To Be Famous in Death.

Lux Narayan and I share the same weird habit of ‘liking’ to read the obituaries. Although I don’t read the newspaper that much. But when I do, I make sure to read the obituaries.  I mean, it’s why their families put it there right? For people to be informed of their beloved’s passing.

Anyway, Lux Narayan sought out to find what these obituaries have in common. He ended up examining two thousand of them. Watch the video to find out.

At the end of his TED Talk, he says:

If more people lived their lives trying to be famous in death, the world would be a much better place.

As cliche as it may sound, it is a true phrase.

When you die, you would want people to remember you were someone who was amazing or talented or kind. Nobody wants to dissed at when they die, even though they’re not alive to hear it.

Death is a real thing. You can’t resurrect yourself. When you die, you only leave one thing to the people who knew you. And that is memories of you.

Work hard to make those memories a sweet one.

One that would make the people who knew you cry and smile at the same time.

 

Advertisements

Happy International Women’s Day!

gaelle-marcel-206893.jpgHappy International Women’s Day to all!

While there is still struggle for women’s rights, I think we can all say that the society’s attitude towards working women has changed a lot, positively.

With that said, I’d like to share a story of my own.

Continue reading “Happy International Women’s Day!”

Memory.

sonja-langford-314.jpg2 years old. Walked around the house. It was my sister’s birthday and we had neighbours and friends come over to celebrate. I walked over to my father who was sitting on a chair. He fed me with a spoonful of noodles.

4 years old. We were at the supermarket, shopping. I was touching a bunch of things and the next thing I remember was getting my hands yanked and getting scolded. “She touched it!” My sister screamed. On the drive home, I wanted to eat chocolate but was denied. When we got home my hands were washed with mud. When I was older, I was told I touched pork.

6 years old. My sister and I were playing near the small hill at our neighbourhood. Skates and scooters were the rage at the time. I watched as she went down the hill using the scooter so fast and drifted as she hit the brake. I tried it next. I almost face-planted to the gravel.

9 years old. I was at school. The teacher gave our math tests back. I got mine and my mark was lower than my friend’s. The teacher pulled my baby hair and scolded me about my bad marks. My friend laughed at me.

10 years old. My brother bought a new game. The Sims. My sister and I played it like a maniac. We were so obsessed with it. (We still do.)

12 years old. My class was performing in front of the school for the weekly assembly. We prepared for the choral speaking for weeks. There was one part we made fun of our teacher’s signature ‘Aiyoo’ when we don’t understand what she’s teaching us. The whole school laughed.

14 years old. My friends and I performed in front of the class for our teacher’s birthday. I realised the whole class had a WTF face when my friends and I were singing. My friends kept singing and I was miming. I was trying hard not to laugh.

15 years old. Class camping at my house in the ‘middle of nowhere’. We were eating barbequed sausages and chicken wings in the family room. Then we all watched a soap opera on the television. A friend of mine was listening to her radio in the kitchen.

17 years old. Just finished the major exam in every 17-year old’s life in my country. I went home and slept the shit out of myself. Wake up, eat, surfed the web, sleep. This went on for the next 6 months.

19 years old. My friend (also my roommate) and I were running to her car in the middle of the night to hide her portable stove. There was a rumour about a room inspection by the warden (we were not allowed to cook inside our dorm rooms). We went back to our room. I couldn’t sleep for the next hour because of the adrenaline from running.

2o years old. I just lost my cat. I was sitting in front of its lifeless body when my dad came home and saw me sitting on the floor, sobbing. He sat next to me as we said our goodbyes quietly to our cat.

21 years old. Got my first job. It sucked.

22 years old this year. I wonder what kind of memories I will make.

Two Boys.

 

himesh-behera-202813
Credit: Himesh Behera

The other day I drove my mother to the bank. I had to wait in the car because there wasn’t any parking available. I was minding my own business, singing along to the Ed Sheeran song playing on the radio when something caught my eye.

I was parked near a garbage centre and there they were, two little boys, playing with the trash. They were running and jumping around scouring the dumpster for something. I was quite confused to see these two boys, well dressed and also looked well fed. I looked as they made a bed frame into a slide. They placed plastic bags full of trash from the dumpster under the bed frame to angle it at a certain degree so they could slide down. A man walked past them and they hid for a moment waiting for him to walk away and then they’d start playing again.

I watched them as they play until my mother arrived and we drove away.

I didn’t know what to feel. Was it anger towards the parents? Was it sympathy towards the kids? Was it sadness?

I shouldn’t judge. Maybe they were just playing there because they were bored. I imagine the faces of their parents when they see the mess they had made. But what if they were unfortunate children born into a poor family? It was such a hard scene to witness but their laughter and smile were so genuine. They were happy.

I know. In other third world countries, there are scenes much heartbreaking than this one. Poverty is a horrible thing and we should all give a hand in helping these people.

One thing for sure, I’m amazed at how smart they were. They had an idea to build something from scraps.

I sincerely hope these kids will grow up to be successful and in return, give a better life to their family. Engineers or architects maybe. May God bless their souls.

An Afternoon at the Cafe.

 

seemi-samuel-15564.jpg
Credit: Seemi Samuel

 

If we were having coffee right now, I will ask you how you’re doing. You’ll tell me you’re doing fine. Both of us will look down on our drinks. I will sip mine and you’ll cough, even though you don’t really need to.

You will look at me, but my eyes are looking some place else. Then, I will look at you, but you are looking at the waiter coming towards our table.

We will give him our orders, I will thank him and you will give him a smile. When he leaves, you will ask me what is going on with my life. I will answer, but only a masked truth. I will put up a facade I want you to believe because the truth is something you don’t want to hear.

And you will nod. Accepting the white lie. You do not question it. And then I will ask you about yours. You will say you’re doing well with your job but only barely. And we will laugh.

And then silence.

We both realise how much we miss each other. Denying the fact that we’ve drifted too far apart. I need to try, we both say in our minds.

You don’t know me and I don’t know you.

Where did it all go wrong?

Unknown Luxuries.

rouwhmswmp0-nathalia-bariani.jpg

There are some things in life that you won’t be able to feel.

For me, it’s the love from a grandparent.

Earlier this week I wrote about life regrets from 1oo-year-olds. It made me regret something I don’t have the power to change.

Spending time with a grandparent.

Both grandparents from my mother’s and father’s side have passed away. Way before I was born and before I was able to make a memory in my brain.

It’s unfortunate, yes. I know of them but they never knew me. At least, in this mortal world.

I wish I had the chance to hear their stories about the past: about the war, about hunting, about their parents, about my mother, about my father, about living in poverty, about their views on today’s modern technology, etc.

When I see my mother playing with my niece, I think of the relationship I could have had with my own grandmother.

Still, I can’t. It’s a luxury I wasn’t able to feel.

Favourite Things…

Music that makes me dance. Making my friends smile. Chocolate everything. Sitting on the bed, snuggled up reading a book. Playtime with my little nieces and hearing them laugh. Pages after pages of written words from my mind. Hours of crafting a drawing. Waking up to rainy mornings. Singing in the car with friends. Cats. Kittens. Listening to my mum laugh. Cooking a meal for my family. Watching a good movie. Playing the ukulele. Playing the guitar.

These are a few of my favourite things.


You’d think that happiness is complicated and expensive. But when you really pay attention, you can find happiness is simple and it’s abundant in our everyday lives.

Sure, an all-expense paid trip to London would make me a very, very happy girl. But I’m pretty content chatting up with a couple of friends in a cafe, listening to good music.

On another note, I haven’t listened to this song in years. Surely everyone knows this song, right?

Happy Thursday, everyone.