Puzzled

I can't put it together
how it used to be
and how it is

the pieces don't fit
and the cut at my skin
when ever I touch them

I can't place the you now
with the you I used to know
somehow every things changed

I don't know how I feel
I don't know what to think
the pieces don't fit together

They cut heart deep
where did the warmth go
where did the love disappear

Its a puzzle of life
and I just can't
Just can't figure you out

A puppy is for life, not just Christmas

A puppy is not just for Christmas.

You hear stories about people buying puppies then abandoning them when they grow up. I cannot comprehend how anyone could do this. It’s been six and a half months since we lost our 'puppy'.

I still remember when we first bought her. She was the naughtiest pup of her litter. The hyperactive one that tried to escape through the back door into the kitchen; while we were trying to make our choice among the puppies. We saw her and fell in love with her instantly. She was a pretty little thing; with a large black patch near her bottom, a brown head that was parted with white streak in the middle.

On the way home, she whined a lot, perhaps out of fear; perhaps she just didn't fancy being stuck in a box! We opened the box for her and she peeked at her new surroundings. She seemed amazed by cars that we passed and leaned intently with her tiny paws on the windows, looking outside.

When we reached home, we let her out of the box and she explored her surroundings with unsuppressed excitement. In fact, she was so excited; she decided to 'baptize' our marble floor much to my annoyance. This would be a routine for the next few days and I practically had a mop and soap water ready twenty four hours a day; seven days a week. Toilet training her was quite the monumental task.

I remember when she discovered the stairs in our house. They were bigger than she was and she wasn't very happy about that fact. She tried several times, rather unsuccessfully to scale those dizzy heights, resulting in her falling firmly on her bum. I'd pick her up and check if she was okay. Nothing seemed to be bruised except for her little ego. She didn't give up and took it as a game. Within a week, she managed to climb those steps, and there was no peace in the house. She'd be running up and down the stairs without a care, and we'd be so worried she'd fall and hurt herself.

I remember this one time I had my girl friend over and we wanted some quiet time together. Our little pup would have none of that, sniffing and licking my girlfriend at every opportunity she found. I didn’t find it amusing that my girlfriend smelled and tasted like dog drool. In the end we put her in my brother’s room with a toy and left her to play. The ploy lasted a good five minutes before she started whining. We ignored her for a good ten minutes. Then the whining stopped. Around an hour later, we opened the door to let her out, and she ran out happily wagging her tail contentedly. She had dealt punishment to us for locking her in though! There were three mangled books on the floor!

She was a quick little puppy too. This one time I came home late and my mother had saved me one of my favorite dumplings. I was holding it with one hand, relishing the thought of sinking my teeth into a delicious, crispy, golden brown dumpling when I realized something was very wrong. The dumpling was missing from my hand! I could hear the scurry of little paws running for her life, making her escape with my dumpling. By the time I caught her, the dumpling was history. She managed to look smug somehow and it took me so long to catch her that it was too late to spank her. Yes I'm an overweight fatty and she's a lean mean dumpling stealing machine!

Speaking of spanking, our little puppy was having trouble adjusting to being allowed upstairs. She turned the bottom of our stairs into her personal toilet. My family and I often stepped into her little surprises. One yell of her name and she'd know we'd found her hidden gift. Quicker than you can say 'Bad girl' she would run and hide under my bed where no one could reach her. Every once in a while she would peek to see if anyone was waiting for her to spank her. If there was she'd zip right under the bed again. Eventually she would instinctively know we've forgiven her, and she'd come cuddle up to us as if to say sorry.

When she was slightly older, we used to take her for walks. There was this one time, we found out how feisty our little pup really was. I was walking her past this house when all of a sudden she tried to run towards the gate and started whining when it was out of her reach. Curious I let her head towards the gate. Then out of no where, came a humongous Doberman. My little pup was not afraid at all in fact she was jumping towards the Doberman fearlessly. Well good for her. I had enough fear for the both of us!

She always had a tough time telling friend from foe. To her, everyone and everything was a friend! She'd never make a good guard dog. Firstly she is too cute to frighten anyone. The only thing she'd probably do is lick the burglar into submission when she catches one.

Our little pup also had a thing for thunder. She'd begin by barking at it, as if to scare it away or tell it to shut up. Failing this, and the thunder continuing to get louder and louder, she'd run to the closest pair of arms or lap she could find to hide from the big bully. Same deal with fire crackers and fireworks, in her book, they were huge bullies that the comfort of her owners lap could chase away.

Coming home was always a joy for my mother, brother and me. When I came home alone, she would be waiting there, all excited and wagging her tail frantically. I'd open the door and she'd jump, knowing I'd catch her and smothered her with kisses. When my mother came back from work, which was normally late, our pup would bark and lick me senseless if I was asleep, as if to tell me to open the door for her. She'd sit by the door patiently as I unlocked it. Then she would raise her front two paws to be carried to see my mother. Her tail would be like a little helicopter rotor. Rotating mercilessly.

She was also an avid DVD watcher. She would sit down on top of the sofa, keeping my mother company as my mother watched her DVDs. And when my mother was done, my mother would switch of the light and our pup would know it was time for bed and follow my mother to bed.

When our pup was a year old, it was time for her to be spayed. Our hearts almost broke from hurt when we saw the condition she was in. Almost a quarter of her fur had been shaved off. She had five massive stitches on her tiny frame and she was shivering. She recognized us when she woke up from the anesthesia and wagged her tail weakly at us.

We regretted having her spayed almost immediately. She would whine in pain and discomfort and my mother would stroke her head to soothe her and let her know we were here. She was too weak to eat, so we syringe fed her glucose water for two weeks. Our normally hyper little pup was cage-bound and didn't protest because she was so tired and in too much pain. It took her around three weeks before she fully recovered. Then she was back to her old hyper dumpling stealing self. The relief we felt was immense.

Our pup normally slept with me; cozying herself at my feet and the bottom of my blanket. However, whenever she heard the air conditioning turned on in my mother's room, she would migrate. Not to greener pastures, but to cooler pastures!

Our pup had one bad habit that turned out to be a nightmare for me and my family. Being tiny, she could squeeze under the house gate. She also had this habit of running after cats. A few times, she escaped while we were going out of the house to chase a cat. Normally this would mean me chasing her down the street half naked and barefooted. I’d catch her, and then I’d spank her for running away.

This one time, a day after my birthday, March 13^th, she ran out to chase a cat. As usual I ran after her and thought nothing of it. Just as I was about to catch her, she got chased by two stray dogs and she ran so fast that I couldn’t catch up with her. That would be the last time I saw her; running frantically for her life.

We drove for nearly five hours looking for her. Then we thought she’d know the way home, so we gave up the search as it was 2am by then. She never came home! We walked around the whole of SS19, posting missing posters and handing out 2000 flyers for our missing pup.

The three of us spent days driving around SS19 looking for her. We even got a group of close friends to help us comb the area looking for her. No luck. We got several phone calls and tip offs, but we never came close to finding her.

There was this one time she was spotted by a resident of SS19 running up and down the street for two days. The resident said she heard our pup crying in the middle of the night, whining out of loneliness or perhaps because she wanted to go home.

I can’t begin to explain the turmoil of feelings that we went through. Every time we got a phone call, our hopes would rocket. When we found out that we were too late to find our pup, or that the dog found wasn’t our pup, the reality would sink in and we’d weep for her loss.

It was like our family was ripped apart all over again. The house was awfully quiet. When it rained, we would worry that our pup would be afraid of the lightning. When there were festivals, we’d shudder when we heard firecrackers.

My mother would hear barking in the middle of the night, and sent us out, looking for our pup. Rain or shine my mother would walk around asking strangers if they had seen her. After being depressed, she still refused to give up hope.

Six and a half months later. The story is still the same. We drove around random areas looking for our pup. When we see four white legs on the road, we’d stop to check if it was our pup. We continued to post her pictures in forums and websites in hope of someone spotting her.

We have kept all her favorite toys and snacks outside the house, hoping that she will recognize her scent or the toys or our house if she passed by. We all have a ‘Missing Dog’ poster on our cars. We even posted an advertisement offering a reward in the Star but to no avail.

We’ve done all this, and yet there is a sneaky feeling that we have not done enough. That we missed out something. Maybe this article is what is what was missing. She was with us for two very special years and we treasure the time we had with her immensely. However if you’ve seen her or are keeping her, please give us a call (0122809296). She’s not just for Christmas, she’s for life.

Happy Birthday to you

Happy b'day Lynn... may have been years since we've talked without yelling at each other... but I still wish you the best...

have a great day

love

vince

O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm.
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy;
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy

This poem's basically about a rose, a beautiful thing losing its 'life' metaphorically speaking. The worm represent a dark force or entity that robs the rose of its 'life'

To be frank IACT's prom movie competition played the 'worm' to my ambitions as a script writer. Not to say I write beautiful things, that would be a conceited thing to say, and totally unlike me.

But it did crush a lot of hope I had for the night. One of the main reasons I went to the prom was to watch the video awards. Frankly speaking, it was a disappointment. None of my videos won anything. Well not the video we had high hopes for. Which is okay. I can accept that if we were beaten by better videos.

But if you ask me this was not the case. It was a night where slapstick comedy won over pseudo intelligent jokes and comic. I don't want to say too much about the winning video, except congratulations and well done. Your video was funny. There's no taking anything away from that.

But winning best actor, actress and script? I'm sorry but that was a to be frank, ridiculous. The best actor was a ghost who just wore make up and went boo. Even I could do that and I can't act at all. The winning actress' act comprised of screaming, screaming and more screaming. Very talented. And what script was there for a slapstick comedy? Could some one enlighten me as to this?

Frankly, the whole thing has put me off writing scripts. Big time. I'm demotivated and disenchanted with the whole thing. If this is the kind of humor that wins awards, then I rather not win awards. What talent does it take to write a slapstick comedy? I should have come up with a three stooges them and perhaps that would have won.

I'm pretty set on not writing any more scripts. At least not for the Malaysian public.

Muhibah?

Racial harmony? Racial integration? What are my thoughts on it? Bitter. I'm in a rather special position in society you see. I do not belong in any of the major or minor races in society. I am of mixed racial descent. I am Chinese Indian. Or Chindian, as the society prefers to refer to me as. Kopi susu, Chikeling, Kelingchina; the racial slurs go on endlessly. Fun stuff isn’t it, having ridiculous nicknames for your racial descent? I think not.

Anyway I rather think of myself as a hybrid, or even an outcast rather than a specific race. The fact is I don't belong with the Chinese and I don't belong with the Indians. I look Malay but do not speak a word of Bahasa Malaysia. I’m in between worlds and that’s the truth of it. Truth to tell, I don’t fancy being labeled as any race.

In our society, we have prejudices against each race. The Chinese are hardworking business men that only care about money. The Indians are todi-drinking wife-beaters; who drive trucks. The Malays are just plain lazy and prefer doing stunts on their two thousand dollar motorbikes to anything remotely constructive. With images like this, would anyone in their right mind choose to be labeled as one of these races?

Sadly the answer would be yes. The reason? People feel a need to conform to society. Deviancy if frowned upon. If you do not belong to a class, you do not belong to society.

We hear fairy tale stories of the cultural mixing pot that Malaysia is. Intermarriages between the races and abundant peace and harmony amongst the different races. But is this really the case?

When my parents got married, both their families objected strongly to the marriage. It came to a point where there were threats of disowning them from their families. Being carefree and spirited, as people who are in love always are, they got married anyway. Is this racial integration? This intense condemnation of a marriage between two different races in our country, I think not.

My father would often speak of the Chinese in a disparaging manner. One of his favorite anecdotes was, ‘When a man truly smiles, he smiles from his eyes. That is why you will never really see a Chinaman truly smile.’ Or he’d make fun of my grand mother on my mother’s side, telling me not to grow up to be ‘an old crone selling flowers on a ferry boat.’ My mother was equally critical of the Indians. ‘If you don’t study hard you’ll grow up to be a rubber taper or a lorry driver.’

A confusing environment to grow up in? Yes, to say the least. Perhaps my family background is not the best environment to have grown up in. Surely our wonderful Malaysia has people who are open minded and open to racial integration.

I remember growing up in Malacca, and being brought up in an all-Chinese monastery. Even then there was a feeling of being out of place. The children were wary of me because I was different from them. And they asked about my ‘black’ father. I’d shrug off questions like that most of the time, but still it stayed in my mind.

Please bear in mind this was in kinder garden, so surely older children or teenagers are more mature and more open to the concept of the mixing pot. In my experience, the answer is yet again no.

In primary school, a mixed racial environment, the segregation between the races was distressingly apparent. Distressing because I simply did not know which group I belonged to. The Chinese played with the Chinese, the Indians hung out with the Indians and the Malays did nothing with their fellow Malays. I literally wished I could split myself into two and see which of the two groups would accept me better.

In the end, I choose to mix with the Chinese. Firstly, I was brought up by my Chinese grandmother. (She had eventually given in to the idea that her youngest daughter had chosen an Indian for a husband and that there was nothing she could do about it any more.) So I was fluent in Cantonese.

Secondly, there were more of them, so the chances of one of them accepting me would be higher. Full acceptance was not to come; however, I was to them, an Indian who spoke fluent Cantonese.

But that was primary school! Secondary school is where the minds begin to develop and people truly begin to mature physically and mentally. Yup, things developed alright, into greater segregation. I wasn’t here much for high school, as I went over seas (but that is a different story all together), but it was pretty much the same as high school.

So here I am. An adult now! Are adults any more into the whole mixing pot thing? Well to an extent yes, people are more tolerant of racial differences. I have close friends of all races. And we hang out together and have fun. But still the racial differences are emphasized even though in jest.

Jokes about my friend Azan being a lazy Malay come into play. Me being an Indian bugger, and my friend Ming Han being a penny pinching scrooge all happen regularly at the talks we have at the mamaks. So, to an extent there is integration, albeit an uneasy one.

However, when it comes to dating their daughters, it’s a whole new ball game. I’m halve Indian, halve Chinese. The Chinese don’t want an Indian dating their daughter, and the Indians don’t want a Chinese dating their daughter.

It’s a social nightmare for me to be frank. Finding a girlfriend is a regular pain in the ass. It’s not just the parents who are wary. I’ve over heard a classmate in college saying that mixed babies are born stupid. I must be a fine specimen of that I suppose.

I’ve learned over the years that Muhibah, is an ideal, one that our country is striving to achieve. At this point in time, there maybe acceptance of unity between the major races, but as for the ‘half breeds’ like me, its hard in coming.

I’ve learned to take this as a challenge rather than a limitation. After all what is life without challenges? ‘Pariah’ signing off.

A poem for some one special to me

Lips arched

In a half curve

Soft and gentle

Promising nothing but love

You smile your half smile

And everything’s alright again

A whisper of the wind

The promise of morning rain

Baby brown eyes

They twinkle, they shine

Softly oh so softly

When they stare into mine

Honey brown sweet skin

Sunned and gently tanned

From the curl of your neck

To the palm of your hand

With a laughter that does not echo

But tingles across my spine

Music to my ears

To my lips a fine wine

Fingers, soft and curved

Tracings circles on my smile

Steady and calming

All the while

New song...

See the beautiful girl

She walks away

And how gently

Her hips do sway

See that beautiful girl

She not turning back

She’s never judge you

For all you lack

See that beautiful girl

You’ve let her go

For only reasons

You’ll never know

Oh, you wonder

How it ever came to this

Seems so long ago

Since you first kissed

See that beautiful girl

She hurting inside

Filled with emotion

That she just can’t hide

See that beautiful girl

You’ve let her down

All you ever did

Was make her frown

See that beautiful girl

You know she right

She’s leaving you

Walking out of sight

Oh, you wonder

Why it turn out this way

You let her go

When you had so much to say

See that beautiful girl

She loves you so

Where she’s going

She doesn’t know

See that beautiful girl

She’s the one you love

But you snapped the wings

Of love’s lonely dove

See that beautiful girl

You let her go

She only going

Cause you told her so

See that beautiful girl

She lost to you

And its your own fault

You know this true.

Oh, you wonder

If you can make it through

With out her

And just lonely… you…

I wanna be a bear

too lazy to blog... to much crap going on in life... heres a pic to keep you entertained if you're waiting for updates...

later days :)