The singer in a bar......

This guys walks into the bar, looks like every other ordinary guy on the street, mid 40s, wearing a spectacles, dangling a guitar around his back except for one minor detail - he suffered from polio and he walked with a pair crutches.

His name is Frankie. He was tonight's singer at the bar.

I was having a quiet usual drink by myself for the weekend like I always do - a usual practice for me to recollect myself and get my own me time. And no, I am not an alchoholic.

Unfortunately, the bar wasn't so quiet tonight. Probably the eve of Malaysia's independence day so it gave many citizens license to drink on a Sunday night without having to worry about having to wake up with a hangover on a Monday morning since it is going to holiday tomorrow.

While I was assuming my drinks for the night just enjoying the time for myself, Frankie was setting up his music equipment. I saw him doing some test strums on his guitar, some mic test. When he was finally satisfied with the sound system, he started singing.

He sang songs from the good old times - The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel, Words by the Bee Gees, My Father's Eyes by Eric Clapton. Those songs were not my type of songs but I found those songs pretty soothing.

There were some old folks who even walked up to Frankie to make some requests for the night.

As Frankie sang for the night, I was simply wondering what he actually did for a living. I mean did he really sing for a living or was it something he did because he loved doing it? Was he one of those who never got a break at singing professionally?

I couldn't help but think why is this guy a bar singer. Most people at his age would already be quite well off financially and happy with a family.

But Frankie had something many of us don't have. As much as the fact that he probably didn't get much as a bar singer, he seemed happy singing. So, while he was singing, I took a look around the bar and realised at least half of the patrons there didn't really bother much about his singing.

Another point that stood out about him was the fact that he was being himself. Not the corporate look good do-gooder that most of us are forced to portray due to contractual obligations imposed on us. Half the bar couldn't care less about his singing or what he was singing but he kept on going. Personally, I think I'd lose my motivation if no one listened to my singing (not that I am trying to imply that my singing is good).

I think it is important for all of us to remember that we should be ourselves. Many of us out there are not who we are. I fall in the trap all the time! Trying to be who we are not, wearing a mask everytime we out there working or meeting people.

Someday you will notice that not being yourself is tiring because you find that you are always acting and putting on a show. You'll never be happy and you'll fill unfilfilled in life. Another thing, you'll feel very demotivated because you'll realise no matter how good a show you put up, like Frankie, half the world or more couldn't care less about it...............

one of those things in life~

Rain...... that's what most of us in this part of Malaysia has been facing for the past four days.

"I hate blasted rains", those were the thoughts of Paul. The rain reminds him of the time his father passed away 3 years ago. It was a tough reality of life he had to accept. His father was his only family after his mother left the family when he was only 3 years of age.

The rains only reminded him of how painful it was to lose his only family and how much he hated his mother who left the family because his father's business did not do well. His father told him his mother passed away when he was a baby. Paul found out the painful truth after he read his father's diary he found while clearing his father's room after his father passed away. Strangely, his father never blamed his mother for leaving, and still wrote about how much he loved her.

Paul never truly understood his father's feelings for his heartless mother.

He pretty much spent his childhood in his father's office - their only home. His father was close to being broke, the office was their home, tables became their bed at night and newspaper became their blanket when it got cold at night. Paul's father was trying to run a business supplying printing paper to offices.

Competition was tough, business was so slow, expenditure simply overran income. Two years in the business and they were at the brink of financial oblivion. That's when Paul's mother decided she wasn't going to hang around a loser and left the family, leaving Paul at three years of age.

Twenty four years has since passed, Paul and his father made it through the tough times. The company is now one of the largest suppliers of paper to major offices in the country and Paul was hell bent on making sure his father's legacy would go on. It was his destiny!

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

It's a Friday evening, Paul runs through the accounts for the day before closing up. The phone rings, Paul answers it and he hears an unfamiliar voice.

"Paul, is that you?"

"Yes, Paul speaking. Who is this please?"

"I don't know how to say this... but I am your mother."

"I don't have a mother. She left the family a long time ago."

"I know you must be angry, but I saw the advertisement of Dave's passing."

"You sure have a lot of concern for someone who left us for broke."

"I............. I..............."

"Have a nice day." Paul hangs up.

He never heard a call from her again.

So often people are quick to judge just like how Paul's mother judged her husband when the business was not doing well. It is a common sight in this materialistic world we live in. I personally know of friends who went through a similar circumstance in life.

It's not nice to judge someone........ people are who they are because of circumstances in their lives. Let them be who they are and you be who you are. We are all different and are special. It of us were given a gift from God called life.

existing vs living?

Over the weekend I read a book that said, "If you wake up every morning to go to work simply because you have to, and wait for your monthly pay cheque, you are not even living. You are merely existing."

It was a reality check right in my face. The words were throbbing in front of me like a red flag showing conspicuously placed in a mine laid field! Those words really got me thinking about me. It got me thinking about what I was doing now - existing or living?

Embarrassingly, I really think I am existing.

Merely existing isn't difficult to achieve in this overpopulated third rock from the sun. I don't think I'd be wrong if I assumed a good 75% of this world exists and don't really take a crack at living. I mean really living - waking up in the morning knowing there is a purpose for the day, a real purpose in what you want do in your living wake.

I can't help but think there has to be more than just waking up, getting dressed, rocking up to office, going home, then looking forward to the weekend.

What is my purpose? What is your purpose?

Ever thought about it? If you haven't, I think you should give a thought..........

reflection

Only days ago, I wrote something about arguments. Ironically two days ago, I had to go through the very unwilling feeling of being told I was wrong at work. Wrong over something I was actually correct from the start. Like any uncommon situations, that conclusion was derived with a load of information assymetry.

It is not uncommon that we all sometimes say things that could be detrimental to ourselves and to those around us due to the lack of information (i.e. you would have said something else had you known more about the situation). That's probably why so many fights and quarrels break out every now and then.

I had to take a step back and ask myself, "am I really wrong?". I looked, re-looked and re-looked again at the situation to really do an assessment. Contrary to trying to see if I was correct, I earnestly wanted to know if I was wrong. I had to know in all possibilities that I was wrong. I had to make sure I was wrong for the right reasons and that it wasn't a careless mistake on my part.

Turns out, I wasn't wrong and I was right. Fine - I was satisfied.

All that left was a pinch of soreness. Okay................................... no, it wasn't a pinch, it was more of a punch of soreness (truth be told).

No apology whatsoever was offered. Probably because he felt he wasn't oblige to offer an apology to me. It was like a crime left unsolved even though the criminal has been identified. It was injustice.

Funny how we are nurtured to think that justice leaves no stones unturned, only to find that that's exactly what justice doesn't do - all stones are left unturned.

Has the human culture shifted to such inhumane beliefs that all that matters is one's ego and pride? Apologies are simply hard to come by these days........ I can only ponder what the future holds for humanity - a world where everyone wants to be right. It can only be bleek.......

arguments.....

I can still remember it vividly. It was 4 years ago, back when I was still in university. Oh wait, college (my family couldn't afford university). I had a really lengthy debate with my lecturer over my dissertation. Like all other debates and arguments, we could not see eye-to-eye on the subject matter.

We were arguing over the methodology that I wanted to use for my research. I wanted a 100% qualitative research methodology but she wanted me to have both a mix of quantitative and qualitative research methodology.

Being who I was then - young, energetic, gung-ho, I had a point to prove. I wanted to be right. I wanted to be different. While the whole class decided to do a quantitative research because it was old-school, time-tested and proven method, I wanted to be different and I wanted to show I was number 1!

Eventually she gave in and I had my way on the methodology. But one thing was clear after I had finally got my way. There was a touch of resentment in her facial expression. But honest to my heart, it was a really good academic argument on trying to justify why I wanted to rely on my methodology.

I didn't mean to make her feel silly and neither was I trying to prove that I was smarter than her. I merely wanted to show that going out of the norm could take research to a new level. What I forgot was this:-

"Everyone wants to learn new things but no ones likes to be told they are wrong"

There is so much truth in that. Go on, try asking yourself if you like being told you are wrong.

I for a fact know how good it feels to be right after a lenghty argument with someone because I used to be head strong trying to prove myself in any argument, with anyone. I didn't care what it was about or who I was arguing with, I simply wanted to be right, I wanted to be on top.

As much as it feels good, hardly any of us think about the outcome of an argument.

There is no deying the fact of the matter that there will be one person who will be correct and another wrong. My point is....... so what? Seriously! So what if you are right the other person is wrong? Do you get a gold medal for being right? Do you get a million-dollar cheque for being right? Do you get a hug from a pretty lady for being right?

Answer is - NO, you don't get anything. Except for some short-lived gratification to your ego. That's pretty much all you are going to get.

Most importantly, arguments only breed resentment. From resentment, it creates relationship tensions be it with friends, family members or even between couples.

Try this next time:

1. Avoid arguments if possible at all;

2. If unavoidable, instead of arguing, if it is of no pertinent issues, just agree with whoever it is. At the end of the day, both of you get to keep your pride;

3. If it is really of pertinence, then try an indirect approach (i.e. don't turn into an instant argument by saying, "You are wrong because........". Try, "Would it be better if....... or I think it might be possible if...... or I could be wrong but....."

Don't argue, keep your friends, everyone is happy!