Sunday, April 26, 2009

What will you defend?

"What you will defend, you will fight for, and what you will fight for, is what truly matters." Duke



Yesterday, on a lazy Saturday afternoon, while having floorball training, I was asked to go back to camp. Yes, recalled and activated.

Did I like it? Well, to be honest, not one bit. Would I have chosen to go back if I did not have to? Probably not. Did I enjoy the experience? Again, to be 100% truthful, no.

It was a very hot afternoon and having to walk long stretches under the sun with a full pack and another bag containing my other accessories was not my idea of an ideal Saturday afternoon relaxation activity. I was drenched in perspiration and the side of my dusty boot cut into my left ankle bone, leaving a bruise. As I said, not my idea of a fun Saturday afternoon.

However, as I thought about it on the long taxi ride back home, I realised and understood that, for all the inconvenience and discomfort, it all made perfect sense.

There is something about putting on the uniform and I felt it while getting ready to report back to camp. As I saw myself in the mirror in camouflage, I felt a flush of pride and a slow trickling down of comfort.

I saw in that image in the mirror what it means to be a citizen. I felt proud that I have been entrusted with the privilege of standing up for something, of being a member of a community that is my home, of being a child of the very land on which I have been born and brought up. I felt Singaporean.

What brought me comfort was the fact that there are many others doing the same thing I was doing at the moment, or had done, or would be doing. We had, for that moment in time, forgotten about our individual stories, our distinct destinies, our diverging lives and our uncommon realities. For that one moment, when we were in camouflage, we were all the same and all standing as one.

That's why I greeted each other person I saw making that long walk into camp with a respectful nod and a sweaty smile. I may not know him, but we knew we were brothers.

If and when the situation does call for it, the person I exchanged glances with for a few seconds might well be the person I go into battle with, the person I might share my last living moments with, the person I might have to entrust my life with. That is why I consider him my brother and vice versa.

As the taxi made its way back east through the ordered lanes on the expressway, I looked at all the faces in the cars passing by or that were passed by. I understood then that going back to camp was an inconvenience that should not only be endured, but celebrated.

It is a reminder that we are doing all we can to make sure that, when the moment calls for it, each face that I saw in those cars on the expressway will have a guardian standing between them and whatever adversary or enemy that might be facing us down.

We fight for what we are willing to defend and what we are willing defend is what truly matters to us. At that moment, I knew what I would fight for those faces in those cars.

Suddenly, all the inconvenience and hassle seemed worthwhile, after all.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Passion is not a crime

"Passion is braving 35 degree heat to do what you love." Duke

Yesterday, I had my second game with the Discovery team.

Lest you think that this posting is about soccer again, let me assure you that it is not, so stick around.

When the match kicked off at three plus yesterday, the thermometer in a friend's car read 35 degrees. It was hot, red hot, white hot, hot. It was so hot that you could see water evaporating, heat waves emanating from the ground, the exposed skin on your body drying up and the grass wilting. It was HOT. Halfway through the first half, my team (mostly made up of guys older than me) was walking around like zombies who had been rejected by the Zombie Association. They were on the pitch physically but they were reduced to walking pace or even stationary mode.

As a goalkeeper, you know it's going to be a bad day when your defenders can only look at you hopefully whenever the attackers charged towards the goal. Three-quarters through the match, I began hallucinating and I began pacing up and down, talking to myself to keep myself rooted in reality. It was HOT.

What's the point, you may ask?

Well, besides the fact that it was HOT, I want to highlight the one thing that kept 26 lobster-red, heavy-breathing, deep-panting men (we had rolling substitutions, which meant that someone would be substituted every five minutes) on the field on an unbearably hot day. That thing is passion.

All of us were passionate about the game and we surely showed it yesterday. That's the power of passion I guess - it is more than pain, difficulties, obstacles and hardships. It keeps one going despite the odds; against all odds, in fact. It's what kept Sir Edmund Hillary on Mount Everest when others gave up. It's what has pushed Paolo Maldini to stay on the field past his 39th birthday. It's what compelled twelve lowly men to stare persecution and death to pass on the Good News to the ends of the earth. The list goes on. It's what has propelled men across the ages to push past the boundaries of impossibility and march into the fields of reality.

That's the beauty of passion, I guess. It is the unshakeable belief that something is worth doing; the undying love for a pursuit or endeavour; the forerunner of the most satisfying enjoyment that is derived from doing what one loves to do.

Passion is not a crime, although I felt that it should be after the final whistle went during my match yesterday. As I lay slumped on the ground, my legs aching, my head throbbing, my body drying up, I really questioned my own sanity. Why in the world did I put myself through that?

And then, the answer came to me, clear as day - passion.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Come on, you Spurs!

"Double the fun, double the Hammers!" Duke

There's gotta be more to life

"Hell is waking up and dreading the day ahead." Duke

I've posted a random picture of my church youths, friends and I at a camp sometime back but the point was to emphasise the fact that life is full of colour, full of people, full of craziness and full of smiles.

Well, at least that's what it is to me.

However, there are many, many people out there who feel that life is dark, bleak, painful and overflowing with sadness. And that's hell.

Yesterday, after floorball training, I had the chance to catch up with one of my team-mates, a post-graduate student at NTU. He is Indonesian and he so happens to be at the EEE faculty that has been in the news lately so I asked him whether he knew that student who attacked his professor before killing himself a few months back.

Well, he did not but it really got me thinking about life and what it means to be alive.

I realised that there are people out here who wake up one morning and realise that their life has become meaningless and that they have reached the end of their tether, that they cannot bear or dare to live on. I guess that is why people start randomly killing others around them, in their schools and neighbourhoods, before killing themselves.

To me, the most troubling aspect of this recent spate of cases in the news is that all these killers have tended to be very young and seemingly with their whole lives ahead of them. It must have taken a really huge blow or a massive series of blows to have made these young men (many of whom are students of one kind or another) feel that they have nothing else to live for and they want to go out, literally, with a dreadful bang.

I understand that it is so much harder to be a student these days. All kinds of commitments, distractions and priorities cry out for their attention these days and the pressure that must build up as a result of constant emphasis on achievement must feel horrible. Thus, there is a need to see things from the right perspective.

Yes, there are so many more demands on students and young people these days, but with these demands, also come great opportunities. I feel no shame to admit that young people these days are so much more capable and intelligent these days than my generation was, but surely that is a result of greater exposure and higher expectations.

At the same time, life is more than just studies and school. This is merely a phase of one's life and, while almost everyone will look back with a smile in the future, young people just need to realise that they will live through this and move on to other things in their lives. The key is just to knuckle down, do their best and try their hardest. That is all that anyone and everyone can ask of them. The second key is to always look to their God-given abilities and believe that they can make something of themselves and make good in their lives, especially when things are not looking too good.

Hope enables you to go through the worst things while hopelessness pushes you to do those things. Life should be filled with hope for, as Nature shows us, even the worst of storms and earthquakes come to an end. We just need to make sure we are there to make a fresh start once the winds die down, the rain ceases, the ground stops trembling and the air is still again.

Life is full of colour, full of people, full of craziness and full of smiles. I would not have it any other way.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Two Four-letter Words that Mean the WORLD





What Good Friday means to me ...
LOVE
What Easter Sunday is to me ...
HOPE
Eyes wide open,
Heart flowing over,
Mouth filling with praise,
Life bubbling with purpose,
All because of what You've done.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Team Work





"Very few things beat roughing it out with a group of team-mates!" Duke

On a much lighter note, I have put up photographs of the teams that I have been a part of over the years.

The moment I left university was the moment I missed being in a team. Throughout my four years in NTU, I was part of the floorball team and many of my fondest, most vivid memories were formed as a result of that involvement. Of course, that was also when I made the national team and fulfilled a childhood dream of representing my nation in something.

In the years following my graduation, I was part of my church soccer team and though we did not have the best of results in the church league, I look back with a smile too. I also play in the National Division Two Floorball league with a team of old university teammates, church friends, youths and friends' friends. We almost suffered relegation last year after two years of finishing comfortably in mid-table, so we have a serious point to prove this year. Ironically, I was in my best form for a long while last year and that made it doubly painful.

Just three weeks ago, the Discovery Channel friends that I play soccer with every Tuesday at the Cage asked me to play for them and we started with a bang - a 5-3 win (though all 3 goals were not my fault, it must be emphasised).

I love being part of a team and I love the adrenaline rush that comes when you take to the field or the court with a group of people you know would watch your back and brave the fires of competition together. The spirit, the camaraderie, the enjoyment, the pain - there's a whole range of emotions that you go through but, best of all, there are so many others going through them with you. The memories that form as a result stay with you for life.

That's why I always tell the boys to savour and enjoy being a part of the soccer team. Very rarely do we find a group of friends who perspire, cry, laugh, cheer, fight, bleed and push on together with you. That is the very essence of a team - individuals thinking as one and doing as one. You won't know what you are missing until it's gone.

Over the years, I have also seen my maturation and growth as a person because of my involvement in team games. I am highly competitive, sometimes far too much, and when I was younger, I only wanted to win because of me and it was not easy to be a team-mate of mine. I demanded extraordinary levels of commitment because I felt that that was what I was giving. I did not really think about the team as I was too pre-occupied with achieving the results I wanted.

Thankfully, I was always good at what I did or I was just fortunate enough to play in a position no one wanted. Yes, no one wants to be a goalkeeper. Everyone wants to score and do the glamorous stuff, not stop balls from flying past you. However, I do enjoy it. Nothing beats a flying save, a reflex save, the look on the forward's face when you thwart his best efforts, defying the odds that are always in the attackers' favour. Some of the looks I have received after keeping a ball out are etched indelibly in my mind's eye and I still smile or snigger when I think about it.

I guess that was why I was always on the team, even though I was really self-centred. There was simply no other goalkeeper, or certainly no one who enjoyed it as much. They needed me, but did not necessarily want me, on the team. I mean, we were all good friends off the field, but on it, I was not easy to live with. It was totally a Jekyl and Hyde thing. Thinking back, I do feel a flush of embarrassment at how childish and immature I must have been.

Over the years, I can safely say that I was wanted and needed too. As you grow older, you tend to be more mellow, less fiery and certainly more others-minded. That is something I am certainly thankful for, and I am sure my current teammates feel the same way.

Eyes Wide Open

"To help, sometimes you have to do what hurts first." Duke

Yesterday, on the way to supper at close to eleven, I came across a group of eight to nine youths, the oldest of whom must have been seventeen at most, drinking and smoking around a stone table in a void deck. The youngest of the lot was a Sec One or Two student still in school uniform, a look of admiration etched on his face as he looked on. What exactly he was admiring, I did not know. Certainly, I saw nothing praiseworthy, not in the slightest.

What I did next took my supper buddies by surprise. I called the police and told them to sort the group out. I was certain that there was underaged drinking and smoking involved, not to mention the possibility of further mischief breaking out once those thugs became intoxicated.

The efficiency of our Police Force was once again evident as the group was gone when I returned to the spot forty-five minutes later. Well done, dudes in blue!

What really got my goat was that there were many other adults around that area at that time but none saw fit to do something about the juvenile delinquency that seems to be getting worse. The group looked like they had been drinking for some time as the bottles were only half-full or less. Surely, this should have been a cause for concern.

It is exactly this nonchalance and lack of civic-mindedness that we need to root out in order to keep our young people safe and to keep our streets that way as well. There have been too many recent cases of punch-drunk teenaged punks getting into fights and altercations, causing grievous hurt to innocent bystanders, for comfort. Cliche though it may sound, we all need to play our part as there will never be enough police officers to go around, efficient though they may be. We need to be their ears and eyes on the ground and that is an indisputable fact.

Certainly, the youths would not have thanked me for what I did last night. However, I did not have a beef with them nor was I doing anything out of malice. It was out of genuine concern. Sometimes, we need to save people from themselves and I was also looking out for the people in that area.

Hamlet was right in saying that sometimes, we do need to be cruel in order to be kind. Last night was just another example of that.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Of fragments

Hey all, just a random posting of the work of my class, as promised. I wrote the introduction and conclusion, but the students wrote all the sentences in-between. Some pretty nice sentences, huh?

The sky grew dark as early as four o’clock. A gigantic, gloomy, dark cloud settled over Tanjong Katong Secondary. Ron and Kang had planned to join their friends for a quick game of soccer, but that plan was dashed when they saw those friends scurrying across the road to catch the bus. At least one of them had the courtesy to turn back and shout, “Sorry, it’s going to rain!” Disappointed but also a little relieved, Ron and Kang picked up their bags and scampered to the bus stop as well. At that point, they met the man.

· The man was a pervert who was just released from a mental hospital and he wanted to chase after them.
· Slowly and menacingly, he approached the boys, like the predator cornering the prey.
· The man offered Ron and Kang drugs but they refused.
· “I will never follow you because I don’t even know you,” Ron said.
· They tried running away, completely out of breath, and led the man on a wild goose chase.

· They ran frantically in fear, under the rain, trying to run away from the man.
· When Ron looked at the man, fear overwhelmed him.
· The warehouse they were lured into was like a dump, probably abandoned for years.
· Kang was punched hard and he was sprawled across the floor.
· The man dragged Ron and Kang to the pillar and chained them there, causing them to scream in terror.
· Not knowing what to do, Ron and Kang exchanged furtive glances.

· Being the most outstanding athlete in school, Ron sprinted madly for the door.
· Ron attempted to escape, but to no avail.
· They tried to escape from the seemingly stone-like arms of the muscular man.
· Ron and Kang made a dash for it and attempted to escape.
· Kang took out his Magnum Desert Eagle, shot Ron and tried to fly away on his helicopter.

· Ron and Kang escaped from the man, who chased furiously.
· To their relief, the man did not manage to keep up.
· They heaved a collective sigh of relief and cried.
· In the blink of an eye, the police surrounded the man and skillfully arrested him.
· Kang and Ron walked into the sunset, hand and hand.

As Ron and Kang struggled to come to terms with what had happened to them, they picked up their dirtied bags from the dusty ground and sighed in relief. They had never expected that their day would take such a horrible turn. As such, they thanked God that they were still relatively unscathed as they hurried home.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Paint it black

"To be human is to care, even when it hurts." Duke

I did not want to write anything but I figured that writing about it and letting it out might make me feel better.

I won't be too specific and I don't want to divulge anything personal, so I will deliberately be vague.

The point I hope to bring across is that yesterday was truly a bad day.

Like the crime reports you read in the newspapers, you always assume this sort of thing happens to someone else and never to you.

But it did. To me.

As I wrote in my tagboard, people always think that teachers won't get affected when something crops up. That is not true - I WAS affected and I am still in a state of shock in some ways.

I just hope that this sort of thing will never happen again.

Any positives to take from this experience? Well, maybe two.

One - mistakes are the best opportunities to learn the most unforgettable life lessons and hopefully YOU will rise from this ... like a phoenix from the ashes and turn the course of your life around. I know I learnt best when I made mistakes and the bigger the mistake, the more impactful the learning. YOU, it doesn't get bigger than this.

Two - despite the pain, I find that it is better to care and get hurt than not to care and miss out on what it means to be human.

So there.