Skip to main content

Wednesday Wonders


What is the funniest characteristic of human being? Have we ever wondered? Maybe you have and perhaps we did have wondered. I read once about a conversation of a famous author's friend with a man who asked him this question, the friend answered, " Our contradictoriness." 

Perhaps yes. I never hurried to grow up but eventually time did. 

"Many of us are in such a hurry to grow up and then long for their lost childhood. We make ourselves ill earning money and then spend them on getting well again. We think much about the future and we neglect the present. experience neither the present nor the future. We live as if we were never going to die, and die as if we had never lived."

So did the men destroy the nature under the banner of industrialization, development, commercialization and technology and now, the so called 'world leaders' sitting on round table drawing out plan of actions to converse the nature . We destroy and then we find ways to heal, protect and reserve. Funny are men.

We do contradict but we learn. We learn to live in the present. We learn to let go. We learn to move on.  If we do not learn, then we are indeed funny.

To end this note, let's wonder about today, Wednesday,  the 5th of January, 2022 and be thankful for this life.  Every little thing, has a little story. Let's appreciate and be grateful and make wonders for mankind.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

When Sons Play Golf: A Mum’s Walk Through Fairways, Thoughts, and Quiet Joy

  The duck was there first. Standing at the edge of the pond, calm and completely unbothered, it faced the water as if nothing else in the world existed. The surface reflected the sky so clearly it blurred the boundary between above and below. It was quiet—one of those still moments that feels almost sacred. Yesterday, during my sons’ practice round at Belton Woods, I found myself pausing there longer than I expected. Not because of the game, but because of everything around it. A little further along, I noticed a tiny beetle resting on a blooming leaf. So small, so still, and yet perfectly placed within the vastness of the course. I took a photo, quietly, while the rhythm of golf carried on in the background—the soft strike of a ball, the murmur of voices, footsteps on grass. I’m not a golfer. Not really. I don’t carry a handicap. I don’t own a polished set of clubs, and I still hesitate when someone asks me the difference between a draw and a fade. And yet, over the years, standi...

A poem for my Malaysia

This poem is written in Malay Language, my homeland's national language. It is written in the spirit of the celebration of Malaysia's 62nd Independence Day. It is not meant to condemn or based on any specific ethnicity, or person. It is purely from the heart and mind of mine for the love of my birth country, a moment simply for my homeland. Sejenak untukmu Aku bukan bukan Melayu kerana aku cukup Melayu, cukup Cina, cukup India, dan cukup lain-lain kaum. Aku anak Malaysia. Aku bukan bukan Melayu kerana aku atuh pada rukun. Rukun aku rukun negara. Usah disindir kepercayaanku kerana aku bukan calang-calang orang. Aku anak Malaysia. Aku bukan bukan Melayu. Aku tahu Melayu, aku hormati Melayu, dan aku cintai Melayu kerana aku anak Malaysia. Aku bukan anak India. Bahasa ibuku Tamil,  kampungku pekan Melayu, sekolah rendahku sekolah Cina. Kerjaku merantau dunia. Kini sudah dekad lamanya aku dikota Lon...

The Busy Burrow

Illustrated by Teynmoli Subramaniam using Canva AI To,  2Y, 2024–2025 with love. For the class who made every day an adventure— and taught me as much as I taught you. Go and grow, my wonders.  (First draft written in July, 2025) Deep in the heart of Fernwood Forest, under the rustling leaves and tall oak trees, a busy badger was putting the finishing touches on her colorful display board. Tiny starry lights twinkled softly, like little sparks in her dark, shiny eyes. She let out a happy sigh that curled through the warm underground air. After an hour of mounting the pictures and trimming the edges, she leaned back against the warm wall, stroking her fur—a mix of deep inky grey and soft silver white, like the sky at dusk. It swished softly under her paw as she moved like the hush of leaves on a still autumn night -warm and worn with wisdom. A rectangular pair of glasses perched on her nose—occasionally slipping to the tip - as she surveyed her glowing classroom burrow, a cosy...