SIBLINGS' CORNER
Now here is a page meant especially for the two rascals in the family, namely Lynn and myself. Not that we want to brag and crow about our creative abilities, but we thought that we just wanna share our output with you all and put it to the acid test, your comments...
A Voice In The Wind
This is for teachers everywhere
In a new world brimming with activity/ So many choices, so many challenges/ Armed with the knowledge gained/ We move forward slowly, tentatively/ Like young falcons stretching their wings/ To explore the open frontiers
But behind us/ Follows a shadow of Doubt/ In uncertainty, we tremble/ Will we succeed, or will we falter?/ Will we choose wisely, or will all efforts be in vain?/ So many questions, so few answers/
In the silence, a voice suddenly beckons/ A tiny whisper blowing in the wind/ Gently streaming by/ A comforting ally, a pillar of strength/ Guiding us/ Like a beacon in the dark, rough seas/
In confidence, we move onwards/ Knowing that wherever we go/ Searching the world, claiming our future/ You are with us/ Whenever the wind blows/ We will always hear your name/ 230896
Yeap, yeap, this is the newspaper (Life!) article that I contributed an opinion to, accompanied with a rather generous shot of me with the car...
Didn't think it would be this big, but what the heck... BTW, I've already upgraded to the "black" license, letting go of the probational "red" one...
The Girl Who Wanted To Become Rich And Famous
A story, as published in the Dunman Focus, 1994
"Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" was on the goggle-box. Claudia watched it intently, too engrossed to hear the kettle whistling furiously. It was only after the show ended that her ears picked up the sound and she rushed into the kitchen.
She made herself a cup of Lipton?tea and sat herself down. Claudia then pondered, "Hmmm...How can I relax and enjoy life like those rich and famous people on TV? Those people don't even do half of what I do to get three square meals a day. Yet they can own yachts, mansions... Bleeargh." She sipped her cup of tea slowly, after which she rose and adjourned to the living room again.
Claudia reached for the Straits Times, the only newspaper she subscribed to, and turned it page by page. Normal people would turn to either of three sections first, namely the comics, the editorials or the sports page, but Claudia was different. Her daily ritual was to turn to pages which contained pictures of vehicles involved in accidents and the one that had the 4-D and Toto lottery results. She had been doing that since time immemorial, and had grown desensitized to the morbid images that lay before her eyes with each passing day. Why, there was even a time when she nonchalantly went to take a close look at accident sites herself just to jot down the license plate numbers of the ill-fated vehicles. Her obsession to see her number win the first prize went beyond control. It scared, or rather petrified her mother, who now could be found somewhere along the corridors of Woodbridge Hospital.
"QPR 168E," went Claudia. She knew that the number 168 in Mandarin was an auspicious number, for it sounded like "yilufa" which meant "to prosper". The doomed Mercedes-Benz met its end by swerving into the back of a lorry. The drivers had died instantly. However, Claudia did not give a damn for the welfare of the victims, for all she wanted was the number of the license plate. She had no inclination to spare a thought for the drivers' plights. All she cared about was the number which she felt would soon bring her the fame and good fortune beyond her wildest dreams, to everybody's surprise and great envy.
"Oh, this time, I will win and have lots of money," she muttered to herself ecstatically. She raced to the nearest 4-D outlet. Being her favourite hangout, she could find her way there blindfolded. She bought her number, 0168, and headed for home. While walking, she was oblivious to the traffic as she happily thought of the things she would do after she had won the money. A Toyota Starlet tried to avoid her but unfortunately, it crashed into Claudia and she died almost instantly. The last thing she saw was the license plate number, EZ 1313 F.
Nobody attended her funeral as she had neither friends nor enemies. A week later, the 4-D results were out.
The winning number was 1313...
LOVE
A short poem by Lynn, composed on a misty March morning
We cry when we are sad
We laugh when we are glad
But we throw tantrums when we are mad
Love is also a feeling
To show someone you really care
When it 's hurt, it needs healing
When you are in love, love is in the air
Show love and affection
With full of passion
It is a shy emotion
To be shown with full of expression
Show it with sincerity
Show it from the bottom of your heart
Make sure it lasts till eternity
Make sure you will never be apart
SPEAK SINGLISH, LOR!
An opinion piece, as published in On Cue, TPJC Newsletter 1996
One of the hottest issues ever to be discussed on the lips of Singaporeans and in the pages of local newspapers not long ago was Singlish and its validity as a proper language. Some people think that Singlish is a gross mutation of standard English, while some others think that Singlish is a unique blend of English, an offshoot of a multi-racial heritage such as Singapore's. I believe that Singlish should stay and that we should not hinder its development as a living language.
Singapore is a young country with a history of only about 31 years. During this time, Singlish evolved as a means for all the races to effectively communicate with one another. This has translated into (pun unintended) a long period of peace and prosperity. Compare Singapore with countries such as America and Great Britain, which have much longer histories than Singapore and whose people can be considered as so-called "truly English-speakers". One only has to take a peek at the bloodshed in Northern Ireland and the high levels of violence in the ghettoes of the USA to agree that it is better to speak broken English and enjoy cordial relations with family, friends, and neighbours than to speak standard English and live in fear, not knowing where the next bullet might hit.
Language has to "live" in order to develop. As a language gets passed down with each new generation, it inevitably has to change from its original form to suit the needs and requirements of that generation. Who said that English has to be pure and unadulterated? English spoken in India is different from that spoken in the USA and England. Even English came about as a evolution from the Germanic family of languages and the Indo-European family before that. American writer and philosopher, Henry David Thoreau once said, "When I read of some of the rules for speaking and writing the English language correctly, I think -
Any fool can make a rule
And every fool will mind it"
Singlish is a form of national identity. Just as we have our own cultures, beliefs, varieties of food and traditional dress, why can't we have Singlish? So what if other people lampoon it, and claim their own brand of English as the "right" one? Singlish is part and parcel of being Singaporean, and we have nothing to be ashamed of.
I support the learning and use of proper English as a way of having international relations and doing business with people from other countries. However I also support Singlish as a way of uniting Singaporeans towards bringing a brighter future for Singapore. Anyone who says otherwise, to them I say,
"Wah Lau, how can like that one?"
