On the subject of money..

I came upon a brilliant song in this beginner's piano music book when I started learning a couple of years back. It has a very kiddie melody but it's its lyrics that I want to talk about.

The name of the song is called "Money Isn't Everything". It's true. It's a line we hear everyone bring up all the time, whilst acting all self-righteous. Money isn't everything. I thought the same way too for a while until I read the following:


"
Money isn't everything,
Money can't make you a king,
Money cannot bring success,
Money can't buy happiness.

But of one thing I am sure,
Money doesn't make you poor,
Money doesn't make you sad,
Money can't be all that bad!

"


Truer words have never been spoken..

My Job >>>>> Yours, to be fair..

You:

Really? Pfft, I really don't think so. I get paid everyday to sort out my client's accounts/invest some other rich guy's money/work some machinery in the factory/do some sales/"market" my company's product/etc. and I think it's a highly rewarding experience.

What do you do that is so great? Find cures for cancer?


Me:

Why, yes, that's what i do actually...

I Have Always Hated..

.. chemistry with a passion. It stemmed from my disinterest of the subject during my SPM days and the disgust grew throughout the years as I forgot whatever good that it offered then and only the bad memories remained. The subject comes third on my list of things I despise behind self-given English names and fat pork in Bak Kut Teh.


I made it a point to not take Chemistry during A-levels and did not regret my decision one bit as I watched my friends toil through the lab sessions and open book exams. During my undergraduate years, I was absolutely horrified to find some chemistry-esque chapters in Thermodynamics. Only 3 months ago, just the very thought of the table of elements nauseates me.


Just as well then that at this very moment, I'm sitting here typing this with an SPM Chemistry reference book I borrowed off my sister in front of me; about to brush off the cobwebs and shake the rust off my Chem knowledge as I'm doing my PhD on a project that involves the study of homogeneous reactions under the effect of ultrasound waves. In a word, sonochemistry.


And, wait for it, I think I'm actually starting to like this shit.



You win, Universe, you win...

It's A Cliche For A Reason..

"Never say never"


One of the most used to death sayings I have ever heard yet it rings so true right now.


Back in May, when I submitted my examination answer sheet for the last time, I never thought I'd be going back to " Nottingham Semenyih" again. I never had an affinity to the place. I never had a sense of belonging. I couldn't wait to get out of there. I was offered a chance to do a PhD by my project supervisor. I entertained him for a bit then rejected the proposal politely. I was convinced I wasn't going to spend 3 years studying again after close to 14 years of academic nightmares. Especially not in Semenyih, the Hell on Earth if there ever was one.


So it makes perfect sense that in about a week from now, I'll be spending another 3 years of my miserable life there doing my PhD. Life just has a way of making you look stupid.


6 months ago, I was telling everyone and anyone who would listen that I was going to get a job, climb the ladder, go for an MBA, make it big, strike gold, hit a seven figure annual income, throw it all into a sure-fire investment plan, retire early, get an executive box at Old Trafford, and party until it's time to go.


The main problem with that plan was the first step, getting a job. Somehow, what should seem like a fairly painless process became very complicated. Partly because I had a look at the job market and I really didn't know what the heck I was going to do!


A look at some of the options:


Industrial Engineer, Applications Engineer, the general Mechanical Engineer etc; all either have job scopes of a glorified technician or involve procurement of materials which can get incredibly boring. That's the reality of being a mechanical engineering graduate in Malaysia. The glamorous machinery design jobs are close to non-existent here.


Investment banking is not my thing either, and the newspapers would have you believe that it's suicide to go into that line in the current economic climate. Sales and event management is definitely out of the question as well. I had an eye on management consultancy for a while but it's ridiculously difficult to get into and I have a hunch it isn't as glamorous as it's made out to be anyway.


I'm not thick. Of course, I realize that I'm way too picky for a fresh graduate, not a very stellar one at that. It's just that I became so confused as to what my path ahead should be. I was too afraid of taking the wrong step. I was petrified of becoming mediocre. More importantly, deep down, I know I just do not have an interest for the aforementioned professions.


It's arguable that I'm judging my interest on something I haven't even tried. Again, I was afraid of taking the plunge and then realizing it was a big waste of time. The ironic thing was, my indecision in itself became a huge time-waster.


And so, in the end, I decided to do a PhD. I'm not doing this without having put some thought into it though. I am aware that it's not a ticket to the big time. I know that I risk being overqualified when I go into the "real world". I know it can be a very frustrating and demanding course.


The ultimate factor that convinced me to go down this route was that of all the options that was laid out before me, this was the one that I truly felt I could "love", that would be worth investing my time on. To sensationalize it a little, it does offer an opportunity to make a meaningful contribution to the world, doesn't it? In 3.5 years, I could either be feeling miserable working a 9-to-5 job or I could be feeling miserable trying to make an important scientific discovery. Not saying that I would, just saying that I could.


And from then on? Well, I want to give management consulting a shot, assuming I am deemed worthy of joining the snobbish elites. Another option is to go into academia and continue any research work that was done during the PhD course. We'll see where this leads to. I'm definitely not ruling anything out though. The past 6 months have taught me better!

Maybe We're Trying, Trying Too Haaaard....

There's this song that is on rotation on Hitz.fm that I've been tapping my feet to. It's a very Snow Patrol type song called "Empty". Snow Patrol songs all have these certain progression to them. The songs starts slow and builds up to a huge climax, complete with strings and high pitch vocals. And you know what, I'm a sucker for formulaic feel-good songs.

So yeah, I've been strumming my guitar to the song and attempting to sing it and I have to admit it's a really catchy song.

I never really got the full lyrics sheet though and since I don't know the band that sings the song, I turned to my trusty friend, Google for some answers.


Imagine my horror when I found out which band actually plays the song.


The Click Five!! Oh, the humanity! The Click Five?! I've been singing to a song by The Click "pop band, fake rock stars wannabe, emo teenagers' poster boys" Five?!


It's like beating off to a topless chick only to find out it's a dude! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to lie down for a while...








.

.............................

It was Friday the 13th, July 2007. I never believed in superstitions and I saw no reason to this time. She would pull through, just like she's done countless times in the past. Right?


I was in Penang at the time, working for one of Castrol's roadshows in one of the malls. On the way to Penang the day before, I stumbled into my cousins at one of the rest stops. They told me they were going to visit my grandmother at the Ipoh Hospital.


You should, I told them, we visited her last week and she was very frail. I told them I wasn't going this time because I had to work. They told me I should go. It was different this time. She was very sick.



It never really occured to me how serious "very sick" actually was until that night, my mother told me that the doctor said she is in very serious condition and I should make preparations to go to Ipoh if needs be. It's going to sound sickening and to be very frank, I have never forgiven myself for this but I was actually very pissed off upon hearing that.


I couldn't possibly go off then. I have already promised the organizers that I would be working there. It's RM220 a day! Heck, I already was in Penang. I have obligations to fulfil. And I was right, I did. And it had nothing whatsoever to do with promoting engine lubricants.



The next morning, while the team and I were at the mall, just an hour before the event started, my mother rang. I knew immediately what she was going to say. Her voice was shaking as she said, and I remember the tone of every single syllable even until today, " Chee Meng, ah ma isn't going to make it. You have to come now."



All the frustrations of having to walk off a job just washed away then. I knew what had to be done and I let the organizers know what was going on. My agent wasn't so forgiving. She was pissed that I had to go at the eleventh hour. The old "grandmother is sick" excuse. I would have laughed out loud if the pain wasn't so real.



My cousin's girlfriend who was in Penang drove to the mall to pick me up and we sped down the highway to Ipoh as fast as we could. Even then, the mood in the car was light. I was almost expectant that she would pull through. Just like she always does. Just like my grandfather did.



I never got to say goodbye. It was very cruel and it hurt so bad. My cousin rang his girlfriend and she passed the phone to me. "Chee Meng, ah ma's gone," as he burst into tears, he couldn't compose himself to string words together. "Come quickly, okay?" was the last phrase he could choke out before he hung up.



I was in shock, but only for a few seconds, and then I wept and I never stopped until I reached the hospital. The pain was so intense. I have never experienced a death of a closed one until then but on hindsight, that was not the real reason I cried.



We were so close when I was young. She used to come over from Perak all the time. She loved Bollywood movies and I watched them with her. It was the only time I would sit down and watch a Hindi movie. She would sit me on her lap and just tell me about everything, about my dad, about her, everything and anything. Laughters all round.


Raking a big piece of fish off its bones and landing it on my plate. "Ewww, ah ma, got your saliva," I would tell her. She has that laugh that is just so cheerful. And she had the tendency to speak to me in Teochew, a dialect I don't understand, and I would just nod knowingly as if I understood every word. Even only recently, I remember very distinctly her happy face as she teased ,"Where's your girlfriend? Never bring her to see me?"


We were so close then and when she passed away, it really hit me. How did I allow us to drift apart so much? Even when I was in Perak, as I grew up, family gradually came second behind studies, friends and games. I rarely spoke to her when I went back, besides the routine greetings and the "Have you eaten?"'s.


And that was why I cried. I was frustrated. I was so stupid. I spent a lot less time with my extended family as I grew up, distancing myself from them even. I hated going back. It was boring. I have never had a chat with her in years. Never had a chance to really ask her how was life. And now, I will never get a chance to redeem myself. She's gone. That was why I cried.


This post had been sitting in the drafts folder for months now. I could never bring myself to finish it. I would break down every time. I hated myself. I hate myself. Very much. For being angry at having to leave a lousy job to see her. As a direct consequence, I never got to say goodbye. I never got to see her one last time. Never got to hold her hand while she was still breathing. Never had the chance to say ,"Ah ma, please don't go. I love you." Because I was in Penang, hundreds of kilometers away. Promoting engine fucking lubricant.



Life is so fragile and it's very, very unforgiving. After my grandmother's passing, I started to look around more. I started to see the wrinkles on my parents face and my father's whitening moustache. I tried to spend more time with my grandfather. Everyone has to go some time, you always hear, but it didn't lessen the pain one bit. My resolution for 2008 is to devote more time to family. I am very determined not to make the same mistake again.



But nothing I can do from now on will ever bring her back. I heard my maternal grandmother speak of her a few weeks back about the time they went to China together. She had a lot of fun. She told my maternal grandmother she may not be able to go out as often anymore because of her health. That was her last overseas trip, my maternal grandmother told me, as she passed away soon after.


I dreamt of her numerous times after she passed away, and each time my subconscious reaction was to hug her and cry uncontrollably and tell her I am sorry for not spending enough time with her. I would wake up and feel destroyed. I see my family members going about their lives like they've moved on but truth be told, I never did. I think of her constantly.



Ah Ma, if you're reading this right now, wherever you are, I just want to say that I am sorry and I miss you so much. So so much and this is the truth, I would give anything just to see and hold you again. I love you.






CM: March 25, 2008.

Here's a Suggestion...

..... Look out the window or just stare into space.


Take a deep breath. Think of nothing else but of the air filling up your lungs.


Exhale.




Yeah, I know. Life is good, right?