A Green New Year Resolution

Don’t buy something unless you really need it.

Come on, your mother told you that tons of times, didn’t she? But did you ever listen? Noooooo.

Mother Nature would have yelled out the same thing. She didn’t. Now she’s just punishing us in different ways. Think about it the next time you are fiddling the air conditioning switches in your car, wondering why it can’t combat the heat outside. The problem is not with the car, but with you and me.

“I will not buy it if I really, really don’t need it.” Add it on to your resolutions /  goals or whatever it is you want to call that list. Write it down on slips of paper, on that electronic device you’re attached to, or stamp in on your mind.

Making a difference in the world is that simple. The article Let’s change the business paradigm – and save theplanet, mentions it.

“Now the company asks customers tosign a pledge that they won't buy something unless they really need it.”

That’s what we should do. Get together with a couple of friends and sign a pledge not to buy unnecessarily. At least, you’ll be able to nudge one another on towards keeping it. 

Christmas Smells Swell, a short story

Christmas Stories. I wrote a couple of  'em but was told they were too sad. Bah humbug! 

Read 'em for yourself and tell me if you tear up. 

By the way, if you're going to reproduce any part of it, please do acknowledge author - Sheela Prabhakaran. 

Christmas Smells Swell 

I sat sullenly in the corner, facing the wall. Dad’s idea of punishment was never fun.

It had started out innocently enough with a stink bomb. Isn’t that what brothers do? Play tricks on one another?

Unfortunately, mum and dad didn’t think so. Mum was in a right rotten mood. “Just before Christmas too! Will we ever get this smell out?” she grumbled loudly enough for the entire town to hear.

I hung my head in shame. I didn't want to be on Santa’s naughty list. I needed to do something, and do it quick too.

Once Dad was done with me, I rushed out into the forest. A squirrel tilted her head at me as she sat with her bushy tail moving languidly behind her. “What should I do?” I asked her.

Talking to a squirrel – what would my friends say? But there was no one else to turn to. Mum certainly didn't want to talk to me just then. Anyway, that’s when the most amazing thing happened.

The squirrel chattered loudly, attracting her mate. I watched fascinated as they gathered pine-cones  flowers and other fragrant herbs from the forest. They dragged it all close to me and gave me one long look before scooting off.

Why of course! Forest fragrance will drown the stink in our log cabin. “Thank you!” I yelled after the chattering chums. Christmas was starting to look merry once again.  

Secret Worlds

A mask for the world to watch

Another for a few to glimpse

A third kept secreted away.

 
Our inner worlds are many

Like a river’s murky depths

Yet, apart like day and night.

Familiar eyes widen

Puzzled over newfound trails

Uncertain where to trod.

Wishing fervently black was black

Whilst white remained white

Detesting confusing depths of grey.

A world for each moment in time

We are but constantly changing

Never still, always elusive.   

A White Treasure

Sometimes, beauty lies hiding in your backyard. It is just a matter of looking for it.

There she was waiting on the ground. My treasured white find which had me practically squealing with delight. Barringtonia Asiatica, the flower that is otherwise known as Sea Poison Tree and commonly referred to in Melay as “putat”.

It was lying there on the grounds out at FRIM  (Forest Research Institute malaysia), a place that I had once frequented for weekly walks.

Thing is,  when you’re out with frens  that time walks too earnestly and have a gazillion things to accomplish on a Sunday, there’s no time to stand and stare.

Totally different from when photographers venture out.

Which is why that Sunday morning, we took our own sweet time. The fitness freaks would have breezed through the main road in five minutes. We only took about two hours.

A friend gleefully tested out  her micro lens on mushrooms that tried to hide away between leaves. Tall trees with leaves that hardly touched loomed over us,  barks with interesting patterns stared at us and dragonflies that rested fleetingly teased us. That and much more had us snapping away.   

This particular forest still leaves me spellbound no matter how many times I visit. Which brings me back to my point about beauty being in our backyard.

Often, we don’t seem to look hard enough with what we have and what is so close by. There’s no need to seek beauty and joy afar; it’s most probably staring you right in the face. 

Ever met old-time birders who are still mesmerized by  common birds?

They painstakingly focus their binoculars on them, letting their beauty fill their lives with awe all over again. Perhaps we should be like them. Appreciate the beauty in all that surrounds us, no matter how many times we’ve seen it. 

 

A quick word about FRIM

FRIM is a green haven that locals flock to, to walk off food indulgences, soak in  green vibes, cycle on treks, picnic out to the sound of cascading water, and more. There are lots of trails, a canopy walk, a waterfall, etc. Try logging on to the official website  at www.frim.gov.my/, though it is a tad slow.

Translators. Totally Unappreciated.

Translators aren’t given the recognition they deserve. It’s a thought that strikes home repeatedly whilst I am glued to beautifully translated books. 

There are times that I read a book just to know what happens next. Ken Follet’s “Ten Pillars of the Earth” is one such book. Reminds me of when I used to watch Desperate Housewives. Yeah,  we all know there was no deep thought-provoking plot to that TV show.

Yet, each time the writers ended with a cliffhanger, I was hooked. That was it.  Not knowing what happened next was sheer torture, no matter how idiotic it eventually turned out to be.

Anyway, when it came to “The Garlic Ballads” and “My Name is Red” of which I’ve been reading on-and-off, I stay glue to them for different reasons.

That garlic book is pungent! (Sorry, couldn’t resist it.) Am not a great fan of anything that makes me tear up, but “The Garlic Ballad” is so beautifully written that it gives poetry to a simple farmer’s dreadful troubles. On the other hand, I wonder what someone who read Mo Yan’s book in Chinese would have to say about both versions. How much did Howard Goldblatt, the translator add to (or to be fair, subtract from) its beauty?

“My Name is Red” is another page-turner. The words are sheer magic, the narration superb. Yet, my restless mind darts around, wondering what the Turkish version is like. I doubt it’s possible to have an exact mirror image no matter how hard translator Erdaq M. Guknar would have tried.

I’m sure this is a topic that has been debated to death somewhere in the virtual world. Am not going to look it up just yet or else my mischievous mind will be focused on how it was done rather than enjoy the book itself. Future translated books would be just ruined for me.

Now, after having declared that I won’t pick up any more books till I’ve read all that’s scattered over my space, I’m pondering on which translated gem I should feast on next.

Sudoku & the Real World

Lessons learnt from sudoku addiction

*shudder*  - my initial reaction to a plain box filled with straight lines and augmented with a few numbers. The first time I tried to pencil in a few numbers, it was frustrating. Out of the window, went my first pathetic attempt at Sudoku.

Just numbers. That can drive you up the wall.

Fast forward to a couple of years later (yeah, it took me that long), I am beginning to get addicted to getting the right numbers into those tiny cells.

As for the reason to this sudden fascination – ‘tis only because many claim it helps the old grey cells work better. All my solitary bouts of writing and researching with the occasional human contact thrown in seems to be slowing down the thinking process. Or is  it just age rearing its ugly side?

Interesting how Sudoku has some similarities to life.

·         Being systematic helps save lots of time. Real world scenario – it pays to be organised.

·         There are lots of how to Sudoku tips online. Real world scenario – someone’s been there, & done that. Don’t bother to reinvent the wheel, unless you have a point to prove.

·         It’s addictive. Like all good things. Real world scenario – alcoholism, gambling, food binges, etc. Is there a Sudoku Anonymous ?

·         Never give up too soon. Real world scenario – never give up on a challenge as the answer may be right there facing you.

Next step. Trying to figure out how to play it on my HP that’s still cunningly outsmarting me.

Starting Over

Does the thought of walking into a roomful of strangers put you off?


And when you did finally do it, was there much awkwardness with little beads of perspiration dotting your forehead? Along with a nervous little laugh that came out of nowhere, punctuating short terse sentences? I’d hazard a guess that at least eight out of ten persons would react in this manner.


If that’s the case, would you even consider moving to a country full of strangers?


No warm safe circle of friends to hang out with. No family, much less extended family, to bicker with or go running to. No comfortable familiar places of worship to fall back on. No safe predictable job or clients to keep your financial worries at bay.


When an old schoolmate decide to pack it up and migrate to Australia, the rest of the gang just watched her with awe.


We admired her guts and determination. When the signal for an overhaul in her life went on, she took baby steps to make things better. There was no cringing and wasting away her life whining incessantly like a spoilt child.


There were mixed reactions to her move. Yearning to follow in her footsteps, a couple of the gals wanted to more details. Others muttered that such a drastic move was not their cup of tea.


Which made me wonder why those of us in the latter group were so reluctant to follow suit?


Especially when we come from a lineage (Malaysian Indians and Malaysian Chinese) that upped and left their homeland for a better life.


My own father had willingly got onto a ship sailing out to British Malaya, as Malaysia was known then, to make his fortune. Later, he returned to Kerala, bringing back a young bride to settle down for good here.


That was more than half a century ago.


Days when life was sans Internet at your fingertips, the tool that lets you practically experience life in a new land. Yet, the older I get, the more I flinch at the thought of having to take a one way ticket out of my comfort zone.


Would you do it?


To my old school pal Anne - I admire how you’ve built a new life for yourself. Here’s wishing you the very best in life.