Hi Boys
I think I have completed my second rounds of checks. I should have commented all except the following boys. If yours is still not checked by me, please highlight to me.
The following boys are to send in their essay latest by this Friday:
1 Goh Cher Yang (not found )
2 Ivan Ng ( not found)
3 Joseph ( not found)
4 Viyshnu ( not found)
Please resend your URL address for linking.
At this point, I would like to encourage you to give your critical inputs to your friend's entry, and invite more friends to look into your essay for 'blindspots'. I would leave the grammatical check to you. Since it is meant for competition, I would have to be fair to all contestants by not changing too much for you.
Can I have your nominations to the top three essays in this class?
Hear from you soon
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
More insights into writing a narrative
Dear boys
Here is an extract from one student, you are invited to learn and make comment if you agree to how he depicts his understanding of how each element of a narrative contribute to a good story.
Let me hear from you!
Ms Neo
( why a plot, characters, settings and twists are important for a story @ 12:30) by Tay Bok Chong ( VERSUS 3F 2008 )
Elements of a story are generally the characters, settings, and twist. These elements lead to the plot. A plot itself is the structure of the whole story. To captivate readers, an interesting plot is the crux.
If plot was a tree, settings would be the root, characters the leaf, and twists are the fruits. Look, settings are the foundations of every plot. Each plot is a new beginning and the pre-requisite of having readers to follow up with the rest of the stories. Therefore, the setting serves the purpose, that of, the root of the tree, without it, it would simply be impossible to introduce the rest of the plot.
Every character is different. These character and their traits brings different outcomes when it comes to decision making, thus leading to curiosity of readers. For example, how a poor spendthrift and a rich miser would react differently to the same problem. The function of characters is that of the leaves of a tree. It provides food for thought and also changes the plot itself. It can be made away with, but, without it, the plot will be dull and lifeless, similar to a tree with no leaves.
A twist is just like the fruits. Not always available, yet very much desire for. The twist must be a good one, or it may just spoil the whole plot. The twist is the final judgment to a story, whether it is a good of a bad one, like that of, a tree - a fruit tree. The fruit is the item that judgment would be passed upon, and allow the consumers to see for themselves if it was worth their time inspecting the whole tree.
Extracted from http://thatenglishblog.blogspot.com/ on 29th Jan 2008
Here is an extract from one student, you are invited to learn and make comment if you agree to how he depicts his understanding of how each element of a narrative contribute to a good story.
Let me hear from you!
Ms Neo
( why a plot, characters, settings and twists are important for a story @ 12:30) by Tay Bok Chong ( VERSUS 3F 2008 )
Elements of a story are generally the characters, settings, and twist. These elements lead to the plot. A plot itself is the structure of the whole story. To captivate readers, an interesting plot is the crux.
If plot was a tree, settings would be the root, characters the leaf, and twists are the fruits. Look, settings are the foundations of every plot. Each plot is a new beginning and the pre-requisite of having readers to follow up with the rest of the stories. Therefore, the setting serves the purpose, that of, the root of the tree, without it, it would simply be impossible to introduce the rest of the plot.
Every character is different. These character and their traits brings different outcomes when it comes to decision making, thus leading to curiosity of readers. For example, how a poor spendthrift and a rich miser would react differently to the same problem. The function of characters is that of the leaves of a tree. It provides food for thought and also changes the plot itself. It can be made away with, but, without it, the plot will be dull and lifeless, similar to a tree with no leaves.
A twist is just like the fruits. Not always available, yet very much desire for. The twist must be a good one, or it may just spoil the whole plot. The twist is the final judgment to a story, whether it is a good of a bad one, like that of, a tree - a fruit tree. The fruit is the item that judgment would be passed upon, and allow the consumers to see for themselves if it was worth their time inspecting the whole tree.
Extracted from http://thatenglishblog.blogspot.com/ on 29th Jan 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
VS DramaFest - Calling for Script Writers!
Dear Boys,
VS DramaFest will be held on 18th Apr(Fri) at the Jubilee Hall.
It is a cultural tradition since time immemorial and one that showcases
some of the brightest drama stars in VS.
We are now currently in the process of gathering and selecting
scripts from students.
IF you can't sing, paint or play an instrument, showcase your talents in writing. We are expecting the budding writers to give it a go! Before you know, your master pieces are being staged at Jubilee Hall! Bear in mind, a script writer is different from a director, you may not even be involved in acting. Just write and allow your imagination to go wild!
As each EL class is expected to submit ONE script by 31/1 (Thur). If you truly want me to submit yours for the DRAMA Committee, I hope you can write a short synopsis of the story as precursor for the ease of reading.
****Some guidelines for you****
- Duration of play (10-15min)
- Synopsis (What is it about? Characters? Where is the setting/place?)
- Structure of a Play (Beginning/Middle/End)
- Genre/themes eg, comedy, spoof, musical, school, internet, crime etc
Though this is optional a task, I still hope to see those createive juices put to work. Hope to see them scripts coming in soon by end of next week.
To our future...millers, grishams, minfongs....even Shakepeare!
Oh behalf of Mr Tan,
Thanks!
Daniel
ELDDS - Drama
VS DramaFest will be held on 18th Apr(Fri) at the Jubilee Hall.
It is a cultural tradition since time immemorial and one that showcases
some of the brightest drama stars in VS.
We are now currently in the process of gathering and selecting
scripts from students.
IF you can't sing, paint or play an instrument, showcase your talents in writing. We are expecting the budding writers to give it a go! Before you know, your master pieces are being staged at Jubilee Hall! Bear in mind, a script writer is different from a director, you may not even be involved in acting. Just write and allow your imagination to go wild!
As each EL class is expected to submit ONE script by 31/1 (Thur). If you truly want me to submit yours for the DRAMA Committee, I hope you can write a short synopsis of the story as precursor for the ease of reading.
****Some guidelines for you****
- Duration of play (10-15min)
- Synopsis (What is it about? Characters? Where is the setting/place?)
- Structure of a Play (Beginning/Middle/End)
- Genre/themes eg, comedy, spoof, musical, school, internet, crime etc
Though this is optional a task, I still hope to see those createive juices put to work. Hope to see them scripts coming in soon by end of next week.
To our future...millers, grishams, minfongs....even Shakepeare!
Oh behalf of Mr Tan,
Thanks!
Daniel
ELDDS - Drama
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Where are the rest?
Hi boys
I have a good time reading your essays. Many are promising writers.
Beside posting yours and reading the comments which come in for your post, I hope you can access your friends' writing and savour some impeccable master pieces too,
Sadly, some links are not well established, and some have yet to post. I wonder what happen here.
I will declare the names soon. Before I do that, I shall grant another 24hrs grace to allow some of you to hook up. Do alert me to give priority to your blogs.
So keep your posts coming in.
I have a good time reading your essays. Many are promising writers.
Beside posting yours and reading the comments which come in for your post, I hope you can access your friends' writing and savour some impeccable master pieces too,
Sadly, some links are not well established, and some have yet to post. I wonder what happen here.
I will declare the names soon. Before I do that, I shall grant another 24hrs grace to allow some of you to hook up. Do alert me to give priority to your blogs.
So keep your posts coming in.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Completion of Commonwealth Essay and Vocabulary Practice
Dear boys
Look like I have to apologise for the mixed up dates for your submission. I have pushed forward the date to this week, thinking I can use the weekend to do selection.
So let me pen down my instruction again. This set of instructions is meant for compliance by NEXT MONDAY!
1 Complete your draft ( about 750words) and post. After you post, invite your friends to make a comment, latest by FRIDAY.
2 Read a friend's essay and make comment to their characterisation, plot, setting or any twists and post your useful insights in order to facilitate any editing he may need. You should read twice at least to register the plot, then the focused elements you want to comment. It is heartening for any artist to be appreciated. Do give ample compliments when they are due to the author! LATEST BY SATURDAY.
3 Complete the vocabulary worksheet, thanks to Vincent who is willing to share this sheet. It works for him, how about you? Give it a go at the discipline of word- building exercise. If it is useful to you, we can do one-sheet a week. Imagine the 1800words you learnt after 30weeks of the academic year in 2008. Raring to go in WORD BUILDING! SUBMIT on MONDAY.
4 Plagiarism Warning
Plagiarism is a form of intellectual theft. You are 'stealing' some one's work and claiming them to be yours. Imagine your essay is being copied/adopted by other writers and they won this competition? How would you feel? SO let's observe Intellectual Property rights.
Therefore, for those who have done their research from any websites, please do not copy word for word, and if you do, quote them in proper punctuations! And PLEASE acknowledge the source of information by stating the URL address at the end of your essay. IF you want to learn to cite your source properly, you can look into some website on CITATIONS that would be useful.
5 NARRATIVE WRITING on MONDAY (60min, 30% of CA1)
You may want to do your own revision on the elements of a narrative again! Nothing beat practice!
Please bring your Resource Book!
Enough for the day, enjoy writing, reading and blogging your experience.
Ms Neo
Look like I have to apologise for the mixed up dates for your submission. I have pushed forward the date to this week, thinking I can use the weekend to do selection.
So let me pen down my instruction again. This set of instructions is meant for compliance by NEXT MONDAY!
1 Complete your draft ( about 750words) and post. After you post, invite your friends to make a comment, latest by FRIDAY.
2 Read a friend's essay and make comment to their characterisation, plot, setting or any twists and post your useful insights in order to facilitate any editing he may need. You should read twice at least to register the plot, then the focused elements you want to comment. It is heartening for any artist to be appreciated. Do give ample compliments when they are due to the author! LATEST BY SATURDAY.
3 Complete the vocabulary worksheet, thanks to Vincent who is willing to share this sheet. It works for him, how about you? Give it a go at the discipline of word- building exercise. If it is useful to you, we can do one-sheet a week. Imagine the 1800words you learnt after 30weeks of the academic year in 2008. Raring to go in WORD BUILDING! SUBMIT on MONDAY.
4 Plagiarism Warning
Plagiarism is a form of intellectual theft. You are 'stealing' some one's work and claiming them to be yours. Imagine your essay is being copied/adopted by other writers and they won this competition? How would you feel? SO let's observe Intellectual Property rights.
Therefore, for those who have done their research from any websites, please do not copy word for word, and if you do, quote them in proper punctuations! And PLEASE acknowledge the source of information by stating the URL address at the end of your essay. IF you want to learn to cite your source properly, you can look into some website on CITATIONS that would be useful.
5 NARRATIVE WRITING on MONDAY (60min, 30% of CA1)
You may want to do your own revision on the elements of a narrative again! Nothing beat practice!
Please bring your Resource Book!
Enough for the day, enjoy writing, reading and blogging your experience.
Ms Neo
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
What the Modern Woman Wants
Dear boys,
Here's the story I shared in class. Can you tell me an aspect of Narrative that this author has done sucessfully in this story? Read and enjoy it again.
Ms Neo
What the Modern Woman Wants
The old woman sat in the backseat of the magenta convertible as it careened down the highway, clutching tightly to the plastic bag on her lap, afraid it may be kidnapped by the wind. She was not used to such speed, with trembling hands she pulled the seatbelt tighter but was careful not to touch the patent leather seats with her callused fingers, her daughter had warned her not to dirty it, “Fingerprints show very clearly on white, Ma”.
Her daughter, Bee Choo, was driving and talking on her sleek silver mobile phone using big words the old woman could barely understand. “Finance” “Liquidation” “Assets” “Investments”… Her voice was crisp and important and had an unfamiliar lilt to it. Her Bee Choo sounded like one of those foreign girls on television. She was speaking in an American accent.
The old lady clucked her tongue in disapproval.
“I absolutely cannot have this. We have to sell!” Her daughter exclaimed agitatedly as she stepped on the accelerator; her perfectly manicured fingernails gripping onto the steering wheel in irritation.
“I can’t DEAL with this anymore!” she yelled as she clicked the phone shut and hurled it angrily toward the backseat.
The mobile phone hit the old woman on the forehead and nestled soundlessly into her lap. She calmly picked it up and handed it to her daughter.
“Sorry, Ma” she said losing the American pretense and switching to Mandarin. “I have a big client in America. There have been a lot of problems.”
The old lady nodded knowingly. Her daughter was big and important.
Bee Choo stared at her mother from the rear view window, wondering what she was thinking. Her mother’s wrinkled countenance always carried the same cryptic look.
The phone began to ring again, an artificially cheerful digital tune, which broke the awkward silence.
“Hello Beatrice! Yes, this is Elaine.”
Elaine. The old woman cringed. I didn’t name her Elaine. She remembered her daughter telling her, how an English name was very important for “networking”, Chinese ones being easily forgotten.
“Oh no, I can’t see you for lunch today. I have to take the ancient relic to the temple for her weird daily prayer ritual.”
Ancient Relic. The old woman understood perfectly it was referring to her. Her daughter always assumed that her mother’s silence meant she did not comprehend.
“Yes, I know! My car seats will be reeking of joss sticks!”
The old woman pursed her lips tightly, her hands gripping her plastic bag in defence.
The car curved smoothly into the temple courtyard. It looked almost garish next to the dull sheen of the ageing temple’s roof. The old woman got out of the back seat, and made her unhurried way to the main hall.
Her daughter stepped out of the car in her business suit and stilettos and reapplied her lipstick as she made her brisk way to her mother’s side.
“Ma, I’ll wait outside. I have an important phone call to make,” she said, not bothering to hide her disgust at the pungent fumes of incense.
The old lady hobbled into the temple hall and lit a joss stick, she knelt down solemnly and whispered her now familiar daily prayer to the Gods.
Thank you God of the Sky, you have given my daughter luck all these years. Everything I prayed for, you have given her. She has everything a young woman in this world could possibly want. She has a big house with a swimming pool, a maid to help her, as she is too clumsy to sew or cook.
Her love life has been blessed; she is engaged to a rich and handsome angmoh man. Her company is now the top financial firm and even men listen to what she says. She lives the perfect life. You have given her everything except happiness. I ask that the gods be merciful to her even if she has lost her roots while reaping the harvest of success. What you see is not true, she is a filial daughter to me. She gives me a room in her big house and provides well for me. She is rude to me only because I affect her happiness. A young woman does not want to be hindered by her old mother. It is my fault.
The old lady prayed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes. Finally, with her head bowed in reverence she planted the half burnt joss stick into an urn of smouldering ashes.
She bowed once more.
The old woman had been praying for her daughter for thirty-two years. When her stomach was round like a melon, she came to the temple and prayed that it was a son.
Then the time was ripe and the baby slipped out of her womb, bawling and adorable with fat thighs and pink cheeks, but unmistakably a girl. Her husband had kicked and punched her for producing a useless baby who could not work or carry the family name.
Still, the woman returned to the temple with her new-born girl tried to her waist in a sarong and prayed that her daughter would grow up and have everything she ever wanted. Her husband left her and she prayed that her daughter would never have to depend on a man.
She prayed every day that her daughter would be a great woman, the woman that she, meek and uneducated, could never become. A woman with nengkan; the ability to do anything she set her mind to. A woman who commanded respect in the hearts of men. When she opened her mouth to speak, precious pearls would fall out and men would listen.
She will not be like me, the woman prayed as she watched her daughter grow up and drift away from her, speaking a language she scarcely understood. She watched her daughter transform from a quiet girl, to one who openly defied her, calling her laotu; old-fashioned. She wanted her mother to be “modern”, a word so new there was no Chinese word for it.
Now her daughter was too clever for her and the old woman wondered why she had prayed like that. The gods had been faithful to her persistent prayer, but the wealth and success that poured forth so richly had buried the girl’s roots and now she stood, faceless, with no identity, bound to the soil of her ancestors by only a string of origami banknotes.
Her daughter had forgotten her mother’s values. Her wants were so ephemeral; that of a modern woman. Power, Wealth, access to the best fashion boutiques, and yet her daughter had not found true happiness. The old woman knew that you could find happiness with much less. When her daughter left the earth everything she had would count for nothing. People would look to her legacy and say that she was a great woman, but she would be forgotten once the wind blows over, like the ashes of burnt paper convertibles and mansions.
The old woman wished she could go back and erase all her big hopes and prayers for her daughter; now she had only one want: That her daughter be happy.
She looked out of the temple gate. She saw her daughter speaking on the phone, her brow furrowed with anger and worry. Being at the top is not good, the woman thought, there is only one way to go form there – down.
The old woman carefully unfolded the plastic bag and spread out a packet of beehoon in front of the altar.
Her daughter often mocked her for worshipping porcelain Gods. How could she pray to them so faithfully and expect pieces of ceramic to fly to her aid? But her daughter had her own gods too, idols of wealth, success and power that she was enslaved to and worshipped everyday of her life Everyday was a quest for the idols, and the idols she worshipped counted for nothing in eternity. All the wants her daughter had would slowly suck the life out of her and leave her, an empty soulless shell at the altar.
The old lady watched her joss tick. The dull heat had left a teetering grey stem that was on the danger of collapsing.
Modern woman nowadays, the old lady sighed in resignation, as she bowed to the east one final time to end her ritual. Modern woman nowadays want so much that they lose their souls and wonder why they cannot find it.
Her joss stick disintegrated into a soft grey powder.
She met her daughter outside the temple, the same look of worry and frustration was etched on her daughter’s face. An empty expression, as if she was ploughing through the soil of her wants looking for the one thing that would sow the seeds of happiness.
They climbed into the convertible in silence and her daughter drove along the highway, this time not as fast as she had done before.
“Ma,” Bee Choo finally said. “I don’t know how to put this. Mark and I have been talking about it and we plan to move out of the big house. The property market is good now, and we managed to a buyer willing to pay seven million for it. We decided we’d prefer a cosier penthouse apartment instead. We found a perfect one in Orchard Road. Once we move in to out apartment we plan to get rid of the maid, so we can have more space to ourselves…”
The old woman nodded knowingly.
Bee Choo swallowed hard. “We’d get someone to come in to do the housework and we can eat out…but once the maid is gone, there won’t be anyone to look after you. You will be awfully lonely at home and besides that the apartment is rather small. There won’t be space. We thought about it for a long time, and we decided the best thing for you is if you moved to a Home. There’s one near Hougang, it’s a Christian home, a very nice one.”
The old woman did not raise an eyebrow.
“I’ve been there, the matron is willing to take you in. It’s beautiful with gardens and lots of old people to keep you company! I hardly have time for you, you’d be happier there.”
“You’d be happier there, really.” Her daughter repeated as if to affirm herself.
This time the old woman had no plastic bag of food offerings to cling tightly to; she bit her lip and fastened her seat belt, as if it would protect her from a daughter who did not want her anymore. She sunk deep into the leather seat, letting her shoulders sag, and her fingers trace the white seat.
“Ma?” her daughter asked, searching the rear view window for her mother. “Is everything okay?”
What had to be done, had to be done. “Yes” she said firmly, louder than she intended. “if it will make you happy,” she added more quietly.
“It’s for you Ma! You’ll be happier there. You can move there tomorrow, I already got the maid to pack your things.” Elaine said triumphantly, mentally ticking yet another item off her agenda.
“I knew everything would be fine.”
Elaine smiled widely; she felt liberated. Perhaps getting rid of her mother would make her happier. She had thought about it. It seemed the only hindrance in her pursuit of happiness. She was happy now. She had everything a modern woman ever wanted; Money, Status, Career, Love, Power and now, Freedom, without her mother and her old-fashioned ways to weigh her down…
Yes, she was free. Her phone buzzed urgently, she picked it up and read the message, still beaming from ear to ear. “Stocks 10% increase!” Yes, things were definitely beginning to look up for her…
And while searching for the meaning of life in the luminance of her hand phone screen, the old woman in the backseat became invisible, and she did not see the tears.
Amanda Chong Wei-Zhen
RGS, Singapore
First Prize Winner of the 2004 Commonwealth Essay Competition – Class A
Here's the story I shared in class. Can you tell me an aspect of Narrative that this author has done sucessfully in this story? Read and enjoy it again.
Ms Neo
What the Modern Woman Wants
The old woman sat in the backseat of the magenta convertible as it careened down the highway, clutching tightly to the plastic bag on her lap, afraid it may be kidnapped by the wind. She was not used to such speed, with trembling hands she pulled the seatbelt tighter but was careful not to touch the patent leather seats with her callused fingers, her daughter had warned her not to dirty it, “Fingerprints show very clearly on white, Ma”.
Her daughter, Bee Choo, was driving and talking on her sleek silver mobile phone using big words the old woman could barely understand. “Finance” “Liquidation” “Assets” “Investments”… Her voice was crisp and important and had an unfamiliar lilt to it. Her Bee Choo sounded like one of those foreign girls on television. She was speaking in an American accent.
The old lady clucked her tongue in disapproval.
“I absolutely cannot have this. We have to sell!” Her daughter exclaimed agitatedly as she stepped on the accelerator; her perfectly manicured fingernails gripping onto the steering wheel in irritation.
“I can’t DEAL with this anymore!” she yelled as she clicked the phone shut and hurled it angrily toward the backseat.
The mobile phone hit the old woman on the forehead and nestled soundlessly into her lap. She calmly picked it up and handed it to her daughter.
“Sorry, Ma” she said losing the American pretense and switching to Mandarin. “I have a big client in America. There have been a lot of problems.”
The old lady nodded knowingly. Her daughter was big and important.
Bee Choo stared at her mother from the rear view window, wondering what she was thinking. Her mother’s wrinkled countenance always carried the same cryptic look.
The phone began to ring again, an artificially cheerful digital tune, which broke the awkward silence.
“Hello Beatrice! Yes, this is Elaine.”
Elaine. The old woman cringed. I didn’t name her Elaine. She remembered her daughter telling her, how an English name was very important for “networking”, Chinese ones being easily forgotten.
“Oh no, I can’t see you for lunch today. I have to take the ancient relic to the temple for her weird daily prayer ritual.”
Ancient Relic. The old woman understood perfectly it was referring to her. Her daughter always assumed that her mother’s silence meant she did not comprehend.
“Yes, I know! My car seats will be reeking of joss sticks!”
The old woman pursed her lips tightly, her hands gripping her plastic bag in defence.
The car curved smoothly into the temple courtyard. It looked almost garish next to the dull sheen of the ageing temple’s roof. The old woman got out of the back seat, and made her unhurried way to the main hall.
Her daughter stepped out of the car in her business suit and stilettos and reapplied her lipstick as she made her brisk way to her mother’s side.
“Ma, I’ll wait outside. I have an important phone call to make,” she said, not bothering to hide her disgust at the pungent fumes of incense.
The old lady hobbled into the temple hall and lit a joss stick, she knelt down solemnly and whispered her now familiar daily prayer to the Gods.
Thank you God of the Sky, you have given my daughter luck all these years. Everything I prayed for, you have given her. She has everything a young woman in this world could possibly want. She has a big house with a swimming pool, a maid to help her, as she is too clumsy to sew or cook.
Her love life has been blessed; she is engaged to a rich and handsome angmoh man. Her company is now the top financial firm and even men listen to what she says. She lives the perfect life. You have given her everything except happiness. I ask that the gods be merciful to her even if she has lost her roots while reaping the harvest of success. What you see is not true, she is a filial daughter to me. She gives me a room in her big house and provides well for me. She is rude to me only because I affect her happiness. A young woman does not want to be hindered by her old mother. It is my fault.
The old lady prayed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes. Finally, with her head bowed in reverence she planted the half burnt joss stick into an urn of smouldering ashes.
She bowed once more.
The old woman had been praying for her daughter for thirty-two years. When her stomach was round like a melon, she came to the temple and prayed that it was a son.
Then the time was ripe and the baby slipped out of her womb, bawling and adorable with fat thighs and pink cheeks, but unmistakably a girl. Her husband had kicked and punched her for producing a useless baby who could not work or carry the family name.
Still, the woman returned to the temple with her new-born girl tried to her waist in a sarong and prayed that her daughter would grow up and have everything she ever wanted. Her husband left her and she prayed that her daughter would never have to depend on a man.
She prayed every day that her daughter would be a great woman, the woman that she, meek and uneducated, could never become. A woman with nengkan; the ability to do anything she set her mind to. A woman who commanded respect in the hearts of men. When she opened her mouth to speak, precious pearls would fall out and men would listen.
She will not be like me, the woman prayed as she watched her daughter grow up and drift away from her, speaking a language she scarcely understood. She watched her daughter transform from a quiet girl, to one who openly defied her, calling her laotu; old-fashioned. She wanted her mother to be “modern”, a word so new there was no Chinese word for it.
Now her daughter was too clever for her and the old woman wondered why she had prayed like that. The gods had been faithful to her persistent prayer, but the wealth and success that poured forth so richly had buried the girl’s roots and now she stood, faceless, with no identity, bound to the soil of her ancestors by only a string of origami banknotes.
Her daughter had forgotten her mother’s values. Her wants were so ephemeral; that of a modern woman. Power, Wealth, access to the best fashion boutiques, and yet her daughter had not found true happiness. The old woman knew that you could find happiness with much less. When her daughter left the earth everything she had would count for nothing. People would look to her legacy and say that she was a great woman, but she would be forgotten once the wind blows over, like the ashes of burnt paper convertibles and mansions.
The old woman wished she could go back and erase all her big hopes and prayers for her daughter; now she had only one want: That her daughter be happy.
She looked out of the temple gate. She saw her daughter speaking on the phone, her brow furrowed with anger and worry. Being at the top is not good, the woman thought, there is only one way to go form there – down.
The old woman carefully unfolded the plastic bag and spread out a packet of beehoon in front of the altar.
Her daughter often mocked her for worshipping porcelain Gods. How could she pray to them so faithfully and expect pieces of ceramic to fly to her aid? But her daughter had her own gods too, idols of wealth, success and power that she was enslaved to and worshipped everyday of her life Everyday was a quest for the idols, and the idols she worshipped counted for nothing in eternity. All the wants her daughter had would slowly suck the life out of her and leave her, an empty soulless shell at the altar.
The old lady watched her joss tick. The dull heat had left a teetering grey stem that was on the danger of collapsing.
Modern woman nowadays, the old lady sighed in resignation, as she bowed to the east one final time to end her ritual. Modern woman nowadays want so much that they lose their souls and wonder why they cannot find it.
Her joss stick disintegrated into a soft grey powder.
She met her daughter outside the temple, the same look of worry and frustration was etched on her daughter’s face. An empty expression, as if she was ploughing through the soil of her wants looking for the one thing that would sow the seeds of happiness.
They climbed into the convertible in silence and her daughter drove along the highway, this time not as fast as she had done before.
“Ma,” Bee Choo finally said. “I don’t know how to put this. Mark and I have been talking about it and we plan to move out of the big house. The property market is good now, and we managed to a buyer willing to pay seven million for it. We decided we’d prefer a cosier penthouse apartment instead. We found a perfect one in Orchard Road. Once we move in to out apartment we plan to get rid of the maid, so we can have more space to ourselves…”
The old woman nodded knowingly.
Bee Choo swallowed hard. “We’d get someone to come in to do the housework and we can eat out…but once the maid is gone, there won’t be anyone to look after you. You will be awfully lonely at home and besides that the apartment is rather small. There won’t be space. We thought about it for a long time, and we decided the best thing for you is if you moved to a Home. There’s one near Hougang, it’s a Christian home, a very nice one.”
The old woman did not raise an eyebrow.
“I’ve been there, the matron is willing to take you in. It’s beautiful with gardens and lots of old people to keep you company! I hardly have time for you, you’d be happier there.”
“You’d be happier there, really.” Her daughter repeated as if to affirm herself.
This time the old woman had no plastic bag of food offerings to cling tightly to; she bit her lip and fastened her seat belt, as if it would protect her from a daughter who did not want her anymore. She sunk deep into the leather seat, letting her shoulders sag, and her fingers trace the white seat.
“Ma?” her daughter asked, searching the rear view window for her mother. “Is everything okay?”
What had to be done, had to be done. “Yes” she said firmly, louder than she intended. “if it will make you happy,” she added more quietly.
“It’s for you Ma! You’ll be happier there. You can move there tomorrow, I already got the maid to pack your things.” Elaine said triumphantly, mentally ticking yet another item off her agenda.
“I knew everything would be fine.”
Elaine smiled widely; she felt liberated. Perhaps getting rid of her mother would make her happier. She had thought about it. It seemed the only hindrance in her pursuit of happiness. She was happy now. She had everything a modern woman ever wanted; Money, Status, Career, Love, Power and now, Freedom, without her mother and her old-fashioned ways to weigh her down…
Yes, she was free. Her phone buzzed urgently, she picked it up and read the message, still beaming from ear to ear. “Stocks 10% increase!” Yes, things were definitely beginning to look up for her…
And while searching for the meaning of life in the luminance of her hand phone screen, the old woman in the backseat became invisible, and she did not see the tears.
Amanda Chong Wei-Zhen
RGS, Singapore
First Prize Winner of the 2004 Commonwealth Essay Competition – Class A
Monday, January 14, 2008
Class Matters
Dear boys
Here's a list of a administrative matters which need your close attention and cooperation:
1 Money matters : Payment and collection by Wed ( 15th Wed). Total $71 to school and $33 for English Reading Programme which you will get a Newsweek Mag and a Broader Perspective (really an informative publication). Should you have home subscription already, you will only pay $25, instead of $33.
2 Overseas Adventure Camp ( 5-8th March, Week 10)
Please ensure 6-months validity and update of photographs in your passport. If you are holding on to Non-Asean passports (eg. China, Korean...) please apply for your VISA at ICA (which is at Lavender MRT station).
You should undertake soon since all these take time. The onus is on you, not your parents! Take the initiative today!
3 Personal Particulars Form - before you submit, please indicate if you need any special arrangement for any examinations due to a clinical learning disability condition (e.g. colour blind, ADHT, etc). Also, if you need any financial assistance, please let me know by jotting down a note on this particular form. I hope you can see the importance of this return form.
4 CLASS Blog
This blog will facilitate me to administrate all Form Class matters and act as a communication platform. I shall hear from you likewise if you have any concerns in regards to the class.
5 Your URL address - please furnish Emmanuel your URL address once you have created your personal blog. I hope to see you writing down your journey occasionally. I know nothing beats practice! Over time, you bet how far you have improved your reading, writing, and critical thinking skills.
6 Last but not least, please be reminded that your blog attached to this class blogs are meant for a learned and intelligent audience. Therefore, befitting comments and appropriate language use are expected. In case you are not aware, I will be furnishing this URL address to your parents as I would like them to know how far is the year going for us.
I look forward to hearing your feedback on how can we enjoy the journey of 2008 together! As a form teacher, I know there is just so much to learn from each of you too! Can't wait to see our class blog up and moving.
Ms Neo
Here's a list of a administrative matters which need your close attention and cooperation:
1 Money matters : Payment and collection by Wed ( 15th Wed). Total $71 to school and $33 for English Reading Programme which you will get a Newsweek Mag and a Broader Perspective (really an informative publication). Should you have home subscription already, you will only pay $25, instead of $33.
2 Overseas Adventure Camp ( 5-8th March, Week 10)
Please ensure 6-months validity and update of photographs in your passport. If you are holding on to Non-Asean passports (eg. China, Korean...) please apply for your VISA at ICA (which is at Lavender MRT station).
You should undertake soon since all these take time. The onus is on you, not your parents! Take the initiative today!
3 Personal Particulars Form - before you submit, please indicate if you need any special arrangement for any examinations due to a clinical learning disability condition (e.g. colour blind, ADHT, etc). Also, if you need any financial assistance, please let me know by jotting down a note on this particular form. I hope you can see the importance of this return form.
4 CLASS Blog
This blog will facilitate me to administrate all Form Class matters and act as a communication platform. I shall hear from you likewise if you have any concerns in regards to the class.
5 Your URL address - please furnish Emmanuel your URL address once you have created your personal blog. I hope to see you writing down your journey occasionally. I know nothing beats practice! Over time, you bet how far you have improved your reading, writing, and critical thinking skills.
6 Last but not least, please be reminded that your blog attached to this class blogs are meant for a learned and intelligent audience. Therefore, befitting comments and appropriate language use are expected. In case you are not aware, I will be furnishing this URL address to your parents as I would like them to know how far is the year going for us.
I look forward to hearing your feedback on how can we enjoy the journey of 2008 together! As a form teacher, I know there is just so much to learn from each of you too! Can't wait to see our class blog up and moving.
Ms Neo
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Welcome to 2008
Dear boys in 3G
This is a class blog created to bring the class together. A place we call our own. A corner fcr each of you to voice your thoughts and feelings, as well as sharing of your perspectives.
I hope this site will be a solace for each of you to hear your own voice, and to be heard. I believe when you write, you will learn to explore the inner you and stretch your ability to think and pen your journey.
So here we are, at the beginning of 2008, so I call this blog Raring to Go. 3G, let's make this journey an exceptional one.
I look forward to be your facilitator for the year ahead!
Your form teacher,
Ms Neo
This is a class blog created to bring the class together. A place we call our own. A corner fcr each of you to voice your thoughts and feelings, as well as sharing of your perspectives.
I hope this site will be a solace for each of you to hear your own voice, and to be heard. I believe when you write, you will learn to explore the inner you and stretch your ability to think and pen your journey.
So here we are, at the beginning of 2008, so I call this blog Raring to Go. 3G, let's make this journey an exceptional one.
I look forward to be your facilitator for the year ahead!
Your form teacher,
Ms Neo
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)