the rains

It's been raining tropical thunderstorms every evening.My favourite time when the air is fresh and free of haze except for the infamous traffic crawl and flooding.Couldn't life be just simple with my plants growing well in the wet weather and me curled up viewing indie movies and reading "The girl who kicked the hornet's nest."I've  just finished reading "radio Shangri La" and an autobiography of a Tibetan activist.A slow life at snail pace that's all I ask and I would love to retreat to the rural countryside of Kalumpang or Frasers where I can garden to my heart's delight and write a novella.A simple ,quiet life far from the maddening crowd.
Bliss.


I've just viewed two director's indie movie that  has been enriched by cross cultural adaptations of cinematography and style of narration."The Lunchbox" an indie movie by Ritesh batra starring Irrfan Khan  and Nirmat Kaur was a rom comedy with a streak of realim of people living lives of quiet desperation-women trapped in loneliness of loveless marriages or elderly women fulfilling their marital duties after that spark of love has vanished .I like the particularly  local context of the dabawalla system ,the way Indian life revolves around the paneer and roti and that love is  expressed not so much in words as in deeds.The heart wrenching scene is very eloquently still and quiet when the main character Saajan looks longingly at the warm scene of a family with children and parents enjoying a scrumptious dinner.Unlike Bollywood movies that go for a song and a dance too long and the archetypal gangster and in law,this movie is realistically directed.Despite the difference in culture ,the emotions and scenario are universal themes.It reminded one of the miscommunication in the Hollywood movies of You've got mail or Sleepless in Seattle.I'm so looking forward to his next movie 'The sense of an Ending" which I've just read.

The other movie by a Taiwanese director called the Assassin was so different from the usual flying swordsfighter martial genre.Again I 'm impressed by the Western style of cinematography of black and white versus the stunning landscape .The emotion is muted and understated instead of the usual melodramatic plot,the sense of betrayal and conflicted emotions between love and duty resonates throughout.It reminds me of Terence Mallick "The tree" in terms of using the setting to showcase what is not openly expressed between the characters.

The only thing is that there are so few who can appreciate the subtle indie movies so that I could view our local indie movies by Hu yao Gang and the other on Moving house in which the practice of transporting the whole house by gotong royong is seen.Our locals win accolades abroad but is not recognised by mainstream audience cause they don't play by the rules of blockbusters.

That which all students dread-Exams

Exams aren't all that bad-it's not the be all end all of life.Now Life- that's another story that will test you again and again at the most unexpected time and place.Well, at least one good thing about exams is it's all up to you-to prepare for it or not but in  life there are some things or events which are out of your hands.

You think the HSC was hard? Try being an adult!

Date

November 3, 2015 - 9:00PM

• 140 reading now
• Comments 8
•  

Alan Stokes

Columnist

View more articles from Alan Stokes

Follow Alan on Twitter

Now you're on your own, we've jotted down a few handy hints to get you through life.

The strain of sitting your HSC is nothing compared to some of the things life will throw at you. Photo: Wolter Peeters

Well now, our little girl with the fishing spear in your head, that's it then. Fourteen years after we almost lost you, your Higher School Certificate is done.

Enjoy the break while you can. Because there's one little thing we forgot to mention as we mollycoddled you through, paid $200 to fix your cracked iPhone screen, made you breakfast in bed, picked up your wet towels, drove you to and from school, tried to make you be bothered, helped draw up study timetables which you ignored, dropped you at parties, bought you formal dresses and shoes, transferred cash for your takeaways while we slaved at home making you dinner, ironed those rotten pleated skirts and picked up your dirty make-up wipes. And did we charge you for the free psychological counselling sessions? No. Not that you ever listened to us.

But here's that one little thing we didn't mention.

If you think the HSC was hard: try adulthood.

Advertisement

Just in case you find that daunting, we've jotted down a few handy hints:

Forgive early and forgive often. Everyone makes a mistake or two hundred. Think about the teenager who's walking along with his five-pronged fishing spear, unsheathed, through the crowd of kids next to the swimming pool at Palm Beach. So the spear pierces your skull. You are three years old. You are going to die. They fly you to hospital. In our minds we make funeral plans. Then ... voila! The X-ray shows the prongs missed your brain by 3 millimetres. You have to make allowances for stupid actions like that teenager's. We chose not to pursue charges against him. We hope you are old enough now to understand why. If there's a pattern of stupid behaviour, of course, all bets are off. Don't take crap from nasty people who refuse to admit or learn from their mistakes.

If someone hits you, they don't like you. And guess what? They certainly don't love you. No excuses. No second chances. No "I have to stay for the sake of the kids". Find help and walk away. Watch out for the danger signs among your friends, too.

Judge others as you would want to be judged. Imagine being blindfolded. Feel the face of the person opposite you. Ask them questions about their life and what they feel. Notice the similarities? Now name the person's skin colour. Nuff said. 

Children are why we're here. If not your children, then nieces and nephews, foster kids, adoption, school students or youngsters overseas desperate for a fair go.

Money does not matter to us. But it matters to people who don't have any. So be generous whenever you can. And that means being happy to pay tax if it means better services for those who need them.

Never think that just because you can do something everyone else should be able to as well. We're born with different skill sets and come from different backgrounds. Respect the differences.

Boredom expands to fill the space. Spend your time learning or helping others instead.

The world has a million places to see and a million people to meet. Don't die without seeing and meeting most of them.

Career choices aren't made at 18 or 21 or even 30. Have a go at as many jobs as you can – and that includes the dirtiest, smelliest ones. The odour of grease trap and septic tank will remind you that we're all the same beneath the veneer of self-importance.  

You have a talent and a passion. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to discover yours.

And above all ...

Start listening to your parents for a change. Especially the next bit: Please come home whenever you can, for as long as you can, because it's where you belong and we'll always need you here.

Such is life ...

astokes@fairfaxmedia.com.au

Read more: http://www.smh.com.au/comment/you-think-the-hsc-was-hard-try-being-an-adult-20151102-gkp2w7.html#ixzz3qUUiHuyw
Follow us: @smh on Twitter | sydneymorningherald on Facebook

Madonna

Funny.I was joking about me being a prima donna when the students heard me thinking it was pre-Madonna when she was known as Louise Ciccone ,the Queen of Pop.
Hardly anything to go goo goo GaGa over.

public security of masses

What appears to be happening is that public security has been severely compromised with slack check up.Ferries sink and the captain and crew are the first to abandon ship.Powder thrown at concerts explode and burn the masses whilst blasts at  depots damage property and lives.What should be the penalty for disregard of human lives as if lives are cheap.

Fly high

Couldn't believe this is happening.Here I am ,soaring at the level of seagulls,am I dreaming? I cling on to the instructor's pack as the wings dipped and then sailed on a pocket of  draft of wind that lifts us higher .Whoosh! the wind whips my cheeks.Blame it on that spur of the moment craziness.Well ,who says only the young are YOLO. Me and my thinning scalp strapped with wings like Icarus reaching for the sun.Yes,Man,that crazy advertisement that says "Grow younger,live the retirement of your dreams"
       The down to earth man that I was rose to that challenge.This  paragliding blew a hole in my budget but you only live once.
      .Wham,the forces unseen gripped the paraglider and with a loud "Bong" ,splat ,help we're heading for some damn durian trees.may day,mayday,I hear my instructor's frantic call .
       Hell,I ain't gonna land up like those two bozos who crashed headlong into a tree. No way, I won't end up as lelaki penyet.
       I feel the warmth of the sun searing my back,the wind rustles through my scalp.Wait!Who's that jerk there urinating on my feet.With a great strength of effort,I muster the last ounce of energy and shake my scalp.The jerk didn't stand a chance. Durian runtuh! Padan muka.Ha .ha I have the last laugh.LOL

a more creative phase

Would this be a time to move on to a more creative phase? I've read of IT experts who turn to short indie producers or lawyers who turn into novelists.


The Chinese ghost festival has a lot of interesting rituals which can give rise to creepy stories but how to turn them into a sci fi thriller that would be the third dimension that Einstein hints at and the parallel universe that is timeless.Like the Philadelphia experiment.After watching Bollywood's movie PK ,I think some thought provoking issues can be raised in a creative way.
For example :     For the people is the clarion call of politics and religions but the basic motivation is still power and money.I would think that the 3 idiots,Peepli Live and PK would probably be produced by the same producers as the style and themes are consistent.

review of Julian Barne's "The Sense of an Ending"

My A level student lent me this short novel to read.I wondered why she was raving about the novel so much that I borrowed it and I was literally hooked.It kept me engrossed in this crisp,precise tale of a coming of age narration of 3 buddies plus a newcomer who seemed so much smarter than the rest.
Oh ,How I love the turn of the phrase,the words which are simple,but evokes sheer emotions that makes me reflect on life and its twists and turn.

"We live in time-It holds us and moulds us-but I've never felt I understood it very well.......And yet it takes only ther smallest pleasure or pain to teach us time's malleability.Some emotions speed it up,others slow it down,occasionally,it seems to go missing-until the eventual point when it really dors go missing,never to return."
'Someone once said that his favourite times in history were when things were collapsing,because that meant something new was being born.To die when something new is being born-even if that something new is our very own self?Because just as all political and historical change sooner or later disappoints,so does adulthood.So does life.Sometimes I think the purpose of life is to reconcile us to its eventual loss by wearing us down,by proving,however long it takes,that life isn't all it's cracked up to be.
The ending was so unexpected that it rips your false veil of normality aside and tears it to shreds,the scars of the past oozes with rotting pus and it makes me cringe to consider that a small seemingly inconsequential moment taken in the heat of passion can have such devastating effect half a century later.i feel the ravages of time on my own body as the aches and pain of bodily disintegration is slowly,stealthily creeping in .So before one becomes a burden to the family or society,like Robin Williams ,I would rather make the pain a shorter one than prolonging the pain to family and society .
The seed planted has now become a strong tree,ready to bloom,flower and bear fruit.My duty is done.Soon it may be time to move on.

Malaysians "All for Food" and "Food for All"

Let's eat as One.


When  you go to "Fatty Crab" (though I've never eaten there except when it was located in New Town State) when I was in school ,the diners queuing up snake down the road are all races ,the Village Park Nasi Lemak is crowded until the five foot way with diners of all races gorging on the all time favourite and Sri Panndi and Kanna Curry house packs a crowd of all races feasting on banana leaf rice.

What has happened to our common ground?

Yo Big Dama

There were whispers that the decomposed body was that of a 58 year old executive who was robbed and murdered.But there were no signs of violent injuries except for the neck that was twisted to one side,snapped . A witness said he saw a man dressed like a WWF wrestler with a black ski mask slipping away to the edge of the forest but as it was quite dim,he thought that his eyes were playing tricks with him.


The 11year old beggar migrated to the city of Haikou following his parents who worked long hours at the construction site before a tragic collapse of the platform they were on left him stranded and alone.It was the kindness of the Dama exercising with rhythmic sway of their hips who took care of him.After they found him sleeping in abandoned shed of the construction store yard,one of them would push a few homemade pau or steamed buns in his grimy fingers.Another would pack some grilled meat for his dinner.

But the best was his favourite Dama ,a 67 year old aunty who went out of the way to carry a tiffin of fragrant roast pork or bits of shredded pickles to give him a hearty dinner every fortnight.

These Damas coloured their hair red,purple or blonde and donned their bright floral skirts whilst gyrating their hips to the latin beat of samba and salsa.Now after some scuffles with the nearby residents of the premium condominiums,a whizz kid had invented the soundless public broadcast system .They each put the big muffs of the earphones on their ears and a portable console that worked on solar energy beamed these sonic waves of pulsating beats and booms straight into their slightly deaf ears.It was a win -win situation for the residents of the high rise condominuims could finally get a good night's rest without the awful racket of booms,beats and bangs disturbing the peaceful dawn.

This whizz kid was formerly the son of a migrant worker who had a lucky break in life when his education was sponsored by a mysterious benefactor to study electronic engineering in Kewedi.He won multiple awards for his innovation in  electronic chip implants in the human boy.The sensors in the implant could be remote controlled by brain waves to activate the weak muscles of stroke patients or those immobilised by accidents.After the town council told him about the frequent loud quarrels and cussing and cursing by the elderly dancers,the throwing of empty cans onto the open park to thwart the noisy antics of ageing aunties,the president of the town council finally approached this whizz kid,Mr.Lin to come up with a technological device that would please both warring factions.

With peace in the park and the bedrooms restored,the war of the ages was averted in an amicable manner.
However,Little  Woon,the homeless vagrant still missed the pulsating,catchy music.

For some days,little Woon hadn't been seen in the compound of the storage site.Some said,he was rounded up and put into a state welfare home or sent back to live with his relatives.

Three weeks later,another body of a 40 year old man was discovered in the back alley of some shops.Word went around that his neck was also twisted in the same way.

There was something about the inaudible music that put the dancers into a trance like mood.Their feet and arms seemed to have a life of their own.The console whispered and suggested to them of youthful strength and misty dreams.Sway and shuffle,twist and twirl -go follow that 40 year old man and twist him round and round.

The Damas had another peculiar vanity to protect their fair skin from the harsh rays of the sun when they went to swim.The black "spider woman" suit protected them from the UV light so that they were not baked to a harsh shade of brown.

To be continued.....


I am dreaming of setting up a Youtube site showcasing the short movies made by ASEAN youths,a platform for their unique creative storytelling in short ,short movies or comics or anime.How can the young understand each other except through the stories that tell about the lives that matter to them.Perhaps some collaboration could be done between the old and the young to be a bridge to close that generation gap.The old supply the stories whilst the young make movies or do graphic stories and animate them.

Heck! How I wish someone could do a graphic novel of my stories-the one about fracking and the aliens or my uninhibited story of the love cripple.

the heat wave

The scorching heat is unbearable.How do people keep themselves cool?

It's so hot that I've given up cooking as the heat from stoves give one a big headache and it's so hot that the only food I can stomach is salad,cold soba,fruit juice and raw cucumber soup or gazpacho.