- Thomas Jefferson-
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Pudu; An Epitaph.
This one was back when they announced that Pudu Jail is going to be demolished. I do not know why its sitting in the drafts folder.
A hundred and score years she stood
The grand old lady,
of Sorrow some said and Redemption for others
Out of English sense of right and wrong it came
of foreign bricks upon conquereds land was she built
A sign of might, a statement building,
A gaol.
Many came in, many left
But some never walked out again
Strung up, when the Law pronounced them condemned
Dead man walking, they say.
For those who left,
Through the same iron doors they first came through
When the Law deemed them reformed,
but Society is often the harshest Judge
For those who walked out are never truly free,
Forever they bore the invisible mark all can see,
that once a convict, always a convict.
Time pass by,
Convicts came, convicts left, convicts died
But still she stood,
amongst the maddening pace of progress
The old lady of Pudu
Alas,
She herself stands condemned,
Greed her hangman
The noose, our ignorance.
Oh i curse the powers that be
Who sold our past for a pot of gold
For is it our way to erase history and to kill the old?
I pity our children, and their children's children
Who could not forget what they never learned
Who cannot know what they never saw at all
That there was once an old prison in Pudu
and we sold it all for a mall.
In memory of our another demolished past,
1895-2010
A hundred and score years she stood
The grand old lady,
of Sorrow some said and Redemption for others
Out of English sense of right and wrong it came
of foreign bricks upon conquereds land was she built
A sign of might, a statement building,
A gaol.
Many came in, many left
But some never walked out again
Strung up, when the Law pronounced them condemned
Dead man walking, they say.
For those who left,
Through the same iron doors they first came through
When the Law deemed them reformed,
but Society is often the harshest Judge
For those who walked out are never truly free,
Forever they bore the invisible mark all can see,
that once a convict, always a convict.
Time pass by,
Convicts came, convicts left, convicts died
But still she stood,
amongst the maddening pace of progress
The old lady of Pudu
Alas,
She herself stands condemned,
Greed her hangman
The noose, our ignorance.
Oh i curse the powers that be
Who sold our past for a pot of gold
For is it our way to erase history and to kill the old?
I pity our children, and their children's children
Who could not forget what they never learned
Who cannot know what they never saw at all
That there was once an old prison in Pudu
and we sold it all for a mall.
In memory of our another demolished past,
1895-2010
Welcome to the Jungle
Office politics have always amused me. The rivalries, the backstabbings, the drama, the petty alliances, the kontroversis which is all geared towards the ultimate aim; To be in the Boss's good books. No different here in the simulated office environment.
And how odd for me to be able to withstand all this.
And how odd for me to be able to withstand all this.
Mo Man Tai
Paperwork paperwork and more paperwork. In between the junk foods, processed stuffs and the crazy race against Time we derive joy from life's simple pleasure like falling asleep in the lecture halls or the fact that it was the simple fact that you'll get used to the sleep deprivation over time. T The most important thing now is not to lose your momentum. This ain't hell, this is just a mere fraction of the life that we city dwellers have chosen to be in. There is always a choice.
Hell Freezes Over
i'm done. with the first circle of hell that is. its hell but not enough to warrant bellows of frustration nor physical destruction. it is tiring sure but its not as bad as what the previous semesters have to endure. perhaps our added number have something to do with it. its that or the lecturers are getting too old, all mellowed out to give us hell. we're getting soft. i fear that with each semesters the product is not as good as the previous batches were. where their resilence were tempered from hard work, sweat, tears, and scary as hell lecturers and rejected works, i fear OURS is soft. Way too soft i guess. Anyway i am glad its over. One down, one more semester to go.
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