Journal Writing

Yesterday, I encouraged the P6 kids to continue writing journals even though it was their last APEX session. I shared how writing journal entries will eventually help them express their thoughts better as well as improve their command of English. Told them how after much writing, they'll eventually pay attention to the spelling and grammar and how the sentences sound.

I urged them to be reflective. Writing about stuffs makes one think and reflect. For the kids who disliked journal writing sessions (most of the guys, it seems), I told them to be reflective without writing. I urged them to reflect on every action, mistakes. I said how words and bullying may hurt others and by being reflective, hopefully they'll be more mindful in their interactions.

To the kids who wrote well, I reminded them not to throw away their journals. I even volunteered to help safekeep them if needed. I shared how I wished I still had the journals I wrote in the past and wondered how my thought process was like back then to see how much I've grown.

I mentioned that the person they are right now will most probably be the person they'll become 15 years down the road so I again stressed on the importance of being reflective. Build on their strength, identify weaknesses and bad traits and try to minimize them and change for the better.

Life is more than just the PSLE. I told them that I know of individuals who have done well in primary school but do not do as well 15 years down the road as compared to those who've not done as well.

Many was said. A kid raised her hand and told me to extend her an invitation to my wedding - to which I replied, "Insyaallah. Not in the near future though." On hindsight, I smiled on my way back home wishing I had replied, "Insyaallah. Do make dua for me so that I may find that someone in order to make that wedding invitation possible."

It's nice to see the kids happy to see me after 3 months of absence. May they grow up to be nice individuals.

On writing journals

I sat at the back of the class as the journals were returned to the Primary 6 kids.

I noticed each one of them immediately flipping to their latest journal entry and reading through the comments they received. I saw a boy smiling and showing the kids around him the little star-shaped sticker he got. And it reminded me of the time I received 7 stickers a long long time ago. I noticed a couple of the kids stealing glances at me, for I had left comments in their journal. I'll never know the effect of the little comments that I left at the end of their writings but I hope it encourages them to keep writing.

Little gifts had been given the week earlier to 4 kids whom we felt were pretty good writers. A disclaimer was shared with them: The prize winners are only 4 out of many good writers, so keep writing and you'll never know when you might be next. Again, I hope it encourages the good writers to keep writing and the ones who've been writing three-liners join in the fun.

Yes, writing is fun. It's like listening and talking to an imaginary friend in your mind.

Thoughts

Sometimes,
little events,
little little things that people say,
jokingly or not,
mostly jokingly,
but you know I feel about jokingly,
that it often always mean seriously subconsciously,
blurted out unknowingly,
but obviously,
to me.

Most time,
I'm wrong. But who cares?
No one does, coz if they do,
wouldn't they have watched what they say,
or do?

Yeah,
these little things,
make me retreat into my dark little cave and hide for days, weeks;
Sighs,
7 days of not writing usually means,
no thoughts, lots of thoughts,
kept all to myself.

Things are all fine,
and happy,
and dandy,
but for how long,
can one hide behind a facade,
behind one mask,
after another mask,
after another mask,
you get the idea.

Be calm,
prayers,
give good advice,
a pure mind,
a pure heart,
but then we fall,
and hide in our caves,
ashamed,
because we find it so hard to be good,
because we question ourselves,
by asking questions like why try so hard to avoid music,
when many others are not,
coz afterall, there's nothing wrong,
right?

Frankly,
I don't know,
for music, I,
just hate it when it gets stuck in the head,
hate how it distracts me,
how not listening to music for a fair while suddenly,
made me click on one link after another,
and another,
like as though,
I'm in total control,
I'm free,
to do as I please,
but really I'm not,
coz I consistently think about the can, cannot, better not to,
and so on.

And how I miss conversations,
and talking,
and how I fear talking,
all because of the little things,
the little little things that people always say,
or do,
without,
thinking about how,
the other person might feel,
or do,
as a result of what they say,
or do.

I really do.

Thoughts,
they get pretty circular sometimes,
most times in fact,
and when they do,
that's when I know,
I'm ending.

Just an Old Thought ...

This was an article written by me for a school magazine. I've been waiting for 7 months to read it on print. However, since there's no sign whatsoever of the magazine in its entirety being published, I guess the next best thing that I can do is to publish it here on this space of mine. Assignments and meetings are currently keeping stories buried deep within my story box so until the day I can really breathe easy, here's an old thought just for you - whoever you guys are.

Mendaki Club’s Inaugural Collegiate Symposium 2009:

Thoughts and Reflections

I recently attended MENDAKI Club's Inaugural Collegiate Symposium 2009 – where tertiary students come together in the spirit of learning from the sharing of experiences and perspectives by professionals in various fields.

During the symposium, I just can’t help but sense several things. Firstly, we seem to create excuses for ourselves not to succeed – without us even realizing. Could this be due to our construed understanding of takdir (fate) and how we simply choose to be contented with what we have? We also seem to lack the motivation, discipline and courage to push boundaries in order to achieve our desired goals. And some simply love playing the role of conspiracy theorists that have the ability to see (or create) invisible walls that prevent us from reaching our goals. We want to be fighter pilots, Armour officers and one even wanted a Malay Prime Minister, yet we do not bother to fill up the application form because of the “invisible walls” that we see. And when we see the first Malay BG in the SAF, we dismissed it as an act of tokenism, propaganda or one subtly blamed it on the fact that his wife is a Chinese. Perhaps we should start asking ourselves the following: Do we believe that we are really good enough to take on these roles in first place? And if we aren’t, are we doing something about it?

However, one can seek solace judging from the tremendous response to the Symposium, that we do care about our place in the uncertain future. It was really heartening to see fellow Tertiary students wanting to succeed. It’s just that we either feel incapable or are in need for a little guidance. We seem to create obstacles mentally through our self-thoughts – making an initially possible dream seem impossible. We seem to be lacking in self-belief.

Our mentality

It seems to me that many amongst us have the mentality that Malays will never be as good, if not better, than the Chinese and Indians, let alone the international students, even though we do not necessarily believe so. For instance, we feel like doing certain things like taking up leadership roles in schools or signing up to be a Pilot or an Armour officer, but stop short when influenced by what others like our peers and family say. Why stop short of applying just because someone told you that a Malay will never be an Officer of an Armour Brigade? I’ve applied to be a fighter pilot. Passed their medical tests but during the interview stage, my answers to their questions weren’t exactly the smartest of answers. Who would want to recruit someone who’s afraid of doing some collateral damage?

However, instead of a curt “You’re not selected” (that was what they said to the other pilot hopefuls standing in line before me), I was told by the interviewer that I wasn’t ready to be a pilot just yet, and that whenever I’m ready, I’m welcomed to apply again. And perhaps one day, I will. All I am saying is, we should not create excuses whenever we fail to get the things we want. Instead, each time we hit a dead end, we should continue pushing boundaries and not limit our dreams to what others may say.

Role of environment in our development

The environment we live in also seem to play a crucial role in our development. I feel that it’s the littlest things that we see, hear and experience as a child that makes all the difference. Personally, I was told that I wanted to be a grass-cutter when I grow up – just like my dad was. Years later, playing flight simulators made me want to be a pilot. But growing up in an environment where going to ITE seems like the norm and where only one of my many cousins went to University, I kind of believed that my destiny has been written. However, it was my mother’s insistence that I do not join Soccer in Primary 3 and also her insistence that I put Anderson Secondary as my first choice made all the difference. Never had I dreamed of achieving such an aggregate for PSLE, but I’m thankful my mother saw the better of me. Alhamdulillah, I ended up getting my first choice and the friends I made had been instrumental in my development and in the decisions that I needed to make. Having mentors during my JC days and beautiful individuals along the way made planning for my future all the more easier. However, there are others who might not be as lucky as me – like those who feel neglected by parents who are struggling to make ends meet. Or those who feel like they’re losing out to peers who have tuition simply because their parents do not have the means for it.

In addition, kids nowadays might want to be Taufik Batisah and Hady Mirza – the first 2 Singapore Idol - when they grow up. They will also probably see their Abangs (brothers) riding cool sports bike delivering McDonalds and want to follow their footstep. Right now, we may be Taufik, Hady and McDelivery riders but we’re definitely capable of more. It feels as though we’re allowing others to dictate our roles in our society.

I believe it’s time for us to determine for ourselves our own roles in society. Perhaps engineers, doctors, lawyers, businessmen and military leaders out there can make themselves seen and known. That could perhaps give us the chance to see and dream a bigger dream.

Creating a difference

If it’s the littlest things that we see, hear and experience as a child that makes all the difference, then perhaps that is exactly where we should focus to create a difference.

I also strongly feel that more should be done at a younger age. Our younger siblings, neighbours, relatives and in future, our children, should be free from a mentality that only serves to limit their potential. This is where parents, teachers as well as undergraduates can each play a small role in achieving the bigger picture. Parents (not just mothers) should play a more proactive role in encouraging their children to start pushing boundaries and not make them see walls that do not exist. Teachers can also instill a progressive attitude among their Malay students by asking them about their hopes and aspirations and by exposing them to fields like the various engineering fields, law, journalism, and medicine.

Lastly, there are a number among us involved in community outreach programmes such as Alterisk, AAM and the AMP Youth Enrichment Programs. But there are still many of us who might want to help in one way or another but are unaware of the existence of such programmes. If such programmes could come together under one united umbrella, goals and objectives can be achieved and the effect can be felt in a much wider scale.

We are a community that can strive and must. It’s time we band together and work towards a better uncertain future for us, and our family.

Back Home

We left for the hospital as soon as the kids left. We met my mum's sister. She's only a year older looking very weak. She mentioned how healthy-looking my mother was.

"Who asked you to move to Malaysia?" Teased my mother. Her husband looked on - smiling.

"Apa nak buat kalau jodoh kita orang Malaysia," she said weakly with a smile. Her husband added that disease knows no boundaries. If one's fated to fall sick, one will no matter where one is. They spoke and I could see that my sick aunt was glad that my mum dropped by - even if it was just for an hour or so. I guess it's little things like this that makes the difference.

As we're about to leave, we met her eldest son and youngest daughter. Again, it's funny though how warm they are with my mother. Afterall, it has been many years since the last time they visited us in Singapore.

I couldn't even recognize Aimi. I vaguely remember the little girl that came to our place a couple of times nearly a decade ago. And I only found out that she's 4 years younger than me. I found out coz somehow, I managed to speak to her. The me a decade ago would never. I asked her about school, talked about her course and stuffs. I asked her why we never spoke those many years ago when she came to stay over at our place with her mum and elder sister.

"Awak sombong," she said with a smile.

I simply smiled. I guess my introvert nature can easily be misread as arrogance and anti-social. I'm not surprised. I had always been the shy guy and still am I guess. But I'm talking more now though - I need to. Opportunities to talk such as this one comes once in perhaps 10 years so one has got to make every minute count.

We reached Singapore at around half past nine. As soon as we reached my place, we received an SMS from across the Causeway. Kak Bibah asked if we've reached home safely and said that she wanted to let us know that her dad's been warded into the hospital due to heart attack. My mum felt sad. I guess we'll never know what's going to happen next. I prayed for the both of them to recover soon.

Earlier, I received an sms that informed me that my faculty's floorball team didn't make it through to the quarters. I logged on to the Internet to check my examination results. I saw an F in a module that I found doable. But I smiled when I saw an A in Magical Realism. My GPA maintained. Alhamdulillah.

After a day of mixed emotions, I realized that the setbacks that I've experienced are nothing really. I took a deep breath, replanned my timetable and wrote about my trip. There's so many lovely things in life and I find it foolish to feel down because of a minor stumble. I just gotta pick myself up and move on. I've got dreams to make me study hard coz right now, I'm far from good. And not only that, I must study smart too! Insyaallah I will.

The Idiot...

I had written a long piece. We had just reached Malacca. I was finishing up my LAST sentence when my phone automatically restarted. A little over 1000 words vanished in an instant! Countless kilometers/three hours of thoughts!! I felt like an idiot! I felt like throwing my phone away and never write again. The feeling of losing something that I wrote really sucked especially after I gave so much thoughts and emotions into it. argh!

But I told myself that we learn from mistakes. We should immediately assess the situation and see the next best thing that can be done. I took a deep breath and typed away the last thing I remembered - the final line.

I then retraced my steps and typed the main points of what I wrote. It's been a short but lovely trip. A long day and I'm tired. Therefore, I shall reconstruct my first Nokia E63 piece first thing in the morning.

The next morning,

Looking at the scenery along the NS highway, I can't help but think about things. I'm with mum, my aunt and my uncle on an urgent trip to Malacca. It's been a while since I sat in a car up this highway. Many things have changed since then. The Immigration Checkpoints, the roads, the route, the buildings, the view. But then, I realized that perhaps I'm the one who's changed a lot since then.

It definitely feels weird as I'm writing this entry. Firstly, I've never written anything in a moving car before. Secondly, I've never written an entry when my mama's just beside me. She must be thinking I'm typing one heck of an SMS. Thirdly, the driver's not my dad. Fourthly, I'm the only kid in the car. Fifthly, my siblings are not with me. I'm feeling pretty alone and when I'm alone, that's usually when my mind begins to wonder. Perhaps that's how you sometimes feel.

We just had breakfast and conversation revolved around children and their future. It feels weird to be sitting in an adult conversation. And I'm finding myself sitting in an adult conversation pretty often lately.

My aunt shared something she heard from perhaps the radio. She said parents should never have the feeling of expecting something in return from their children. She added that the responsibility of parents is different from that of the children and that parents should be grateful that their children thinks about them. My mum didn't quite agree but she admitted that looking at today's context, perhaps what my aunt said was true.

Like my mum, I didn't quite agree with what my aunt shared. I think it's my responsibility as child to give back whatever I can to my mum - to just make her happy. Thinking about her just isn't enough. But as I looked at the thoughts I'm currently having - school, stress, results, frisbee, floorball, soccer, my future - I realized I haven't been thinking about my mum much lately. And once I've graduated, I'll most probably be shifting my thoughts to work, stress, the one and marriage so hopefully, I'll remember mum as I think about those things.

It strikes me that parents think about their children ALL the time. The things they do, they do it for us. I hope that us children will do the same for our parents, and in future, our own children.

I'm never one who rewrites the same thing twice so the above is only a fraction of my original piece. For some weird reason, I forgot what came before the final line. Really. Perhaps it's a good thing too that my phone restarted - I was starting to write using more of my heart and less of my brain. Here's the final line:

Ive been told by some that my entries have a voice. And if what they say is true, I hope you know I'm talking to you.

If I'm not here....

If I'm not here,

I'm there -

The Spiral Stairwell

- where the boring interesting Litty stuffs dwell

The Magic of Nostalgia

A friend wanted my SimonCowell-esque comment for a short piece of poetry. My first glimpse of it reminded me that despite my love for words, words in the form of poetry isn't exactly my cup of morning tea. But as always, I tried my best to understand. and I kinda understood.

Reading the story behind the poem reminded me of the story behind a "poem" that I wrote quite a while back. It was my first time writing something poetic. But it was also my last coz I feel that writing poetry makes a guy appear.... soft.

After I wrote it, I thought it was nice - it was something I felt, thought hard about, and then scribbled them down in my notebook, lying on my bed, with a pen in my hand, thinking. Reading it again tonight, I still find it nice, calm and poetic but I'm also slightly irritated that the person that wrote this hasn't changed one tiny bit. Haha...the magic of Nostalgia. Could someone just tell him where he could purchase a bottle of courage?

Lying on my bed
A pen in my hand
Thinking

Wondering why she's taking so much of my time
Why she appears in most of my thoughts
My dreams

Of coz this is foolish
These things come and go
I noe

The more i try to not think abt it
The more i want to think abt it

Why i wanna forget abt it i dun noe
Why i wanna keep thinking abt it i dun noe
Actually, maybe i do

Could it be tt i like her?
Could it be tt shes come to be my special someone?
Or could it simply be me?
Am i simply thinking too much?

Should i go up to her and tell her i like her?
What then?
What if she says she likes me?
What then?
What if she says she doesnt feel the same way?
What then?
These are questions to which the answers will never surface..
Unless i make the first move...

The first move
It's ever so hard

How can i tell tt she likes me?
Is it thru the way she dresses?
The colour she wears?
The hints she drops during conversations?

How can i tell tt i like her?
Is it thru wat i wear?
The things i blog abt?
The colours of my stationaries?
The colours on my blog?
How?

Well i guess lying on ur bed
A pen in ur hand
Thinking..

...That should be enuff to tell u tt u like her

Writer's Note: A friend told me to take this poem down cause others who stumble upon this public blog of mine will think that I'm 'soft' and hence, it might kill off any chances of romance that could blossom through my entries coz apparently no girl likes 'soft' guys(Precisely why it was my first and last poetry). Really?

The Transgression of Boundaries

In magical realism the writer confronts reality and tries to untangle it, to discover what is mysterious in things, in life, in human acts. The principle thing is not the creation of imaginary beings or worlds but the discovery of the mysterious relationship between man and his circumstances. In magical realism key events have no logical or psychological explanation.

.....Luis Leal, Magical Realism in Spanish American Literature. Magical Realism. Ed. Zamora and Faris, p. 119-123.

Roh’s conception of magical realism was intrinsically interartistic. In his 1925 essay he asserted that “magical realist” painters created a new kind of imagery whose “special way of intuiting the world …can apply to all the arts, including music”.

(In Magical Realism)....all “seeing” is symbolic, and requires mental operations that literary critics take for granted when we speak about verbal “images.” The relation of consciousness to the visible world is more likely to be the purview of philosophers, and more recently, of psychologists and neurologists, than of literary critics. To apply Roh’s argument to literature, then, we must acknowledge the physical and cultural operations by which the apprehension of material objects (what the eye sees) become literary “images” (what the “mind’s eye” sees).

....Lois Parkinson Zamora, The Visualizing Capacity of Magical Realism: Objects and Expression in the Work of Jorge Luis Borges

May I be able to "see" as they see.

I've been tossing the ideas around for a week now. Scribbles after scribbles, Google searches after Google searches and I'm still unable to write a decent coherent plan. Here goes yet another "plan as I write" piece....

BOUNDARIES, in both the physical and non-physical sense of the word, play a very significant role in The Metamorphosis, Of Love and Other Demons and Amelie. Boundaries that we so often take for granted serve to provoke the reader "to actively interact with the text in order to ascribe meaning to the place where it collapses"(Pentony) and forces us to reexamine the existence of boundaries in our present lives. Here, I shall attempt to discuss the significance of boundaries in Kafka's book The Metamorphosis and Jeunet's film Amelie.

In The Metamorphosis, the first boundary we see are "the four well-known walls"(Kafka 4). Besides giving us a glimpse of how much time he had spent in his room, this physical boundary is significant in the introduction of more abstract boundaries in the text. These walls literally and physically prevents him from coming out and the house is a slightly bigger boundary that keeps the family in. This boundary comes into play as we learn that "standing out clearly on the other side of the street .... was a hospital"(Kafka 24). For some unexplained reason, no one sought medical help for Gregor. Was it because everyone felt that Gregor was no longer human?

We see Kafka's protagonist Gregor caught between two worlds: the animal and the human world. Due to his transformation, Gregor had to "hurl himself ... with all his force" just to liberate himself from the bed (Kafka 9). He had "an animal's voice"(Kafka 20) and his sense of taste gradually changed - he prefer leftovers and spoilt cheese over sweetened milk and white bread. However, he still retains characteristics that are recognizably human. "He felt a great pride that he had been able to provide such a life"(Kafka 34) and when his family had an argument, Gregor hissed in anger that "no one thought about shutting the door and sparing him the sight of this commotion" (Kafka 73). While physically, Gregor was a vermin, he retains the emotions and thoughts that separates us human from animals. The transgression of boundary between the human world and the animal world provokes the question of what makes a human ... human.

As I read on, I began to lose my ability to distinguish the humans from the animals. The fact that his family never sought medical help for Gregor disgusts me far beyond Gregor's transformation. Gregor's family, horrified that Gregor has become an enormous insect, keep him in his bedroom and refuse to interact with him. When Gregor broke out one day and ventured into the living room, his father threw apples to chase him back in. One managed to hit him in the back. Eventually the apple becomes rotten and infected. Gregor's health deteriorated. Despite being treated like an animal, Gregor "remained in this state of empty and peaceful reflection"(Kafka 89) moments before his last breath. He "remembered his family with deep feeling and love"(Kafka 89). Just because one appears human, does it "naturally" make one better than animals?

Traditional boundaries that typically exist in every household appears to be blurred in The Metamorphosis. We learn that Gregor financially supports his parents and younger sister despite them being able of fully supporting themselves. The boundary between a younger sister and her older brother is usually one that is bound with unconditional respect. However we see this boundary transgressed as "the sister now kicked some food very quickly into his room in the morning and at noon"(Kafka 71) and how she "had grown tired of caring for Gregor"(Kafka 73). The transgression of traditional boundaries begs the question of the existence of such boundaries in the first place. Is it the jobs of fathers to go out and work? Is it acceptable not to work despite being able to do so? Should a younger sister respect her elder brother unconditionally?

Through the transgression of boundaries, Kafka might have wanted to alter our perspective on things that we might find not normal. For instance, the way we treat the physically and mentally disabled, the stereotypes we attach to people that are different from us - Muslims, Christians and Jews etc. Perhaps through the use of boundaries, he wanted to put across the point that boundaries are lines drawn by Man and it is something that can be redrawn by Man.

Besides provoking thoughts among readers, boundaries can help create a common ground between the audience and the literature that they read or watch.

In the film Amelie, Jeunet's explores a personal boundary that exist within us - the boundary that makes us either an introvert or an extrovert. His protagonist Amelie is an introvert who enjoys the simple pleasures of life. However, she transgressed the boundary that separates an introvert and an extrovert when she made the first move and eventually getting the guy of her dreams. The boundary between the possible and the impossible is also transgressed when we see Amelie's imaginary friends and her suicidal pet goldfish. The fact that Amelie ended up with the guy of her dreams despite her roundabout way of getting him evokes the question of it's possibility. Having created a common ground through boundaries that already exist in our lives, Jeunet's transgression of those boundaries moves us into doing something that we felt was never possible. By destroying the boundary that separates introverts from the extroverts, Jeunet introduces a new class that one can fall into - one that sets one's own boundaries instead of being bound by boundaries that had been created by others before them. The use of boundaries in Amelie inspires positive change.

Boundaries can either keep us in or keep us out. And there can also exist a world that knows no boundaries. The use of boundaries as seen in The Metamorphosis and Amelie serves only as a guide for us to decide the boundaries that should be created, those that should stay, as well as the ones that needs to go.

The Magic of Dreams

As the exams draw nearer, we begin to understand rather than simply knowing. I wonder why we can only develop this ability now and not weeks earlier. 14 weeks in a semester seems a little too short. But I guess it's the same in other universities, isnt it?

My first and most favourite paper is in 3 days - Introduction to Magical Realism. Posts labelled "Magical Realism" are the ones I wrote to help me recall each texts. They arent the typical conventional post about myself - though it's not surprising if you find me in every piece of writing. In the coming three days, I will be writing posts on "Magical Realism" as part of my preparation for my paper. One might say it's unwise to share one's thoughts for the exam online but what are the odds of all 200 students in class finding me? And if some do end up here, please do share some of your thoughts too in the comments below. Anws, I believe in sharing what I know as only through sharing will you learn. Unwise? Maybe, but that's just me.

I've also been trying to figure out how the comparative essay question will be like. This is a newly added component to the exam so sample questions from past year papers are unavailable. However, one can always make educated guesses, can't they?

Comparative Essays Definition

"Great minds think alike" – this expression underpins the rationale of a comparative essay. In a comparative essay, you are expected to discuss the similarities between or among two or more works. For example, in literature, writers typically address universal themes of the human condition; in the social sciences, academics often find common ground for analysis; ..... In a comparative essay, your professor expects that you will grasp the key concepts in your field of study by examining the works of more than one writer or scholar in an academic discipline.

[http://www.comparative-essay.com/]

So here, I shall identify several common ground among the three texts that I'm focussing on: Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis(TM), Laura Esquivel's Like Water for Chocolate(LWFC) and a small dose of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's Of Love and Other Demons (OLAOD). Firstly, the concept of hybridity - the most obvious of the lot. Secondly, the battle between strong female vs the weak male characters: Grete vs Gregor and his father (TM), Sierva Maria and Martina Laborde vs Ygnacio, Abrenuncio, Father Cayetano Delaura, Father Aquino and the Bishop(OLAOD) and Mama Elena, Tita and Gertrudis vs Pedro and Dr Brown (LWFC). And lastly, the subtle and abstract use of abjects and space in the texts. I prefer to leave the concept of the grotesque unique to TM and the concept of feminism unique to LWFC.

I've briefly written on the grotesque and abjects in "The Magic of Abjects". Hence insyaallah, during the course of the next few days, I plan to write on the following:

1. Is LWFC genuinely 'revolutionary' and feminist or does it support traditional values and gender roles
2. The significance of hybridity and syncretism
3. The significance of abjects and space
4. The significance of food and cooking in LWFC
5. Reasons why female characters are being portrayed in a much stronger light than males

It's a relatively huge task Ive set myself out to do despite being in a battle with monsters with names like Probability and Statistics and Soil Mechanics. But you see, I'm a dreamer - so anything and everything is possible. This is what I meant by "The Magic of Dreams" for it's dreams such as these that give you something to hold on to and work towards. I'm just glad that my dream has helped me to finally turn the mess in my head into something tangible and coherent - and I hope it has helped some of you with the mess in your head too!

Other People's Shoes

"Try to put yourself in his shoes once in a while so that you can have a feel of how he feels." This and others that carry a similar meaning can be detrimental to one's health. Initially he wears the shoes of others to be a more considerate person for one should not do unto others what he does not want others to do unto him. But as time passes, he began to wear their shoes to try and be that person - he tries to anticipate their possible reactions to his possible actions. When he feels that things are very likely to go his way, he'll execute his plans. But when he has the slightest of doubt, things usually remain unmoved. Should he then stop wearing other people's shoes?

Why bother trying when I know what's going to happen? He asks himself after wearing a pair of shoes that isnt his, without realizing that life isnt as predictable as the films he'd seen or the few books he'd read. He wonders if it's time to dream less and think less. He wonders if it's time to stop finding too much pleasure in the simplest of pleasures. But he wonders if this is a positive thing or a dangerous form of escapism - a way of avoiding unpleasant realities and abandoning "big political ideals".

In my previous entry, I shared how a simple pleasure has kept me going day to day. She helps me to avoid falling into the trap where I start to whine and complain about anything and everything. Clearly, this a positive thing. However, after the lengthy conversation tonight, it could also be a dangerous form of escapism. I've become too comfortable in my own little world that I'm starting to fear certain things in the real world. Someone pointed out that this fear of mine could make me remain single all my life. Worse still, a stalker. Now, that's dangerous. Was Amélie a stalker?

Escapism is bad. It becomes a habit. It may be a way of avoiding unpleasant realities but in reality, the unpleasant are usually unavoidable. Perhaps what I need is someone to make my life unpleasant. Get me a Liverpool jersey.

.... [Inserts a new paragraph the next morning]..... While preparing to go to school, a thought flashed pass his mind. He scribbled somewhere the following: "Escapism for ordinary people is bad. But for introverts like Amelie and me, escapism is a good thing. We are escaping from our own introversion by exploring and enjoying life through simple pleasures. It's only a matter of time before I explore and enjoy life beyond its simple pleasures. Look at Amelie - towards the end, after playing her little games, she ended up with the person she wanted to be."

Obsession

If there's one thing I'm obsessed about, it's writing. And I do not even know why.

I went to the library once school ended to print my essay for submission later today. A harmless browse through the 4 pages brought out a pencil and throughout my train ride back home, I was scribbling and cancelling and desperately trying to insert new points and ideas that I felt was fresh and original. I even tweaked the title from "Love at First Sight" to "An Introvert's Love at First Sight". A nice personal touch to the endless hours spent into it.

If you stumbled upon this entry searching for nostalgia in Amelie, do remember to include me in MLA format under "Work Cited".

Retroinspection: Thoughts and Reflections. Marzuki, 7 Oct. 2009. Web. 7 Oct. 2009. .

Wednesday, 330am.

It's finally over.

An Introvert’s Love at First Sight

In Amélie (2001), Jean-Pierre Jeunet uses nostalgia as the foundation for his “feel good” film. The film evokes both a physical and spiritual longing for something from the past through recollections of distant fading memories. This paper will provide a critical analysis of Jeunet’s film by exploring the ways in which he expresses the sense of nostalgia and the significance of these portrayals. The paper will also discuss Jeunet’s particular vision of the world, possible reasons for such a portrayal and some of the broader implications of the film’s “retro” tendencies.

The film is nostalgic on many levels. Firstly, Amelie’s childhood reflects our own. Through young Amelie, we remember finding pleasures from the ordinary – playing with papers, making funny faces on glass panels, arranging dominos just to watch them fall, watching a coin spin on its edge and peeling off dried glue from our little fingers. Also, the death of Amelie’s mother evokes bitter nostalgia from our experience of dealing with the loss of our loved ones. The sight of Amelie’s beloved teddy bear in the garden soon after her mother’s death shows us Amelie’s strength despite her young age – she had realized the need to let go of her beloved mother. This vision of Amelie’s childhood shows us that children are maybe much stronger than we give them credit to be.

Amelie’s experience with nostalgia within the film makes us feel part of the film – with nostalgia acting as a common ground. When she met a blind man playing a black vinyl record, she was reminded of the time she made her own vinyl record using black paint. Nino Quincampoix’s troubled past as a bullied child was disturbing nostalgia, yet significant as it reminds us that who we are today is a product of both good and bad experiences. This helps to reemphasize the realism aspect of the film.

The film also evokes memories of our retro school days. When Collignon told Amelie to look for his ‘elephant mom’, we asked ourselves whether an elephant has a good memory. When we were told how Bretodeau ‘loves picking the hot carcass with his fingers starting with the oysters’, we quietly thought about the link between chicken and oysters. When Felix Lerbier ‘learns there were more links in his brains than the atoms in the universe’, we wondered if this was the case.

Love is perhaps the most crucial touch of nostalgia in the film. Amelie seems to represent the person we were, are or hope to be when it comes to getting our love at first sight. Through her love story, perhaps Jeunet hopes for the introvert among us to realize the need to ‘go and get him, for Pete’s sake’ and not wait for things to happen. Through Dufayel, Jeunet screams to the cowards among us: ‘You can take life’s knock. If you let this chance go by, eventually your heart will become …dry and brittle’. Jeunet’s use of nostalgia manages to strike a chord deep within us and therefore, making us more receptive to his messages in the film. By evoking bitter sweet yet memorable memories of our past, the film leaves us with a feeling, and hence a film, that we never want to forget. Nostalgia has played a highly significant role in the film.

‘In such a dead world, Amelie prefers to dream she’ll earn enough to leave home.’ Jeunet presented the current world as dead and immediately after, introduced us to “Amelie’s world”. Amelie manages to live her dream left home to work in Montmartre at the Two Windmills. We were then introduced to a host of characters: Suzanne the café owner, Hipolito the failed writer, Georgette the tobacconist, and Philomene the air hostess. We were given a brief background of these characters including their likes and dislikes – despite the fact that their superficial stories seems to have no direct consequence on the film.

However, I suggest that they do. Perhaps, Jeunet presented us this particular vision as he wanted us to start caring about the people around us. Having made us “follow” Amelie in her journey through life right from the journey of ‘the sperm …belonging to Raphael Poulain’, Jeunet did not want us to make the mistake of focusing solely on Amelie. It could be his way of reminding us that those around us have stories of their own that are just as interesting as the ones around Amelie. Jeunet might have noticed that we tend to get too caught up with our busy lives that we forget about things like helping people in need– like the blind man whom Amelie helped crossed the road. At the same time, Jeunet portrayal of the world through the eyes of an introvert illustrates to us that the world is dead only if we want it to be. Through Amelie, Jeunet has shown how ‘a dead world’ can be simple, beautiful and meaningful at the same time. All we need to do is to change our view on life and the world will immediately come to life.

The film retro tendencies – successfully achieved primarily through nostalgia with the support of the sepia effects, the soft yellow light, the classical background music, the black and white motion pictures – exude a dreamy and nostalgic feeling that gave us the illusion that Amelie’s world is different from our world and led us into thinking that whatever we see during the film belongs to the past. However, the fact that the film managed to touch our hearts showed that its beauty, simplicity and selfless traits remain valid even in today’s context.

The strength of Jeunet’s Amélie lies in its ability to alter our perception and to entice us to go deep within ourselves with the techniques used and emotions which it evoked. Through nostalgia, the power of imagination and the universal language of love, the film managed to demolish the wall that separates the past and present, the possible and the impossible and, the real and the fantastic. Finally, the film’s retro tendencies brought together Jeunet’s messages in the film as he demonstrated how beautiful life can be if we simply stop for a moment and let our minds roam free.

Works cited

Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain. Dir. Jean-Pierre Jeunet. Perf. Audrey Tautou and Mathieu Kassovitz. DVD. Miramax, 2001.

Worth the time?

Monday, 1255pm.

A beautiful intro. An equally beautiful conclusion. Nicely developed ideas.

Or at least that's how I feel about it. Do you think it's worth the time to put in so much effort into something that others may, or may not, like? Is the thrill and satisfaction from the pain and stress of writing really worth it?

I took this module to challenge myself to write something other than blog entries. And challenge myself was what I did. I'm of the view that knowing that I've given my all my thoughts into this essay, the final grade at the end of this semester do not matter. I will not look back regretting the way I approached this elective module of mine.

A great way to start the second phase of the first semester of school. An estimated 7 more weeks to my first paper - beginning with this elective: Introduction to Magical Realism.

The thrill of writing

Sunday, 335 am.

I finally finished writing my 1000 words essay on Amelie. The introduction and conclusion were not satisfactory. The organisation of my main argument was weak.

Monday, 430 am.

A clear mind. Enlightenment. Finally. The thrill of having a breakthrough in ideas made me spend another 5 hours rewriting my initial 1000 words. I don't think I have a conclusion.

Mon nom est Jean-Pierre Jeunet

When I was a kid, I used to escape from my family with my imagination. And I kept this spirit into my adult life.(Jean-Pierre Jeunet)

Mon nom est Jean-Pierre Jeunet.

I am the director of the movie Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain, or simply known stateside as Amélie. "I was born in 1953 and I have retained a nostalgia for the France of my childhood, or rather for its images, its fashion, its objects."

The word "NOSTALGIA" represents both a physical and spiritual longing for something in the past. For example, distant fading memories from years ago when one was a young child or the chain of events that occurred one after another that made one retreat into one's own imagination. Amélie retreats into her imagination to find someone whom she can talk to since her dad won't - the suicidal goldfish, statues that come to live, TV that can talk.

Perhaps I, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, could also have retreated into my own little world of dreams and imagination for the exact same reason Amélie had. My dad wasnt really talking to me much when I was a child. Up to the day He took him away from us, we never really talked. I remember being forced by my mum to sit by his side in the hospital ward the day before Father's day 3 years ago - to talk to him. But i really do not know what's there to say. All I did was look at his eyes, hold his weak hand and just wish that I could say something. After a while, he said something to me that I could barely understand - oh how I wish I did. All I can do was to imagine what it was. And imagine was all I seem to do since then.

Could he have told me to be a good son and look after my mum and 3 younger siblings? Could he have told me to just say something for goodness sake cause Ive been a man of little words since I was a boy? I really don't know.

Also perhaps I, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, had experienced a moment in my life that made me decided that enough was enough! That I really need to do something about my spontaneity (the lack of it) and shyness. To step out of my comfort zone - my little idealistic world - and just do something about things instead of just thinking about them.

Therefore, like Amélie who devised a scheme to introduce herself to Nino Quincampoix (a young man with an upbringing as troubled as hers), perhaps I too had decided that it's time for me to do something about the girl of my recent dreams. I had realised that the only way for her to know of my existence would be to say hi or to smile when we cross path - as pointed out by friends. However, like Amélie, Im introverted and introverts just do not say hi. We leave clues and hints to show our existence. We believe is the slimmest of chances that fate will simply pull through for us - and that's exactly the case with Amélie.

However, like all introverts, I know that such simplistic idealistic love story can only happen on the big screen. We know that things will not happen if one does not do anything about it. This might explain why Amélie got about doing something to get the guy that she liked midway through the movie.

If someone were to ask me why I had offered the world this particular vision of the world, I would say that perhaps, I simply want all of us to forget the hectic pace of the world that we're living in and just take a slow walk down memory lane. To relive the carefree and innocent life that we once had and then, do something about the life we presently live. Let's not be a slave of school and time and work and everything else in between. Perhaps, I wanted to tell the world that if we try real hard to look at things in a slightly positive and optimistic light, we'll see the good in everything that is not going all so good.

Perhaps too, I wanted to give the world a glimpse into the world of an introvert and our idea of simple pleasures. And if my name was really Jean-Pierre Jeunet, Amélie is actually just a secret coded message to all introverts all over the world to get their imaginary butts up and do something about getting the girl or guy that they want, through whatever way that they want.

Are there broader implications of the film's "retro" tendencies?

'[One critic] left the film enraged, declaring his disgust with this ... retro, postcard version of France, undeniably cleansed of all cultural diversity and, by extension, all immigrants.' (Frédéric Bonnaud)

If my name was really Jean-Pierre Jeunet, I'll call the critic a hard-boiled realist who has a really hard hard time with my excessive magic, fantasy and imagination. He's just like Cinderella's stepsisters who just can't stomach the fact that Cinderella got her Prince Charming despite all the odds.

I wish that Amélie will continue to stick and jump around in my heart, egging me to do all those silly and charming little things I wish I dared to do.

Mon nom est Amélie Part II

Mon nom est Amelie.

And I've got to admit that the last thing I want is a reality check. I live in a little world of my own - where simple things like dipping my hand into sacks of grain, cracking crème brûlée with a teaspoon and skipping stones across St. Martin's Canal really make my day. And not forgetting beautiful people and their smiles. Someone might remember my answer to a question posed to me by a teacher in class. She asked me, "What makes you happy?" After a quick thought and a smile, I said out loud for everyone to hear, "Seeing the smiles on my classmates faces makes me happy. Knowing that they're happy makes me happy."

I sort of became a secret matchmaker and guardian angel and Ive realized that I subtly leave an impact the lives of those around me with subtle manipulation. I escorted a blind man to the Metro station, giving him a rich description of the street scenes he passes. I managed to persuade my father to follow his dream of touring the world by stealing his garden gnome and having an air-hostess friend send pictures of it from all over the world. I managed to convince the unhappy concierge of my building that the husband who abandoned her had in fact sent her a final love letter just before his death.

Helping people makes me happy. But I've been thinking too much about the happiness of others that I forgot to be happy myself. So if I were to be on my way to school one day and cross path with a nice looking girl with a nice beautiful smile, never will I risk doing something/anything that might take my simple pleasure away.

However in the movie, I ended up stepping out of my comfort zone and had a pretty good ending. This is something I'll never understand. Things do not just work that way in real life. I need to have a word with the director of the film because now, someone I know have been reminded time and time again to do something about it - coz that's what Amelie did in the movie.

Mon nom est Amelie.

Perhaps in the movie, I went against the things that I will normally do. However in reality, I'll never do it for I'm afraid of losing one of life's simple pleasure. Perhaps too, I'm a coward. But perhaps too, I'm simply waiting for a sign... or two... or three...

I don't know.

Mon nom est Amélie

Mon nom est Amélie. For the uninitiated, my name is Amélie.

Some say I'm a coward. Some say I'm not sociable. Raymond Dufayel told me that it's time for me to take some real risks. In simpler terms, to get a move on. But I see the world in a magical light, discovering minor miracles every day. I like to look for things no one else catches. I hate the way drivers never look at the road in old American movies. In such a dead world, I prefer to dream until I'm old enough to leave home.

But is it true? Is it true that the last thing I want is a reality check? Watch this space.

Salam Lebaran

Salam Lebaran, Eid Mubarak, Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri....

I'm already missing Ramadhan. School has taken up a SIGNIFICANT portion of my time of late and Ramadhan had made me realize that I can still do more on top of school work - if i put my mind and heart to it.

I was challenged to memorize a new surah from the Quran this past Ramadhan. Seeing how I barely went for the nightly Taraweeh prayers, let alone read the Quran, I was tempted to tell him "Not this Ramadhan. I'm busy." And with barely two weeks left to Eid (and countless quizzes), it was impossible. However, putting school ahead of the things I should be engaging in in the holy month of Ramadhan would not be the right (and wise) thing for me to do. Deep down, I had a feeling there's a reason behind this self-thought of mine. I was in a crossroad and had two paths to take. I had to choose and despite me not being a spontaneous person, I said yes.

And I chose surah Ar-Rahman - a couple of pages, confusing verses but very poetic. I fell in love with this surah when I was younger - when going to the mosque would never affect my grades or projects or assignments. I remember being forced to wake up at 330am to perform the Tahajjud prayers when some would fall asleep while praying - me being one of those embarassed few. It was during this time when kids several years older than me would take turns to be the imam and this surah simply caught my attention. Nine years later, with barely two weeks to Eid, not afraid of "overloading" my schedules, why not?

And alhamdulillah, I managed to accomplish (give and take small confusions) what I thought was impossible. Ramadhan has taught me that one should never use religion as an excuse for one's lack of time in worldly issues. For every 5 minutes of prayers, I would have spent 15 or more minutes writing entries. And for every entry that I write, I would have spent twice the amount of time thinking and typing and backspacing. Let's not forget the time spent on Facebook, Soccernet and highlights after highlights of the match between Manchester United and Manchester City.

I guess all Im trying to say is that there's a million and one thing to blame for one's lack of time - Let it not be religion. And that if you really put your heart and mind to something, you can do it.

There's a lingering question though - Why can I never memorize simple formulas for modules like Soil Mechanics and Fluid Mechanics?? grrr...

Literary Metamorphosis

The theme of a story is the idea that holds the story together. In essence, a theme is the main idea or some type of lesson or message that the author wants to convey to the reader. For example, the great novel, Little Women, is about four sisters, but that is the subject of the book. One of the themes is the struggles of young girls maturing into women. A story can have more than one theme. Though themes might be difficult to find, there are some ways to identify them.

.....[www.howtodothings.com/.../how-to-identify-literary-themes.html]

Below are the three suggested steps on "How to identify literary themes?"- and my attempt at answering my own doubts.

1. Identify the central topics or "big ideas."

Love is in the air in Of Love and Other Demons. So are demons - or things that seem demonic in nature. However, Marquez's love do not have the happily ever after ending. Instead, Marquez's love brings out the ugliness ("the Demon") in his characters. The one and only Demon that was supposed to be in the story is really nothing but a doubt - readers cannot really put a finger as to whether or not Sierva Maria was really possessed.

Too many blurred lines. I'm confused. But if someone were to point a gun at me and ask me to identify one theme of the book, I will still insist that I really do not know how to "describe a theme".

But I know that somehow, the words "lovely demon" and "evil religion" are floating in my engineering mind right now and I need help to put them into words fit for the literary world. I have this recurring thought that Marquez seem to make the Devil himself a lesser demon as compared to the demon that exist in all of us. Even the "Holy" Bishop - a man of religion - seem more evil that the "possesed" protagonist, Sierva Maria. In wanting to exorcise the demon in Sierva Maria, the Bishop (in my mind) was the bigger and more evil demon than the demon to be exorcised (this is where the idea of "evil religion" comes from).

Or are these blurred boundaries - like the hybrid between a lovely religion and an evil demon, for example - be the central theme I'm looking for?

2. Identify how the characters relate to the central topic.

The characters are bounded by the "lovely Demon" as well the "evil religion". Forbidden love between Ygnacio and the slave girl and the one between the Father Cayetano and Sierva Maria. Could this be related to the forbidden books (What is Marquez's reason behind a book that is only mentioned twice or so)?

3. Organize your thoughts.

Funny how the final step is called "Organize your thoughts". Clearly my mind is a little messed up. Attempts at organizing them into categories and orders will only make everything more messed up, blurred and muddled. For some weird reason, I feel as though Marquez is doing to me what I'm doing to others.

The great Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges wrote in 1942 an essay titled ‘El idioma analítico de John Wilkins’ in which he laid out the challenges of human attempts to classify the world. Mary Douglas  suggested that "societies are likely to see things as 'taboo' when they are anomalous, when they don't fit neatly into a society's classification of the world".

I believe I'm feeling slightly chaotic because of my inability to classify - despite my engineering mind. Despite my love of predicting, anticipating and reading between the lines, I feel "insulted" not being able to read or guess why Marquez does what he does. Frankly, I do not even know what's on his mind besides the fact that it's a weird love story that I happen to like. Is it time to finally allow myself to be influenced by the perspectives and opinions of critics? Perhaps.

Tell me Mr Marquez, what's behind the magical realism?