Tsunami: Where were you and what were you doing?

Sunday 8 am Malaysian time on the island of Penang, Malaysia.

Tsunami was not a word that many Malaysians would care about but from 26th December 2004 onwards it was on every Malaysian's lips and thoughts. We were definitely fortunate as compared to the other countries like Indonesia, Sri Lanka and Thailand. Malaysia did not bear the brunt of the earthquake although being quite close to the epicentre of the quake.

I remembered that day very well. It will remain clearly in my mind for the rest of my days. I want to share with you out there, wherever you are, whoever you are what happened on that day and the days that followed.

As usual I got up at around 8 in the morning and went about my routine. Read newspaper, hang up the washings and prepared to go to church. Busy getting all these things done before going to church I did not feel any tremors of the earthquake. But other members of my family did. Not realising it was an earthquake tremor because the quaking were ever so slight, no one said or mentioned anything.

Later, the events that happened slowly began to unfold as the hours passed. The following days of vigil in front of the television set were intense. The news were sad and heart wrenching as we saw visuals of the devastation on the television. Slowly the tide of shock subsided. Time healed as the world gathered together to help. But this episode will be forever etched in the memory of us all who were affected directly or indirectly by this catastrophe in this part of our world.

Much later the whole aftermath of the catastrophe unfolded before our eyes as we stayed glued to the T.V. for the latest updates. The whole world stood at attention the next few days as the impact of the disaster seeped through the media. The pictures taken of the tsunami and its effects on the affected areas were worth a thousand words. No amount of words can prepare anyone for the devastation before our very eyes. We can only imagine what those people went through. The trauma of seeing the huge tsunami heading towards their direction and their only hope is to run and pray that their legs were fast enough. As they ran they heard the roar and the huge crash of the giant wave. Is it safe to turn and look? Screaming, yelling and crying all around. Where was the woman running just behind? Turning back and seeing people, children helplessly being pulled away into the sea. Bobbing up and down as they try to struggle to the shore, hands raised and then they were gone. The ferocious wave began to subside and as if appeased with the many flesh it had swallow the sea receded like a satisfied giant after a meal the foamy waves wanted to be calm and peaceful again. But it cannot be calm and peaceful yet. Again it came as another heavy swell turned into an humongous roaring wave, rolling in for further destruction.

We said a prayer for those lives affected and hoped that humanity will look to the hope that's in our midst. Let our eyes be opened to what's important because life is so fleeting and short.

Lack Of Knowledge

To lose something because of the lack of knowledge is a very sad thing. To lose a life, to lose a limb, to lose something that cannot be replaced is so sad especially when it's preventable. When it's common knowledge that was required to prevent it in the first place.

Why? Why did it happen? The age-old question echoes almost unceasingly throughout the ages. Why me? What did I do wrong?

It is always too late when the question is answered because the question was asked after the fact. After the tragedy has occurred then comes the question and then the answer. The only thing is to learn from it. But do we? It seems that since time immemorial we cannot learn and the cycle goes on again. On and on from here to eternity. God help us.

As a song goes, 'When will we ever learn?'

What am I talking about? It's so simple. Let those who have ears let them hear. Let those who have eyes let them see. The child in the front seat of the automobile without a baby seat or any seat belts on. The child on the mother's lap seating on the front seat of an automobile. Do these parents and grown-ups profess to love their children? Oh yes, without a doubt, they'd even die for them but they did not think for them.

How sad when the only explanation after some tragedy has happened is, 'I did not think. I did not know.'

'I'm sorry, mama, papa. I'm sorry that you didn't know. I'm sorry you didn't think. I wish you'd had thought. I wish you'd had known. Now I hope you'd had learnt and you'd think and know when my sister or brother is with you.

'Bye, bye, mama, papa. I forgive you because you didn't think and didn't know. I hope that it will not happen to sister or brother the way it happened to me.'

Do What Is Not Easy

Where is the greatness in doing what comes naturally? The greatest joy and satisfaction is doing something that is totally out of character and out of sync with the natural but is utterly right and correct to do. Something which you want to do but have to will yourself gives a greater satisfaction when having accomplished and achieved that aspiration.

Totally bland and boring would be doing what comes naturally. It takes no effort and there’s no challenge at all to doing what comes naturally. It’s routine and mundane at some point even. But after struggling, striving, maybe with much discipline and self-control the success in the end will taste very sweet and satisfying.

So it is with writing. After weeks, maybe months, hopefully not years, of writing blocks; meeting dead ends (not deadlines, sadly) at every turn I am now enjoying the exhilarating thrill of marching forth to what I’ve previously considered unnaturally for me. Therefore, after having experienced this extreme high (of which I had experienced before at certain intervals in my writing life which is few and far between, sad to say) I am aiming to make what is unnatural for me natural. Thus, doing so will advance my writing dream.

"It was a high counsel that I once heard given to a young
person, "Always do what you are afraid to do. "
-- Ralph Waldo Emerson, author and philosopher

Almost Derailed Again

It’s so strange, isn’t it? Every time I try to write I’m filled with longing to play games. The conscious side of me wants to run away and it’s always to want fun, play games with the computer. It never fails. I’ve never noticed it before until now. The yearning is so overwhelming that I can literally feel my heart pound and I just want to get away rather than face thinking up words or scenes. Why is that?

I love writing. When I’m not in front of the computer I can’t wait to get to it. I’d get the feeling of such excitement just thinking what a wonderful time I’d have pounding the keyboard, churning out words. Then, when I’m in front of the computer I’d think of something else to do with the computer like checking emails, checking search engines and you-name-it-I’ve-tried-it on the Net except write. Woe is me. Woe is me. I do the very thing I don’t want to do and I don’t do the thing I want to do.

The only way to rid of this menace and hindrance to my writing is to just ignore the fear. Ignore the cold sweaty palms, the mad hammering in my heart to run away from the task at hand and just pound the keyboard with whatever that is in my head at that very moment. That’s the way to beat it. Write the fear. Write it away even if the writing comes out is useless to anyone. The purpose is to start the engine even it the engine is hard of starting. Even though the engine screams in protest cranked it anyway. Turn the ignition anyway no matter how painful and how loud it coughs and screams in objection.

Will it work? I hope so. I'll fill you in on my progress. Now there's a story I must finish. I have it in my head and I've to get it out in words somehow. Yeah, that's it. Just do it. Ignore the fear, the cold sweaty palms already developing and waiting to burst out. Must maintain composure. Stay with it. Stay with it. On to battle, brave heart.

Stay Focused

"The life that conquers is the life that moves with a steady resolution and persistence toward a predetermined goal. Those who succeed are those who have thoroughly learned the immense importance of plan in life, and the tragic brevity of time."-- W.J. Davison

Staying focused is something I find difficult to do sometimes. As anyone can tell you, life don't always come nicely packed and orderly. Life deals situations as it is, all jumbled up and we have to sort it out, keep some things, throw some away and some needs extra work and touch up before they can be used. Therefore, the package I started out or those in the beginning do not get finished if I don't stay focused and come back to work on them.

Projects lay about unfinished while I'd busy myself with projects and more projects that keep coming until I'm buried in them. I've resolved to not let that happen. I'm staying focused and will not get too distracted. I'm blogging them here so I'll not let them disappear or die.

Care to join me?

What Makes a Writer a Writer?

What makes a writer a writer? That is a very important question for anyone who aspires to be a writer. I'm sure the answer will as diverse as there are writers. Each writer will have to answer it for himself or herself. For me it is very simple. A writer is a writer when he/she writes. Don't call yourself a writer when you don't write. A writer will most definitely write and read. The more the writer writes, the more the writer will want to read and the more he/she reads the more he/she will want to write. Write, read. Read, write. One cannot do without the other when one is a writer. So, for me the answer can be summarize into two words. A writer is a writer when he/she writes and reads.

Yesterday I did precisely that along with every day mundanes of life. I wrote, slept, read, and the other things all ordinary human do that I will spare the detailed account in this blog. Also, for the reason of plain etiquette that I will leave it to the imagination of those who have the misfortune of stopping by my blog. Anyway, may you be spared that upset stomach that next time you stop by. Ciao, cheerio, and whatever.

After having said that I must add though that sometimes writers do this too --

Many people hear voices when no one is there. Some of them are called mad and are shut up in rooms where they stare at the walls all day. Others are called writers and they do pretty much the same thing.

Margaret Chittenden -Writer

Sigh... what a wonderful life ; )

One Inspirational Minute

Hello,

For one inspirational minute, what can one write? Well, it actually depends on how good a writer you are or in this case, how good a writer I am. Good or not, is actually so relative. Some like it hot and some like it cold, preferences can be so preferential, you know. So, like it or not, it really depends on the person reading. As a writer and the author of this blog, I write what pleases me. Afterall, the writer is me and the publisher is me. So, it doesn't really matter whether you, the reader like what you read here. However, I would be interested to know what you, the reader, think of what I write. Although I'd like to state here at the outset that even though I might consider your opinions I might not necessarily change my writing.

My one inspirational minute is up. Thank you for reading.