The most fascinating thing about these people is that the work is never ending. Yet they somehow find the strength and tenacity to just keep going and going. Something on the inside is very much on fire and that feeds the soul which strengthens the body and makes them keep going.
I'm already in a month and a half going into my internship. It's been an amazing experience so far. There were times when I feel utterly disappointed with myself and there are times when I feel utterly incompetent too. I don't like to lean on the excuse-side self. And I definitely don't think it's because I'm new.
Somehow, there is this clumsy, rash and no-sense (yes, no-sense not nonsense) ingrained in me which I don't like at all. I am trying to eradicate them to be a better person, overall.
The team has been great to me and it's hard to say that I will find this kind of people elsewhere. I would have been slaughtered on a few other occasions, had I been in another company or shooting with another team.
In about a week or two from now, I will be drafted into a movie shooting. It's gonna be different. It's gonna be tough and tiring. I've been warned.
Which is why the questions they ask is so important today.
Will I be able to say that "I love working in this field" for years to come?
You see, sometimes I feel useless too in a sense that I know something about all things but I don't know all things about something. It's a very worrying thing. In simple terms, it's jack of all trades and master of none.
I know something about photography.
I know something about cameras.
I know something about editing.
I know something about audio.
I know something about writing.
I know something about producing.
I know something about production managing.
I know something about everything. But I know nothing about something.
It's not a dilemma. It's something I feel that I've not worked well enough on.
So after almost three years into understanding this field, where do I truly stand?
I find myself asking this question again. As I only know something about these things, I don't truly excel in them and that saddens me.
But nevertheless, the same thing that drives them to keep going is the same thing that I must possess.
It's all about the passion.
And hard work.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Come Wednesday...
Come Wednesday, the old guard of UTAR PJ CF will make way for the new. As such, felt compelled to thank each and every one of you for your superb hard work.
For Tammie, thank you for being ever so-willing to step up when I am unable to lead. Thank you for being the ever reliable lieutenant who isn't afraid to stand up for Him and push on when going gets tough.
For Moky, thank you for being the enthusiastic, crazy person that you are. Loved every moment with you in it. I admire your love for God and commitment to the cause which plays a big role in why we chose you as the new leader (WOH!)
For Roxanne, thank you for steadying the ship when there need be, together with your couz. One I can always count on to get things done. So blessed to have know you.
For Cheryl, though you have hard time coming to CF, I know your heart has always been with us all. Despite all that, you don't mind helping in any way you can which touches a lot of people. Thank you, sunshine girl for the sunshine you gave us all.
For Clinton, it's been amazing seeing you grow in Christ and stature. On the appearance, people may think you are childish but on the inside, you are more mature than most people think. Lest you think different, you actually pulled together a lot of people to keep coming to CF. Keep burning!
For Benjamin, thank you for willing to give time and also for willing to send people here and there despite all the troublesome-ness. It's been a joy serving with you.
For Susanna, thank you for sticking with CF for so many years and seasons. We have both seen it all, I guess but despite that, you remain a passionate member and an invaluable one to us.
For Choulyew, thank you for stepping up when CF needed someone. Even before, you have been the one willing to do much for Him. Glad that you came to know Him and keep that fire burning!
For Beatrice and Caroline, there's no end to my thanks when it comes to you two because you have helped us in so many ways, so many times and guiding us through all difficulties and moulding us to be better persons. Thank you for giving us the time and effort. We cannot thank you enough.
For Sian Lerk, after all these years being an advisor, I think the weight has always been on your shoulders. Thank you for carrying us through the hardest of times. We love you!
For Tammie, thank you for being ever so-willing to step up when I am unable to lead. Thank you for being the ever reliable lieutenant who isn't afraid to stand up for Him and push on when going gets tough.
For Moky, thank you for being the enthusiastic, crazy person that you are. Loved every moment with you in it. I admire your love for God and commitment to the cause which plays a big role in why we chose you as the new leader (WOH!)
For Roxanne, thank you for steadying the ship when there need be, together with your couz. One I can always count on to get things done. So blessed to have know you.
For Cheryl, though you have hard time coming to CF, I know your heart has always been with us all. Despite all that, you don't mind helping in any way you can which touches a lot of people. Thank you, sunshine girl for the sunshine you gave us all.
For Clinton, it's been amazing seeing you grow in Christ and stature. On the appearance, people may think you are childish but on the inside, you are more mature than most people think. Lest you think different, you actually pulled together a lot of people to keep coming to CF. Keep burning!
For Benjamin, thank you for willing to give time and also for willing to send people here and there despite all the troublesome-ness. It's been a joy serving with you.
For Susanna, thank you for sticking with CF for so many years and seasons. We have both seen it all, I guess but despite that, you remain a passionate member and an invaluable one to us.
For Choulyew, thank you for stepping up when CF needed someone. Even before, you have been the one willing to do much for Him. Glad that you came to know Him and keep that fire burning!
For Willy Lim and El Na Na, again, you rise up to the challenge when CF needed new leaders.
We thank you for the commitment and cause. Let that passion run deep!
For Beatrice and Caroline, there's no end to my thanks when it comes to you two because you have helped us in so many ways, so many times and guiding us through all difficulties and moulding us to be better persons. Thank you for giving us the time and effort. We cannot thank you enough.
For Sian Lerk, after all these years being an advisor, I think the weight has always been on your shoulders. Thank you for carrying us through the hardest of times. We love you!
For the new, all the best! Prayers, best wishes for you. May His wisdom be your guidance, His grace be your strength, His mercies be your joy and His love be your promise. Strive on. The journey is long. :) All things are possible with Christ!
Monday, July 9, 2012
Never quite the same
709 is a very significant date now. Loathe by some of the elites of this nation but for some of us, 709 was and still is something that we hold dear.
Can I argue that since that fateful day, things have changed a little and never quite the same anymore?
Have Malaysians finally woke up from their 50 and more years slumber?
Have we finally, realize that it is indeed we; not the leaders nor anyone else but ourselves that we can count on to make a change?
Can I argue that since that fateful day, things have changed a little and never quite the same anymore?
Have Malaysians finally woke up from their 50 and more years slumber?
Have we finally, realize that it is indeed we; not the leaders nor anyone else but ourselves that we can count on to make a change?
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Ikan
They ran and ran, almost defying gravity in their every step, laughing so heartily, knowing no worries, no weight on their shoulders.
Across the shoreline, and up the wooden jetty. Panting at a pace without rhythm, they sat down at the edge of the pier; facing the sea, legs dangling precariously over it. But it was a sight to behold, a moment too important to worry about safety for now.
The sight, however, was the least of their concern.
"Diaorang tu balik ari ni ke?" Fikri asked.
"Entah lah," Mat shrugged and answered to the bemusement of Fikri.
"Abis, kenape kito kat sini?" he questioned Mat irritatingly. If they aren't coming back today, he had something else better to do. Those rambutan trees looked to have bore enough fruit for them to devour and savour but Mat insisted they had to make haste to the jetty.
"Ko tak yah tanya banyak sangat! Duk diam diam dan tunggu aje! Terajang karang baru tau" an annoyed Mat snapped back to which Fikri obliged in fear that his elder brother would indeed bashed him up like the last debacle they had. Thinking back, he should have just let his brother bathed first. It was too cold in the morning anyway. Why did he ever bothered for that toilet, he couldn't remember.
Fikri, unconsciously, slapped his palm on his forehead. Mat turned sharply, wondering what his little brother is thinking. Realizing that it got Mat's attention, Fikri quickly pretends to scratch his forehead, trying to mask his embarrassment.
"Awat?" asked a curious Mat.
"Tak de. Saja," came the answer.
"Bangang. Orang tak tampar, ko pula tampar diri," Mat teased to the admittance of Fikri. He is too prone to doing these actions unconsciously. Maybe there is a way to rid this. Or not.
Mat reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicately packed lunch. It was really this morning's leftovers but it didn't mattered much anyway. Fikri did the same, reaching deep into his pocket and scouring but no packed lunch was to be found. He stood up and continued his little digging of the pocket. Mat looked up.
"Aih, ko ni. Poket dah berlubang tapi seluar ni juga ko nak pakai, eh?" Mat said bluntly to which Fikri found out to be true. He pulled out the pocket's sac to find one huge hole on it. No wonder his pants felt lighter than it should have been.
Fikri sat down again, resting his head on the palm, elbow on his thigh. No rambutan, no lunch, a long wait and an annoying brother by his side. What could be worse?
Mat took two quick bites of the glutinous rice and handed it to Fikri. He stared at Mat as this was rare.
"Tak nak? Kalo tak ambik, aku abiskan!" Mat threatened. Fikri quickly snatched the rice and gobbled it down.
"Tak yah la nak gopoh macam tu. Makan pelahan sikit," Mat said as he patted Fikri's head.
Their wait is accompanied by the wind who gently beats the sea and helping it to the shoreline. The sounds of waves and Fikri's chewing filled the air. It is going to be a long but routine wait. For the last week or so, Mat had consistently insisted to wait for their return from noon till dark. It didn't make much sense to Fikri as there are so many things to do inland. If they returned, they would have to go inland anyway. They could play while waiting instead of just sitting and staring at the sea.
"Dulu sini banyak ikan," Mat pointed to the sea and drew a spot to show Fikri.
"Itu dulu. Skrang?" Fikri asked.
"Abah kata ikan semua lari. Skrang kena pergi jauh untuk memancing."
"Mana ikan tu semua lari eh?"
"Entah. Tapi Mat rasa, ikan bukan lari. Dah abis ditangkap."
Fikri scratches his head.
"Boleh abis ditangkap ke? Tak bertelur ke? Cikgu habak ikan bertelur beratus-ratus biji."
"Tapi beratus-ratus biji tu, banyak ke yang membesar?"
"Manalah Fik tau..."
"Tu lah, orang suruh baca buku, ko pi main lah, nak rambutan lah, nak ni lah, nak tu lah."
"Eleh, abis along tiap tiap ari kat sini tak baca pun!" Fikri protested to which Mat raised his fist.
"Pandai pula ko melawan eh! Nak kena penumbuk ni?" Mat threatened once again. Fikri sat quietly again. He had no idea what kind of a brother Mat is. No, that packed lunch isn't enough to redeem his constant threats and bossiness.
They sat still for a while.
"Kito tunggu sini, takut masa abah balik ngan diaorang tu, kito kena tolong angkat ikan tu," Mat finally explaining their routine wait.
"Tapi kito pun tak tau diorang tu balik bila... Eh ikan bukan dah abis ditangkap ke?" Fikri asked unwittingly.
"Ish, gunalah otak tu sikit. Sebab tulah kena pi jauh jauh tangkap ikan. Sini dah abis. Jauh tu, ade lagi rasanya." Mat answered.
"Mana along tau?"
Mat thought hard.
"Ma.. Mat tau lah!" he snapped and raised his fist. Fikri raised his arms to protect himself and turned his head to the side.
Then he saw a small silhouette appearing from the edge of the sea.
"Along! Abah!" he pointed to it excitingly.
Mat lowered his fist and looked. A smile, then a jump. The two brothers waved tirelessly at the boat.
"Abah! Abah!"
(inspired by the fishing villages in Kelantan and Kedah, together with the recent revelation that we might have no more fishes to catch in 35 years because of over fishing.)
Across the shoreline, and up the wooden jetty. Panting at a pace without rhythm, they sat down at the edge of the pier; facing the sea, legs dangling precariously over it. But it was a sight to behold, a moment too important to worry about safety for now.
The sight, however, was the least of their concern.
"Diaorang tu balik ari ni ke?" Fikri asked.
"Entah lah," Mat shrugged and answered to the bemusement of Fikri.
"Abis, kenape kito kat sini?" he questioned Mat irritatingly. If they aren't coming back today, he had something else better to do. Those rambutan trees looked to have bore enough fruit for them to devour and savour but Mat insisted they had to make haste to the jetty.
"Ko tak yah tanya banyak sangat! Duk diam diam dan tunggu aje! Terajang karang baru tau" an annoyed Mat snapped back to which Fikri obliged in fear that his elder brother would indeed bashed him up like the last debacle they had. Thinking back, he should have just let his brother bathed first. It was too cold in the morning anyway. Why did he ever bothered for that toilet, he couldn't remember.
Fikri, unconsciously, slapped his palm on his forehead. Mat turned sharply, wondering what his little brother is thinking. Realizing that it got Mat's attention, Fikri quickly pretends to scratch his forehead, trying to mask his embarrassment.
"Awat?" asked a curious Mat.
"Tak de. Saja," came the answer.
"Bangang. Orang tak tampar, ko pula tampar diri," Mat teased to the admittance of Fikri. He is too prone to doing these actions unconsciously. Maybe there is a way to rid this. Or not.
Mat reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicately packed lunch. It was really this morning's leftovers but it didn't mattered much anyway. Fikri did the same, reaching deep into his pocket and scouring but no packed lunch was to be found. He stood up and continued his little digging of the pocket. Mat looked up.
"Aih, ko ni. Poket dah berlubang tapi seluar ni juga ko nak pakai, eh?" Mat said bluntly to which Fikri found out to be true. He pulled out the pocket's sac to find one huge hole on it. No wonder his pants felt lighter than it should have been.
Fikri sat down again, resting his head on the palm, elbow on his thigh. No rambutan, no lunch, a long wait and an annoying brother by his side. What could be worse?
Mat took two quick bites of the glutinous rice and handed it to Fikri. He stared at Mat as this was rare.
"Tak nak? Kalo tak ambik, aku abiskan!" Mat threatened. Fikri quickly snatched the rice and gobbled it down.
"Tak yah la nak gopoh macam tu. Makan pelahan sikit," Mat said as he patted Fikri's head.
Their wait is accompanied by the wind who gently beats the sea and helping it to the shoreline. The sounds of waves and Fikri's chewing filled the air. It is going to be a long but routine wait. For the last week or so, Mat had consistently insisted to wait for their return from noon till dark. It didn't make much sense to Fikri as there are so many things to do inland. If they returned, they would have to go inland anyway. They could play while waiting instead of just sitting and staring at the sea.
"Dulu sini banyak ikan," Mat pointed to the sea and drew a spot to show Fikri.
"Itu dulu. Skrang?" Fikri asked.
"Abah kata ikan semua lari. Skrang kena pergi jauh untuk memancing."
"Mana ikan tu semua lari eh?"
"Entah. Tapi Mat rasa, ikan bukan lari. Dah abis ditangkap."
Fikri scratches his head.
"Boleh abis ditangkap ke? Tak bertelur ke? Cikgu habak ikan bertelur beratus-ratus biji."
"Tapi beratus-ratus biji tu, banyak ke yang membesar?"
"Manalah Fik tau..."
"Tu lah, orang suruh baca buku, ko pi main lah, nak rambutan lah, nak ni lah, nak tu lah."
"Eleh, abis along tiap tiap ari kat sini tak baca pun!" Fikri protested to which Mat raised his fist.
"Pandai pula ko melawan eh! Nak kena penumbuk ni?" Mat threatened once again. Fikri sat quietly again. He had no idea what kind of a brother Mat is. No, that packed lunch isn't enough to redeem his constant threats and bossiness.
They sat still for a while.
"Kito tunggu sini, takut masa abah balik ngan diaorang tu, kito kena tolong angkat ikan tu," Mat finally explaining their routine wait.
"Tapi kito pun tak tau diorang tu balik bila... Eh ikan bukan dah abis ditangkap ke?" Fikri asked unwittingly.
"Ish, gunalah otak tu sikit. Sebab tulah kena pi jauh jauh tangkap ikan. Sini dah abis. Jauh tu, ade lagi rasanya." Mat answered.
"Mana along tau?"
Mat thought hard.
"Ma.. Mat tau lah!" he snapped and raised his fist. Fikri raised his arms to protect himself and turned his head to the side.
Then he saw a small silhouette appearing from the edge of the sea.
"Along! Abah!" he pointed to it excitingly.
Mat lowered his fist and looked. A smile, then a jump. The two brothers waved tirelessly at the boat.
"Abah! Abah!"
(inspired by the fishing villages in Kelantan and Kedah, together with the recent revelation that we might have no more fishes to catch in 35 years because of over fishing.)
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Point of no return
There comes a time in life when everything seems bleak. And rather stagnant.
There comes a time in life when you realized life has come to the point of no return.
In the pursuit of means to live better, men have so often chase dreams in a way that the old must make way for the new. A substitute for another; another now deemed valueless, now is to be replaced with something even better.
He took up the violin and gently he ran his fingers on the strings. He felt the ribs of the aged but an instrument that miraculously survived decay.
But men have also so often forgotten or rather choose to forget, that new does not necessarily mean better. Nor does it make the old valueless.
As if to throw a tantrum for being used so extensively, his beloved refused to sing in tune. This has happened before. He plucked the strings, listening to her sing. Twisting her pegs, he helped and pampered her into singing in tune again.
Life is like a circle, a cycle really; sometimes harsh and cruel. There was a time when men cannot foresee nor fathom the transmission of voices and music with radio signals nor when they could see stories being told and shown by a box. These were his hey days.
As he makes his way to centre stage, being one of the last of his kind, he prepares his final show, his point of no return. Time and age has soften him well, making his body fatigue, now only possessing the strength of one last show.
He lifted his bow, placing it gently on the string.
A deep breath and the first pull of the bow; the first note.
The beginning of his point of no return.
(inspired by the Penglipur Lara Awang Batil of Perlis
What is penglipur lara?
Answer: http://sasterasmso.tripod.com/id1.html )
There comes a time in life when you realized life has come to the point of no return.
In the pursuit of means to live better, men have so often chase dreams in a way that the old must make way for the new. A substitute for another; another now deemed valueless, now is to be replaced with something even better.
He took up the violin and gently he ran his fingers on the strings. He felt the ribs of the aged but an instrument that miraculously survived decay.
But men have also so often forgotten or rather choose to forget, that new does not necessarily mean better. Nor does it make the old valueless.
As if to throw a tantrum for being used so extensively, his beloved refused to sing in tune. This has happened before. He plucked the strings, listening to her sing. Twisting her pegs, he helped and pampered her into singing in tune again.
Life is like a circle, a cycle really; sometimes harsh and cruel. There was a time when men cannot foresee nor fathom the transmission of voices and music with radio signals nor when they could see stories being told and shown by a box. These were his hey days.
As he makes his way to centre stage, being one of the last of his kind, he prepares his final show, his point of no return. Time and age has soften him well, making his body fatigue, now only possessing the strength of one last show.
He lifted his bow, placing it gently on the string.
A deep breath and the first pull of the bow; the first note.
The beginning of his point of no return.
(inspired by the Penglipur Lara Awang Batil of Perlis
What is penglipur lara?
Answer: http://sasterasmso.tripod.com/id1.html )
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