-ha has been searching for her ever since. As Hye-sung works with Soo-ha and Gwan-woo, she gradually lets go of her pursuit of money and glory. Together, this unlikely team use unconventional methods on their cases, proving that while sometimes justice is blind to a fault, she can still hear your voice. — Wikipedia

This is one of the rare Korean dramas that combine good writing and strong acting. What appeared to be boring first few episodes actually build a firm foundation on which the story later develops beautifully. It has a "tight" plot in which the details are laid out piece by piece, and later linked into a coherent picture. Some parts of the story are really predictable, others less so. What caught me by surprise was Soo-ha's desire to protect Hye-sung blossomed into love and then that love was reciprocated! Another unexpected one was Soo-ha actually lost his memory (retrograde amnesia). The case of the twin offenders was an excellent appetiser on motivation behind revenge. This was then followed up with the knotty relationship between Soo-ha, Hye-sung and the murderer of their parents.

There were, of course, some questions that plagued me as I watched the drama. Why did the same judges, public prosecutors and public defendants appear every time? Couldn't Hye-sung have contacted Soo-ha using his other newly bought cell phone? (And by the way, where did that other cell phone went? Missing? Resold?) Why did Soo-ha write so few diary entries for the past decade or so? In light of how tight the plot is and the pace of the story, however, these questions are quite redundant.

The lawsuits and cases presented in the drama were quite unorthodox, possibly chosen to illustrate just how complex law is - how do you interpret it? Even defining justice is difficult - do you follow the letter of the law or capture the spirit of the law? Try as you might to be wholly objective, inevitably you would want to see not just the rational side of the case but the emotional side as well. Being too objective might make you miss some key factors while you're considering the case at hand, whereas being too emotional might make you over-identify with your clients and plunge you into mistakes. A balance between the two is ideally sought (this much was conveyed in the drama).

The drama is laden with two major themes of resilience and forgiveness. In psychology, resilience refers to our innate ability to use everyday strengths to surmount life challenges such as natural disasters, catastrophes, family dysfunctions and personal crises. The fact that Soo-ha has turned out well in spite of the tragic loss of his parents, isolation and loneliness is a prime example of resilience. Forgiveness could be defined as a cancelling of debt incurred by another person (the offender) even though he or she does not deserve it. To truly forgive, you not only look past the offences but also relinquish your desires of retribution or revenge. Our main characters Hye-sung and Soo-ha were tested on this front many times and Hye-sung repeatedly stressed to Soo-ha the importance of not succumbing to the motivation to avenge, mirroring the last words imparted by Hye-sung's mother:

An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth - if we live by that, then there will be no one left in this world. People who treated you badly did so out of jealousy and envy of your good fortune. Don't hate them; instead, pity them, feel sorry for them.

Parenting could be a sub-theme of the drama. What kind of family you were born into does not matter as much as parenting. Although Hye-sung was raised by a single parent and given much "tough love", her mother believed in her and brought her up well. Contrast that with Hye-sung's long-time rival Do-yeon whose foster parents did not cater to her spiritual/moral development. Although Do-yeon was well-educated, fairly rich and had a stable career, she often made morally ambiguous or even downright morally wrong decisions.

I like the flow of the drama: each part segued neatly to the next. The emotions invoked by the scenes were not overdone and there were appropriate pauses in between for the audience to "recover". The reminiscences about Soo-ha's childhood were admittedly touching to the point of inducing tears. Other flashbacks were more intrusive, like the scene where Hye-sung's mother gave her last advice was repeated too many times in too short a period.

In terms of character development, the main leads were complex enough with many-layered personality (even the villain is not really a villain by choice). Hye-sung grew from a cheerful, reckless and lazy lawyer into a creative, self-sufficient and responsible public defendant. She became more interested and invested in social justice. Soo-ha was originally lonely and had this mask of careless indifference towards other people, but when he found the noona who testified at the trial of his father's murderer, Soo-ha's purpose in life became protecting his saviour from harm. Soo-ha learned to be honest and accountable for his own actions, telling Hye-sung truths even though they were painful.

It is notable that the drama was extended by two episodes. The original ending at the end of episode 16 was too abrupt. I think it may have something to do with people not being receptive to the idea of the main leads with such a large age gap actually fell in love and cared for each other. The additional episodes better explained, in a rather Sherlockian manner (I refer to the recent BBC version, of course), what happened to the kidnapping of Hye-sung. Nonetheless, Hye-sung worried that some day she would part with Soo-Ha. Maybe the writer still tried not to put an optimistic, happily-ever-after ending to a "socially taboo" love.

Some stray observations:

• Public transport was very much used in the drama, portraying the life of middle- to lower-income Koreans. This was rarely found in other mainstream Korean dramas (I couldn't speak for indie ones), which normally would include expensive garments, fancy cars and exotic locales. The fanciest place in "I Can Hear Your Voice" would probably be the cafe. 
• Symmetry could be found throughout the drama. Take for example the discussion on revenge/forgiveness: the murderer's story was contrasted with Soo-ha's. Another example would be Hye-sung and Soo-ha wearing clothes (at home) that often complemented each other in terms of colour and style. 
• The scene where Soo-ha fell into Hye-sung's lap on the bus was just extremely odd. As weird as the scene in "The Heirs" where the character Young-do was told to put his phone away and his eyebrows down. Both scenes did not match the mood or the flow of the dramas.

p.s. Recently I started using Goodreads to keep track of the books I read. There's this function of scoring system, a 5 star scale that can be used to rate how good a particular book is. People have different criteria for scoring of course, but for me, 5 stars means "it's so good that it is worth a re-read".

p.p.s. "I Can Hear Your Voice" is definitely worth 5 stars. 

层层叠叠

点了你最爱的千层蛋糕，向在另一个时空共创回忆的我们，致敬。

 

 

世界这么大

世界这么大，遇见要珍惜。

In Memoriam Pn Rossidah

The semester started with us students, lecturers and departmental staff mourning the loss of our head of department. During the first week, before each class commenced, we would stand for a moment of silence to remember him. Generally the lecturers spoke something good about the deceased, but I remember one particular lecturer who offered an unusual way of remembering our dearly departed. Grief and its expression aside, what positive things could we recall of the dead? What have we learned from him/her? Were there any happy moments that we shared with him/her? If yes, how were they like?

I never expected that my semester would similarly end like the last one did with deaths of the people I knew. On Friday I just finished my last paper and started my semester break when I received news that the teacher who taught me Malay while I was in Form Three passed away. My immediate response was to check the main social media platforms on which I knew my juniors would post the sad news. I kept refreshing my feeds. In the end the reality sunk in and I felt - still feel - a heaviness in my chest.

On Friday night I was supposed to have dinner with my video assignment group members, a small party thrown as a token of appreciation to some friends outside the department who helped us in the process of producing the video. I thought of conjuring some excuse and skipping that gathering, but in the end I steeled myself to show up. 

Being one of the earliest to arrive, I sat at the far end of our table even though a couple of friends offered to swap seats with me so that I wouldn't be left out of the merriment. Hanging out with a large group inevitably means that people will break into and interact in smaller cliques. In my case I was listening more than I was speaking to three friends. I was keenly aware that throughout the dinner, somebody from the other end of the table would turn their gaze on me, just to check whether I was happy. So I obliged - joining in the conversation here and there, putting on a smile from time to time. I took care not to overdo it, of course, lest they feel guilty for me being at the corner forcing laughter faking smiles.

I was tending to my thoughts regarding my late Malay teacher the entire time. I was - am still - shocked at her sudden passing and felt a sharp jab to my nose as I thought she won't be celebrating Hari Raya with her family. I thought about her children, who were still young when I graduated from high school. I reminisced, thinking about the times when she would unlock that small gate connecting our high school to the neighbouring primary school, allow her children through and wave at them as they repeatedly said their goodbyes to her. I've witnessed this scene many times before and what struck me the most was the same kind, motherly smile she would give her children. That genuine smile that would sometimes, if you were lucky enough, find its way into her classrooms.

She was such a sassy teacher - till now I could remember how funny she was when she was in the mood. Like when she saw two students sharing a chair, she'd advise them not to do so, otherwise their buttocks would be lopsided ("punggung senget sebelah"). She was a diehard fan of Malay singer Siti Nurhaliza, often praising the loveliness of her songs and claiming to be a Siti Nurhaliza wannabe. I think I learned quite a lot of Malay words and phrases through her eccentric teaching. Once she asked me to demonstrate to the class how to "melentik" (as if I knew the definition of every Malay word). Another time she declared that scorched rice stuck to the bottom of a rice cooker tasted nice ("kerak nasi sedap").

There were times when her humour left her, of course, like the rest of us mortals. When she got into a rage and unleashed her volley of angry comments, I would be very pissed at her and at the same time I couldn't help but admire her use of Malay language. It's as though she found a way to tame the language like a pet and trick it into doing her bidding. Anything she said had the capacity to hurt but were beautifully constructed in terms of grammar. Her choice of words, even when scolding a student, was an indirect, impromptu Malay language lesson (though not the most pleasant one).

When she was serious, she'd talk to you in a softer tone. After she drilled into you what she thought was serious matter and deemed that you'd taken in the lesson, her tone went back up and she'd crack some joke to smooth out the earlier seriousness. I still remember and hold to one of her advices: Don't fall into the vicious cycle of chasing after new technology. She saw students kept changing their mobile phones so she challenged the practice of switching new phones every few months, saying that it is an utter waste of money as there will always be newer, better and faster phones that one will just get addicted to this bad habit of "upgrading" phones. (For the record, I only switched to a smartphone last year after my old feature phone's battery died out on me.)

I will always remember this awesome and spirited teacher, for her sass, her sarcasm and her guidance in matters pertaining to not only language but also life itself. It is really unfortunate to lose her days before Hari Raya Aidilfitri. May she be returned to God. Salam takziah to her family.