Romeo and Juliet

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Well. We all know what was the daring love between those two young lovers, and how sadly it was ended. Here is the simplified version of the Most Romantic Love Story of all time by William Shakespeare. May God bless to those who believe in LOVE.

Romeo and Juliet.

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A Slander by Chekhov

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A Slander

by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (1860-1904)

SERGE KAPITONICH AHINEEV, the writing master, was marrying his daughter to the teacher of history and geography. The wedding festivities were going off most successfully. In the drawing room there was singing, playing, and dancing. Waiters hired from the club were flitting distractedly about the rooms, dressed in black swallowtails and dirty white ties. There was a continual hubub and din of conversation. Sitting side by side on the sofa, the teacher of mathematics, the French teacher, and the junior assessor of taxes were talking hurriedly and interrupting one another as they described to the guests cases of persons being buried alive, and gave their opinions on spiritualism. None of them believed in spiritualism, but all admitted that there were many things in this world which would always be beyond the mind of man. In the next room the literature master was explaining to the visitors the cases in which a sentry has the right to fire on passers-by. The subjects, as you perceive, were alarming, but very agreeable. Persons whose social position precluded them from entering were looking in at the windows from the yard.

Just at midnight the master of the house went into the kitchen to see whether everything was ready for supper. The kitchen from floor to ceiling was filled with fumes composed of goose, duck, and many other odors. On two tables the accessories, the drinks and light refreshments, were set out in artistic disorder. The cook, Marfa, a red-faced woman whose figure was like a barrel with a belt around it, was bustling about the tables.

"Show me the sturgeon, Marfa," said Ahineev, rubbing his hands and licking his lips. "What a perfume! I could eat up the whole kitchen. Come, show me the sturgeon."

Marfa went up to one of the benches and cautiously lifted a piece of greasy newspaper. Under the paper on an immense dish there reposed a huge sturgeon, masked in jelly and decorated with capers, olives, and carrots. Ahineev gazed at the sturgeon and gasped. His face beamed, he turned his eyes up. He bent down and with his lips emitted the sound of an ungreased wheel. After standing a moment he snapped his fingers with delight and once more smacked his lips."

Ah-ah! the sound of a passionate kiss. . . . Who is it you're kissing out there, little Marfa?" came a voice from the next room, and in the doorway there appeared the cropped head of the assistant usher, Vankin. "Who is it? A-a-h! . . . Delighted to meet you! Sergei Kapitonich! You're a fine grandfather, I must say!"

"I'm not kissing," said Ahineev in confusion. "Who told you so, you fool? I was only . . . I smacked my lips . . . in reference to . . . as an indication of. . . pleasure . . . at the sight of the fish."

"Tell that to the marines!" The intrusive face vanished, wearing a broad grin.

Ahineev flushed.

"Hang it!" he thought, "the beast will go now and talk scandal. He'll disgrace me to all the town, the brute."

Ahineev went timidly into the drawing room and looked stealthily round for Vankin. Vankin was standing by the piano, and, bending down with a jaunty air, was whispering something to the inspector's sister-in-law, who was laughing.

"Talking about me!" thought Ahineev. "About me, blast him! And she believes it . . . believes it! She laughs! Mercy on us! No, I can't let it pass . . . I can't. I must do something to prevent his being believed. . . . I'll speak to them all, and he'll be shown up for a fool and a gossip."

Ahineev scratched his head, and still overcome with embarrassment, went up to the French teacher.


"I've just been in the kitchen to see after the supper," he said to the Frenchman. "I know you are fond of fish, and I've a sturgeon, my dear fellow, beyond everything! A yard and a half long! Ha, ha, ha! And, by the way . . . I was just forgetting. . . . In the kitchen just now, with that sturgeon . . . quite a little story! I went into the kitchen just now and wanted to look at the supper dishes. I looked at the sturgeon and I smacked my lips with relish . . . at the piquancy of it. And at the very moment that fool Vankin came in and said: . . . 'Ha, ha, ha! . . . So you're kissing here!' Kissing Marfa, the cook! What a thing to imagine, silly fool! The woman is a perfect fright, like all the beasts put together, and he talks about kissing! Queer fish!"

"Who's a queer fish?" asked the mathematics teacher, coming up.

"Why he, over there--Vankin! I went into the kitchen . . ."

And he told the story of Vankin. ". . . He amused me, queer fish! I'd rather kiss a dog than Marfa, if you ask me," added Ahineev. He looked round and saw behind him the junior assessor of taxes.

"We were talking of Vankin," he said. "Queer fish, he is! He went into the kitchen, saw me beside Marfa, and began inventing all sorts of silly stories. 'Why are you kissing?' he says. He must have had a drop too much. 'And I'd rather kiss a turkeycock than Marfa,' I said, 'And I've a wife of my own, you fool,' said I. He did amuse me!"

"Who amused you?" asked the priest who taught Scripture in the school, going up to Ahineev.

"Vankin. I was standing in the kitchen, you know, looking at the sturgeon. . . ."


And so on. Within half an hour or so all the guests knew the incident of the sturgeon and Vankin.

"Let him tell away now!" thought Ahineev, rubbing his hands. "Let him! He'll begin telling his story and they'll say to him at once, 'Enough of your improbable nonsense, you fool, we know all about it!"

And Ahineev was so relieved that in his joy he drank four glasses too many. After escorting the young people to their room, he went to bed and slept like an innocent babe, and next day he thought no more of the incident with the sturgeon. But, alas! man proposes, but God disposes. An evil tongue did its evil work, and Ahineev's strategy was of no avail.

Just a week later--to be precise, on Wednesday after the third lesson--when Ahineev was standing in the middle of the teacher's room, holding forth on the vicious propensities of a boy called Visekin, the headmaster went up to him and drew him aside:

"Look here, Sergei Kapitonich," said the headmaster, "you must excuse me. . . . It's not my business; but all the same I must make you realize. . . . It's my duty. You see, there are rumors that you are romancing with that . . . cook. . . . It's nothing to do with me, but . . . flirt with her, kiss her . . . as you please, but don't let it be so public, please. I entreat you! Don't forget that you're a schoolmaster."

Ahineev turned cold and faint. He went home like a man stung by a whole swarm of bees, like a man scalded with boiling water. As he walked home, it seemed to him that the whole town was looking at him as though he were smeared with pitch. At home fresh trouble awaited him.

"Why aren't you gobbling up your food as usual?" his wife asked him at dinner. "What are you so pensive about? Brooding over your amours? Pining for your Marfa? I know all about it, Mohammedan! Kind friends have opened my eyes! O-o-o! . . . you savage !"

And she slapped him in the face. He got up from the table, not feeling the earth under his feet, and without his hat or coat, made his way to Vankin. He found him at home.

"You scoundrel!" he addressed him. "Why have you covered me with mud before all the town? Why did you set this slander going about me?"

"What slander? What are you talking about?"

"Who was it gossiped of my kissing Marfa? Wasn't it you? Tell me that. Wasn't it you, you brigand?"

Vankin blinked and twitched in every fiber of his battered countenance, raised his eyes to the icon and articulated, "God blast me! Strike me blind and lay me out, if I said a single word about you! May I be left without house and home, may I be stricken with worse than cholera!"

Vankin's sincerity did not admit of doubt. It was evidently not he who was the author of the slander.

"But who, then, who?" Ahineev wondered, going over all his acquaintances in his mind and beating himself on the breast. "Who, then?"

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Just a joke!

Remembrance of RP Open House

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Play First.
I didn't even notice someone is taking a picture of mine. LOL.


Work Later.
I've just noticed that my face was so fierce. Oh my god.

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We are da champions of Europe.

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Time can't cure certain things.

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Diary

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Do we need a diary in our life ? Maybe yes. Maybe no. It all depends on individuals. But I love writing diaries. Just reading your last year's diary can make you feel happy and delighted. By writing down all your emotions can somehow relive those suffocating minds. Normally it did emptied my anger, my worries, my sadness and my emotions. When I read back my diary, I feel so surprised that how immature and how emotional I was during that certain time.

And I noticed that there were happy days, there were gloomy days and things are changing up and down. So it wakes me up that there can't be always depressing days in our life and it motivates me in some degrees. Diary is kinda like a pleasant oasis in a desert. Life is a long journey. You will never know what you are gonna be. So note down your own history and make your own history. Do concentrate on three things while writing diary.

* Make it as short as possible ( not too much details cause it is just to remember the forgotten memory)

* Don't write stupid things ( make sure you don't lose your face if someone accidentally reads ur diary)

* Be consistant.

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My Mind is Naked !

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Yeah. You were totally rite. Is it a moment of madness or a virtue? We both don’t know about it. I know deep inside my heart that you are not ready yet. But I know myself that I do love you. “No Feeling At All Right Now and We Are Not More Than Friends!” is the answer I deserved because I wasn’t totally prepared to let you lose. Love is not a property and it can't be possessed. Just last week, I can't accept the fact that you don't have the same feeling like mine. But now I understand that whatever happens, I still can love you. It is my right. By thinking of this way, it makes me feel better than I've ever been before.

We shouldn’t think too much about it. Sometimes, it is a best way to let it go and continues without any changes. But I am damn sure that we will have a change finally whether it is a HAPPY ENDING or a SAD ENDING. Thanks for your true care towards me that I will never forget and I will never doubt. One last thing I would like to tell you is that seeing you without talking to each other is too much but hopefully time will cure.

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Beijing 2008

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Our Dinner Table University by Leo Buscaglia

Our Dinner Table University

And what did you learn today?

By Leo Buscaglia

Condensed from "Papa, My Father"

When Papa was growing up, at the turn of the century in a village in northern Italy, education was for the rich. Papa was the son of a dirtpoor farmer. He used to tell us that he couldn't recall a single day when he wasn't working. The concept of doing nothing was never a part of his life. In fact, he couldn't fathom it. How could one do nothing? He was taken from school in the fifth grade over the protestations of his teacher and the village priest, who saw in him great potential for formal learning.

Papa went to work in a factory.The world became his school. He was interested in everything. He read all the books, magazines and newspapers he could lay his hands on. He loved to listen to the town elders and learn about the world beyond this tiny, insular region that was home to generations of Buscaglias before him. Papa's great respect for learning and his sense of wonder about the outside world were carried across the sea with him to America and later passed on to his family. He was determined that none of his children would be denied an education.Papa believed that the greatest sin was to go to bed at night as ignorant as when we awakened. "There is so much to learn," he'd say. "Though we're born stupid, only the stupid remain that way."

To ensure that none of his children ever fell into the trap of complacency, Papa insisted that we learn at least one new thing each day. And dinner time seemed the perfect forum for sharing what we had learned that day. Naturally, as children, we thought this was crazy. There was no doubt, when we compared such paternal concerns with those of other fathers, Papa was weird.

It would never have occurred to us to deny Papa a request. So when my brother and sisters and I congregated in the bathroom to clean up for dinner, the inevitable question was: "What did you learn today?" If the answer was "nothing," we did not dare sit at the table without first finding a fact in our much used encyclopedia. "The population of Nepal is..."Now, armed with our fact, we were ready for dinner. I can still see the table, piled with mountains of pasta so large that I was often unable to see my sister sitting across from me.

Dinner was a noisy time of clattering dishes and animated conversations, conducted in Piedmontese dialect since Mama didn't speak English. The news we recounted, no matter how insignificant, was never taken lightly. Mama and Papa listened carefully and were ready with some comment, often profound and analytical, always to the point."That was the smart thing to do." "Stupido, how could you be so dumb?" "Cosi sia, you deserved it." "E allora, no one is perfect." "Testa dura(hardhead), didn't we teach you anything?" "Oh, that's nice."

Then came the grand finale, the moment we dreaded most of the time to share the day's new learning. Papa, at the head of the table, would push back his chair, pour a glass of red wine, light up a potent Italian cigar, inhale deeply, exhale and take stock of his family.This always had a slightly unsettling effect on us as we stared back at Papa, waiting for him to say something, He would tell us that if he didn't take time to look, we would soon be grown and he would have missed us. So he'd stare at his children, one after the other.

Finally his attention would settle on one of us. "Felice," he'd say, calling me by my baptismal name, "tell me what you learned today.""I learned that the population of Nepal is..."Silence.It always amazed me and reinforced my belief that Papa was a little crazy that nothing I ever said was too trivial for him. First, he'd think about what was said as if the salvation of the world depended upon it. "The population of Nepal. Hmmm. Well." He would then look down the table at Mama, who would be ritualistically fixing her favorite fruit in a bit of leftover wine. "Mama, did you know that?"Mama's responses always lightened the otherwise reverential atmosphere. "Nepal?" she'd say. "Not only don't I know the population of Nepal, I don't know where in God's world it is!" Of course, this only played into Papa's hands.

"Felice," he'd say. "Get the atlas so we can show Mama where Nepal is." And the whole family went on a search for Nepal.This same experience was repeated until each family member had a turn. No dinner ended without our having been enlightened by at least half a dozen such facts.As children, we thought very little about these educational wonders. We were too impatient to join our less educated friends in a rip-roaring game of kick-the-can.In retrospect, I realize what a dynamic educational technique Papa was offering us. Without being aware of it, our family was growing together, sharing experiences and participating in one another's education. And by looking at us, listening to us, respecting our input, affirming our value, giving us a sense of dignity, Papa was unquestionably our most influential teacher.

Early in my college years I decided upon a career in teaching. During my training, I studied with some of the most renowned educators in the country. When I finally emerged from academia, generously endowed with theory and jargon and technique, I discovered, to my great amusement, that my professors were imparting what Papa had known all along the value of continual learning.He knew there ie no greater wonder than the human capacity to learn, that the tiniest particle of knowledge has the power to better us. "How long we live is limited," he said, "but how much we learn is not. What we learn is what we are." Papa's technique has served me well all my life.

Now before my head hits the pillow each night, I hear Papa's voice: "Felice, what did you learn today?"Sometimes I can't recall even one thing I have learned. Though exhausted after long hours at work, I get myself out of bed and scan the bookshelves to find something new. With that accomplished, Papa and I can rest soundly, assured that a day has not been wasted. After all one never can tell when knowing the population of Nepal might prove useful.

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Just for you !

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This may never start, tearing out my heart apart.

And I'd be your memory.

Lost in your sense of fear,

Feelings insincere.

*****

Will I be just your memory?

*****

I can't see me lovin' nobody but you for all my life.

When you're with me, the skies'll be blue for all my life.

*****

So why does your pride make you run and hide?

Are you that afraid of me?

But I know it’s a lie what you keep inside!

This is not how you want it to be.

Don’t tell me I ran out of time

even if it takes the rest of my life.

*****

So I will wait for you
Cause I don’t know what else I can do.

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Free Thinking & Religion!

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A Free Thinker

Where does 'Free will' come from? 'Free will' is incompatible with the laws of physics - the best we can get, from quantum interactions, is randomness, and conscious behavior is very rarely random."

It states that this is basically down to random luck; and is a controversial concept, anyway. Life may exist in a vast array of cosmological arrangements given the right circumstances. And in no way proves the existence of a creator or cause of beforelife. The whole thing is random; we are here by a billion accidents of evolution and planetary formations, and given the vastness of the universe it's inevitable the conditions will be formed, now and then, for life to begin and survive and end.

As a free thinker, I have no problem in accepting that other people have the right to hold and practice whatever religious beliefs they wish but I do object very strongly to their claims to be the sole upholders of moral codes or behavior. For Buddhist, they will say their ways of living is the best, so too Christians and Muslims.

Most freethinkers are humanists, basing morality on human needs, and we also embraces a respect for our planet, including the other animals, and feminist principles of equality. Freethinkers know that meaning must originate in a mind. Individuals are free to choose, within the limits of humanistic morality. Some freethinkers find meaning in human compassion, social progress, the beauty of humanity (art, music, literature) , personal happiness, pleasure, joy, love, and the advancement of knowledge.

To those of us who reject faith, the idea that there is no God, we become we are incapable of behaving morally and all our way of leaving is just simply wrong. Our thinking has been rejected among society. It is the most offensive myth made by religion."

The best is to be a FREE-THINKER. Free to accept or reject. No particular faith to stuck to and hold on to blindly and assiduously. There is no proof or dis-proof about a 'supernatural' unseen being - whatever it is call! Man created all the various religions and thus created all their moral codes. Silly as some of them are. Free thinkers can also make their own moral code, which is more relevant to today worlds and principles.

View on Religion from the point of a free thinker

"Religion will be a powerful regulator of our actions, give us peace and tranquility within our minds, and render us benevolent, useful and beneficial to others." Religion is like a package - comes with good, bad, ridicularities, customs, superstitions, prejudice, irrelevance, spiritualism, sense and nonsense.

Which of these is the better person, I would ask? The freethinker who practices "Buddhist" values because he has decided of his own free will that kindness and consideration for others are the best way to live his life, or the believer, whose moral actions are carried out with half an eye on reward in Heaven or punishment in Hell? What worries me is the idea that a great many people need the threat of divine sanction or the promise of divine reward in order to behave well.

Let’s say in Buddhism, they are aiming to end the endless suffering of our soul ( called Nivanna ). That’s what they aim for and they want that reward. So they will need to follow the ways that Buddha instructed to get this.

Let say, you are a believer in a religion and therefore you have to be a faithful follower, which may not allow you to thinking freely! I can agree there is freedom to think but to think freely? Buddhism says we are able to choose freely rite? But did our environment, backgrounds, history give us a chance to think freely?

One of the more lousy aspects of religion (all religion not only Buddhism), is their attempts to brain-wash children from a very early age into believing in their religion. Many of the religious people who I know, when asked 'why are you religious?', reply 'It was the way I was brought up.' Many of them have not given this thought careful consideration as their religion was drummed into them at such a young and susceptible age.

Why can't religions let children reach adulthood before attempting to convert or persuade them? Because they know that their faiths are dependent on manipulating successive generations of children; who grow up and eventually contribute towards the faiths collection boxes of the RELIGION.

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The Last Day at Ngapali

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That meal was the last meal in Ngapali. Well, Fantastic.

Camp Fire ( Set it up for us by Hotel )

Snorkeling (One way to attract fish is peeing :P hae hae)

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