The Final word.

He sat there on the brown armchair, staring outside the 7-feet window. He stared at the towering skyscrapers, watching the blazing afternoonsun. He slowly stretched his right arm towards the coffee table on his right, he took his mug, sipped the coffee out of it, he put it back. As he lost his consciousness to the setting sun, his eyes slowly teared, he wiped it away. He gave a soft sigh, his eyelids were getting heavier, he mumbled something; it sounded like "Thank you". He closed his eyes.

***********************

"How was it?" asked Malim. "It was great, I can't believe they actually had it there" replied Robert. Both of them walked out of the bookstore. The mall was awfully crowded this weekend, it’s a long weekend, because Merdeka was on Tuesday, and Monday was being replaced. The floors of the mall, were crowded by teenagers clutching their iPods, lovers clinging to each other, families sticking to together and some elderly carefully counting every step as they walked.

Malim smiled broadly, he is just excited because he had attained his long awaited book about Hitler's hobbies. You see, Malim had a rare passion of war, especially WWII and the French revolutionary war. He walked with best mate, Robert, Robert then walked with Denise. The three of them scurried through the jam-packed lanes.

Parwin tapped his fingers on the table impatiently, he eyes scanned over the immense of people. His eyes caught Robert's, he instantly waved it high. "Where were you guys!?" cried Parwin, "I was sitting here for half-an hour already". "We were held up, sorry, anyway thanks for holding our sit, you said, you didn't want to join us." replied Malim.

Lady Antebellum's Need you now, played suddenly, Robert took out his phone and answered it. His face grew pale.

******************************************************************

Marie was hurrying through the hallways, she stumbled her way through nurse's office, dashed through the blood bank and now was walking with pace to Lab 12, the double-door lab stared at her face, she was getting closer to it, she banged it open.

"Ah, yes, Miss Taylor, I mean Mrs. Sherrod, finally you're here, now we can begin" said Dr. Burhannudin calmly. He told the students to take their sits, he walked over to Marie, whispered to her "They are all yours."

Marie Taylor-Sherrod was a microbiologist, the words Malayan University of Health and Science lingered largely over her head. "All right class, I see Dr. Din have already given you a short briefing on this med school and I suppose, about me too?". The class of 18 stared at her attentively, their faces all full of determination, all future doctors.

Marie continued her speech, she gave a basic introduction on microorganism, their relative discovery and their effect on humankind. She continues talking, while walking up and down the lab-cum-classroom, occasionally asking each students to introduced themselves.

As she was withdrawing out her Pilot Wyteboard Marker, she felt her Nokia vibrating in her pocket. "Excuse me, I've got to take this" she said to her class.

"Yeah, what's up?". These words left her mouth, then suddenly she gasped in shock.

Michael James Taylor, slowly walked his way down the stairs. It was 6.15, he was still in his pyjamas. He walked slowly, hunching a little, towards the kitchen, open the cabinet and took out the bottle of Necafe gold. He poured some of the powder in to his mug: World’s Greatest Grand Dad!. He simmered the coffee for awhile. He took it and laid it on the coffee table and his brown armchair facing the outside world.

The two-storey penthouse was occupied by 5 people. Three generations of the Taylors stayed in this modern 13-million dollar penthouse. Michael, opened the front door, and took the elevator down. The doors slide open, he stepped out it in his black rubber slippers, “Morning, uncle!” shouted Rajvish, the door man. Michael waved at him and walked over to him, resting his arm on the marble counter-top, Rajvish handed to Michael, the daily paper of the Times. Michael, and Rajvish started a conversation, and on this morning it was about last night’s riot in Bangkok over the news.

Marie came down from stairs, “Can’t this old man, ever use a coaster?” She walked into the kitchen, her eyes widened, her dad left the sugar bottle out from the rack. She grumbled to herself, she looked at her watch, 6.57. She was all ready dressed to meet her new batch of students at her med school. She made herself a cup of Nesvita, she walked over to the dining table, she switched on her MacBook, and put on her reading glasses. Tip, tap, tip, tap, her fingers went over the keyboard.

It is now 7, Robert came down, all dressed in a polo t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and a yellow-brown knapsack. Tucked out, he went straight to the kitchen, grabbed a readymade sandwiched from the fridge. He walked over to the living room, threw his bag on the couch and slumped in the opposite couch.

The front door opened, Michael came in, “Morning son. How are you today?” “I’m ok grandpa, you know right, I’m out today, I’ll go to the park with you next week, ok?”. Michael, sighed and softly said to Robert, that he understood.

He went, to the dining room, “Good morning princess”. “Dad, how many times, do I have to tell you to keep the sugar back in the rack? And what were you thinking last night, throwing away, those papers? I needed them, now I have to re-print them, and arrange them all over again with this file!”shouted Marie. Michael knew, that he annoyed his daughter, who asked her to put her papers on that pile of old newspapers?

The phone rang, the clock on the wall showed 7.35. Michael picked it up.

“Hey, dad! Please tell Marie that I won’t be coming home tomorrow, I’ll only come back on Wednesday, it seems the deal can’t be made because of the holidays. Hey, sorry that means I can’t take you out this Tuesday for the Merdeka show, huh, maybe next year?” said the voice on the other end.

Michael understood. His son-in-law was a good man, almost too good, he thought, always finding ways to fill their needs. Never home, always its work, oh well, the life of a chartered accountant. Michael then grabbed the copy of Discovery and his Times and went to his brown armchair.

Patricia opened the front door of the penthouse, she walked in. She looked at the clock on the wall, it was 1.26 pm. She was tired, she looked drained, she creeped in the house. She walked slowly in, “Patricia, is that you?” A voice of an elderly man said. “Yes grandpa, what do you want?” asked Patricia to Michael, she walked over to him. He looked wearily at her, and forced a smile. “You know what I’m tired, and I need to rest, I know what you said last night and I don’t need a lecture from you!” She stomped off to her room.

An hour later, she came out of the room, realizing what she said to her granddad was wrong, she walked over to him. She touched his hand, it was warm but the warmth was gone. She looked at him, his chest wasn’t moving, he was still. “Grandpa?” She taped his arm, gave it a little more jerk, no response. Tears rolled down her eyes, she jumped up from the footstool she was on, took out her phone, dialed her mom Marie, she almost broke down as she was speaking.

“Mom….mom, I th…thi….think grandpa is gone”

Robert stood there looking at the brown arm chair, it was now empty. Then something caught his eye, there was this hand written letter under the Times. He took it, he read it in his heart;

“I know, I haven’t been the best man I could in your lives. I am sorry for the things I have done, I know I am old-fashioned, but I want what is best for this family. I love you all. You all gave me the love I needed. I am sorry if I couldn’t return it. I thank you all.

To my lovely princess, to her knight and to my grandchildren”

Robert sat down on the floor, he started crying. Marie came to his side along with Patricia, the three of them sat together. Gregory Sherrod, too sat with them. This is a moment where the family was together.

Remember, always live for the moment and love everyone, because we will never know when the ones we love will be taken away from us. Appreciate our time, love each other, respect the ones who hate us, care for the ones who abandon us and always show gratitude to the ones who make our day.

20 August 2010

You celebrated your 60th Birthday with your form 5 classmates.

Here is another class essay.

Christopher was awkwardly quiet this time. Usually he was always making conversations about his law firm or about his misbehaving 4-year old son. Even Lily was silent. These kids creeped me. Usually Lily was always singing aloud or maybe even talking about how new ol fields were being found. I sat in the back seat, thinking to myself, I lead a good life, I am 60 tomorrow and I am smiling to myself, a life well spent.

We approached the Veranda Complex a majestic mansion, built over a hundred years ago by the British imperialists. My children were taking me out for lunch, we were to meet their mother, Amanda there. Strangely the gardens of the mansion were quiet, usually it was filled with people, all dressed formally, talking, gossiping and drinking tea. All the snobs. Ironically I was becoming one.

We got out of the car. My son, handed to me my cane, I took it from his archery-saw hand. I looked into his eyes, I saw the eyes of endurance and determination of a young man. I slowly got out of the car; falling off the stairs would not give good results! My daughter led me to the entrance. We walked into the refurnished mansion, there I was, Amanda. Hair white with strands of grey hair, thick half-inch glasses and still elegant just like the 37 years ago. “Bernard, why so down?”, “Where is everyone?”

“Come”.

She led me through the lobby, then we entered the dining hall. It was quiet. The four of us sat at the long table. I at the head. Then suddenly a string quartet came out on the stage and suddenly started playing. Christopher and Lily stood up. Then out of the blue, a group of similar aged people as me was flooding the entire eating hall. My eyes widened, “By good grace! Sharves, Aziz, Jia Sek , and is that Ruth?”

I was dumbfounded, these people were my classmates. We spent our last year in school together. I looked at Amanda:

“Did you do this?”

“Yes, this is for you honey,” she gave a peck on my cheek.

Vasukumar, came up to me, and shook my hand. He smiled, that crooked teeth of his, just as it was 43 years ago. He took the stage and did a toast;

“Friends, here we are together, all once again united, probably for the last time. I thank everyone of you for pulling this off party off. Bernard, we all are here, to celebrate your 60^th birthday to my dear friend, my brother, Happy Birthday!”

There was a loud applause, I found myself speechless. My eyes teared, there were all my friends, it was 2010 when we were in class, all together. This class was superbly special we had all kinds of people in that class, from all walks of life and all kinds of ethnics.

Flashbacks raced through my mind, I remembered, I used to hate that class. Then over the months, we bonded together, I remembered the times when Khairi brought his acoustic guitar during Mr. Shek Kim’s calculus class and also Mrs. Thomas’s physics class and always received a long lecture thereafter.

Suddenly,I was at the other end of the room, laughing my heart out, with my old buddies. The string quartet, still playing in the background, I could see Lily and her friends whose parents were my mates. I saw Amanda, in her white gown talking to my high-school crush- Ruth. I excused myself and went to sit at an empty table. The 64-people filled hall was drowned with laughter, jokes, tears, hugs and sweet reminiscence.

I was sipping my unsweetened lemonade, then all of a sudden I felt a sharp stab in my chest. My hand was clenching my chest. The world spun round, my sight now saw legs, then funny rainbow colours. Then blackness.

“Clear the way!” The E.R. doctor pushed his way through the halls of the hospital. Amanda grabbed Bernard’s hand, walking with pace with the wheeled stretcher, they barged the E.R. room, they performed CPR on the lifeless body, connected wires to it, switched on the CRO, after minutes, that felt like forever, Amanda spotted a little beep on the machine. “He’s safe ma’am, he’ll live” said the doctor.

My eyes were heavy, I forced it open, all around me were balloons. The morning sun shone warmly through the window.

“He is awake!”, the voice sounded like Christopher’s

The room was now packed with people. The doctor came in, “Stay clear, he just had a cardiac arrest, Mr. McGrace you are lucky to survive,”. So I had a heart attack, whoa. There’s a real gift!

“I am 60! Nice, here I am 60 years old in bed right after my first cardiac arrest”. I laid there restless, but strangely talking again with my old 5 Science 2 class. The day went on, we enjoyed ourselves, by my side the entire time my family.

So this is my 60^th birthday.

Vanity in Men (and Women)

Men say Women are vain.

Women say Men are vain.

I say both are correct.

Men, look at them always combing their hair, so concerned about their goatee, frequently adjusting their pants.

Women, look at them always puffing her lips, so focused on her dress, the worst about their figure.

The question is why, are men and women so vain? People are, who isn't vain? Everyone wants to look good, it's animal instinct, the men wants to attract the women, the women wants to strut her beauty. It is nature's work.

The next time you comb yourself in public, go the restroom to 'freshen' up, and to arrange that tie or scarf, think of it, that vanity is part in everyone's life.

Reason I am writing this: the guys in my class always adjusting their shirt, from their pants, there is this one guy who sharpens his sideburns to be sharper then a needle head. Then, there is this girl, who spent almost 1\2 hour, in the bathroom; combing hair.

Chemistry lives on!

We had to carry out an experiment today, to study the heat of displacement between Zinc and Copper II sulphate. So I entered my group and did the experiment as ordered by the teacher. The fact is, when you add Zinc powder to the Copper II Sulphate solution, a little heat will be produced, because Zinc is able to displace Copper form Copper II Sulphate solution, so the experiment was carried out, and we attained a change in temperature of 30C to 39C. A change of 9 Degrees Celcius. By the way, the molarity of the CuSO4 solution was 0.2mol and a volume of 25cm^2.

But what would happen if you were to increase the molarity to say, about 2.0mol and this time instead of using Zinc we use a more reactive metal, say Magnesium?

The results were astonishing!

First the whole reaction turned into a dark grey liquid, the bubbles started to boil up, then thick white smoke was coming out of the cup, and then as the smoke died down, you can see the solution slowly being boiled down to the base eating away the sides of the cup. It was too hot to even put our hands near the cup, what more to take its temperature.

We thought it was going to explode! Well, it did, what if we were to put Potassium? With a CuSO4 molarity of 2.5mol?

The more reason to love Chemistry!

Women make better leaders

Section B

My mother always said : "Without women, there will be no

men." I use to think deep about that, and then, one day, it

finally dawned on me. Women were the soul and

breadwinners of the family. The birth and fall of human

civilisation, and the cause of many great leaders to rule or to

crumble.

If you were to ask me whether women would make better

leaders, with a sigh I would have to say 'Yes'. Yes, women do

make better leaders. They do make better rulers, and they

definitely do better at managing things.

Call me a traitor because I am a man, but I have to admit that

women can lead better than men. History has proven that.

Women can shake the world. I will give you a few examples to

support my stand.

In Greek mythology, Zeus, the king of the gods, had one major

weakness. That was a lust for women. He exploited women,

had too many sexual encounters with them, and this led to his

ultimate downfall.

He was "greedy" for women, and was willing to change

himself into various animal forms, in order to attain the woman

of his intentions. Zeus even once changed himself into a fish

in order to obtain a nymph.

Zeus was so obsessed by women that he even fell for artificial

women - created by Hera, his long suffering wife. He was so

overcome with his lust for other women that he did not care

about the state of affairs of Olympus. This goes to show that

women can even bring down a god.

Next we take a look at the Emperor of Rome, Julius Caesar, the

dictator. He was a brilliant general and tactician. He too was

undone with his passion for the Egyptian Queen Cleopatra.

The Romans never accepted that Caesar stopped short at

conquering Egypt, but instead let Queen Cleopatra reign and

gave her the protection of Rome.

Caesar was murdered because of this "betrayal" of Rome, and

upon his assassination, the Roman Empire marched into

Egypt.

Another lustful man was King Henry VIII. He was not only

lustful but vicious as well, though he was know as the

Defender of the Church.

He had his wife Catherine of Arragon stripped of her titles and

confined to her rooms because he was so enamoured with

Anne Boleyn, and the church did not allow divorce.

King Henry VIII eventually broke away from the church, and his

lust for women was so out of controlled that he had his

knights and advisers murdered just so that he could have their

wives and sisters.

These are examples of women bringing about the downfall of

men.


Now I will name a few women who were better leaders than

men.

The first being Elizabeth I, the daughter of Henry VIII. Though

her father so wanted a son to carry on the dynasty, Elizabeth I

proved to be the greatest monarch England has ever had. It

was under her reign that England became the most powerful

country in the world.

The second was Indira Gandhi. The first and only female

Prime Minister of India, that brought it out of the dark ages.

She brought India from being a major importer of food, to be

become a major exporter of food. She also started the nuclear

program.

Thirdly, there was Margaret Thatcher - the Iron Lady of Great

Britain. She is the only woman to have been the Prime Minister

of the United Kingdom, and the leader of the Conservative

Party. These coups have never been repeated.

All these women had optimism and courage to change the

world for the better.

One might say, women are too emotional and soft hearted. Not

strong physically enough to carry heavy loads. But who do

we turn to when we need advice and comfort? Who do we

trust more? Who always has the willpower to be successful?

Who is the ever present cheerleader encouraging you on?

The answer: Your mother.

Yes, the woman who has been with you since the moment you

were born. The one who held your hand when you wanted to

walk. The one who was the first to help you up when you fell.

That woman is your mother.

Mothers lead gently, quietly. Always making us feel like it was

our idea, and never once taking credit for all the good that we

eventually accomplish.

Patience, wisdom, compassion, courage, humility, strength -

those are the traits of a leader, and most women have these

inborn.

Ask most influential people why they are a success, and they

will definitely tell you how their mothers guided them, and were

firm with their goals.

They will tell you how, even though in poverty, their mothers

would somehow work and find the money and pay for their

education. Some of these mothers have even got awards for

bringing up the children single-handedly and making

successes of their lives.

A woman is able to comfort you and give you strength. She

has the ability to calm you down, and give you encouragement

to try again when you are at your worse. She will make you

believe in yourself even when no one else believes in you. A

woman can touch a man's life.

There will always be the proverbial debate on a woman's

emotions being an obstruction to being a good leader. But

emotions sometimes make us more human, and we are able to

see things more subjectively rather then objectively.

Women are more optimistic than men and they are able to

withstand greater amounts of pressure and pain. As the

renown self-help guru, Dr Phil once put it, "men see with their

eyes, women see with their heart."

Yes history has it that men are more capable of ruling the

country, and have contributed more to mankind. However,

read the fine print, behind those men, have been women.

If women were to dictate with tyranny, there will do it much

worse than a man, and if a woman were to counsel a weeping

child, she would pour her heart and soul into it.

So, like I said, call me a traitor to my fellow brothers, but I still

stand firm that women do make better leaders, for too many

times have girls moved me more than any of my "brothers"

can.

A very big thank you to my mom, who helped to perfect the essay. This essay was my answer for my mid-term examination English paper.

Task night.

I sat there on the bench, alone watching lovers clenching their hands tightly as they strolled past me. I noticed that too many of them are having a good time, but how many actually will last. I spoke to myself and said that with the rate of people divorcing these days, I really think that these guys wouldn't last long at all. But who am I to judge?

I took a look at my watch- 9.34. I'm late. The second hand just keeps ticking. I now stared right infront of me, wandering to myself, whether is this the right thing to do. I waited long enough for them to bring it now that they have brought it, I'm lost, in a dilemma.

I got up. Stretched my right arm, tighten my jacket and strode off. As I slowly strolled along the cemented path in the park. I caught a glimpse of a black tall figure approaching. My mind focused. He came towards me, put out his left hand and said "Sir, it is all done." I smiled, and shook his hand, I used my left arm to grab an envelope in my jacket pocket, I gave it to him. He walked off, saying nothing more.

9.47, damn. Is it too late? Nevermind, I hurried my steps to the end of the path, looked to my right and left, then crossed the road. I entered the pathway, this time lighted with fluorescent lights and neon bulbs. I walked closely to the inner path and finally came to my destination and entered via the entrance of Roland's.

Roland's is a family eatery. You can here country music playing in the background, and the sound of chips being deep fried. I walked in, scanning my surrounding , and then took a seat for a table of 4.

"Whaddya' want honey?" The waitress asked me. I said just to hand me a cup of iced water. Then suddenly a man, dressed in a sport coat, with a thin mustache sat opposite me. "I waited for an hour. Where were you?" he said with his low aged voice. He handed me a file, read "Confidential".

I slowly carefully opened it. In there I saw what I needed, no wanted to see. My drink came. I asked him "Is this all?". He gave a nod. I scanned the numbers on the paper, looking at it, studying it. Then I gave my right hand, he shook it and got off.

That's it, as dreadful as I may feel, I finally have all the codes that I wanted. Every password to the every account in that university. All is now mine. Finally I can regain access to the university, after years of torment, this is now the time for payback.

I dropped 50 cents on the table and got up, I straighten my cap and headed to the exit. "Alan McCoy!?," I turned around, damn. This is not going to be good.

A Monstrosity of Paperbacks and Hardcovers.

Waking in the morning at 6 can be tiring if one is on a holiday break. After eating Tosai and Puri at an Indian stall along Queen's street is rather replenishing. Walking endlessly; up and down the streets of Chowrastar and it finally gave its very best to me. Walking in the stench filled complex of dead meat, listening to the shouts of busy butchers accompanied by the sound of their sharp blade going down on the raw stricken meat; I found a flight of stairs. I climbed it up, crossing a beggar sleeping, I walked up and found all the shops close, except for this little chinese man selling clothes. A sign caught my eye instantly: "Old and Secondhand Books". My heart raced immediately. I turned to look and to my surprise there was only one shop open. I walked towards it, the Mamak owner gave a wry smile. I found myself a little tipsy. The mammoth stacks of books drowned the entire place. I dropped my bag of corn, and popiah skin and immediately started to browse the books.

Sweat poring down my nose. Drops of it, fall to the 40-year old chemistry text book. Later I grabbed a book entitled "General Physics", I gave the mamak. Then I asked for some comics. He brought out a stack of them; my eyes teared for I have never seen such old elegant comics before. Browsing my hand through issues of Flash Gordon and War Machine made my heart melt.

The almost endless rows of book is really touching. The amou

nt of knowledge that little store held was like a used library. The smell, of aging books, and the colour of faded pages is exquisite. I am grateful for such an experience, because I love to look at books. Read them, and sometimes not able to understand them because of the complex language. That what makes the mind grow, grow with imagination and grow with intellectualism.