Friday, March 25, 2011

I've Got A Proposal To Make.

I have had the ring for eight months now.

She organised my surprise 30th birthday party and I was kicking myself that I didn't have the ring to counter-surprise her. It was there where I asked a friend if she would accompany me to buy the ring.

I have had the ring for eight months now.

I was thinking about how to propose to her. I toyed with the idea of skywriting, but luckily a friend talked me out of it. What about putting it up on a billboard just like the Malaysian guy did? But I felt that was just a little toopublic.

On and on the thoughts streamed about how I was going to ask Karen to marry me, and finally the words 'Say Yes' popped into my head.

How about a video proposal, and getting our friends and family on board? My heart raced with the thought of the one idea that could finally work, and so the wheels started churning.

This is the beginning of what I call the 'scheming for good.' This was the two months spent in secret e-mails to family and friends asking them if they would take part in this project. Two months of private browsing in the Firefox windows, pretending to be hard at work with Karen sitting unwittingly opposite me, suppressing the smiles inside with every new picture that came along.

And then the last few days of telling untruths about being at study groups with friends or with my brother when I was actually shooting my photos for the video, and going over to a friend's house to put the video together, which she kindly and patiently did.

This is what two and a half months of planning culminated in:

That's all it is. Me making a stupid face!


Thank you to all who have helped out in this video with your photos, encouragement and love. The road ahead is exciting and scary all at once, and we need your continued love and prayers as we walk down the aisle towards the rest of our lives together.

P.S. She posted a response as well! She never ceases to amaze me, this woman!




Random Memories: Thirteen Years Old

It was a huge centerpage in our local newspaper, The Star. It was the story of this loving couple who were in the dance ministry at their church and talked about how he proposed to her in a really special manner.

They were walking in the KLCC park one evening, when he led her to a bridge. Six friends, all dressed as mimes were standing along the bridge, and soft music started playing in the background. All of them were holding plates, with napkins sitting over them.

A card read on the first plate reads 'I love you because...' she uncovers the napkin '... of your smile that could light a small city.' The mime starts to smile widely and invisible light bulbs were going off everywhere.

She turns to her boyfriend and smiles, his plan becoming apparent.

'I love you because...' the second plate read as she pulled away the napkin. '... you laugh at my jokes even when they are not funny.' The mime doubles over in silent laughter at a bad joke that you couldn't hear.

'...your fried rice makes the hawkers jealous.'
'... you love my family, and my dog.'
'... of your beauty and grace when you dance.'

The mimes cooked, petted invisible dogs and twirled continuously as she came to the final dish.

This napkin was covering an object.

The last card read - 'But most of all, I love you because...'

The mime is motionless. She pulls away at the napkin and gasps.

It is a mirror.

'...of who you are.' She is surprised by her tears as she feels him tap her on the shoulder. She turns around to find him on bended knee with the open box containing the ring that would join her to him for the rest of their lives.

Through her tears, she says yes.

Something in my thirteen year old heart wanted so badly to one day have a special wedding proposal of my own.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

I Want To Run Through The Halls of My Primary School

Coming out from an evening shift yesterday, I walked in the cold dark night towards my car. I was trying to think warm thoughts (hot cocoa, a blazing campfire, a thick padded jacket, a refrigerator, a polar bear, ice cream, air-conditioning, the North pole, ... thinkwarmthoughtsthinkwarmthoughts) and bravely walk to my car, when my shrunken manhood decided to run. like. hell. for the car.

And so I ran - the wind against my face, my heart pumping in my ears, my stethoscope swinging threateningly close to my jaw and my keys jangling in my work trousers. I couldn't help but smile as I finally reached my car, feeling as exhilarated as a five year old who had won first prize in the egg-and-spoon race in his kindergarten.

It was times like these which reminded me to love my knees while I still have them. I think about how one day at sixty, when my back will betray me and my knees will be nothing but a distant beautiful memory, I will surely miss them dearly.

Random Memories: Eight Years Old

I was never very athletic. I couldn't sprint, I couldn't jump, my shot putt was more like a short putt. I couldn't kick a ball straight to save my life, and always return the shuttlecock straight into the net. My favourite swimming style was kicking your feet randomly while holding the edges of the pool, or drowning. Basketball was more like under-the-basketball.

And so every little victory counts. I had won a silver medal once when I was eight during my school's Sports Day. I remember wearing the medal proudly around my neck as my little feet staggered up the bus, the medal gleaming as it swung across my tummy.

Hey Everyone! Look at me! Mr. Second Place in the Egg-In-The-Spoon Race.

I walked past two boys, one from St John's, and the other one from a Chinese school.

Oi! Give us a look! the bespectacled Chinese boy reached for my medal as I stood before him, beaming proudly.

Wow! Second place in the egg-and-spoon race! Not bad ah! he seemed genuinely happy for me.

The 13-year-old St. John boy came up and then looked at the inscription on the back. Cheh! his mouth sneered in disdain. It's not even a proper race. It's for primary school kids one lah!

I continued smiling but inside I was crestfallen.

Eh, okay what, their field is quite big one, you know, the Chinese boy said in my defence.

The secondary school boy turned his head away, his condescending sneer taking the shine off my highest ever achievement in sports.