Silence

~It has been said silence is a strength, in quite a different sense it is a terrible strength in the hands who are loved. It increases the anxiety of the one who waits. Nothing so tempts us to approach another person as what is keeping us apart; and what barrier is so insurmountable as silence? But what an even greater torture than that of having to keep silence it is to have endure the silence of the person one loves.~

~Besides, more cruel than the silence of prisons, that kind of silence is in itself a prison. It is an intangible enclosure, true, but an impenetrable one. This interposed slice of empty atmosphere through which nevertheless the visual rays of the abandoned lover cannot pass.~

While reading the third tome of Proust's "A la Recherche du Temp Perdu", I came across this passage. I had complete resonance with every word, because I was the unaware prisoner a few years back. I had no clue as to what I had done or not done to deserve this treatment.

The reason is totally inconsequential now. Oh, but how I admire the depth of Proust's writing. Tears welled in my eyes when I read it. How could he know the torments of silence had he not felt it first? I believed he had seen it, heard it, smelled it, tasted it and touched it. Much more so, felt it. So have I.

A friend was right in saying that "not knowing" was the cruelest because you could not be rid of the questions surrounding "why". She was also right in saying that to just disappear, the person had to be heartless, selfish and cowardice. I used to disagree, but after reading what Proust described, silence was mental torture.

(Photo: www.sethearl.wordpress.com)
(~Excerpts: The Guermantes Way by Marcel Proust)

Drowning in Sorry

There is one word in a woman's span of dating life she will hear over and over again at least a million times. No surprises ladies. It's none other than the word "sorry". I have been hearing variations of this word so many times the past few months, I could literally drown in them.

The word "sorry" has a lot of nuances. I am an expert on it because I have heard ocean-deeps of them. Some of the "sorry" are truly genuine. You could hear it in the earnestness in the person's voice, text, mail. This type of sorry is rare though.

Most "sorry" are cover ups of the person's wanting to absolve any responsibility of not delivering what's promised, chickening out or simply, having nothing else to say. You could tell this type of "sorry" is fake because it comes out of the same people in the same situation every single time. It never fails like clock work.

I was talking to a girl friend recently and she said that if a person was so "sorry", why did he do it in the first place or repeatedly over the second, third or nth time. Undoubtedly, we were responsible for it happening the nth time because we were blind enough or more likely stupid enough to believe he will change.

We deduced that "sorry" had lost all of it's original meaning of "feeling or expressing sympathy, grief, or regret". It had evolved to become a word used casually to avoid exactly the above definition, that of "feeling or expressing sympathy, grief or regret."

It's rare to hear "sorry" between girl friends, at least amongst my girl friends. Most of us take promises to heart. I don't make promises lightly, because if I do, I deliver. It's the same with work and matters of the heart. Why do women rise to the top of the corporate ladder now? Simply because we deliver and we don't use "sorry" to cover up the lame duck excuses.

(photo : www.wallcoo.net)

Flower Class

Wrist Corsage on Glass Vase

Dome Rose Bouquet

Bridal Bouquet with Calla Lilies

I have been taking flower classes since May. The Dome Rose posy was by far the most difficult one because we had to visualize the whole process from a reversed angle.

The front of the posy, as seen, was actually the top from where we had to create the dome. All the while, we had to balance the three roses which hung vertically down.

First, we had to choose three rose buds, place at an angle in the foam, then wire to steady them. Next, we pick the biggest bloom and put it in the middle as our focal point. Actually, when we were making the posy, the rose was on top.

I totally blanked out the first few minutes, when the teacher said we had to measure the length of the other roses and foliage to make the posy into a perfect dome. I was so glad that after a few stems, I got the hang of it. Another challenge was that the foam break apart easily, so we had to be pretty accurate as to where to put the stems.

We ended up standing up and stooping down to see if the posy was rounded for two full hours. I was tired, but happy to have learnt yet another technique.

Championship

I have been dying to write this post. The past week, I have stayed up till 2 am, sometimes 3am to watch every Finals game. I woke up at 8am this morning to watch Game 5 of the best of 7 series. Lakers were leading 3-1. Just one more game.

Lakers and LA fans were devastated by last year's humiliating defeat by the Celtics, they lost by 39 points at home court. It was a defeat the Lakers vouched to avenge. Ever since the Lakers nailed the Western Conference Finals this year, we were waiting for a comeback, one that would silence all the cynics.

Could Kobe Bryant win a Championship without Shaq? Today, Lakers rule, Kobe rocks and Shaq drools. Today, Lakers took Game 5, 4-1, to take the NBA Finals Championship. During the playoffs and finals games, critics said Kobe was so focused on winning the Title, he had a permanent scowl on his face. His daughters called him "Grumpy" after the 7 dwarfs. Today he smiled, a broad grin.

As the Lakers players donned their championship caps, Kobe's 2 daughters came out in their gold Lakers dresses with mom, in Lakers purple. You could see the relief and the exultation on his face. Playing as he did, he was the Finals MVP, but he did not forget to give credit to his teammates. Kobe has matured. It's not a one man show from before, it's team work.

Derek Fisher, the only other player who had won 3 championships with Kobe back in 2000-2 was tearing up when he was interviewed. He said that winning this time around meant a lot, because they had been on the highest and seen the lowest. To have comeback from the lowest and be on top again is truly amazing.

Incidentally, this year's NBA theme is "Where Amazing Happens". "Amazing" was sung by Kanye West.

(photo: www.nba.com)

Australia

Hugh Jackman was not a familiar name in my peripheral knowledge of Hollywood stars till I watched the Oscars presentation. He was the host of that night. There were a lot of criticisms about the Academy shouldn't be spending an absurd amount of money on the presentation, in accordance with the economic times.

The decoration was subdued compared to the past Oscars. Against the backdrop of this blandness though was true talent. Hugh Jackman cracked a couple of jokes setting the mood of the night. He quipped about the past roles he'd played in, and he said the most challenging one was him, an Australian, playing an Australian, in a film called Australia. Then he sang, in a Broadway style for 5 minutes. I was awed. Boy could he sing!!

Australia was a movie about the lost generation of aboriginal children in Australia. These were children born of white fathers and aboriginal mothers. These "creamy" kids would be taken away from the aboriginal mothers and kept in schools run by churches, aiming to assimilate them into the white people and cutting their roots as half aboriginals.

Nicole Kidman, always elegant, played Lady Ashley. She came to "down under" from England to find Lord Ashley, who had invested in a cattle ranch, dead. Hugh Jackman was the cowboy sent to meet her and take her to the cattle ranch. It was hilarious when poised gal met tough guy and Nullah, the creamy child.

The film was funny, wistful, romantic and epic in scale and it attempted to tell the story of the lost generation against the backdrop of a love story and a war. In the end, I think the movie accomplished what it set out to do, to bridge the wrongs done to the aboriginals. In 2008, the Australian government apologized for what she has done to the lost generation.

It's a beautiful movie.

(Photo: http://movies.about.com/od/australia/ig/Australia-Photos/australiapic2.htm)

A Matter of Trust

What upsets me is not that you lied to me, but that from now on I can no longer believe you. ~Friedrich Nietzche

My manicurist is a firm believer in astrology, especially, the compatibility of zodiac signs. She is in her early twenties but when she talks about her favorite topic, she sounds like a wizened woman who has seen the world. She keeps telling me that I should learn more about my zodiac sign, so that I'll "know" what I want.

A week ago, she sent me a link about my sign. Wow, a whole page of sub-links appeared. I clicked on the first link. It was a history of my sign, which dated back to Greek mythology. The second link was a detailed description of my sign. As I read on, I went uh-huh, uh-huh about my traits. One of the links also had my lucky colors and dates. I got tired after clicking some 15 links, which was only a third of the whole page.

The one trait that stood out is that I do not trust people easily. I tend to observe people for quite some time before entrusting myself to others. After deciding that the person is trustworthy to be a friend, a working partner or someone in my circle (family included), I would completely put my faith and trust in that person.

However, if that person breaks the trust, there is no going back. I agree with what the link described. Once I have decided to trust that person, I would not doubt the person's integrity for a second, but if that person time and time again betrays the trust, it would reach a point of no return. I would also reprimand myself for trusting that person.

One blind spot though, is relationships. I tend to fall in the category of love at first sight. Well, that explains why I am so blind in that department. Love is blind, right? Sigh....

(photo: http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3059/2299756851_5a8640415c.jpg?v=0)

Amazing Grace

In June 15th's edition of Time magazine, I came across a really heartwarming story about a 65 year old retired detective, Yukio Shige, scouting the three spots on the Tojinbo cliffs for suicides. If he finds someone, he would say "hi" and talk to them. A lot of times, the people he talk to would "burst into tears" and he would gently lead them to his "office".

He would serve them tea and oroshi-mochi, a sticky rice usually eaten only on New Year's. Shige is also a counsellor and he would listen and talk to the these people. He said that amongst men who commit suicide, it's almost universally work related, bounded by debts or unemployment. With women, it's health problems. As for youngsters, he would accompany them to their parents and make the parents "write a promise to change, and hang it on the wall".

For most of the past 5 years, he has funded his "organization" with his own savings or donations, to pay the rent of his office and sometimes help those he has "saved". Recently, the Japanese government pledged $100 million over the coming 3 years to organizations similar to Shige's. They have been petitioning for 5 years.

Japan has the highest suicide rate in the world, 23.8 per 100,000 person. Shige's reason behind serving the oroshi-mochi to those he has saved is bringing memories of loved ones celebrating the New Year's to their minds, reminding that they are not alone.

The article ended with Shige reading a letter from a man he has saved 5 years ago, thanking him for a second life. Then Shige's cell phone started to ring, the ring tone is the Amazing Grace. How great is that?

(Photo : http://jcollector.wordpress.com)

Notebook

Tricia Guild Designs

The first day I attended my flower class, my teacher asked me if I had brought a notebook to mark down the notes. I said that I didn't know...I felt like an idiot. Yes, although it's only a flower class, it was still a class. He then reminded me to take a picture of the notes on the white board with my cell phone before I left class....I did not exactly go hunting for a notebook, because you could get it at any stationery store.

One afternoon, I was early for an appointment, and I went browsing at a nice store. There was a stationery section, and there I saw "the" notebook that I wanted. It's designed by Tricia Guild and on the footer of every page was emblazoned with the line "Designer's Guild".

It was love at first sight. Obviously, I bought it. It was around US10. Yes, pricey for a notebook, but I love writing in it. The first section is reserved for my flower class notes. The back section is reserved for my musings, ideas that would pop up here and there for my blogs. I carry my notebook with me everywhere now. Well, it measures only 10.5 x 14.5cm, purse size and perfect.

For more on Tricia Guild please visit www.designersguild.com

The Kite Runner

The Kite Runner

I have always wanted to watch The Kite Runner. I read the book last year. It was not easy reading because it raised a lot of questions about morality.

The Kite Runner was about the friendship of two Afgan boys, Hassan and Amir. Hassan was a hazera, meaning flat-nosed, an inferior tribe. Hassan's father had been working for Amir's father for over forty years. Amir and Hassan were inseparable. Hassan was illiterate, so Amir always read to him and told him stories that he had made up.

Every year, there would be a kite flying tournament, and the last remaining kite in the air would be the winner. Hassan would always run for Amir's kites. He never disappointed Amir for he always knew where the kite would land. That year, Amir won and as usual Hassan ran after the kite that Amir had cut off as the trophy.

A couple of bullies were teasing Amir why he would hang out with a hazera. Hassan had always protected Amir when they were bullied. This time, the bullies cornered Hassan demanding the kite. Hassan refused to give them the kite because Amir had won it and out of his undying loyalty to Amir, he was raped by the bullies.

Amir hid behind the wall, saw everything, but he did not help or asked for help. One day, Hassan and his father Ali left. Then came the Russian invasion and both Amir and his father had to flee. Amir's father entrusted his house to his good friend, who incidentally encouraged Amir to write.

After they arrived in the U.S. Amir married and became a writer. One day, he received a call from his father's good friend and told him that "there is a way to be good again." Hassan and his wife were killed by the Taliban, leaving their son, Sohrab, in an orphanage in Kabul.

The secret and fact was Hassan and Amir were half brothers. Amir went back to Kabul to find his nephew. Hassan had learned to read and write. Not only did he not blame Amir, he wanted to be a good writer so he could write Amir a letter some day. The letter had all the blessings for Amir and a photograph of Hassan and his son.

Amir finally brought Sohrab back to the States and the final scene was Amir teaching Sohrab to fly a kite. After cutting the last kite, Amir ran after it, telling the reclusive and abused Sohrab that "for you, I'd run a thousand times", echoing what Hassan said to him all those years ago.

The film touched me the most when Amir read the labored letter of Hassan. Hassan felt he was not "good" enough compared to the literate Amir. In fact, it was Amir who was not "good" enough for Hassan, betraying their friendship. This is the irony of it all.

In the end, although the Amir could not undo the past, he could move on with lesser guilt. Through Hassan, he had journeyed through love, friendship, redemption, forgiveness and ultimately "be good again".

The movie is a very good rendition of the book.

The Reader

The Reader

The Reader was set in Germany, when Kate Winslet, in her thirties, had an affair with a fifteen year old David Kross. The affair lasted a summer and Kate disappeared, carrying her secret. David went on to become a law student and after all these years, he finally met Kate again, albeit on trial for war crimes as a former SS guard.

As the story unfold, Kate's secret began to unravel. It began with David remembering how Kate always loved being read to every time they meet. Her disappearance, her refusal to submit a handwriting proof all boiled down to her pride and shame to cover the fact that she was illiterate. Kate was sentenced to life in prison.

As David journeyed to Auschwitz to witness the horror of the camps, you could vividly sense his turmoil on the train back. How could a woman he loved be a part of this inhumanity, but did it mean he should do nothing and see her punished, just because she wanted to hide her shame?

This was the point when both characters amended the past. David had never forgotten his love for Kate, but his conscience could not forgive her. So David became the reader again. He read to her on tape, book after book.

After twenty years in prison, Kate eventually learned to read and write. I teared up when David received a one sentence letter from Kate telling him about the book, "The lady and the little dog".

The ending was how Kate and David finally chose to face their own worst demon, guilt. The span of over twenty years finally allowed them to forgive each other, forgive themselves and gave a closure to their love affair.

I loved the movie.