Photographs are like the still memories - captured and frozen in time. Memories that tells a story from the past without words. And this is the picture, which brought back many happy and pleasant memories as I attempt to describe it. It is a picture of my drum troupe members and I with two Maori “warriors”. The guys had their tongues sticking out whilst some of the girls attempt to show the whites of their eyes. We were told that these facial contortions were a part of their traditions when taking pictures. It sounds so cool! The picture was taken by a fellow drum member, whose name I do not really remember (sorry! >.<”). It was taken outside of The Star’s meeting rooms, which was “transformed” into dressing rooms for performers. They had just finished their performance, hence the costumes that they were wearing at that time. That day was the anniversary of The Star Publications. The event was held at the Star Media Hub in Bukit Jelutong, Shah Alam. Flashbacks of fond memories flowed through my mind – from the time I met Datuk David Arumugam of Alleycats to my first performance. I still remember how Datuk Arumugam had joked about us “stealing” his pizzas! Too bad we missed a chance to take a picture with him. We had to get ready as our drum troupe were the first to rock the opening ceremony of the anniversary celebration! Datuk Arumugam performed too; singing a few of the Alleycats hit songs. Besides that, haka and waiata were performed as part of the Maori repertoire. They were really amazing! That day was one of the happiest moments in my life.
Edgar sat at his writing table. He could hear the clock on the wall ticking every second, reminding him of the poem that still lay unfinished. Piles of crumpled papers lay scattered on the floor; some tumbled out from the wastepaper basket that is already overflowing. Stranded halfway after the lines “Their still waters- still and chilly, with the snows of the lolling lily”, Edgar poked blankly at the mimosa plant, sinking deeper and deeper into his train of thoughts.
After hours of daydreaming, Edgar moved from his seat to the refrigerator downstairs, walking past pictures and portraits of his family that brings back memories of his childhood. He grabbed a few eggs and bread, thinking he’d make himself some toast. After satisfying his stomach, Edgar decided he’d go for a walk instead. He refuses to think anymore.
Grabbing his coat, he strolled across the lawn and head towards a lake nearby, which lately became his favorite spot to relax whenever he gets a writer’s block. He lay on the soft, green grass and looks up at the sky. Puffs of clouds like cotton candy sailed by ever so slowly and birds flying gracefully in the clear blue sky.
It was these peaceful moments that drove Edgar into a long dream, taking him to places that seem so familiar yet unknown. When he woke up, he scrambled back to his room and began scribbling on his paper. He didn’t want to lose his inspirations while it still lingers in his head. And thus, he managed to finish writing his poem and named it ‘Dreamland’.
Although a little fuzzy, I still remember the first few books I’ve read when I was young. It had pictures on every page as the story unfolds itself. My mom had showered me with lots of picture books to encourage me to read. Some of it even had audio tapes! Every day, I would read and listen to the tapes (one of it had an orange cat named Oliver or something like that), which brings me into the story and join the characters in their little adventures. I still remember most of it were Ladybird books such as Rumpelstiltskin, Three Billy Goats Gruff, Sleeping Beauty, and many more. Among my favourite books were Tales of Peter Rabbit as well as the other books written by the same author, Beatrix Potter. These books had drawn me into reading and let’s just say I was pretty much addicted to reading after that. My mom had accomplished her goal.
As I grew up, I read books written by Enid Blyton and Roald Dahl, each of their stories different and interesting, which brings me into the magical world that they’ve created. Stories such as The Tower of Ho-Ho Woods and other stories had taught me not to be mean or we would suffer the consequences. It never failed to draw me into a fantasy world of my own where fairies and wizards exists, princes and princesses, that makes me want to have a happy ending of my own some day. Roald Dahl’s stories too had the same effect except his stories some how seems so real that sometimes I find myself believing in it too. Stories like The Enormous Crocodile, The BFG, and The Magic Finger were among those that I’ve enjoyed reading. I love reading his poems too! Besides that, I also read Peter Potts the Plumber and Horace the Friendly Ghost too. All these books had helped widen my imagination and makes reading so much more fun.
R.L. Stine and Stephen King, too, came into picture during my primary and secondary school life. My best friend, Kylie, had influenced me into reading R.L. Stine’s books then just as she had done the same with Harry Potter when it first published. Although I may be in my teens, but reading horror stories then really scared me since I grew up reading fairytales and happy-ending stories. But as usual, me being me, I still continued reading those stories despite the fact that it gave me nightmares at times. As the saying goes, “curiosity killed the cat.”
A few years back, my cousin made me read Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie and that had change my perspective in life. Reading different books had shown me another view of the world and about the life of others. After that, I got my hands on Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea, which I found in a pile of books that my aunt had given me. I was amazed by the old man’s strength and sympathized with his character. It had also shown me the way of a fisherman’s life. Then recently, I read Dan Brown’s Angels & Demons, which was really interesting, and it also made me realize that life is cruel and evil people do exists. Well, I’ve read a lot of books when I was young so I can’t really remember the titles clearly but I can still remember how the stories go. To me, reading books is like being in the playground of my mind. I can be any character I wish and just let my imagination run free. It gives me a chance to explore and create a whole new adventure of my own and that’s why it is important to me.
I always have writer's block, All my thoughts buried under a rock. Ideas and inspirations may come easy, But only some are smart and others cheesy.
Now I know why writers cry, When they can't think of how or why, Their stories or poems come to a halt, Together we feel the big creative drop.
I go to school and roam the halls, Slip into class, and dream of spaghetti and meatballs. I know my lecturer will always be there, Inspiring me with thoughts to share.
The clock is ticking, the dateline's near, The paper's still blank, there's more to fear. I tried to write a story but to no avail, I think I might start to wail.
Alas! Here I am, Eating bread with cheese and ham. My story is still stagnant, That's why this poem is the replacement.
