Life as I see it

The Coach, you hear??

2010-01-09T09:08:00.000-08:00

Day One.

I nervously stood at one corner, along with the other first timers. He stood there, inspecting us from afar. He was tall, and an air of silent menace surrounded him. He stood with a slight slouch to his back, his lanky arms dangling loosely at his sides. He was the Coach.

He kept staring at us, as if he expected us to do something. Finally one of the older first timers plucked the courage to walk up to him and ask him what it was that he wanted us to do. And so the Coach had us line up in front of him. As he stared at us, I noticed something hellish about his eyes. They glinted with malicious light, as if he were the devil himself! Cold sweat trickled down my spine.

"Let me ask you, how long do you think I have been standing here?" His voice was soft, but it was the sort of softness that could cut through flesh and bone faster and more effectively than any steel blade. I started to tremble like a leaf. I also noticed how the seniors had edged away from us first years, avoiding our gaze. "C'mon, tell me, how long have I been waiting here?"

"Um... about twenty minutes sir," squeaked one of the boys, clearly scared out of his socks.

"Twenty minutes?" His eyes hardened. "Lets get one thing straight, vermin. I hate to wait..."

Day Three

"Move move move move move!" the Coach bellowed at us as we dashed to and fro across the hall. We were made to run across the length of the hall two hundred and fifty times, having to bend down and touch the white line at the end of the hall, under a time limit of fifteen minutes.

My breath came out in ragged gasps as I ran. Sweat pouring out of my head, soaking my clothes thoroughly. I clutched my side, trying my best to ignore the stitch building up there. Several people had passed out after a few laps, and more were fainting as they ran.

I felt the bile rising through my throat as I pushed myself to the limit. I had just made it past two hundred laps, when my legs gave out and I crashed to the floor, hard. My body trembled violently, sweat streaming out of every pore. I must have been lying there for about five whole minutes, before I felt a sharp kick to my ribs. I opened my eyes, and saw the Coach's shoes inches away from my face. I looked up, begging him with my eyes. His own eyes hardened, and he mercilessly pointed towards the track...

Day Five

"You are not warriors, you're all whimps! I'll be damned if I ever saw a more useless bunch than you lot. What the hell do you think you're doing here?!" The Coach narrowed his eyes "You think this is some kind of joke?! You think this is just an ordinary battle school?! If you do, then stop waisting my time. If you think that I'm being too hard on you slugs then leave. Because if you want to stay, you damn well be sure that you're up to mark. Because if you slack off in my Academy, I'll make sure you never get the chance to slack off ever again. Oh yes, death happens to be part of the training. Did I mention that? You ether meet the mark, or you die trying..."

Day Six

I spun around, barely managing to block a slash. Sweat poured out of my every pore, plastering my hair to my head. My body ached, and the dozens of cuts I had taken burned. I stepped back quickly, all the time keeping my eyes on the opponent. I struggled to recollect all the battle lessons that I had learnt. It was hard. No matter how hard I tried to remember my previous stances and techniques, the information kept slipping away, like how people sometimes try to remember dreams, but never can. That's when I first felt it. My frustration gave way to anger. I wanted to jump out and slash wildly at my opponent, to hell with technique! But I realized instantly how stupid this would have been, and managed to calm myself down, for now. I then decided to take a gambit and went into direct assault.

Grunting with effort, I raised the blade above my head, preparing to attack. My muscles screamed in protest, my sword arm trembling. Ignoring the pain, I lashed out. The battle was short, it was violent, it was ruthless. My opponent knocked my blade aside with a simple flick of his wrist. His fist slamming into my face, breaking my nose. Then suddenly he was behind me. I tried to twist around and block the slash that I knew was coming. Too slow! I felt the the cold steel open a gash down my back. I screamed, my blade falling from my now limp hand. Flashes of pink and red danced before my eyes and I was faintly aware of the blood flowing down my back, soaking my battle tunic. Pain overrode all my other senses, leaving me blind and deaf to everything else except the pain. Pain so intense that, when the blackness of oblivion came for me, I welcomed it gratefully.

Day Nine

I grit my teeth, and heaved my body over the ledge. Then I rolled to my feet, and continued the run along the platform. Ahead of me I spotted the rope. It was dangling about three feet above platform height and roughly six feet away from the edge. Running off the edge of the platform, grabbing the rope and swinging over the edge of the wall on the opposite side was easy enough. Doing it with weights weighing half your body weight tied to your body was another thing altogether. I ran, struggling every step of of the way. Despite my screaming muscles, I jumped and caught the rope. I figured that the best shot I had of sailing over the edge of the opposite platform was to do it on the first swing, when I had maximum oscillation. That's when things went wrong. I misjudged my timing, and let go about a second too late. With weights weighing you down, this could prove fatal. Instead of landing gracefully past the edge, I fell short. With only a second to think, I straightened out my body, and reached for the edge of the wall. As soon as my fingertips touched the edge, I curled my fingers into the small groove that ran along it. My body swung violently and slammed into the wall. The breath was forced out of my body and my vision blurred. I drew in ragged gasps of air, my chest burning. My half healed back started to throb, and my fingers started to slip.

That's when I heard it. Laughter. Mocking laughter, aimed at me. I could distinctly hear the Coach's voice, his unmistakable cynical laughter. Rage welled up inside me. I tried to compose myself, but this time, I could not. My aching mind and body would not let me. Immediately I felt the adrenaline rushing through my veins. My grip on the ledge tightened. I roared, and with an astounding burst of effort, swung my body over the edge of the wall and landed on the other side. The laughter died down immediately. I looked ahead and, ignoring the pain, ran.

Day Ten

"Hit harder!" the Coach yelled into my ear. I grimaced as the sound waves assaulted my ears. I struck at the dummy again, my hand hardly leaving a dent in the wood. The dummy was made out of wood, with steel restrainers. The wooden bits were our prime target in a battle. And so we were working on it. I struck the dummy repeatedly, legs, body and head.

The Coach walked away from me, inspecting the others. After about half an hour of dummy hitting, the Coach allowed one student to stop. A few minutes later, he asked another to stop, then another, then another, until finally, I was the last person left hitting the thing. He walked up to me, and I expected him to let me off too, but he remained silent. When I stopped hitting and looked at him, he arched an eyebrow and cooly gestured towards the dummy. I turned back to the dummy, and started hitting it a lot harder, my anger rising. Why was he picking on me? Hit. What did I do to anger him? Hit. Can't he just treat me like everyone else? Hit. Whats his problem!? Hit. I was faintly aware of the blood that was flowing from between my knuckles.

"Hit HARDER!" the Coach suddenly roared. I jumped, suprised. I then pulled my fist back and struck the wood. A slight crack formed across the wooden face. "HARDER!" I struck again. "HARDER!" This drove me over the edge. My rage came out in one, long primal roar. I lashed out with my heel, shattering the dummy's wooden legs. I then dropped to one knee, and elbowed the chest, snapping the dummy's torso in two. I then stood up, and, using my other elbow, elbowed the dummy's head so hard that the head flew into the wall behind it and shattered there. I then lashed out at the dummy stand with fists and feet, my blows ripping the stand off the floor and sending it crashing into the wall. I then faced the Coach, looked him straight in the eye, then turned around and walked over to the benches. I hardly felt the pain from my knuckles.

Day Seventeen

"Today one of you will get the chance of a lifetime, a chance to fight me and not end up dead, like a lot of you ought too. This will be an unarmed duel, no weapons, no restoration potions or salves, nothing." The Coach's degrading tone stung. I clenched my fist. We were sitting in a circle, with the Coach standing in the middle. He then walked along the inside of the circle, looking each of us in the eyes. Some students looked away, unable to bring themselves to look into his cruel eyes. Some met his gaze, but flinched. When he walked past me, I did nether, but met his gaze as steadily as I could manage. This seemed to suprise the Coach. His eyebrows shot up a fraction, and an amused smile touched his lips. I fought to control the rage welling up inside me. He walked past me, looking at the others. He continued walking till he was directly opposite me, facing away. He then spun around, pointed a long, menacing finger at me, and hissed "You!"I did not move for about five seconds. Then I slowly rose to my feet and faced the Coach square off. The Coach stripped off his tunic, his muscles rippling in the light. I moved into one of the battle stances, waiting for him to make the first move. We circled each other, waiting for an opening to strike. We moved in a tight circle just out of striking distance.

I waited a bit longer, then got the opening I was hoping for. I noticed the slight tensing of the Coach's leg muscles, indicating that he was about to attack, so I prepared myself. The Coach struck out suddenly, leaping forward and lashing out with his foot. I leaped high into the air and aimed a counter kick at his face. He ducked it almost effortlessly and moved forward. I landed behind the Coach, rolled to my feet and spun around to face him. He attacked again, sending a flurry of punches at me. I blocked every single one of them, then stuck out with a few punches of my own. I hit nothing but air. Then I attacked. I kicked out twice, feinted a punch, then threw a far deadlier cross punch to the ribs. The Coach swatted both my kicks away and dodged my punches, coming up beside me. Before I could move, I took a solid kick to the ribs and a punch to the jaw. I fell backwards, rolled and leapt to my feet. I attacked again, lashing out at the Coach's legs, but this time I took a full foot in the face. I felt my nose break, and tasted the coppery taste of blood in my mouth.

I circled the Coach again. Then I tried a suprise attack, executing a flying kick, but the Coach blocked it and countered it with a kick to my knee and a fist to my gut. I backed away, then attacked again, feinting twice then kicking at the Coach's ribs, but he saw that coming. He easily caught my leg, twisted my ankle sharply, kicked at my other leg and shoved me backwards. I was sent sprawling. I leapt to my feet and attacked, but I was pelted back with a flurry of blows that seemed to hit every unguarded part of my body. I staggered back, one eye turning a nasty shade of blue. I attacked again. And again. And again. And again, but it was all in vain. Each time I attacked I got beaten up, and yet I could not land a single blow on the Coach. After about ten minutes of trying, I was exhausted. My hands trembled violently, blood streaming out of my nose and cut lip. The skin above my ribs were a mass of bruises that had now acquired a nasty purple shade. My left eye was swollen shut, and I moved rather stiffly due to a damaging kick to my left leg. Why can't I hit him?! Frustration fueled my anger. I clenched my fist to stop my hand from trembling. Why is he so bloody fast!? My fingernails cut into the flesh of my hand, and I felt the blood flowing between my fingers. I fought to control my anger.

"Why do you do that?" I heard the Coach ask. "Do what?" I replied through clenched teeth, venom in my vioce. "Fight that anger. Why do you hold back all that rage?" He was talking softly now, so that only I could hear. "Because," I remembered my previous mentor's words "because to perform best, one must first have complete and absolute control over his body. This includes the physical, mental and emotional." The Coach laughed "They told you that, now did they? Then tell me, boy, why aren't you beating me?" I clenched my fist tighter, my mind barely registering the pain "I have not yet attained complete control over myself," I continued through clenched teeth. "At least there's still hope for you," the Coach's tone of voice had superiority etched in every syllable.

The blow came so unexpectedly, that for a few moments I just stood there blinking. "Let it out," came the Coach's commanding voice "Let your rage out! You want to try to control anger?! You fool! Anger is your greatest ally in a fight!" The second blow made me see stars. "Let it out!" The next blow struck me between the eyes. "Let it out!" A foot slammed into my kidney. "Let it out!" A punch to the jaw. "LET IT OUT!" the Coach roared, punching me in the jaw again, and kicking my feet from under me. I crashed into the floor. Control! I struggled to control myself. Then a sharp kick slammed into my ribs, and I lost it. I let the sheer power of rage surge through my body.

I rolled on my back, grabbed the Coach's arm, and yanked him down. He was forced into a sort of bow. That was good enough for me. I uncurled my fist, lashed out with open fingers, and raked my fingernails through the flesh of his cheek, drawing blood. His eyes widened in shock, then a glimmer of realization flashed through them, and he smiled a satisfied smile. I yelled the vilest of curses at him, and tried to punch him, but he moved away. I rolled to my feet, murder in my eyes, and attacked. I wanted blood! Charged at him, throwing a hurricane of blows. Fist, elbow, knee, feet, anything I could lash out with. He blocked as well as he could, but I was relentless. I kept attacking him, forcing him backwards. He struck out at me violently from time to time trying to knock me off, but I barely felt the blows.

Then I spotted it, the opening I needed. I changed my stance and attacked immediately. The Coach spotted my movements, and tried to deter me by kneeing at my stomach. I took the hit to the stomach, but loosed five damaging blows to his solar plexus. The Coach groaned and staggered backwards. "Okay boy, that's enough," gasped the Coach, doubling over in pain. I was in no state of mind to listen. I attacked him again, forcing him to back up against a wall. When he finally did, I smiled a triumphant smile, and threw a ground shaking punch. The effect was spoilt when the Coach moved away and my fist connected with the wall breaking all the knuckles in my hand. "I said," hissed the Coach, while he threw a crushing blow to my unguarded kidney. I gasped and doubled over. He grabbed my head with both his hands, jerked me downwards, then brought his knee straight into my face. "I said," he repeated, as he swung me around and slammed me into the wall "that's enough!" I looked into his eyes and saw for the first time, a sort of self devouring, mindless rage.

Day Twenty Eight

"Work that anger!" A bucket of cold water hit me in the face. I gasped, struggling against the chains that bound my hands behind my back. "Let the rage course through your body!" Another bucket of icy cold water to the face. I spluttered, then cursed the Coach. I had been violently dragged out of my room, my hands handcuffed during my sleep, and into another room, where I was thrown violently on the floor. "Thats it, curse all you want, let your rage take over!" said the Coach with satisfaction in his eyes. I cursed and called him every name under the sun, and then was, again, nailed with a bucket of cold water. There were five hooded, masked men in the room aside from the Coach. It was these men who were alternating between pouring cold water on me, and hitting me. The next blow landed between my eyes, and my vision swam for a moment. I focused on the guy who had hit me. He will die.

This is an unfinished post that i had written a long time ago. Just had a chance to go through it. I decided not to finish it, I think its beautiful the way it is. Oh and all the fencers in my school will know who I'm referring to in this post ;)

Friends

2009-10-25T11:43:00.000-07:00

Hey all, I know its been a long time since I last blogged, but as you all know, I had my PMR exams to deal with (not that I was studying or anything).

Today's post will be about my friends. Not all of them, just the ones I hang out with at school.

Lets start with Arthur 'Terrapin' Tan, the weird and whacky one in our group. Being a master at origami, no paper is safe from Arthur! Seriously, he can fold anything from a gargoyle to a three-headed dragon to a 'Trycerafrog' (its a frog with three horns that makes it look like a Tryceratops). Quiet in nature (until he met us, that is!) Arthur is funny in his own way, his jokes usually needing good English, and wide general knowledge, to understand. His name Terrapin comes from the tortoise-like look that he gives us from time to time. All in all, a great guy.

Then we have Amandeep 'Topdog' Singh, the coolest nerd in our group. He's usually up to date with all his homework, and all the teachers like him. But don't be fooled, there are two horns hidden somewhere on his head! A natural stand up comedian with a great sense of humor. One can never be bored around him. Great music taste too. I was always a music listener, but he got me hooked. When it comes to my music exposure, I owe it all to him. Not only music. He got me hooked on ventriloquists and stand up comedians too. Gotta love him.

Now lets go to Aidan 'Underdog' Yeoh. He is the most, no wait, the second most annoying person (the Chongs beat him here) I have ever known. Enthusiastic in nature, Aidan has been a real asset to our group. He is the type of person who would make a decision and stand on it no matter what anyone else thinks. His words have a way of making people think. He's also an aspiring musician.

I have been saving the best for last. This is none other than Julian 'Chotta Don' Sebastian. He's the main humor generator of our group. You may have had the worst day in your life, but a few minutes with Jules and you'll be on the floor laughing. Trust me, I know. If there ever was a Humor Central, the host would most definitely be Julian. But beneath this comedian front is a loyal and caring person, with only the best in mind for his friends. He truly is one of a kind.

Now, to the person who gave me the idea for this blog post, and has been the inspiration for a lot of my previous posts: Sonia! It is said that everyone needs a shove once in a while to get them moving. My shove came in the form of this person. By far, Sonia is my favourite chat buddy, and my youtube 'reference book'. Sensible at best, she's exactly what the world needs t0 combat my craziness. She's a fun lover with an amazing personality. She is one in a billion.

Operation S.T.E.A.L.

2009-08-24T02:48:00.000-07:00

It was on the 21st of August 2009 (Friday). The attendance was 11 out of 39 students. Arthur had asked me to bring my guitar, so I brought it to school (its not like we were going to study anyway). So Arthur and I played a few songs and sang to it. The others in the class joined along, and we were a bit too loud.

We were so loud, we woke the Goblin of Saint Paul's. Her very presence instilled fear in the bravest of hearts, and she could make the strongest men grovel at her feet in terror. It was this very being that arrived at our classroom. Those singing stopped abruptly, and those who were doing other things stood rooted in fear. She licked her sharp goblin teeth, scanning the class. Her little piggy eyes darted to my guitar, then to me. There seemed to be a hellish light in her eyes, as she stared at me. I stared right back. It was a stare-off that seemed to last an eternity. I gripped my guitar, knuckles turning white with effort. The power behind the eyes of the Goblin was enormous. I put up a good fight, I stared at her with such intensity that she started sweating under the strain, but it was no good. She had had too much practise, she was too powerful. I averted my eyes and slumped on my chair, all the energy leaving me.

The Goblin smiled and wiped her sweat away. She then pointed a hooked claw at me and screeched "Hand the guitar over to me! I am confiscating it!"

The class was silent as I walked up to the Goblin and handed my guitar over to her. Cackling like the goblin she was, she left. I dropped into my seat, and exhaled slowly.

"That was a custom made jumbo guitar, probably worth more than 500 bucks," said Arthur.
I raised my hand, silencing him "I need to think."

A minute or so later, I looked at Arthur and grinned. Arthur, knowing me well enough said
"You're not going to let her get away with this are you?"
"Nope. I can't out muscle her, I'm just going to have to out smart her."
"You do realize that the rest of the team is absent right?"
"We'll manage."
Arthur grinned "Whats the plan?"

I needed a third agent, so I recruited Nicholas. We all sat around a table, and I told them the plan:

Operation S.T.E.A.L.
Steal
The
Eequipment
And
Leave

Agents:
Codename Watchman (Arthur)
Codename Infiltrator (Nick)
Codename Shadow (Azriel)

The Mission:
Retrieve stolen good from the Goblin's Den

Time:
After school, 1225 hours.

Sequence:
Watchman takes up position, checking for Goblin. If Goblin is present, Watchman makes his move, and lures her away. Infiltrator then moves in, locates the prize, scan the surrounding for traps and obstacles, then moves out and reports to Shadow using hand signals. Shadow then slips in and out of the Den with prize.

The bell rings at 12.25 p.m. The agents are in position. The goblin is not there, so Watchman pretends he is on the pay phone, keeping an eye out for the Goblin. Infiltrator enteres the office, then out again. Through hand signals I gather that the prize is in the Goblin's office, but Aru is a potential threat to the mission. Nodding swiftly, I walk up to Watchman and swiftly whisper my plan.

Both me and Watchman move into the office. Watchman engages a teacher in conversation just outside Aru's office door, so as to block Aru's visual (his door has a 'window' on it). I dip into the Goblin's Den, grab my guitar, and then stroll out casually, so as not to look suspicious.

Operation S.T.E.A.L. was a success!

Happy Birthday Anne

2009-08-12T13:58:00.000-07:00

Today's post is special. Today's post goes out all the way to a person who has had a great deal of influence in my life, someone to whom I have (and still!) looked up too, a teacher, a mentor, a friend: Tan Szet Anne.

Out of the eight years I should have known you, I have known you only three, and you have been a blessing to me. And, like someone-i-forgot-his-name said, "A teacher never knows where her influence stops," others have been blessed by you through me. Your life has always been an inspiration when ever I am in need of one. Ever, during a time of prayer, when there is no pressure, and you have all the time in the world, take the time to thank God for all the people he has placed around you, to help you grow, learn from, and love? Guess whose name stood out in my mind? Yours.

In every one's life there are a few special people (family not included) that mold and shape and mold a life, and these few special people will always be remembered. I have had the opportunity and the privilege to to meed one such person in my life: you. You are a mighty leader, a good listener (goodness knows that is true... I still don't know how you hear of news that fast...) a wise counselor, a good friend. I thank God for placing you in my life, and meeting you has been one of the turning points in my life, and it has changed me for the better. Thank you Anne, for being all that you have been to me.

In the mire that is life
There are a those who glow like light
Shaping, molding, touching one,
Blessing one like me, a ton!
-Az-

PS: Happy Birthday Anne

Crazy Hat Day!!

2009-07-30T08:06:00.000-07:00

I know, I have not been a very faithful blogger. Anyway, this post is about my school life. Think you know me that well? Read this blog, and see for yourself.

Let us start with the 'Crazy Hat Day!'

I can't remember exactly what day it was, but Arthur and I were feeling really bored. The teacher was droning on and on about something and I'd bet you anything the entire class was not paying attention to her. As usual, Arthur was folding a piece of paper while I was writing a short story on a piece of paper (somehow our friendship, our very lives seem to revolve around pieces of paper).

Then at one point, I looked up and stared at Arthur. He was wrestling with a piece of paper, trying to fold a corner in or something. It looked like an overturned saucer with one flat side.
"Hey Arthie, what is that?" I asked.
"I have no idea. I'm just folding whatever i can find, see what comes out of it."
"Well, if its any help, it does look sort of like an armadillo shell cap, like the one from Dukes of Hazzard," I injected.
"A what?! Hey cool!" with that he jammed it on my head. The both of us burst out laughing.

Then an idea hit me like a pile of bricks. As Arthur reached to pull the hat off, i knocked his hand away, and winked at him. He looked at me, then at the cap, then at me again. Then his eyes widened in realization, and he grinned.
An entire silent conversation seemed to pass between us:
"You're gonna wear that hat around??!!"
"Yup."
"All day??!!"
"Yup"
"In front of the teachers?!"
"Yup"
"You're insane!!"
"Yup"

Then, in actual words:
"Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," I reply with a smile.
"You do know that everyone is gonna laugh at you, right?" he said.
"They might, but hey, whats life without a few laughs here and there right? Besides, wear a crazy hat long enough, and it'll catch on. Just you wait and see. By the end of today, I won't be the only one wearing a ridiculous paper hat!" I said

So then Arthur made a weird hat for himself and wore it. Julian, looking at the both of us, made a hat of his own, and wore it.

At first people laughed at us, telling us we look like complete fools (to which our typical response was "Hey, we never said we weren't!"). Then they tried to knock out hats off our heads. Then they started snatching our hats, trying them on, then putting it back on our heads. Then, one by one, students started making hats of their own and wearing it. At last, when our History teacher came in, she was greeted by a sea of white paper hats.

The class was so taken up with the hats, that when the teacher ordered the entire class to remove their hats, the hats came back on minutes later. Every time the teacher made us remove it, the hats somehow resurfaced (if you think Arthur and I had anything to do with it... you guessed right!), to the extent that the teacher could do nothing but teach a class full of students embarrassing themselves (on purpose) by wearing dumb paper hats!

When the bell rang, signaling the end of school, Arthur and I walked out of the class in silence. I caught his eye, and the both of us grinned like a pair of jackals.

S.P.I vs Garden International School

2009-06-01T05:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, so you all probably want to know what happened at the Fencing tournament on Saturday. Well, bad news, SPI lost (got second place). Good news, the best Fencer was from SPI, and our fledgling fencer actually beat one of their trained fencers! But I was humbled and taught an important lesson too.

So, in the morning (6 a.m.!!) I get a call on my phone. The SPI fencers are eating breakfast in some shop. Marcus and Wei Loong call and want me to come. I tried refusing a couple of times, but they were persistent. Believe it or not, they were willing to drive all the way from SPI right up to Rasah Kemayan to pick me up from my house, just because I am one of SPI's best fencers! How does one refuse in such a situation? So they all came to my house in one van, at 6a.m. in the morning.

Our trip there was uneventful. We arrived there, and split into groups, 3 from SPI and 3 from GI (Garden International). Then we sparred. The game went that the first contestant to score 3 points wins (or the one who scores most points by the time limit). I said a quick prayer, depending on God to see me through the matches with minimal injury.

I was first in line to spar for my group. My first opponent was a girl. I was weary at first, thinking she was good, but, as soon as she made her move, it was evident who was the better fencer (and it was not her!). So I decided to bully her a little. I was really mean. Every time she took a stab at me, I easily parried, and then ether stab back at her arms and legs (so as to prolong the match, and not end it), or whack her with the flat of my blade. One time, she tried a feint, but I saw it coming. I blocked both her feinted stab and her actual stab, and drove the point of my rapier into her mask, knocking her backwards. I finished her off 3-0.

I got big headed. Sirajudding was next after me, and, when he too had a flawless victory (6-0), it added to my overconfidence. Wei Loong The Great (he had only gone for one fencing lesson, yet he was fighting like us seasoned fencers. Hats off to Wei Loong) won his match, taking two hits, placing us at 9-2. Me and Sirajuddin breezed through the next two matches, taking a hit each, leaving us with 15-4. I thought we were invincible. I thought we had this game wrapped up, and at 15-4, victory seemed to be ours. I knowingly pushed God aside, saying I can handle this on my own. And the worst thing was, that I was aware I was pushing God away.

Our luck ran out. We got hammered 16-18. A crushing blow. I was next, and I thought I could handle myself. I was sadly mistaken. Sirajudding after me fared no better. I went in after that, trying to recover, but we took it bad, 24-27.

We were crushed. Having victory snatched from our hands was painful. And, when we saw our next opponents, we had no hope. They were big, huge, collage level students!!

Sirajuddin was up first. He could not score a single point. I went in after him and fared no better. At 0-6, (SPI 0), Wei Loong was devastated. But he fenced like a pro, and managed to score a point.

I knew that something was not right here. We could handle these guys, yet we were loosing. I sat down in the far end of the room, thought for a while, and prayed. I apologized, and asked forgiveness for not putting Him first. I then asked God to take over from here on. I asked Him to let me bring glory to His name in this competition. Then I resumed the game, feeling like the true champion I was.

Sirajuddin was after Wei Loong, but he was not able to score anything. The points stood at 1-12 (SPI 1). Then I went in. God gave me the wisdom to test my other opponent, and not leap straight into battle, as was my style. I found out that he was fast, but his moves were predictable. I knocked his blade to one side, only to have it swing back and knock mine away. I repeated the same move, only this time, when his blade swung back, I disengaged it (so that his counter-parry wont work), and stabbed at the exposed part of his shoulder. I scored a point. My confidence blossomed. I pressed on the attack, slashing, stabbing, feinting, lunging etc. Each time I attacked I scored a point. But time ran out. Still, the scoreboard now read 10-13 (SPI 10).

"$#!t man, 10 points!" shouted Sirajuddin, a stunned grin on his face.
"9" I corrected him.

Wei Loong and Sirajuddin fenced with renewed vigor, scoring a point each. Then Wei Loong and I swapped places, so that he would go before me, and I would play the last match. Wei Loong did not score a single point leaving the points at 12-24. Then it was my turn, and I would be facing off the best, the team captain.

He was weary of me. He had seen the way I had handled his friend. We met in the centre, and, in the blink of an eye, stabbed at me. I parried his blow with equal speed, then took at stab at him, but he had already taken two steps back. I took a step forward, and did a full out lunge. He parried it, and lunged, but I, with lightning quick reflexes, recovered from the lunge, and knocked his blade downwards. Then I extended my arm in a semi-stab. His blade raised a welt in my thigh, and I drove the point of my blade into his mask, making him stagger backwards.

I was running out of tricks. I needed a new one fast. My opponent knew all those common moves, and was prepared for it. So I pulled one very very very (very!) dangerous stunt. I stood my ground and waited for him to attack. That means I am allowing him to plan his attack, and advance. It means that I will be relying on speed alone, to react to him. He advanced, testing me with slight jabs. The he lunged. I parried the blow, and stabbed at him, but he was to far. He tried to parry my stab, but I disengaged him, and when he tried to parry again, I counter disengaged him, took a step forward, and did a full out lunge. He was not prepared for that. I nailed him.

Man, my next move really caught him off guard. As soon as the coach said fence, I covered the distance between us in a matter of seconds, and the next instant, was on his side of the line. He was so shocked at my sudden aggressive attack, that he did not know what to do. I stabbed him, he blocked. I stabbed again, he blocked. I stabbed for the third time, only this time, I dropped my blade in a small circular arc under his blade, so that his parry missed, exposing his shoulder. I drove my blade into his shoulder, earning me another point.

We fenced what must have been the greatest fencing match of my life so far. Lunging, parrying, stabbing etc. By the time we were done, the scoreboard read 20-27. recovering 8 points was no small feat. SPI lost, but on an individual scale, I owned the game! I was crowned best fencer.

I dominated the rest of the matches. Enough said.

But this post is to glorify God. Believe it or not, this really did happen, exactly the way I told it. No exaggerations, nothing. I just witnessed a miracle. No way I could have held out so long on my own against those fencers, who, by the way, have been fencing longer than I have.

This was a humbling experience. I was beaten by those of lesser experience than me when I left out God, but I beat more experienced fencers, when I let God take over. All glory to Him.

Arthie Arthie

2009-05-04T03:01:00.000-07:00

It was Wednesday I think, when Arthur, Julian and I had to stay back to finish our Living Skills (K.H.) wood work (I couldn't finish mine on time because I attended drama practise). As Julian and I were doing our work, we suddenly herd a yeowl, followed by a curse. Looking up from my work, I saw Arthur jumping about clutching his thumb tightly. Julian shook his head and resumed his work, while I laughed.

After a few moments, I heard another curse.

Arthur: How do you all get the nails to obey you??!! My nails are bent on making my life miserable!

Me: Its called skill Arthie, not something you are familiar with.

Arthur: I am carpenter-illy challenged!

Julian: That you are!

A few minutes later I heard the fall of a hammer followed by a prolonged groan.

Arthur (holding up a bent nail): How do you get the nails to go straight into the wood?!?! How do you keep your nails from bending, when you hammer it?! Hey, maybe I'm the Last Nail Bender!!

Julian dropped his hammer and burst out laughing.

A little while later

Me: Hey Arthie, do me a favor and get the Shellac oil from the K.H. store.

Arthur: Okay.

Arthur came back holding a big container and several brushes.

Arthur: Since I brought you the Shellac, I get to use it first.

Julian and I: Okay

So Arthur poured the liquid into a bowl, dipped a brush into it, and started coating what supposed to be his wood work. It took me a while, but then I noticed something was wrong. Instead of the brown Shellac oil, the bowl was filled with a clear white liquid.

Me: Arthie where did you get that liquid?

Arthur: In the store room, why?

Me: Because that's not Shellac.

Arthur:What?!

Me: That's not Shellac

Julian looked at the liquid, then at Arthur, and burst out laughing.

Julian: Looks like Turpentine.

Arthur: What is that?

Me: I don't know what that is, but I sure as hell know it's not Shellac

Arthur looked mortified. Then he let out a long, anguished wail.

Arthur: Curse you Two-pen-tein!!!!!

Me: Its Ter-penh-tine

Arthur: No, its Two-pen-tein. It has a 'U' in it.

Julian examined Arthur's woodwork, and laughed a whole lot more louder. Arthur had coated half his woodwork in Turpentine. I then went back to the K.H. room and get some proper Shellac oil, and started...er... Shellac-ing my woodwork. Julian did likewise.

Arhtur: Oh bugger the whole thing!! I have an idea!

With that, Arthur emptied half the Shellac bottle into a small container, and then dipped his woodwork into it.

We went to class laughing like a trio of drunkards!

There and Back Again

2009-04-23T07:40:00.000-07:00

Ever heard about the book The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolken? As I was flipping through Christopher Paolini's Eldest, I got bored of the rookie's writing, and found myself drifting to the skilled stories of the great J.R.R. Tolken. My mind zeroed in on one book in particular, The Hobbit.

I don't know why, but I regard The Hobbit as a masterpiece, like The Secret Garden, Black Beauty, The Wizard of Oz etc. From the first page, I could 'feel' Bilbo Baggins. I understood exactly how he felt, why he made the decisions he made etc. I felt his terror as he faced the Trolls, I felt his confidence as he hacked at the Spiders, I was biting my fingernails as he traded riddles with gollum (I even memorised all the riddles), etc.

Tolken somehow made Bilbo grow and mature in the book. And I don't just read it, I feel it. I see his way of thinking change as he is exposed to the outside world (Middle Earth). Lets face it, very few authors have the ability to make their fictional characters grow in their stories. Christopher Paolini certainly does not have this ability; Eragon the Dragon Rider still acts and thinks like he used too when he was a farm boy! The authors that have the ability include Tolkien and D.J. McHale. McHale demonstrated his skill in the Pendragon series. I won't say I'm a fan, but I have read books 1-8, and will read book 9 and 10 at any given time. The story is awesome. The entire idea is new, and the pregression of the whole story is just....wow. To write about fate and destiny, and the lives of a ka-zillion people in 10 separate worlds, and weaving them together, is not easy. In fact its downright hard. Hats off to McHale here.

Back to The Hobbit. Though I am a bit disappointed about the fact that Bilbo did not become a mighty warrior or a knight, and play an important role in winning the Battle of the Five Armys, I am content with the way the story ended. Bilbo went home, back to the Shire, the one place he wanted to be throughout his adventure. The one place where he will never again be troubled by Goblins, Trolls or Dragons. The one place where he could finish his book on his adventure: There and Back Again, A Hobbit's Tale by Bilbo Baggins. Besides, he did become an excellent swordsman (Bilbo's sword Sting was actually a dagger), and Bilbo came back with enough riches to keep himself comfortable for the rest of his life.

Truly a beautiful book.

Fiction

2009-02-18T23:54:00.000-08:00

I know you all 'Expect' me to write about the Aspirers Camp (for those of you who attended the camp, you'll get the joke), but I'll write some other time, when the pictures are sent out.
I want you all to read the following story.

Bill opened the front door at the second knock. He came face to face with the new kid in town.

"The party is in the living room," yelled Bill over the music, and jerked his thumb toward the general direction of the noise. As the teenager walked past, Bill shook his head in disgust. The kid was probably only 14. Most everyone in the party was above 21. Bill knew he was to blame. It was his idea to set up a sign that said 'all invited' in big bright letters. Of course all the kids in town knew to stay away from any 'grown up' parties. All except for this one, it seemed. Bill caught up with the new kid, and led the kid away from the party, muttering "Few things you need to know."

"The people in the party are older than you, so I'd like it if you...just let them be. Second, there's a girl there, 15 years of age or so. You are by no means to touch her, dance with her, or hit on her. She is my sister. Not to be rude, but I can be a little paranoid when it comes to my sister and guys," Bill spoke rapidly, so as to mot miss the party. He looked as serious as possible.

The teenager squeaked something in reply, looking nervous. Bill merely grunted and walked back to the party. The teenager, somewhat shaken, followed Bill into the living room.

* * *

Bill was having a great time at the party. He had danced with a few girls, made sly, witty remarks that made him look cool and carefree. Now he was standing at a corner talking to Amy. Bill had a huge crush on Amy since they first started high school. Now that they were both studying in the same University, Bill felt he stood a chance with her.

Amy was a real beauty. She had large, light brown eyes, with shoulder length brown hair. She had a cute button nose, and a pair of luscious red lips. Her smile could dry a boy's mouth, and her dimples could send people over the moon. Her skin was milky white and unblemished. She stood over six feet tall, and moved like a river, swift, graceful.

Bill was mesmerized by the way her hair swayed with every turn of her head. He had just managed to muster enough courage to ask her for a dance, when he felt a slight tug on his sleeve. To his annoyance, he found the teenager staring at him. Bill, not wanting to look bad in front of Amy, asked the kid "Boy, how old are you?"
"15 sir," was the reply he got.
"Okay, what do you want," said Bill as nicely as possible. It did not work. An idiot could tell that the smile on Bill's face was forced, and he barely managed to keep his voice level.
"I want to know why is that lady over there sitting all by herself," squeaked the boy
"Maybe she's tired!" snapped Bill. How was he to know?
"I don't think so. I have not seen her do anything at all," insisted the boy.
"Look-" Bill stopped short. A sudden realization hit him like a brick. "Which lady?" he asked quietly.
"The lady in black, there at the far end," said the boy, gesturing towards a corner.
"Oh..." Bill said, thinking of what to say next, "She is sick, kid."
"Its not just any sickness, is it sir?" said the boy quietly. To Bill, the boy suddenly seemed a lot older.
"No, its not. It is a contagious skin disease. She only has a few more weeks left to live," said Bill, his tone softening. "it could have been cured if she had seen a doctor while the disease was at an early stage, but now..." he did not have to finish.
"So everyone just leaves her alone!?" said the kid, his voice rising. "She has a few more weeks to live, and she is spending it in a corner! The least you could do is talk to her! But I see you avoiding her just like everyone else!" the kid was shouting now, but no one could hear him over the speakers.

With that the kid turned around and ran towards the lady. Cursing vilely under his breath, Bill chased the kid, hoping that the hot blooded teenager would not be stupid enough to touch the lady.
The boy was fast. And he had the size advantage. He managed to dodge the dancing couples, leap over chairs etc. Bill...was not so graceful.

The boy reached the lady first. Without thinking, the boy threw his arms around the lady and hugged her. Bill arrived at the scene several moments too late. He stood rooted on the spot. The hug lasted a good 12 slow counts, then the lady broke the embrace.

"I don't think you know that I have a contagious skin disease, boy," said the lady in a quiet, sad voice.
"You do? Oh well, that makes the both of us now," replied the boy cheerfully.
"No, i don't think you get it. You could fall sick and...and...die," croaked the lady, her voice breaking.
"Well, the only thing left to do is to make the best out of it, then isn't there," said the boy. "May i have the pleasure of dancing with you?"

The woman stared at the teenager for sometime. Then she started sobbing, and the boy hugged her again. "Will you not have this dance with me?" asked the boy quietly.
The lady broke the hug and whispered a single word, "Yes."

A smile lit the boy's face as he and the lady moved to the dance floor. The crowd parted to let them pass. The two of them danced to a slow-ish song, and they were the only ones on the dance floor. As they danced, all those in the living room applauded. There was a huge smile on the lady's face, as she twirled her worries away.

Bill could not take it anymore. He turned around, dropped into the nearest couch, and wept his heart out. For the first time in a very long time, Bill cried.

At the end of the day, there wasn't a single dry eye in the house.

By: Azriel Chelliah

Odd...

2009-02-01T02:02:00.000-08:00

It happened while I was coming home from church. I was in Uncle J's car, and we were both talking merrily.

Then, as we were on our way, I saw something on road (not on our side, but the road beside us, where cars go the opposite direction). As we drew nearer, I realized it was a motorcycle helmet. Then, as we drove past the helmet, I saw something beside the helmet. It looked like a round bowl standing upright. The inside was white, but, as the bowl-like-thing tilted a bit, I saw the outside: It was light brown, with streaks of red. But due to the fact that the road was a curve, i quickly lost sight of it.

I looked at Uncle J, and asked "Is that the top half of a skull there beside the helmet?"
The response was priceless: Uncle J hit the brakes, causing the car to jolt, and move a lot slower. I saw his eyes widen.
"Are you serious?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

I must have been deathly pale, because his eyes grew bigger, and he did not repeat the question. Instead, he asked me if we should take a U-turn and check it out. I nodded swiftly. He wheeled the car around in the next U-turn, and shot on.

As we neared the curve, Uncle J slowed down, and the both of us kept our eyes on the road. We went along the curve, but this time, we saw nothing. No helmet, no weird bowl/skull-thing.

Uncle J heaved a sigh of relieve. I laughed. The laugh was hollow, and it sounded fake, even to my ears. Uncle J is usually the type of person who would make a comment at something like this and laugh it off, but he took one look at my face and remained silent. I must have looked pretty bad. I knew I probably looked really pale, plus the frowning (the frowning comes when I'm deep in thought), and the pursed lips. Yeah, I think I looked like the scarier version of Lurch from the Adam's Family. Plus, I think Uncle J saw the helmet too...

I could have sworn (I did not, cause Christians aren't supposed to swear) I saw those two things. But seeing is believing, right? I saw nothing on a more closer examination, so there couldn't have been anything......right?

Or........

.

Intresting

2009-01-24T07:29:00.000-08:00

The Batman hesitated. Catwoman was on her face, gripping her side. He had taken her out, but did he have to finish it? She was a woman after all. He hesitated too long.
Her leg lashed out, catching him in the gut. He doubled over, backing away. Catwoman leaped to her feet. "Poor Batman, always the gentleman," she purred. Then she scratched the exposed part of his face, drawing blood. He staggered to the edge of the building. Her lips curved upwards, forming a smug smile, before she punched, sending him over the edge of the building.

Later

Alfred: Everyone has their own weakness, master Bruce

Bruce: Yes, but I always thought it was my secret identity

Alfred: It seems you have found another weakness. One in the Catwoman

To Sherlock Holmes, she was always the woman. He hardly referred to her in any other terms. She had called his ingeniously planned bluff, and then donned a disguise of her own, and followed him back to 221 Baker Street. She was Irene Adler. The end results were the same, the documents were destroyed, but the ego of the greatest detective of all time was sorely bruised. She had outsmarted him at what he did best. The case Scandal in Bohemia will never fade from the memory of Sherlock Holmes.

Several months later

Watson: for god's sake, Holmes, forget the woman, like any sane man would! You're case was still
a success!

Holmes: Tell me, my dear Watson, how does one judge a success?

Watson: I would say that the answer depends on the man, wouldn't it?

Holmes: Quite so, Watson. Need I say more?

Watson: You are saying, that I judge a success by the end result, but you judge success on how you beat your opponent, are you not?

Holmes: Excellent, Watson. You catch on fast.

*pause*

Watson: Why did you not tell me the answer, Holmes? Was it really necessary to riddle me so?

Holmes: The fastest way for a man to understand something, is when he is forced to admit it himself. Otherwise, you would have argued with me, and I would have to debate with you, am I right Watson?

Watson: *sigh* Quite so, Holmes, quite

Holmes: Elementary, my dear Watson...

Above are some sentences that caught my eye. Notice how both the antagonists above are female... (I'm not saying anything...)

I like Alfred, because he is observant, wise, and witty. He just stats the facts, and suddenly things are much clearer. No messing around with possibilities, just straight to the point. And I love his off hand witty remarks. Hilarious!

As for Sherlock Holmes, he's the greatest detective of all time, whats not to like about him!
Read the Holmes/Watson dialogue above...now do you all see why I like Sherlock Holmes?
The guy is a genius!!

Forever Free

2009-01-23T01:59:00.000-08:00

Of all the things I've ever seen,
Of all the dreams I've ever dreamed,
The finest sight that's come to me,
White horses wild beside the sea

They ran across the trackless sand
In that remote, forgotten land,
And in their running they were free
Beside the boundless, unchained sea.

They raced the first light of the day
And surged across a shallow bay
To feed at ease in grassy plains
With wind alone to groom their manes.

No barn or stable was their home.
No one could govern where they roamed.
They galloped on the fence less tracts
With no ones burden on their backs.

And each swift horse was nature's child
At home on land forever wild,
And each wild horse was meant to be
At home on land forever free.

A Poem

2009-01-16T00:40:00.000-08:00

My life was careless,
My life was fun,
When I was a child
Now its done

I used to be young,
So naive
Now that's all gone,
Like a breeze

I wish I could go back,
To my days of youth.
To try and laugh
Like I used to

But I can't do that
The past is gone
Still I will try
To make life fun

For those of you older than me, you'll probably be thinking "He's still young. Only 15. He writes as if he's going through mid-life crisis." Just so you'd know, I wrote this because I miss my primary school life, and there are things I regret not doing.

Its a new Year

2009-01-11T00:48:00.001-08:00

Hey everyone. I know its been a long time since I last updated my blog (more than half a year). I am gonna be 15 this year. Woo-hoo? I think not. I am also gonna sit for my PMR examination this year. A major turning point in my life.

2008 was a blast! I will even go so far as to say that 08 was the best year I've had. I knew that it (2008) was my last chance to kick back and have some fun (PMR, new subjects in form4 and SPM), so I made full use of it. I made some great friends (you know who you are), and I got to know my old friends a lot better (again, you know who you are). Here are some of the crazy things I did;

I met this totally whacked guy in my class, called Amandeep. He's from KL, and he's your typical normal kid, loves music, loves stand up comedies, and has a great sense of humor. He does all his homework, and listens to the teacher, and then tells us what to do (cause we wont be listening). There is this other guy, Aidan, the noisy, annoying, bugging one that keeps irritating us. And we all like him for that! Then there is this other guy that I've known for 5 years now. He's the weirdo, the one we all LOVE!! He does the weirdest of things at the oddest of times, and we all fall over laughing. On the outside, he is this shy, quiet kid. But on the inside, he's just as crazy and wild as the rest of us. I am talking about none other than....... Arthur Tan Junior! And then there's me. Together we make up the craziest group in our class.

One day, somewhere in the middle of the year, all four of us were feeling bored. Classes were a drag, and we all wanted to do something fun, dangerous and weird. So we started plotting in class (we all sat and still sit, this year, behind and beside one another). We made about a hundred paper boxes, the size of our palm (the type that cannot be opened, and the only opening is a small hole at the top). Arthur is really good at origami, and he thought us how to make it. The last subject was science, and we had sports earlier that day. It was the perfect time. During science, we changed into our sports attire. In the middle of our science table, there is a sink, complete with a tap and running water. We filled our paper boxes with water, through the small hole at the top, and............. let it fly! It was a water bomb battle. The paper boxes worked perfectly: during the time it takes us to fill the boxes with water, and throw it, the water softens the paper, so that, upon contact with anything, the paper bursts, literally. The water splashes out, and the victim is drenched, with little strips of soggy paper clinging on to him. The perfect harmless-yet-annoying weapon!

Yea, we nearly got caught for that one. Nearly. We also used to stay back in school, up to about five, six p.m. to play basketball. We used to play until we were too exhausted to even toss the ball. I remember once trying to get past Arthur to score (too exhausted to run, I only managed a slight jog), and he made one desperate run to stop me (did I say run? I meant, stagger). He managed to get in front of me, but I was too tired to bypass him. Heck I was too tired to even stop. I crashed into him, and we both went down, hard. Very hard. And then we burst out laughing. I'm serious, no moaning, no groaning. We just looked at each other and burst out laughing. We continued laughing for the better part of five minutes, and only got up about ten minutes later. That's how tired we were. Needless to say, our arms were killing us the next day.

There was this once, when Amandeep, me and Arthur stayed back in school for fun. Amandeep brought his electric guitar and amp, Arthur brought his keyboard, and I brought my guitar (which i plugged to the amp). We increased our volume to the max, and started jamming. The entire school heard us (afternoon session). They sent teachers after us! We played some familiar rifts, and then we just played a string of chords that sounded nice. At least I think it sounded nice.

Then there was the class group oral test! That is a day to remember! I did a little skit. The cast: Andy, Logan, Arthur, Deva, Amandeep, and me. I wrote the script the day before the test, in class (my cast members were pestering me to write it quick and hand it to them, but I told them I could only write when I get a brainwave, or when I'm inspired). I told them what to bring, and the next day I told them what the main story line was. I wrote very brief dialogues, telling them to improvise when on "stage". It was a success. All 4 A's for everyone! The play had so much humor that people actually teared while they laughed, and the teacher was having a hard time controlling herself...and the class. My classroom was chaotic. People/students/the audience (whatever!) roared with laughter (I later found out that the noise was heard throughout the block, and the one beside it!). The play peaked when we let loose the 'yo momma' jokes. If it was humorous before, it was the screaming riot now! Oh, and did I mention that the play was a musical? It was, sort of. I managed to write some short, simple lines, and then got Arthur to put a tune to it. The fact that one of my cast members was tone deaf only added to the amusement of those who could actually hear it.

Last year I also joined the Paulian Fencing Club, after a long, grueling debate with Arthur (he got me into it!). I quickly realized that my thin body and long limbs gave me a considerable advantage. It also helped that I could improvise. We had a competition among ourselves, and I emerged second (I'll beat you yet Nathan!!). Then we also had the competition against KTJ. That game was good. It was a continuous game, so we each add in our own points by scoring. In the end, the team with the most points wins. At first we were loosing...badly. 12-4. Then we managed to rise up, taking a 17-15 lead, thanks to Christopher and Sirajuddin, but then KTJ came back with force, crushing us to a 41-26 drop. But then I came in. I took on their team captain. In 10 minutes, I managed to take him out 13 times. He only got 4. I managed to slam KTJ, wiping off their smug smiles. It was now 39-45. But time ran out, so I could not win any more points. The end result was 50-43. At the end of the day, I was black and blue all over, with some pretty nasty red lines (caused by the swinging of the blade. It acts as some kind of metal cane).

I met the fencing club members at the start of the year. Now it's as if I've known them all my life. I met my other class friends at the start of the year (most of them anyway), but by the end of the year, we were (and are) inseparable. We buy each other drinks, get each other out of trouble in class, cover up for each other, etc. Let's face it, I made friends with a bunch of freaks. Now I'm one of them. 2008 was a blast.

But where does God fit into all this? All the events last year, and I hardly think of Him. Sure, I pray everyday, do my devotion. My faith has gone up several notches etc. He has given me a wonderful year, and I thank Him for that. He has given me wonderful experiences, and taught me much. I have changed, make no mistake, I have. Though I havent changed for the better much. It still is hard to follow all His rules and commandments (the water bomb incident confirms that). I am confident that by the end of this year, 09, I will have changed for the better. That is my hope, my prayer. To God be the Glory!

Oh, one final touch: Flame On!

Just something I was thinking about

2008-06-08T00:48:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone! I was thinking about one of the famous stories in the bible, David and Goliath, and was just marveling about David.

David's stone was a bullet of faith, launched from his sling at about 100 to 120 mph, and with sufficient momentum to break through Goliath's skull bone. Therefore we can assume, from David's success in killing both lion and bear, that he was a fast runner and an accurate shot, probably able to put a stone into a 3 or 4 inch circle from a distance of about 20 to 25 feet (the accuracy of a pro baseball pitcher).

But what i was concentrating more on was not David, but David's antagonist, Goliath. Goliath the giant was a descendant of an evil race of giants during Noah's time called the Nephilim. Look up Genesis 6. The Sons of God (the one third cast out of heaven along with Lucifer) came to the daughters of Man and bore them children, hence the evil breed of giants. It was said that they inhabited the earth. Notice how these giants living on earth are echoed in legends and myths of nearly every ancient culture.

Which brings me to the other thing i was pondering over. Satan did not want Jesus to come and save his people from sin right? He would do anything to stop it from happening, right? Consider this:

Once it was made known that the Messiah was to come through Abraham:

Abraham's wife Sarah was taken by the Pharaoh in Egypt (thinking she was Abraham's sister) before Issac was born (Genesis 12)
Abraham's wife Sarah was taken by Abimelech, king of Gerar before Issac was born (Genesis20)

The attempted destruction of the entire male line of Israel in Egypt (Exodus 1:15-16):

15. And the king of Egypt spake to the Hebrew midwives, of which the name of one was Shiphrah and the name of the other, Puah;
16. And he said "when ye do the office of a midwife to the Hebrew women, see them upon the stools; if it be a son, then ye shall kill him, but if it be a Daughter, than she shall live.

The fact that there were giants inhabiting Canaan before the Israelites (Numbers 13:32-33)

After David's line was singled out (2 Samuel 7):

Jehoram killed all of his brothers.

The Arabians slew all his children except Ahaziah (2 Chronicles 22).

When Ahaziah died, Athallah killed all the royal heirs of the house of Judah (2 Chronicles 22:10). The babe Joash alone was rescued, and for six years the Jehovah's word was at stake.

Hezekiah was attacked by the king of Assyria when he was still childless (Isaiah 36:1).

Haman's conspiracy against the Jews (Esther 3).

Before Jesus was born:

Joseph wanted to divorce Mary because she was found with Jesus (Matthew 1:19).

Herod sought Jesus's life (Matthew 2).

After Jesus was born:

'Cast Thyself down was Satan's temptation.

Also the two storms on the lake.

Think about it.
Just a speculation.

Aspirers 25th Anniversary

2008-06-05T10:11:00.000-07:00

As some of you many know, Aspirers recently had its 25th anniversary. For those of you who attended, the anniversary is not something you wanna forget in a hurry.

We started off by breaking up into our animal groups (the theme for the anniversary was Lions Pride). It was in these groups that the games (introduced to us by our beloved emcees Aaron Chelliah and Joel Chong) were played. My group, the smart, fast, and cunning Owls won!!

The worship, in my opinion was second only to Pastor Ben's short but meaningful message in the 'best event in the anniversary' list. I don't know what those ex-aspirers thought of the worship (we weren't exactly singing old hymns, get what I mean?) but all i gotta say is Rock On!!

Oh, yes, the current Aspirers did a tribal dance, and let me tell you, it was spectacular, with the drum beats and the tribal music (taken from The Lion King 1). I'm sure everyone there enjoyed it, even though it was kinda scary (in a fascinating way) at parts.

We also watched a video on the history of Aspirers, which brought back old memories to the ex-Aspirers.

There were 2 plays. One of them, Watch the Lamb, was done by me and my team. We had the Aspirers Take The Stage a few weeks ago, and my group came as runner up. The part i enjoyed most in the play was when we got to splatter Shannon's t shirt with red slime, to make it look like blood (I don't have a pic of that, unfortunately).

The other play was the skit 'Lonely' done by the Agape Drama Team, headed by Jenny Woon (Aunty Jenny). It shows how teenagers tend to put up an act on the outside, but feel very lonely inside, and how we may feel lonely, but we are never alone, cause God is with us.

Then there was the The-Js (Joel C, Joel T, Jonathan L, Jian and Jeremy T.) who created a band and emerged winners for Aspirers Take The Stage. Their song was really touching and was ideal for Christian youths.

Then there is the FOOD!! The food, though nothing fancy was tasty. All of us enjoyed the food. Then we sang the Birthday song to Aspirers, and cut a cake. It was as fun as it was tasty.

The anniversary was all done by the Aspirers, and we had all put a lot of effort into it. After Sunday service, we had from 12 to 3.45 to transform the Sanctuary into the 'jungle' in which the anniversary took place. The Aspirers worked tirelessly, knowing that we were doing it for God, thanking him for blessing the Aspirers for so many years.

After the event, we were all exhausted, and proud that we had made this a success, with only the slightest/no bumps.

After all this, I juz wanna look back and thank the Lord for letting everything so smoothly. There were so many things out of our control, but nothing unbecoming happened. In the end, all glory and honor to Him.

A very powerful encounter with God

2008-06-02T10:40:00.000-07:00

This is my very first blog entry, so here goes:

It was during the Aspirers Retreat 2008, on the second night, when Pastor Willard asked us to give up everything for God. There were some things that I...well, lets just say i was not in a hurry to give up just yet...because of my hormones, my love for fun (I'm the happy go lucky type) I found it hard to give up certain things.

There was a battle raging inside me, so when Pastor Willard had the alter call, i felt the need to go. As i went, I had that familiar feeling of knowing what was about to happen was not in my control. As the pastor asked me to lift my hands up and pray, i just opened my heart, and prayed more earnestly than i had ever done before.

It was at that moment i surrendered everything, and I felt God. Tears began to flow uncontrolled, as i truly felt His love. (this should be a very private thing, i know. But everyone who went for the Aspirers Retreat saw it, and more than half of them experienced it for themselves, so whats there to hide) As the pastor finished praying for me, i moved to the back of the room, to let the next person (Alethea Loo, i think) go 4 the altar call. I felt a tingling sensation from my legs to my head, like the aftershock of an electric shock, only much milder and not painful. But it made my legs weak, causing me to kneel even as I was crying and praying.

One by one people lined up at the back of the room, weeping and praying. The entire room was filled with prayer and you could feel the presence of God there. Ever since that day, I have tried (and failed, many times over) to live by Gods commandments. It is not easy. At first, I thought all I had to do was ask God for strength, and just 'live like a saint'. But as i tried, i realized how much more difficult it is, and how much more i needed God. Changing my life from the Azriel-happy go lucky, live in the present, careless about everyone else and not worrying about the future-Chelliah to the Azriel-walk with God, obeying His commandments-Chelliah was and is not easy. But then again, who ever said a Christian life is an easy one?

The commandment 'love your neighbor as yourself' is really very hard to obey, especially when the class teacher is yelling her head off at the class. Most people almost never see me angry, never hear me shout in anger, as in really really angry. But those who know me close enough-family members, very close friends, God-know that i am very quick to anger if I'm tired or irritated. Its true, i do not shout when I'm angry, but i can reply with cold calmness, ruthlessly bringing out the bad points in others, that makes up for any amount of shouting or screeching. I'm not proud of it in any way. It, i find, is one of the greatest barriers in my walk with God.
The fact that my parents are the type who, if start scolding, never stop, does not help ether.
I'm not blaming them. I am still trying, and failing to live like Jesus did. But I'll never give up trying.

What I want to say, is, there's no easy way if you want to live your life for God on earth. I've tried to find a loophole in all his commandments, and believe you me, if there is a loophole, I'd have found it. Thats the grim truth of all this. We Christians have to deny ourselves, take up the cross, and follow him. But I want you all to remember this, that for all we suffer on earth for Christ, we will be rewarded for it in Heaven (the Bema Judgment = Judgment of Rewards)

I hope this (referring to the entry above) will be a blessing to all who read it =)