The World of Tai Tai

When I am in the midst of the pedantic and prudish ones, I long to escape to a remote corner where I can breathe and stretch my limbs. The longer you stay with them, the more you will find yourself being mentally consumed by them. They look at you with a penetrating, devouring gaze and what they say can jar on your nerves and make you bleed. Those yielding to their authority become their lapdogs, wagging tails at them in a servile manner. I'm striving very hard to keep my sanity afloat. I have my self-pride. There's no way you can bind or tether me. I've built impregnable walls around myself and have them turreted. At times you may pepper them with bullet holes but it won't crush my spirit. I will mend the wounds before any further destruction is done.

                                    I could smell dampness in the air, and I instinctively quickened my pace. Dark clouds were scudding across the sky, blocking the scorching rays of the afternoon sun and dimming the surroundings degree by degree. The susurrating breeze in the trees had turned into a roaring gale, stripping leaves off branches, catching them up in a spiral motion and whisking them around me and the other hurrying pedestrians. A storm was imminent and I hoped I could reach the safety of the nearest bus stop in ten minutes. I had no time to spare. Very soon the sky would open up and a deluge would pour over the town. The wind screamed in my ears and the cacophony of blaring traffic added more confusion to the paroxysm of panic within me.

               Papa fried some fish for dinner today, and he took the trouble to send them to me. The fish in the picture is the embodiment of a perfectly fried one. The skin was crispy and the flesh was flaky. It was a divine marriage of sweetness and saltiness, whetting my appetite and leaving me sated.

Traffic drone floated up from the road. A steady rain peppered the roof of the marquee under which I was having my breakfast. The noodles tasted bland and the tea was unpleasantly sappy. I looked across the table and saw Papa enjoying his noodles, making slurping sounds. There was a content look on his face and I couldn't help asking myself what made him still enthusiastic about life despite his old age and his Parkinson's disease?

                                            When I was in Secondary Two my English teacher asked me to make a sentence using the word 'accident'. I was delighted and made a sentence:"I met her by accident." The teacher said my sentence was wrong and asked me to replace 'by' with 'at'. Refusing to change the preposition, I told her that my sentence meant a coincidental meeting between two persons but it infuriated her. At the end, I was pandied for being disobedient. Thirty years later, I am an English teacher but despite the fact that I am not really proficient in the language, I can still see many fellow teachers making silly errors. The most recent being a teacher giving a student a merit mark for writing: Onslaught of the Library Club, I would like to give a speech on t...

                             Anger and shame pounded over me in waves that kept me gasping, and when the waves washed back, I found myself looking out over a brackish wreck which was illumined in a light so lucid, so heartsick and empty, that I could hardly remember that the world had ever been anything but peppered with garish wounds.

                                               When I was strict with my students everyone said that I was wrong. When I was lenient with them the same accusing fingers pointed at me again, indicating that I was spineless and unprofessional. But I am sure of one thing, if I am too firm with my students, I will be too uptight and lose my equilibrium. In the past many students fingered me to the school authorities for being too harsh on them. Don't get me wrong. I am not saying that being strict is not good. Of all the classroom management skills, it is consistently ranked numero uno in importance. I'm currently trying to strike a balance between being strict and being lenient. If other teachers can do that, why can't I?

                                                                                         When I was marking exam papers at City Fan Park, a young man came up to me and introduced himself as Mr. Cheerfulness. He told me that he was a part time masseur and asked me if I wanted to have him service me. I said no and he told me that he would massage me for free. "Many men like me to massage them, " he said. "They are happy to take their pants off for me." His last remark scared the bejeebers out of me. My hair all stood on end. While talking to me his ri...

                               In a cautious manner, I always trawl through the vocabulary in my mind before forming a concrete viewpoint, but everything becomes dismembered the moment I let go of them through my dratted mouth.

                             I was mocked for saying "May I see Shawn?" by a group of smart-alecky students. They told me that the correct way of saying was " May I meet Shawn", which in their delusional minds, did not know was wrong. Every now and then I have to put up with such nonsense. How annoying.

                           Lulled by the stupor of procrastination, I am well on my way to reaching a craggy, lofty ridge, where my life lies precariously in the cusp of success and failure. To lean more favourably towards success, what I need is a steely determination that gives me unwavering firmness. However, I keep vacillating between my current state of indecisive languor and a longing to embrace self-ennobling challenges. No one can give me a wake up call unless I myself. But am I assertive enough to do so?