Defects or Deception

Disclaimer: I will be continuing my Singapore chronicality next week. Today I am doing something a little different.

Today I am posting an essay that I started today during my homeroom class. It is an argumentative essay and I have tweaked it to my best. Please, share your opinion and stir up an argument of your own.

Kanmani Harivenkatesh

 

April 28,  2017

 

English 6B

 

Defects or Deception

 

Imagine that you are sitting in your classroom. Your teacher is giving an important lesson that will help with future tests and projects. From the distance you see that one of your fellow classmates is just sitting there, head laying on the desk, the hands that are supposed to be taking notes are just laying there, lifelessly. You see his eyes, usually there full of life and jubilance. Now there abnormally droopy, and dreary. His face far-off and secluded from his surroundings. You whisper, “Hey, you okay?” He replies with “I was up all night doing homework assignments.” He looked as if he hadn’t had enough sleep. You noted in your head that students needed to have at least eight to nine hours of sleep. It seemed that your fellow classmate and friend has been spending the time where he needed to sleep, doing homework. You explain to him that he needed to get more sleep and that he shouldn’t procrastinate as much. You then ask him, “When was this all assigned?” As you stare at the binder in his backpack that seems to undulate with papers and packets. A notebook is faced upward, you see notes, words seem to be jumbled, squeezing into the margins. The lettering looks rushed. “These were all assigned yesterday.” You look at the sheets of paper again. “These are all for science, math, English, and history.” You then reply with “You mean to tell me that you were assigned this much homework in one whole school day, and you are expected to finish it all by the next day?” Your friend sighs and then nods.

When I was in elementary school, I would eagerly wait for my friends that were a grade above me beside their classrooms when it was recess time. But I noticed that every time they came, they always seemed to have bags under their eyes, or their movements didn’t seem to match up with their natural age. I always asked them why they were so tired and weary. They always replied by grumbling, “Homework.” They told me that each night they spent their time doing homework instead of getting the eight to nine hours of sleep they needed. Over the years, I started merging into the person that seemed to spend the night either doing homework, or drooling all over the textbook that is supposed to help me with my homework. But instead I lay there, my head using the book as a pillow. Now I know what you’re thinking. “Why not they just do their homework super early?”

Well, the thing with middle school homework is simple. In the start of the year, you are assigned eight classes. Each day you have four of those classes to go to. The next day you have the other 4/8 of the assigned classes. In each class you are probably given an assignment or project that is based of the curriculum, the project would probably take a week or two to finish, This all includes rough drafts, revisions, final drafts, evidence to support claims, reasoning in your text, citing the sources you used, (maybe using a specific website to cite those sources). As well as designing it to look refined and unique. Each day you are told to do a specific part of the assignment, your peers and predecessors are usually the ones who help you. But alas, even with the multiple resources students are given for an otherwise wonderful education doesn’t seem to satisfy the people who actually need to be actually satisfied. They are teenagers, tweens, and, well, kids. They are the middle school students themselves.

A weight on their shoulders that will last for the longest of times. The boulders that seem to make their eyelids sag. Though homework is quite beneficial, most students seem to be more informed through interactive lessons, group activities, or any physical work done in a classroom environment. Doing independent work at home with a pencil and paper in hand seems to be very distracting, considering the fact that home is also considered the place where students, of all ages, seem to let loose and don’t seem to have a care in the world. But the reminder that they still have to do a 5 paragraph assignment for reading class, a graph for science, a set of ratios to figure out for math class, and a geography essay based off of ancient lands for history is like a little river leech nagging on your skin after you spend half of your free time swimming freely in the waters of your home. You end up by cramming all of your homework into the time in which you have to sleep. Instead of having the eight to nine hours of sleep your body assigns you, you end up with six to seven, or sometimes even five to six hours of sleep. This is the usual cause of students barely keeping their eyes open in class. Leading them to miss important information based off of future tests and large projects.

To most students, homework is like a dirty word on their tongues. When a teacher announces a new homework assignment, all the teacher receives is at least one or two thirds of a class groaning. To any parent or to any person in general it can be a shock to learn that a student’s undesirable attitude towards homework can affect a student’s grade. Though this is a small defect, it can still affect a student’s optimism towards any social activity in class that is housing the current lesson.

Though parents( according to Time) are “worried their kids are losing a potential academic advantage.” They really are wrong.. But the loads of homework that are given to student can be very stressful. Sure a few projects or two for a lesson are good, but homework that is given four or five times  a day can stress a student. Stress is very dangerous for a grown woman or man’s health. Just imagine what it could do to a teenager, or even a child. This can affect physical and mental health in dangerous ways. And medical procedures can have many defects. About one hundred years ago, doctors “were testifying if book bags with books inside are bending a child’s spine.” Now we are debating whether or not we should let children have physical and mental health defects. I personally think that students should live a healthy, educated life.

Adventure is like a butterfly. Dare to reach out your hand and let it land on your fingertips.

Now before I continue on I should probably explain one thing. On my last post one of the main words in my title was the word “starfire.” Don’t try to look it up because the word that I embedded into my speech is not an actual phrase used by people. It’s merely a word that I wholeheartedly made up. I realized that there wasn’t a word in the written dictionary that represented domesticated creatures as savage or uncontrollable. In my dream there was the shadow man. I could tell that in his eyes he used to be a kind soul. His eyes looked out of place with his chilling grin. He turned from sweet to savage. So the word starfire was born. I know you’re probably wondering why I named it specifically in that form of speech. Well I think of stars. Before they pass they are just a glowing ball of heat and light, they give people joy and revival. But when they die, it happens so suddenly. The spot where they once radiated is now empty. Just like the hole that is penetrated into a kind souls heart. Turning them into a whole different person. I like to think that after a star dies it turns into a different form thus forming a starfire. It lives on by spreading a fire through a persons heart. But if the person who is gifted with that entrancement and use it unwisely they will change completely. I know all of this sounds silly, but it’s what I want to believe.

  • Part 8 Day 4

I woke up to the sound of Madhavan’s voice.

“Kanmani, Kanmani, Kanmani, Kanmani, Kanmani, hey Kanmani, wake up, wake up, wake up, wa-” I stopped him by whispering.

“MADHAVAN YOU ARE GETTING ON MY LAST NERVE AND YOU SHOULD KNOW BY NOW THAT WAKING UP A RAVENCLAW THIS WAY IS HORRIBLE AND WILL GET YOU IN A LOT OF TROUBLE.” (Ravenclaw is a Hogwarts House from Harry Potter that house students into that membership, they represent wit, knowledge, intelligence, wisdom, individuality, acceptance, and originality.)

“I need to tell you something Kanmani!” He said. holding in a laugh.

“Well what is so important that you need to wake me up when it’s 3 am?” I said in annoyance.

“Hi.” He said.

“Hi?!” I exclaimed.

“HI?!” I cried.

“SO WHAT YOU’RE TELLING ME IS THAT YOU WOKE ME UP JUST TO SAY A CONTRADICTION ?!” I half yelled, and half whispered.

Well mom and dad are awake and they were going to wake you anywa-” I punched him lightly on the shoulder causing him to land on the cold wooden floorboards. Just as I was about to close my eye’s again, my torso felt as if something really heavy was bouncing up and down on it. Madhavan was not only trying to wake me up but he was also mindlessly destroying my rib cage and cutting of my circulation. “AND I’M UP!” I cried, my hands were thrown up in the air showing my annoyance towards my Hufflepuff of a brother. (Hufflepuff is another Hogwarts House that houses students representing dedication, patience, loyalty, and fairness.)

So much for a few extra hours of sleep. I thought. The night before I was just laying on the bed thinking about my dreams and trying to figure it out. I didn’t want to tell my mother or father either. In fact I told my mom when I was writing the dream for the blog. Here’s how our conversation went:

“So yeah, more than two years ago I fought a maniac circus trainer that was abusing a baby elephant. I even have a scar to prove it. I also fell into a hole that’s the equivalent of a trillion hellhounds and I also didn’t come ba-” My mother was looking at me with a face that said what did I raise?

“We should take you to a doctor.” She finally said.

“I’M NOT MENTAL!” I cried. My arms flailing.

“No I meant the blood you were talking about.” She said.

“NO WAY!” I said.

Then I started lecturing her to the point where I disgusted her with my very descriptive allocation about how the heart pumps the blood and that cut up tomatoes look like the internal organs(that is my way of annoying my mother.)

I started to explain that I probably got the little wounds from cutting myself. Though I didn’t believe my own words as much as my mother did. My mother finds it hard to believe that I have such vivid dreams and actually remember them for more than two or three years. So that night I was just staring at the hotel ceiling and thinking about everything. Sleep did come but not in the way I thought. My mind was just like “I guess I could withstand a night without sleeping.” But then 2 minutes later: “Zzzzzzzzzzz.” Anyway, I walked to the bathroom rubbing my sleepy eyes. “Good morning Kanmani.” “Mhm.” I moaned. “Sleep well?” My dad asked with a ridiculously annoying but funny smirk plastered on his scruffy face. “Oh how ironic that our little conversation became so close to my current fundamentals in night composure.” I sticked my tongue out when he wasn’t looking as my mother giggled. I was in the middle of brushing my teeth when suddenly I heard a bloody scream that made all the blood in my body go south. I did a little sound that was a cross between a scream and a squeal.

I turned around to see my brother with a funny grin on his face. I started screaming “I TOLD YOU TO NEVER DO THAT BUT NOOOOO YOU JUST HAD TO SCARE THE BRAIN TISSUE OUT OF ME.” But with my toothbrush still in my mouth it sounded like “HI HOLD HUE HU HEVER HO HAT HUT HOOOOOO HUE HUST HAD HU HARE HUH HAIN HISSHU HOWT HUF HE.” He laughed and ran away to my dad. I rolled my eyes, Sometimes I think I have a Slytherin for a brother. (Slytherin is a House in Hogwarts that represents being cunning, having resourcefulness, and being ambitious. This house is also where evil is known to roam and rise.) I know it sounds mean but thats what I sometimes tend think. I took a shower and wore a really comfortable teal dress that had black designs in the fabric. Underneath the dress I wore a soft light blue shirt. Sure it was a dress but at least it was flexible and absorbent. I brushed out my hair and cleared out the fog that dominated my glasses.

We were going to Sentosa Island to just tour around. We all met up with Deepak, Ganesan mama, and Sumathi Athai, at the hotel lobby room. I saw through the big glass double doors that the sun was blazing down the streets like a lamp beaming down on a desk. I felt like my blood was boiling and my brain would soon start seeping through my body like a lava lamp. We walked out into the baking heat as my brother asked me a legion of questions.

“Kanmani, what color is the sun?”

“Madhavan in outer space it looks orange, but since we can’t look directly at it from here it appears to have no color it’s radiation cause’s it to look like a neon yellow.”

“Uh, okay. Why is the sky blue?” He asked

“Because of the ultraviolet rays the sun gives off, there are multiple atoms that make up different parts of light, one of the main ones are the color blue, thus making the sky having the tint it has.”

Madhavan had a blank look on his face. So I improvised.

“There is an invisible painter in the sky who paints the sky the colors it comes to be everyday. The painter loves the people on the planet so much that he decided to add multiple colors to the sky in the afternoons everyday so people could marvel over his masterpieces.” I said, satisfied with myself.

“OOH.” He exclaimed as he glanced happily at the sky. I smiled and took is hand and we walked along…

  • Later

We just walked into an Indian restaurant with a sign that read: Komala Vilas on it. Inside, it was packed with people. We had to snake around people that were packed around tables, until we finally were able to have found two empty tables. I sat next to my mother, my dad and brother in front of us. We ordered and our food came a little while afterwards. I looked around the, the walls were a pale greenish bluish color, ceiling fans mounted above. The food was pretty good actually and we all left with full stomachs.

  • A long while later…

Bala Thatha dropped us of at the railway station. My dad and Ganesan Mama went out and bought Subway sandwiches we could eat on the island while Deepak, Madhavan, my mom, Jagan Mama, Sumathi Athai, and I went to a nearby MacDonalds and had pancakes. I’m not really into sweet breakfast foods so I handed my plate to Jagan Mama. We were sitting in the train, and I loved the ride. Since we were going to stop at the Sky Train building we decided to go on railway. The ride was much faster and fun. We sat on these bright plastic, purple seats. I tried my best not to slide down every time we moved. I mean the plastic was so smooth that I had to strain myself from accelerating to the floor. The movement of the train was quite fast and more enjoyable than the slow one that I had went on once before in San Fransisco. We stopped at our station. My legs fell asleep so I felt like I was impaired from my feet for a little while. Anyway we left the station and started walking to the Sky Train building. The building was very refined and simple but the architecture and the design was very admirable. We were finally escorted to the area where the colorful box-like cars were lined up in a row like an assembly line. The woman who had taken us here to us all the directions of how to get in and out safely. I was extremely excited. If you couldn’t tell already, I love looking at places from such a high perspective. I stepped inside, I claimed the part of the seat that was beside the door( Wow, letting a 10 year old girl sit right smack dab next to a door in a cable car that is hanging from a metal wire that is connected to a whole different island that is more than 21.7 miles away. Yeah. Sooooo smart). As soon as we all got in the door closed and we started slowly going through the assembly line of other cable cars until I finally felt the compression from the ground release into what seemed like nothing. I looked down below and saw the sea. It’s brilliant mix of green and blue hues shone brightly in the sun.

I looked at my dad, and Jagan Mama. They were taking a bunch of hilarious pictures, my mom and I watched the view. I absolutely loved being able to see everything from such a high area. To everyone else, I seemed to look calm. But really my mind was just like: WOOOOOHOOOOO!!!!! WOW LOOK AT THE SEA. OH MY GOD IS THAT THE ISLAND?! IT LOOKS SO COOL FROM HERE! WOW EVERYTHING IS SO SMALL! I LOVE IT! IT’S SO COOOOL!!!! YEEEEEEYAAAAAAAAAAYYYY!!!!!!!! We moved steadily but we were able to see a lot. At one point as we were coming close to the other building to stop, we were above a vast forest of various kinds of tree’s. I wanted the ride to last longer but unfortunately we had stopped at the area where we were supposed to get off. I stepped down carefully and landed softly on the cement. I trailed behind my father, Jagan Mama, and Ganesan Mama. We looked around for a while and came to a stop in an aquarium.

In the brochure it showed pictures advertising their show with these pink dolphins, I flipped through as we walked through to where they were holding the show. We sat on the long row of benches( or do you call them bleachers? I don’t know.) As I sat down on the metal sectional, the heat from the metal reached my skin. I felt like a cookie baking inside the rack of an industrial oven. The show soon started and all our heads turned, our eyes trained on the creatures in the water before us. As the dolphins moved I noticed that on the sides it looked as if the pink was rubbing away, it reminded me of paint chipping away from a well worn wall. I looked at each one of their eyes, they looked tired and almost… Depressed. I couldn’t bear myself to look into there dismal eyes. I continued watching as they turned and flipped, splashed and swished, jumped and leaped. The show was good, but I wasn’t able to withdraw the image of those dolphin’s eyes from my head. Anyway, we walked along into the main building where they had the tanks and aquariums. I looked at the flurry of fish that swam before us in one of the cylindrical tanks that seemed to be the epicenter of the entire building that held the aquariums. We continued examining each tank and looked at each of the inscriptions talking about the fish. I even saw one plaque that had actual shark sacs with baby sharks actually moving inside. It creeped me out a bit because there was literally no liquid substances that were inside that would keep them alive. THEY NEED WATER TO SURVIVE PEOPLE. DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND THE DANGER YOU PUT THEM IN?! HOW DO YOU EVEN STAND WATCHING THOSE POOR CREATURES STRUGGLING TO SURVIVE IN A SLAB OF GLASS AND WOOD?! I wanted to scream.

We continued walking, marveling at the fish that roamed through the colorful corals like snakes in a jungle. I was able to buy a few key chains for my friend, and my brother snagged a toy bubble gun in the shape of a( very unlucky) fish for himself. We sat down for a bit in this little sitting area and talked. As we left, I saw a few signs advertising that visitors could now get massaged by tiny fish in a tub( I know that I make it sound less appealing but it is literally what they were saying on the signs. I found it quite odd that people would want to get massaged by teeny tiny creatures that are probably regretting there life’s choices. Couldn’t you just massage yourself from the comforts of your home?( All of the things in this post regarding my opinionated contradictions are like I said, just my opinions, I am not trying to tell others that my opinion is what they should believe and my opinion only. In fact it would make me more than happy to know that your are comfortable with branching out you’re opinions to others, such as myself.) Anyway we left and ate the sandwiches we had brought.My brother begged my dad to get him this little LEGO watch. That was probably the most annoying part of the day.

Once we were done we went to a nearby exhibition showcasing bugs and a butterfly park. We walked inside and I instantly cringed, goosebumps creeped up my arms. Everywhere I looked, there were poor insects and butterflies in these big glass cases. They seemed to be taped or strung down. As we walked along the graveyard of insects and spiders( spiders are not insects, they are bugs by the way.) We walked into a brightly lit room. I gasped under my breath. There was a colossal amount of butterflies in glass cases. There sizes increasing with each one I looked at. One looked as if it could cover my entire head without struggle. One was so small that it was tinier than my pinkie finger’s fingernail. We then walked into what seemed to be the butterfly park. Butterflies fluttered by as we watched. There were a few benches nearby, my mom, dad, Ganesan Mama, and Sumathi Athai sat down. We just stayed there for a while and then we left.

We then stopped by the beach. My brother played in the sand, my mom, Sumathi Athai, my dad, Jagan Mama, and Ganesan Mama talking. Deepak, and I sat there, I played with my brother, I helped him dig deep into the mounds of sand so he could reach his little hands into the damp, packed sand. At one point we all waded in the water. The cool water lapped against our feet. Excess water trickling through the crevices of our toes. I absolutely love the feeling of cool, crisp, fresh water on my feet. I despise pool water. We stayed there for a while, taking pictures and wading in the water. My brother and I built this big arena( my idea) and in the middle I made an intricate cornucopia. We soon had to leave back to the hotel through the train. But sand was still in my hair, the scent of the sea still on me like perfume.

We are built as equals made from earth and the sea. I didn’t realize that we are also built by starfires.

  • Part 7 Day 3

I was inside a large circus tent. On the side’s were large rips, the fabric drooping down on either side. Sunlight cascaded into the gashes, bringing light into the musty darkness. I was lying in the middle of the solid dirt floor. I didn’t know how I got there but I knew it was for a reason. Suddenly I heard a large sound like a trumpet in the distance. I got up and ran as fast as I could without looking back. “Hello?” I cried. I gulped as I saw a trainer beating a baby elephant with an elongated black whip. I stepped closer my voice capturing the shadow like figure’s attention. “HEY, you have NO right to do what you are doing.” I screamed my voice getting bolder and even more edgy with every word. The trainer didn’t say anything as he turned around, I saw his face was as pale as a white rose, his eyes looked like the pit to an endless hole. He turned back around and continued beating the baby elephant like it was nothing. I saw something glinting just a few feet behind me. I slinked to the area it radiated and grabbed what seemed to be a handle. It was a large bronze dagger. I realized that since I was in a circus tent, these were equipment from shows. They were abandoned and coated with dust.  I cringed each time I heard the cries of the unknowing elephant. Then an idea struck me like a sword through my head. Just as the man had his whip in the air, I brought the sword down, the bronze hitting the leather. About 3/4 of the leather was chopped off, only leaving a floppy stub. The man turned, his useless trinket turned into what seemed to be a lethal weapon. The fabric turned into what seemed to be a full length sword. “Bring it.” He said in a raspy tone. We dueled until my dagger unfortunately gave in to the twisting and stabbing the man’s sword brought. I was cornered the elephant was able to get away. I sliced at his leg, his motion was like lightning. “How do you find satisfaction in seeing a soul tortured?” A malevolent grin creeped up his face, “Well I don’t have time to answer that because I am busy enjoying you fall to your death.” He retorted harshly as he pushed me, I thought I would land on hard flooring. Instead I landed in a hole . I was falling, into a large pit. It had jagged stalagmites running down the walls of the seemingly endless walls. I was falling into a pit that was the lethal equivalent of more than trillions of hellhounds. I was falling into a place that inhaled fire and exhaled ashes.

“NO!” I screeched. My body was bolt upright in bed. Beads of sweat traveled down my temples, and down my neck. My hair looked like jet black waves mixed with curls flowed down my sticky, sweaty back. My breath hitched as I looked around. It was just a dream. I told myself. It was so peculiar though. I sword fought with an unknown but abusive animal trailer in a circus tent, while trying to protect an elephant that was being abused. And then I failed. I plunged into a pit of darkness with a baby elephant that thanked me though I unsuccessfully tried to save it. And then I noticed something as I brushed my teeth. A scar, a fresh one actually. It was right on my wrist. I remember when I sword fought with the shadow man( lets just call him that) I seemed to be shredding him down. He became weaker and anemic. He seemed desperate and out of ideas, so he then swung his sword like a desperate heinous maniac. It sliced through my skin like a knife cutting through soft butter. The small wound was bleeding, warm red liquid trickled down my arm and drops of my blood every time I brought my hand up to slash up my dagger. I noticed in the mirror that there was a faint red stain behind the shell of my ear. I touched it gently with my callused thumb. I stifled a scream, the signal of pain reached the patch of skin that caressed my bloody wound. I looked at my thumb, now covered in my blood. I took a hand mirror and examined the wound. It was a long gash that went from the top of my ear and ends behind my earlobe. It wasn’t very deep but even the slightest sense of touch, such as a single hair falling behind it feels like being stabbed by a thousand swords.

I tried my best to wipe out all of the blood that undulated out of the scar until it only left a mere cicatrix. One part of my mind was telling me I bet this happened when you we battled the shadow man! But then my logical side dominated my whole head. I was trying to push away the thoughts that preponderated my head. But it was to peculiar to push away though. My dream affected my ways of life to. For example when I got ready that morning for our next destination I was moving the way I did when I was dodging the shadow man’s sword . And when I first met( my best friend) Emily at the start of the school year the first thing she ever told me was “You move like you’re in a battle.” I still move like that, my feet sliding against the floor, I twirl to a stop. I still remember the combat moves I did. It comes in handy at P.E. a lot actually. But what really changed me two years ago was that dream, everything that happened. It reminds me of a manga I like to read now called Blue Exorcist. The manga contains a story line that is action and thriller. My dream was like that story, almost… Supernatural.

I looked at myself in the mirror one more time before we left to Anand Bhavan. My eyes are actually an extremely dark brown. So dark that you can’t even see my pupils. My best friend Jayden always says that in the dark, my eyes look like orbs of glowing black fire with the specks and blotches of black in my eyes. In the light, he  says my eyes look like a storm with the mix of different brown colors surrounding my pupil. A lot of my friends( specifically Jayden) thinks that when I look at them it’s extremely intimidating for them to look at my eyes directly, especially with my long eyelashes and midnight black strands of loose bangs that twist like black brambles, framing my face. But that day they looked wild and vicious. I combed out my ink colored hair. The waves merging into little princess curls. We were going to Jurong Bird Park to, well, see birds. I was wearing these really baggy pants that had these really cool patterns on them, and I was wearing this loose top. I was really happy that I wasn’t encased inside a floral massacre.

We walked down the sidewalk and picked up some food. And as usual the same woman was there serving us. She was so nice and loving. I loved her. As usual the sun’s rays radiated down upon us. But I was grateful that the stratosphere protects us from it’s lethal rays. IF YOU WERE A PERSON I WOULD JUDO-FLIP YOU RIGHT ABOUT NOW. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAD HAPPENED TO ME. SEE THIS IS WHY AUTUMN IS MY FAVORITE SEASON. I scowled at the sun for being it’s intolerable self. In the car I watched the hustle of the people around us, walking, one there phones, wiping the sweat that dripped down there faces like rain. What really surprised me for the past few days was that Bala Thatha stuck with us everywhere, dropping us off and picking us up from our destinations. Just the night before we went to Rajendran thatha and Vany aachi’s house. Last night we had to drive to there apartment. Each one was aligned with others and there were multiple stories. This was the first time I had met them. But I really liked them though. They were nice, thoughtful, and sweet. They served us traditional south Indian food that was very good. They even bought us ice cream.

We all walked out of the car Deepak and Madhavan were by my side  as we walked into the entrance of the bird park. It reminded me so much of the botanic garden we went to, with the twisting willow tree’s and orchids. I found one orchid that looked like there was actual blood splattered on it. That one was probably my favorite. We walked along, passing by tree’s that twisted and passed by ponds with swans and ducklings and mother ducks. We went to a spot where birds flew everywhere, some nonchalantly land on our arms and fingers if we stick them out. There were cerulean warblers, song sparrows, robins, rainbow lorikeets, gold and blue macaws, quetzals, and so many more. I loved the way the song sparrow fluttered gracefully, zipping through the tree’s. We walked to another area where there were large groups of birds in these huge cages. They squealed and made so many sounds. Some fought with one another, some stayed secluded in a corner. We walked quickly away, though I wanted to stay and study the birds. Deepak must of had the same idea because he walked beside me slowly, watching the magnificent white birds. We all snaked through the entire park watching and commenting about the birds at one point we all stopped in front of this man made waterfall. We took pictures in front of it. Jagan mama and my mom took a photo together but they couldn’t keep a straight face, smiling to much or to little. Finally they took a good picture. Soon enough, we left.

Thatha then took us to a place where there were these amazing 3 dimensional pieces of artwork that represented the Chinese Dynasties, the legends, and they each told a story. They were all different and the details shocked me. Each one told a clear story. Especially the one about Confusicous. We inspected each area thoroughly, taking some pictures. We came across a large wheel. It was of the Chinese zodiac calendar. Each section had an animal and a list of years on them. I was born in 2005 so I was represented as a rooster. My brother was a crow, and thatha was a dragon(Lucky!) I found out that my mom and I had the same animals. We soon drove back to our hotel and Jagan Mama and Thatha both went home. Throughout the day I snuck in some thoughts about my dream. That night I struggled to sleep with those thoughts in my head. In fact, as i write this I still wonder of the shadow man who lurks through my thoughts.

The entrance to Jurong Bird Park.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Don’t judge a species by it’s form.

We evaluate and define ourselves with techniques and statistics with using our minds and mainly using intellect and patience. In things such as musical arts, advanced technology, and even artificial intelligence. Of course to achieve such high standards in these key pinpoints of engineering, mathematics, scientific studies, and study of the arts is to study. Everything doesn’t just piece together in your head. Especially when it comes to design and dexterity. But of course there are other’s who seem to be able to calculate measurements in their heads. Their adroitness help them in daily life, especially with survival and living. Did I mention that they aren’t human? Sure their a species of vertebrae, just like humans they have the  33 individual bones. But you have no idea how much their intelligence level is.  Did I mention that their a species of fish? A puffer fish to be exact. I want you to pull of a picture of a puffer fish. Does it look like something that could create a phenomena? Does it look like something that could make a masterstroke? It may, it may not. But who ever told you to judge a species by it’s form? If anyone ever believes  that act of disrespect and tyranny, I suggest they do a little more research before they jump to that conclusion.

Though there are more than 120 puffer fish species around the world, puffer fish are mostly spotted in subtropical, and tropical areas, but some live in salt water and fresh water as well. But in 1995 divers found beautiful but strange circular patterns in the bottom on the sea floor in Japan. Later more of these mandala like patterns were discovered and excavated. For a while people defined them as “mysterious underwater crop circles.” But soon people figured out that they were created by puffer fish. These enigmatic designs are 7 feet wide and are made by a fish that are only 5 inches. But what really shocks me is that they were for at least a week or more. And they have to continue working or the current will sweep their work away. But what really shocks me about these fish are how much intelligence they have. They have mathematical calculations in their heads. They have measurements just etched into their minds. They work endlessly for days, to make every single thing perfect. No imperfections. AT ALL. And they do all of this for love. They create these masterpieces to catch the attention of another passerby fish that they could mate with. Well that’s what scientists presume. But  definitely think it’s the truth. I like to think of the fish as the Steve Jobs fish because Steve himself was such a perfectionist. I like to think that just because something isn’t the same kind as you, doesn’t mean that they can’t the same or even a higher level of intelligence.

 Here is the video that first got me acquainted to the Japanese Puffer Fish

I’d rather sew a future of safety and freedom into an animals DNA then reap tyranny and treason from a creature’s soul.

  • Part 6 Day 2

“Good morning Kanmani, sleep well?” My dad asked. “Nnhhhh.” I moaned. My face was crushed against the pillow and a thin river of drool trailed from my cheeks to the pillow and down my arm. My hair looked like it had been in a hurricane with all the wind Mother Nature could muster. . I looked at the window and saw that it was a deep shade of cerulean blue. The stars were long gone, but I was able to make out the buildings and cars down below.  checked the time in the clock mounted on the wall. 3:00 am. So it is was most likely 12:00 pm in California. I thought as I emerged from the bed, my feet softly landing on the cold wooden floor. My mom took out the outfit she wanted me to wear for the day. Apparently she didn’t trust me enough to let me get out my own clothes. “You mess up all the clothes that I fold in there.” She says( and still says today). “Well excuse me if I am a dedicated scavenger mother.” Is what I say when she gets irritated when I leave a massacre in the luggage. “Okay Kanmani go take a shower and brush your teeth, and put this on when you are done okay?”

She thrust a knee-length dress in my arms. It was white with white buttons and it had these light yellow lemons and leaves on the dress, looking as if the citric fruits were painted on with watercolor paints and a brush. Along with the dress, my mom pushed a white t-shirt to put underneath the dress. MOTHER YOU EXPECT ME TO WEAR THIS WHEN IT IS MORE THAN 90 DEGREES OUTSIDE? But I said that in my head so she wouldn’t argue with me for the rest of the day and keep saying witty things like “Oh you look so cute in the dress, see it isn’t bad!” or “Why don’t you like this dress? You can’t wear jeans and t-shirts all the time you know.” I clutched the clothing in my hands sighing as I opened the door to the bathroom.

I came out of the bathroom, fresh and ready for the day. But I was surprised to see Jagan Mama standing there with my mom(Jagan Mama is my mother’s younger brother, so he is my uncle). “Hey Kanmani.” He said, attempting to break the silence between us. “Hello Jagan Mama.” I said, my voice sounded so quiet and reticent. Usually my voice is edgy and bold.  But my voice quickly changed back into my normal tone as I answered his question acquainting how I was. I then excused myself from the conversation and grabbed the hairbrush that seemed to be falling out of the duffel bag. Other everyday necessities seemed to be undulating out of the bag. My mom asked me just moments before to brush my hair, because it looked like a bird’s next at the moment. So there I was trying to tend to my unruly and untamable hair. When I was finally able to get my hair somewhat tamed, I stepped out of the dense atmosphere that was the bathroom and asked my dad if I could email my friends on the IPad. He let me use it, so I switched it on and went to my account and typed away.

Once I was done I gave the tablet back to my dad and stood up and took out my IPod and these huge chunky black headphones from my backpack. I scrolled through my playlists, finally picking one to play while everyone got ready. I just sat there on the bed tuning out my surroundings. A few moments later my brother started having a fit, saying he wanted a lollipop. So Jagan Mama took him and they went out to go by a lollipop. My dad and my mom were about finished by the time they got back. I stowed away my things and got up. It was 8:00 or so. We were all out the door. That morning I was quite agitated towards the sun. I UNDERSTAND YOUR CAUSE AND I DO RESPECT YOU. WITHOUT YOU I WOULDN’T EVEN BE HERE YELLING AT YOU IN MY HEAD. BUT SERIOUSLY YOUR AS ANNOYING AS HARRY POTTER’S COUSIN. AND THATS SAYING A LOT BECAUSE HARRY’S COUSIN WAS CONSIDERED ONE OF THE TOP MOST ANNOYING CHARACTERS IN THE ENTIRE SERIES. I SHOULD REALLY SHUT UP SHOULDN’T I? I THINK IT WOULD DO BOTH OF US SOME GOOD. And once again, the sun shined rays of disappointment and annoyance at my face.

We walked into Anand Bhavan and ordered. The same woman that was there yesterday was there that day as well. We all greeted her and she seemed very happy. After we ate, we brought a to-go bag with us and went into the car. Jagan Mama came with us as well. I watched as the world passed by. Busy tourists walking and talking, either holding shopping bags or holding cell phones and snapping pictures. Workers bustling to work, construction workers high up on top of what seemed to be the skeleton of the structure that towered above us. The city definitely looked different in the light of day. We passed by buildings that were like mirrors. Anything in front of it would be replicated in the crystal clear glass. I marveled at the way the sun reflected on the glass and the metal of each building or structure. We then saw from the distance a sign that read Singapore Zoo.

We arrived at the entrance walking towards the doors that had us stamped. I know what your thinking. “Did you guys seriously have to bring like paperwork or something?” First of all no. What I mean by stamped is that WE LITERALLY GOT AN ILLUSTRATION OF A LION ON THE BACK OF OUR HAND. I honestly don’t understand the concept very well, I understand it’s purpose but what if the stamp fades away? What if you wash your hands and it washes out before you leave the zoo. We walked into the other side. There were plants placed in specific areas with large figures of painted animals prowling among the shrubs. The first place we went to was this big rain forest area consisting of pandas. In one of the plaques they showed a little story about how the pandas became black and white. (I don’t remember bits of the story but I do know enough to confidently tell it to all of you.) Long ago panda’s were completely white instead of black and white. One day a little panda cub was roaming along in the rain forest when a panther pounced and almost attacked it. But a woman blocked the panther from the panda. Therefore leading herself to cease. With the grief of their friend’s sacrifice, the panda’s started turning black and white. The black representing their grief. Though this was only a story, my mom and I still got really sad, as if grief was taking over us as well. That was probably the thing that stood out to me the entire time we were their.

Probably one of the most hilarious moments was when there was this little kid ride thing where there were these little mini cars, decorated to look like little animals. We thought it would be fun to let Madhavan go. But you had to have an adult go along with you. We convinced Jagan Mama to go with Madhavan. He looked so out of place with those little kids. He was extremely tall as well. My mom took a video the entire time. There was so much blush on Jagan Mama’s face that he looked like a strawberry. But Madhavan was happy and that was what mattered.

We continued to other places like the Naked Mole Rat area. It was designed so it felt like we were underground with bugs painted on the walls, and a few Mole Rat terrariums. We then visited elephants. My mom’s favorite animal is in fact an elephant. So when we spotted a few babies we both squealed in delight. One of the really cool ones to see in the zoo was the alligator pond. We went to this area where it was set up with wooden risers to sit on. In front was this big tank. So we were able to see the alligator in a better appeal. Another really cool one was the snake area. It showed so many amazing snakes. There was even this little simulator in the wall where you stuck your arm inside this socket and it would feel like a snake squeezing you. My dad tried it but I didn’t dare to even do it. I didn’t want to be squeezed by an unknowing snake.

We visited a lot of animals before we got really tired from walking. So we decided to go drive back to the hotel.

Above is a picture of one of the pandas in the Singapore Zoo.

I need braces.

My mouth is EXTREMELY sore. I mean I guess it’s starting to get a little bit better. But when I bite down it feels so weird. Like a millions little compression belts are squeezing my teeth. Now I know what you’re thinking. “Why are you rambling on and on about your oral pain?” Well I want people to know the process it takes for healthy teeth. One of the procedures are braces. And according to my orthodontist and my dentist I am in serious need of braces. I know it’s really weird to write about dental experiences instead of my usual roundup of stories and other things. But this is an experience that about 75 percent of the children in the world need to face. For the good of their our oral hygiene and the sake of your teeth. Let me start from yesterday at exactly 2:30 pm.

“Kanmani, time to go.” My dad snickered. He knew that I hated going to the dentist when I had a really loose tooth. It was one of my teeth at the bottom left. It was so loose that I was able to twist it the entire perimeter of it’s little gap with my tongue. I was really agitated and tenacious about this because the last time I had a dentist appointment, my dentists pulled out two loose teeth of mine. It’s my only phobia. Swallowing something that isn’t supposed to be swallowed. And that included teeth. My dad was ridiculing me. Saying things like “Hehe, I bet their gonna give you a bunch of shots Kanmani.” But I can resist pain. The average human body can handle 45 Dels(units) of pain. But when woman give birth, they feel up to 57 units of pain. That is similar to 20 bones getting fractured, all at the same time. And if that’s what woman go through then I can definitely handle my teeth being pulled out.

We were visiting a new dentist because my old one was meant for adults. What was really cool was that I got a dentist that had a building that was right being my pediatricians office. That’s pretty lucky if you ask me. Anyway, we walked in. My dad spoke to the lady in the front desk telling her that I had an appointment at 3:00 for Dr. Ballancio. We waited for about fifteen minutes, I had to sign a paper with my name, birth date, age, and gender. They finally called my name into the room. The first lady who cleaned my teeth and did x-rays was really nice. “So what are your hobbies?” She asked. “Hi ham hay hartist, hand hay hriter. Hi halso hlay huh hute and I hrite heet husic.” I doubted that she would understand but surprisingly she did. “Ah I see, so you are an artist, and a writer. You play flute and write sheet music as well? Wow, such a talented girl.” She replied. “Hank hu.” I said. “You’re welcome honey.” She let my dad in and showed him the x-rays of my teeth. “She will need braces.” I tried to keep my face straight. She handed my dad papers related to an orthodontist nearby that I could see for an evaluation.

~ Today ~

“Okay Kanmani, I want you to take of your glasses for me and turn around. That’s it, okay now can you sit on the seat for me? Thanks.” I was in the orthodontist’s office. The woman who was with me was really careful when using her hands. Her names was Tiffany and she was very nice. She made sure I was comfortable and when I winced, she always squeezed my hand or gave me a reassuring look of gratitude. We did a bunch of teeth examinations. A lady took me into this room where there were these machines that examined my teeth by spinning around my head like a mechanical halo. She was really nice as well. Okay, now that I think about it everyone was really nice. Like when the Dr. Miller the orthodontist spoke to my dad and I about the braces, he always threw in a joke or two. Tiffany lead me to another chair and told me that she was going to be putting spacers in my teeth. I cringed each time as the little blue rings squeezed into the gaps of my  teeth. When she was done I tried biting down. It hurt. A LOT. It felt like big chunks of food were stuck in my teeth or something. When I walked out my dad handed me a folder with information about the braces. I showed my dad the little blue spacers in between teeth. I sat on the leather sofa Then we were out the door.

 

Human spirits need places that are not rearranged by the hand of a domesticated soul.

  • Part 5 Day One

I was sitting by the window watching the rain drift down the window. Leaving streaks of fresh water, creating little droplets that followed the path left behind by the last water drop. We were driving along the road, each of us had our eyes trained onto one of the windows displaying the cityscapes outside. One of my favorite architectural buildings was these three towers that were in a line, then on the top of all of the buildings there was this huge boat laying on it’s stomach on the roofs of each tower. One of my other favorites was this big fountain representing a merlion, and on the bottom there were tiles arranged in a  formation that looked like waves. The tiles were all different colors, teal, ultramarine blue, sky blue, and sea green. My favorite color palette excavated into one place. I thought.  As we drove, I noticed that there wasn’t a single natural growing tree or plant in site. I mean, there wasn’t even moss on the old stone pillars or cement floors outside. It seemed that any greenery growing in an area was placed in that specific area, because it was a specific kind of plant. They either removed the original plants growing there, or placed new plant saplings there before the actual plant in the soil grew. Huh. I thought. How odd. But all in all, the city is amazing, and every building is always lit by lights.

The entire car ride, I spent my time keeping my eyes on the window, taking small notes in my head of the architecture and each and every building. Then we finally arrived in front of our hotel. It wasn’t that small, but not that big either. It was squished between two other building’s on the same side of the street. We all climbed out of the car, my grandfather was parked behind us. My dad and Ganesan Mama lugged our bags behind them. I had my backpack on my shoulders, it bounced up and down my back as I walked toward the door, my brother and my mom trailing behind me. When I walked inside the air conditioning hit me like an iceberg. I had to admit it felt nice to not be barbecued by the sun(the rain had suddenly stopped in the middle of the ride to the hotel.) I mean I know it’s weird to say this, but it felt like my pores were water bending. As we all filed into the lobby, sweat was dripping down the side of my face and going down my neck. My hair was sticking to my neck. The bags under my eyes looked worse with the sweat going down my face. We all stood there for a second taking in the coolness of the room.

Bala Thatha and my dad walked up to the desk that was beside the big glass double doors. I looked to see a little toy cat perched on the top, on of of the corners of the desk, it’s little plastic paw bopping up and down like a spring was behind it’s mechanism. We all then were led to our rooms. We all filed behind my grandfather, if you looked at us from the side we looked like we were on an assembly line in a factory. We finally stopped in front of one room, my dad opened the door. Wow. That single word repeated in my head as my mom, dad, my brother, my grandfather, and I walked inside. “Oh wow, it’s very small.” My mother scoffed. I really liked it though. And I knew we weren’t really going to be spending time in our rooms as the weeks spreads. There was one twin bed on each side of the room, the bed sheets looked like they were never used.( Yes, they were that clean.) There was a door leading to the bathroom in the corner, a TV was mantled at the top of room to the right side, and a dresser stood in the middle of the room, right next to the doorway.  (Ganesan Mama, Deepak, and Sumathi Aathai, were going to be staying in the room next to us. )

A little while later we went back to the lobby and walked out to a nearby restaurant Bala Thatha said was really good. We walked out the door and it felt like I was walking out of a freezer, and into an oven. The scorching heat made every piece of clothing I was wearing, feel incredibly uncomfortable. My shirt was sticking to my skin, my hair once again stuck to my neck and forehead. Sweat dripped down my face and ran down my neck and back. I had a lot of questions addressed to the sun that day… I UNDERSTAND THAT THE ENVIRONMENT IS THIS WAY BUT CAN’T YOU MAKE IT A LITTLE MORE TOLERABLE? I AM SPEAKING FOR HALF OF THE POPULATION RIGHT NOW. YOU FIND MY COMPLAINTS ANNOYING? YEAH WELL, DEAL WITH IT. We continued walking as the sun shined rays of disappointment at my face.

We came to a stop in front of a restaurant sporting the name Anand Bhavan( The restaurant was located in Little India).  There wasn’t a door to walk through, but it was designed so it was in the architecture of a garage, so you literally walk in and out. We stepped inside and sat down in little tables that were beside the counter. When our food was all ready, it was brought out by the owner of the store. She was extremely nice and served us our food with a smile. It was hard not to think of her as my grandmother. She was that nice. After we finished the last bits of our meal( it was delicous) we gave her our thanks, and walked out. Then my  grandfather decided to take us to the Singapore Botanical Garden. As we drove along, I surveyed the city once more( and yelled at the sun quietly) We finally pulled up in front of the parking garage, we all stepped out carefully, I clutched the door handle and hopped out( except my grandfather, he stayed in his car and said he would wait for us). We all walked to the entrance and walked in. Now let me tell you one thing. There were plants and greenery EVERYWHERE. I couldn’t even find a spot where there wasn’t any shrub or flower dominating the ground.

We walked along, Deepak and I took a few pictures of the tree’s and the little critters running around the branches. We then stopped in front of this big area where it was covered in wood chips, leafs, soil, and little green sprouts. There were tree’s scattered along the area, there roots were sprawled about like waves in the treacherous sea. My dad tapped on my shoulder lightly and pointed to the ground, a little sign was put into the soft soil. It read: HELP TO PROTECT OUR TREES. Root zones of trees are very important as they channel the nutrients and help trees grow. They are easily damaged from trampling and other human activities. Please help us to protect them by staying out of the area. – Singapore Botanic Gardens. I gave my dad a solemn face as we continued walking. An image of that sign was embedded into my head. Taunting me of what people are trying to put in other human’s clueless heads. We wouldn’t have to do this and give people a literal sign to read, if they respect nature and leave it alone. Anyway. we continued walking, the sun unfortunately didn’t hide behind storm clouds again. Even with the shade from the trees, we were still grilled by solar flares.

We came to a stop every time we reached a little koi fish pond, marveling at the large fish swimming along. There were all different kinds. Orange and white, midnight black, or orange, black, and white spot and specks all around there bodies. We continued walking, I tried identifying each and every tree we saw. But one of my favorite tree’s in the whole world is a Northern Red Oak tree. Though they are native in North America, I was able to see a few in the gardens. They looked brilliant in the sunlight, the sun’s rays penetrated the tree’s green hues, making it look like a stained glass tapestry. It looked almost celestial to me. After seeing my favorite tree species in such a bewitching form I started looking closely for the ingenuity of multiple natural elements creating into one stunning form of art made by the forces of nature and the elements of the Earth.

We soon came to a stop at a gazebo that looked out to a large pond that also seemed to be home to many turtles. We all sat in the gazebo, watching the turtles, and looked at the tree’s and bushes nestled amongst each other around the pond. We talked for a while, speaking about the flight and how the experience was so far. Then we walked to this area where they had this large building that looked a lot like a bamboo cabin to me. When we walked inside we discovered that they were little signs and inscriptions giving information about the orchids that were nearby in the garden we were currently in. We read each of the inscriptions and looked at the little displays as well. When we walked out, I took a few pictures of the orchids and then I observed each one. One of the ones that really caught my eye were these clusters of blue and white orchids, that merged into purple and indigo ones. I mean, they were diverse, but at the same time united. I know it sounds weird but I am telling you what I saw, and that is what I had seen. What I love about orchids is that the color can either look like a it was painted with a brush, or splattered with a brush. The way it grows can make it look like a creatures face or look like a mythical object. I mean it’s such a unique botanical phenomena, there is no reason for me to not love them so much.

Now here is one part that probably was really embarrassing and aggravating at the same time. We decided to buy little cups of ice cream for each of us to eat. We all sat on these big stone benches and ate. Once we were done, we threw away our cups and started walking. We wanted to head back to the parking lot so week can meet my grandfather and go back to the hotel. Buuuuuut we didn’t now which way to go. We tried the map but the way back was to far. So Deepak and I walked to the lady who was working at the little store selling the ice cream. “I am so sorry to bother you ma’am, but do you know the shortest way to the exit?” I asked. Her kind face looked sorrowful as she said “Sorry, the only way back is the way shown on the map.” Deepak and I huffed in dismay. “Thank you so much ma’am, again, we are so sorry to bother you.” I said.

We walked back to where we left the adults. We eventually found our way back to the front, and waked back to the parking lot where Bala Thatha stood there reading on his tablet. We were all extremely tired, on the car ride, I had to keep my head from drooping down and dislocating my neck from the sudden movement that would happen in the car. We all finally got back to our rooms, I changed into my purple pajamas and crashed into bed. “Good night Kanma-.” I was asleep before my dad could finish his sentence

Above is a picture of one of the many tree’s that were standing in the gardens.

Here is a picture of Singapore at sunset.

Stop looking for happiness in the place where you watched it all perish.

Disclaimer: I wanted to dedicate just one post to a movie review, but I will still continue writing about my trip next week. I just wanted to fit in this one post because I think it has a message that everyone needs to hear. And when I say everyone needs to hear the message it sends, I mean it.

When people think about happiness, they think everything in their life is perfect, or will be perfect. I can explain to you for hours about how wrong that is. Happiness depends on your life, what situation you’re in, and how you live. Happiness isn’t by chance, but by choice. I like to think that happiness is like rain. It can come to you when you least expect it. First it’s just a drizzle, then it’s pouring, finally your soaked. Like I said, it depends, on the way you live. But it also depends on what kind of person you are. Happiness can either come to you in storm, or leave you waiting in a dry, secluded, desert. So when making choices in life that can affect your happiness, and other people’s lives, choose wisely.  Be fearless in the pursuit of what sets you on fire, you’ll be surprised on how much of an affect it can have on your life.

Christoper “Chris” Gardner is mainly known for being a stockbroker, motivational speaker, and an author in his later life. But what really shocked people when they heard of his backstory, was of his struggle. Long before he became so successful he was struggling to find a place that he and his young son could call home. In the 1980’s he struggled with finding a decent job, and finding places to stay and keep his son safe. They both once had to sleep in a bathroom stall in a Bart station. They had to sleep in churches where other people who had a similar situation as them came as well. This all took place in San Fransisco. Where people who are struggling with daily living and finding homes roam the streets even today. That is probably the saddest part out of the whole thing. People still roam, they can’t find a place that they can call home. Every time I think about this I feel guilty. I have a decent education. I have a roof over my head, food on the table. I have warm clothes to wear. I have a computer that I can type in. I can afford a doctor and dentist. I have a place that I call home. Just think about it for a moment. You’ll understand what I feel.

A few weeks ago I was working on one of my posts for the blog, my dad was standing over me reading through. He then said “You should watch the movie The Pursuit of Happyness and write a post about it.” I saw the DVD just sitting there so once I finished the post, I put the DVD into the desktop and pressed play. The movie was based of Chris Gardner’s life during the 1980’s. In one of the scene’s it showed Chris( played by Will Smith) and his son (Played by Jaden Smith) are waiting in a long thick line leading to a church that is letting people sleep there for one night. The line was so long, some people fought with each other to get to the front, or get a chance to sleep in a bed. It was so so sad. But one of the saddest parts was when they were both sleeping in a bathroom stall, the door was locked so no one could find them. There were actual tears on the keyboard that I was leaning on. I wish everyone in the world could watch this movie and think about it for a while. He didn’t look for happiness in the place where it perished. He looked everywhere but there. And that is how you get yourself on the pursuit on happiness.

 

 

 

I’m not the same after watching the rain fall on the other side of the world

Here is a brief description of what I know about Singapore:

Every time I hear the name Singapore, I usually think of words like “tropical,” or “rain forest environment.” But I realized a little more than two years ago that there’s definitely more to this Malaysian state then tropics and rain showers. Singapore is one of the fourteen states in Malaysia supporting a population of more than 5,784,538 people on a 270 square miles of land area. Being the smallest country in southeast Asia it is still widely know for it’s tropical climate, and large multicultural population as well. Since it lies 137 kilometers north of the equator, it is incredibly hot. It’s brutal weather can get a while to adapt to. But with it’s rain forest like climate it also consists of very sudden rain showers. What I really like about Singapore is that it has a deep history for it’s name. It was first know as Temasek meaning “sea town” in the Javanese culture.  Later in 1299 an Indonesian king mistakenly had though an unidentified creature as a lion while visiting the island. Naming the lion Singapura. Which is Sanskrit for Lion City( unfortunately there are no actual lions in the wild in Singapore.)

  • Part 4

My legs felt like airplane mush as I walked into the entrance of Terminal Three. I was relieved that I wasn’t walking around in walkways that were only thirty-six inches wide and on an airborne aviation vehicle. I mean, I’m not scared of heights or anything it’s just, walking on a piece of machinery that is thirty six thousand feet in the air is quite overwhelming if you think about it for a while. We then got ourselves freshened up and attempted to jump start our aching bodies. We were currently in Terminal Three but we then went to Terminal Two bye monorail. As we rode inside we noticed that the big windows inside made it very easy to the see the gardens and architecture outside. We then met up with Ganesan Mama( Mama means uncle). He is one of my dad’s childhood best friend. He brought along Sumathi Athai( athai means aunt), and there son Deepak.  My brother looked a little better then the way he did when we got of the airplane. His eyes were still tired and weary, but he had a little spring to each step he took. The same with my father, the redness in his eyes were still there from the flight, but he was a lot more active than he was before. On the other hand we were all a little better than we were before we landed.

While we passed by all of the shops and stores, my brother’s eyes must have been caught by one of the toy stores. He started kicking and screaming, asking for one of the toys they were displaying, he one the argument. Apparently he wanted this bow and arrow thing with Captain America on it. I was hoping that he wouldn’t start shooting little foam darts at me.

Now here is the part that probably annoyed me the most out of the whole time we were in Singapore. Baggage claiming. I now it doesn’t really sound that bad but really it is probably the most irritating part of a long distance trip. Well for me anyway. It all started when we all had to go to that big baggage claiming area to pick up or luggage. But we couldn’t find any of ours. Not even a single piece of luggage. I MEAN WE LITERALLY BROUGHT LIKE THREE DUFFEL BAGS AND THATS IT. We looked for our bags for like fifteen minutes. Then my dad took the situation into his own hands and went to the office that was in charge of any mishaps that have happened with passenger’s luggage. We sat on these couches that were nearby and waited, we were all talking and chatting, my brother was jumping from couch to couch. He kept asking me the same question over and over again. “Where’s daddy?” I didn’t give him a reply because he was right there beside me when we saw my dad walk away to the office. So I just shot my brother a dirty look. I wasn’t exactly helping my own little situation by doing that little act of annoyance. Finally my dad came lugging our bags behind him.

The next thing that happened was probably my favorite part out of the whole time we were in Singapore. We went outside to meet Bala Thatha( Thatha means grandfather by the way)who was going to be taking us to the hotel we rented. Now here comes the part that I loved the most. When we all stepped outside it was pouring rain. Usually one of my fondest memories in Singapore consists of the sudden rain. One time I was seven years old and we were in Singapore. We were just strolling along a market. The sky was completely clear, not a single cloud in the sky when we walked inside. Then when we walked outside it was pouring rain. The sky was completely gray, storm clouds were everywhere. The warm rain ran down my cheeks and made my hair curl with each raindrop. We were only in the store for a little more than ten to twenty minutes. It shocked us all to find that in such a short amount of time there was this much rain. It was the same situation when we were outside the airport with Bala Thatha. Once again my hair curled around framing my face. Raindrops trickled down my hair and skin. Splattering on my clothes and shoes. It tickled my toes as it reached my socks and bare feet underneath the strong material of the shoe. My grandfather greeted us all. He shook my hand, his hand was very burly and strong, his palm was warm and smooth. This was the first time I ever got to meet him in person.

He was very nice and was fun to be around. I like him very much.  My dad then asked him “When did you come here?” “I came three hours before you guys came.” I stared in shock. He was waiting for three hours and he didn’t look annoyed our winded at all. He must have seen the guilty looks on our faces because he then said “Don’t worry, I was just reading my book the entire time. I was very deep into the book so I didn’t mind.” Though on the outside I just smiled, on the inside my mind was doing a dance. HE READS BOOKS AS MUCH AS ME! A FELLOW BOOKWORM! WOOOOHOOOO! He then nonchalantly walked up to one of the doors of the big black cab and asked “Everybody ready to go?” We all nodded and stepped inside, still dripping wet from the rain. The plan was that we were going to be riding in a big cab, while he rode in his own car with all of our luggage with him. I sat there and looked out the window, and I watched as the rain danced for us halfway across the world.

Changi Airport in Singapore.

The world is like a book, those who aren’t curious only read the title.

  • Part 3

My legs wobbled as I walked along to the seats by the gate. Everyone aboard the flight were given a one hour break to “freshen up.” But I honestly don’t think that people could recover after a thirteen hour and thirty minute flight in one hour. We had just landed in Hong Kong. My mom and I went to the bathroom to brush our teeth, and comb our hair( and may I mention, the bathroom was so cool.) My brother and my dad went to the men’s restroom as my mom and I got our stuff ready and put together. I reorganized my first aid supplies and took out my little leather journal and stuck it in my pocket. I knew I would use it later. My brother and dad came back. I marveled at the structure and size as my brother look wide-eyed at the planes that were lined up in rows, counting each one and talking excitedly about how he loved it and how cool it was( he was four years old so this was quite typical). We walked down to the gate. Passing by shops and stores. We stopped by a Starbucks and my dad bought a coffee. and two cookies for my brother and I. My brother and I ate the cookies as we pointed out to stores and got closer to the gate. We walked into the gate, giving our tickets to the lady collecting them in the desk beside the gate.

We went to our seats, and I claimed the window seat(again) to my fathers playful dismay. I settled in my seat, buckling my seat belt with ease. My brother needed help with his though. His seat belt sat in a sad little pile of metal and material on his lap. i put it on and he sat there happily. I looked out the window at the ground below. I saw workers bustling around with carts of luggage, putting it inside the plane that was a few miles away. The plane started to move slowly at first, we picked up speed, going along the runway. I gripped the armrests. I love it when we take off because it feels like you are so pressurized into the seats that you could be going into the speed of a rocket ship picking up speed as it goes out of the Earth’s atmospheric layer. We were finally in the air, I looked down below, watching the buildings and towers. One of my favorite sights to see on a plane though is the ocean. It’s amazing to see the different shades of blue’s and bluish greens.

I didn’t know what else to do with myself so I decided to switch on the screen and play a movie. Shortly afterwards, I was deep into the movie. Flight attendants started coming down the rows with meals for the passengers. I munched on my food while watching my movie, looking out the window, and was carefully making sure my brother didn’t spill anything. This flight was three hours and fifty minutes, since it was from Hong Kong to Singapore. And we were already about an hour in. I was starting to re watch the live action Cinderella movie because everything else stored in the options was either something I already watched, or something I wasn’t allowed to watch by my parent’s request’s. Plus, I really liked the movie. It was very good.

What I noticed about people boarding planes and getting off them is that there are two stereotypes. There is that person or group of people that enjoy every minute of their travel, and breathe in every moment they have away from home. On the other hand there are the people who tend to be, um, unappreciative. It’s always click, click, click, click. Tens and hundreds of unnecessary pictures. Can pictures make you hear? No. Can pictures make you touch? No. Can pictures make you feel? No. Absolutely not. It’s better to live the moment then look at it through a screen. You could probably tell which stereotype I seem to prefer the most.

Throughout the whole flight I spent most of my time looking out the window, or watching a movie. But I thought as well, taking notes in my head of what I saw and what we did. Soon enough, we heard over the speaker. “We will be landing in Singapore, please prepare for landing.” As soon as I heard those words I looked at my brother, my mom, and my dad. I produced a ridiculous grin of excitement and enjoyment.

An aerial view of Kong Kong Airport.