Post-reflection on The Soldier

National Service is generally compulsory for all males regardless of skin color and religion except for those who have special conditions. Singaporean male citizens will be going through bone-breaking training in a year. However NS has significant importance. This trace back to the past history in the post-independence years. During that period, people were separated into various locations and people have no sense of belonging, they regarded themselves as a race rather than a nation. In order to promote national identity, the government implemented ways like pledge-taking, flag raising ceremony and also National Service. Besides, NS also served to promote social cohesion among races. People from different backgrounds will come together and share the same experiences in NS, they will learn to step in other people’s shoes and understand each other better.

Unlike other big countries like China which has millions of people, Singapore is only a small country that is barely visible on the map, hence people have to be shaped and prepared to defend for their country in times of needs. In NS, teenagers were provided with frequent trainings to build up their physical and mental strength. Proper skills and techniques were taught to prepare teenagers for future needs. In Malaysia, there is NS too but there are slight differences. Not everyone in Malaysia are called to NS, instead they choose people randomly. Besides NS in Malaysia is shorter in period about a few months unlike Singapore which is a year-full training.

Although being a Malaysian, I don’t feel the strong spirit of patriotism in my heart. There are maybe several reasons contributing to it. Partly is perhaps because of the severe racism in Malaysia. Almost everywhere has racist slurs and jokes. People always regarded themselves as a race despite the effort the government put in to encourage racial peace. Even in gaming platforms, there are racist people cursing each other in foul words. The scenes in Malaysia are really sad, very disappointing. Maybe this cause me to lose confident in my country, and make me wondering what for to defend the country when everyone is apart, not united as one? Well, but I do admit that I have love for my country, I respect the national anthem and I certainly will not step on Malaysia flag. No matter how Malaysia recurs as a bad image In my mind, I will still show respect and love to it, because it is my homeland where I was born and nurtured as who I am today. My families and relatives are there, I could not just simply dump them and care less about them. If I was given the opportunity to serve for my country, no doubt I will treasure that opportunity and consider it seriously despite I studied in Singapore as there is one thing that will never change – Malaysia is my forever home.

War description

(Extracted from http://news.bbc.co.uk/today/hi/today/newsid_8492000/8492777.stm)

This photograph have been taken after the Vietnam war. It is a black and white image of a soldier holding a rifle. His uniforms and helmet were worn out and dirtied probably he had gone through the devastating and horrible bloodbath. At the background, there was a house. The black and white colour gives a feeling of depression to the viewer. It seems to show a colourless world filled with emotional feelings. It captured the soldier’s facial expression vividly showing his face taunted with fear. The soldier seems to be traumatized by the war and could not interpret the situation he was at that moment. The way he held his rifle brought about a strong feeling and effect to the viewer like he was tired and scared of the war going on in front of his eyes and hoping the battle would end. From the portrait, we can presume his mood by looking at his hands gripping the rifle. There were no element of strength in his grip, he does not seem to be interested in the fight, he held it in that position manner seems to convey an eager message that he wanted to stop fighting and return home. He pointed his rifle up shows that he had no intention in killing anyone and he was not prepared to go forth again for the terrible battle of Vietnam. The soldier also stared blankly possibly he was exhausted after the intensive battle or emotionally disrupted by the bloodbath he gone through. It seems that the war had harmed his future and it was his doom. The look in his eyes seems to tell a lot of painful story and had hurt him deep into his soul. Overall, this photo shows a physically and mentally disrupted soldier.

Final Draft

I stepped into the car, looking back at my hostel. Beautiful memories flashed in my head, laughter and voices of friends were ringing beside my ear, constantly reminding me how time flew in a blink of an eye. Soon, I was in my car, ready to drive back to hometown, Malaysia. Although I stayed at Singapore for a long period of time, but sceneries of my country never faded in my mind. I could still remember the essence of nature in the tropical forests, the call of the wild, the fresh water of waterfalls splashing against my face, monkeys swinging from tree to tree. Besides, beaches were also my favourite places in Malaysia, especially during my childhood days, my brother and I loved to catch crabs and fishes on the shore. Those experiences were unforgettable and sweet. I gazed out from my window screen, beautiful tall buildings erected from the ground, casting enormous shadow upon me. Everything changed rapidly, from a two-storey building to a beautiful, modernized tall building. Looking at those tremendously tall buildings and fascinating sceneries, I suddenly felt proud to be a Malaysian.

I parked my car in a parking lot and made my way to the Petronas Twin Tower. Carrying my suitcase, I reported at the counter to get to my working place. I was assigned in Singapore to here for a secret mission. After this, I had to go back to Singapore again, which it was my greatest depression for not able to permanently stay in Malaysia. In great sorrow, I dragged my feet to my office. When I reached there, a group of people gathered around, seemed very serious discussing about something. I placed my suitcase on my table and approached them. They were discussing about the matter regarding the secret mission we were appointed to. They were planning the positions, maps, defenses etc. Unfortunately, I was assigned as a body guard from the words of our commander. Shocked in despair, I had no choice but to obey his command. But surprisingly, I was the head of my crews.

Our mission is to protect crystal form ball carved with Malaysia flag worth a billion dollars. It was designed by a famous designer and crafted by the world best skilled craftsman with intricate details on it. It was specially sealed in a thick glass box, which could easily deflect a bullet away. It was going to be exhibited in Malaysia’s biggest exhibition in KLCC. We got the news that during that day, a gang of professionally trained thieves will break in and steal away the crystal ball. After our last preparations, we conducted the mission and the exhibition started.

There were thousands of people gathered in the hall, well dressed, looking at those beautiful jewels and objects that were exhibited. The most crowded section was the crystal ball section. People were squeezing each other just to have a look of the beautifully carved crystal ball, sparkling with blinding light. Everyone was gazing in amazement, jaws dropped, and stood motionlessly. While everyone was surrounding the crystal ball, my crews and I were busying guarding the object and maintaining order around the displayed crystal ball. Of course, we never forgot about our mission, which to prevent the ball to be stolen, we always kept our eyes on the ball to assure it was still placed in its original place. Seconds passed, my heart thumped even faster, every second was important because the theft might happen any moment. Suddenly, there was a smokescreen in the hall, everyone shouted in fear.

My crews and I stick to the order, we leaned against the glass box and command the people in the hall to squad down, hands on their heads. We took out our guns to face any circumstances or ambushes. When the smoke cleared, everything seemed normal. But a woman shouted, said that the crystal ball was fake, and the real one was stolen by a guy walking towards the exit gate. We cursed and chased after the man with the glass box on his hands. We pinned him to the floor and tied him up. I quickly took away the box and had a look. I nearly fainted when I saw the box was contained with a fake crystal ball and that moment I knew that we were tricked and the crystal ball was stolen by the time we chased this guy. I shouted angrily and ordered my crews to get back to original position. When we reached there, the crystal ball was gone. I was rage. In an abrupt moment, my eyes caught a glimpse of a guy running to a lift in a distant. According to my instinct, I was sure that that guy was the real thieve. I cleared the crowd and directed my crews to several directions to prevent the thief from getting away. I ran after the guy in black suit. The moment I ran to the staircase, a gunshot was fired.

Shocked by the sound, I ducked and took out my pistol to defend myself. It was the guy I chased shooting at me. After a few shots, he continued to ran, and I chased after him. There was an aggressive gun fight between us, bullets were flying around ricocheting the walls, the battle was very intense, any slight mistake could cause me a life. To make matters worse, the guy had a grenade. He threw the grenade at me and I dodged but it was not the time to stop and relax, I ran as fast as I could to reach the door where the guy had gone to. The moment I grabbed the handle, the grenade exploded, giving a small earthquake to the building. The building shook greatly but I manage to maintain my balance, and I continued my chasing. Luckily, the guy was still within my vision. He turned around and shot me several times, I managed to dodge every shot but it eventually slowed me down. But one shot successfully hit me in the leg. I fell on the ground, gasping for air. My vision blurred, cold sweats dripped out of my forehead. I was breathing hardly, fighting the pain inflicted to my leg. I looked up and saw the guy turning back with a grin on his face, holding the crystal ball. He laughed evilly and said: “So how was it, tough guy? You want the crystal so desperately? Well, too bad. You think such a weakling like you can defeat our gang?” I was surprised and asked: “You mean…”

“Yes, all your crews had died and my men will come and fetch me. (sigh) What a fail team you all Malaysians had there, you all are just a bunch of little wimps. You all really think that we professional thieves can lose to a bunch of stupid Malaysians? “

Feeling insulted, I grabbed my pistol firmly with anger arousing in me. I looked at the guy laughing insanely and said: “You may think that we Malaysians are weak but we will never give up being faithful to our country even though our strength is limited.” I raised my pistol at him and warned him never insult us again, I pressed the trigger and the guy fell to the ground. I took the crystal ball lying on the floor and covered it with my palm. Soon, I heard footsteps and I knew this was my last station of life. I grabbed the crystal ball carved with a Malaysia flag. I did not regret even that I failed to protect the crystal ball, but I felt happy that I protect my country’s name with pride and honor. I closed my eyes and smiled.

“Hey, Mok, are you Okay? Oh my, you were shot. How did you take back the crystal ball? How did you kill the guy? How were you shot?” tons of questions were threw at me by my partner. I opened my eye and felt glad to see my partners besides me except my crews that were sacrificed in this incident. With a quick thought, I knew that those thieves were caught and I was glad to know that. Looking at the crystal ball and the scenery outside the building, I smiled and acknowledged my true identity as a patriotic Malaysian.

Settings

Cramped living conditions, lived in the dark with brothers and sisters. In the corner of my house, I was carrying my little sister who was crying for food to eat, she had not eat for a day. I used a dirty, moist piece of cloth to wipe her tears. I looked at my only piece of bread and gulped, I slowly handed it to my starving sister reluctantly. After so, I glanced at my family, the walls, beds everything that barely exist in our house and my tears soon flowed out like an opening tap. I made my mind clear and stood up to express my opinions, I decided to go out and test my luck........

What kind of story will it progress?

Sad, humor, adventurous? Comment on this blogpost, answer will be reveal soon......

Credits to: Google Images

Settings of Stories

1) The first story is set at a stairwell. The second story is set in Watson's room shared by some bachelors in the Baker Street. The third story ( also the last ) is set in the neighborhood of a town.

2) The time period of the first story is set in a rainy morning, in the modern days. The second story is set in the 1983 April, in the early morning, quarter past seven. The third story is set in the early 19th century, England.

3) The setting of the first story is going to be gloomy or sad and some emotional feelings going around as the story progresses. The second story's settings suggest its story is going to be filled with mysteries and suspicions. Besides, it also seems like a detective investigation story. The third story's settings gives a very warm loving feelings and comfort to the readers.

4) The settings of To Kill a Mockingbird is set in the Maycomb County, where the Finchs’ live. Maycomb is a town, twenty miles away from the Finch Landing, was the county seat of Maycomb County. The story describes Maycomb as an old, quiet town. Everyone is not in a hurry, and hours in Maycomb seem much longer than a day, which clearly shows that Maycomb’s life is somewhat live in peace and bored. There is also descriptions on the Finch’s neighbours, where it was customary for every hostess to invite her neighbours for a cup of tea or refreshments. Overall the story shows the living of Maycomb people in a boring, peaceful life. And everyone is close to each other.

Discrimination on Jews

1) Discrimination against the Jews is classified as religion discrimination.

2)Concentration camp are were camps that the Jewish, Gypsie were forced to go. The camps were intended to hold prisoners or opponents of the regime They were abused, tortured, force to work, ill treated or the worst, killed. The Nazis even killed them using poisonous gas and used them as an experiment of curing diseases. Eventually most of the prisoners were died of suffers of starvation, heavy loaded works and abusive treatments.

3) The term "genocide" exist after 1944. It is a term referring to the violent crimes committed against groups with the intent to destroy the existence of the group. Human rights as laid out in the 1948 United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights, concerning the rights of individuals. Holocaust however generally known as the systematic prosecution and slaughter of two thirds of the total European Jewish population, around 6 million Jews. It is quite a tragic historical mass destruction of the Jews, where millions of people were killed just because of the hate and racism. It is hard to believe that such inner-feelings could cost millions of death. And this also marked a deep remembrance of the cause of racism.

4)Mein Kampf is a book written by Nazi Politician Adolf Hitler. It is a book sort of an autobiography with some expose to Hitler's political ideology. Volume 1 of Mein Kampf was published in 1925 and Volume 2 in 1926. It is also known as "My struggles" in English.

LA 1st Story Draft

Art. It seems like a simple 3-letters word. But for me it represents my life. For me it's a word that express a lot of wonderment and where imagines and dreams came to live. It's a place where we could inter connect almost everything and bond them together to present on that platform. It is an energy boost and my source of life, where I seek happiness and express my inner feelings and imaginations. It is a stage for me to display my thoughts and ideas to everyone. 21^st of February 1997, is the time when the “egg” of art was hatched and brought to life. The “hatchling” eyes were sparkling with amazement of the world he was at, a journey of the “art life” then began.

At the age of four, I was still staying at home as always playing with my only boring and unattractive toys, just tried to consume my time as much. At that particular stage, I was lonely and I had no partner to share my happiness, wearies and all sorts of feelings. I was just on my own, filling secrets and thoughts in my heart, sealed from the outside world. I had brothers but they were not willing to play with me as they had proceeded to a youth stage or perhaps the “school boy” stage. Darkness was my only companion ,hiding me from the truth of life. I sat at a corner, glancing at the world outside me, wishing a light would shine at my paths, bringing me happiness and wonderment. Finally one day, my hopes had brought me to an end. That day, my parents introduced art into my life and that’s when my life was completely changed.

I was sent to an art class situated not a long distant from my house. My parents did this because they notice my lonely presence so they decided to let me go for a try in the art lesson. At the class, there were different age of students maximum reached to seventeen. I could consider as the youngest in the class. In fact, I was the only youngest in the class with my two brothers. Stepped in the class was as same as stepping into an art gallery displaying art works of different mediums used. I was amazed and started to find my interest in art.

On the first lesson, I was taught of some basics and asked to colour a picture of fruits with crayon. It was actually a test of skills to determine the students ability and strength or weakness in certain areas, as well as gives the teacher a brief idea on how he should guide us and that's how my teacher taught me exactly. Before starting to apply the colours , I first imagine of the fruits’ colours and textures, and so I started and finished the piece of drawing. As I was small, I really did not expect any complimentary from anyone. I was just did it with passion and importantly enjoy the experience of finishing an artwork. After the completion, my teacher take a look and said: “Not bad! Just manage carefully with your toning, they are a little off the track.”. At that age, I obviously did not understand my teacher’s comments. But now, I knew he was giving a starting motivation to me. It was like the sounds and cheers on the track field, motivating the athletes to perform better. I was happy and from that time onwards, I started to concentrate more on lessons to keep honing my skills.

Under my teacher’s teachings of five years which I was then nine years old, my skills had reached the level of a thirteen years old boy. I could colour a beautiful and magnificent picture and sketch perfectly. I could also even sketch a portrait seventy percent alike which considered a very good achievement for me. Despite so, for so many years my teachers did not even use a superlative to describe my works, at most “not bad” or “Ok”. Although saying so that teacher wanted me to keep improving but I felt that the willpower of keep going on improving and improving was fading and the burning passion in my heart was weakening down. I felt that I was lacking something and it was like anything I do was ignored by people and was not significant at all.

Annually, an inter competition was held for all students taught by my teacher, on that day everyone would gather together and present an artwork on live at a specific location. We were given limited time and topics are set according to age. Every year, I would participate and got first prize at the end. Of course my family was proud and celebrate my victory with joy and congratulated me during it. Me too was happy and proud of my achievements. Until one year, which was when I reached ten years old. That year’s competition was my greatest downfall, I got consolation prize. It hit me when the teacher announced my position, my mind went blank like my head was hit by a coconut. The reality of losing in a competition and the pain inflicted to me was unbearable as if my last bit of life was drained away. I cried. I cried in front of the audience, tears dripping out of my eyes. The crowd was in silence, hundreds pair of eyes locking on me, I grabbed my prize and rushed out of the location which was at the McDonalds. I found a dark corner and sat down weeping, I tried to control my emotions but it just burst out, uncontrollable. Tears and tears on the floor drenching my pants too. Five minutes later, my teacher found me, he approached me slowly looking me with sympathy and sat beside me. The first thing he asked, “Why were you upset?”. I cried even more. He examined me awhile and said, “Jun Neng, life is unstable at all times, sometimes it can be very good, sometimes it can be very bad. We must be prepared for all odds in our way. We must learn to accept things the way they are, this is the principle of life. I know that you are upset of your results, but have you think of what is the purpose of you creating an art piece, is it for me and your family? Or is it for you in the way that you loved art. Most of the people who learn art is for the sake of results and names they possess and this is what misleads the journey of an art learner every time. Performing an art piece is not just about results, but is the journey and experiences from it. Learning art can be fun if you just think of drawing things you like, but what about learning art while thinking of getting the first in all areas?”

That day, my teacher woke me up from my unconsciousness, I finally knew what was learning art about, and from that onwards I face art with a smile on my face. I did not matter the prettiness of it but just did it and enjoy it as much as I liked. With my views and aims changed, I also did not forget to continue improving as much. And so after, I of course took part in various competitions and won as well but I always bear in mind that position was not important. I also joined AEP in Hwa Chong secondary school and not forgetting to enjoy the journey of art. The conflict within me and my teacher’s advice changed my life completely and until now, I continue to perform well in art in school.

Art is my life.

Mok Jun Neng 26 2o2