joe den forbade me to do this bfore today..
he got shortlisted for the IMPAC awards..
haha..
im soo glad..
he really deserved it..
well..
he got a Merit award..
which is VERY good already!!
ahha..
he is so geng!
im posting his merit essay here..
The Best Things In Life
It is true that the greatest ideas come from deep and insightful thoughts, or spurred by long walks by the beach. Maybe even by spontaneous moments that stimulate the brain to get a sudden pang of clarity, enough for you to smack yourself in the head for not seeing what was staring right in your face with its beady eyes. But impulsive ideas, laid-back strolls, and ridiculous amounts of brainpower did not seem to be helping me to get anywhere with my dilemma.
As I fiddled with my I pod restlessly, I clutched my sketchbook to my chest dearly as I witnessed the sun sink into the horizon at snail’s pace. A scene that could put the Titanic to shame. Somehow, my mind was drifting somewhere beyond the horizon. What could I possibly write to sum up the best things in life? The scope was so wide, the possibilities were endless. I sprawled on the grassy field, allowing the winds to gently caress my face. Inspiration, that’s what I needed. I slowly lowered my eyelids just as the final ray of light faded into the starry beyond.
The chilly winds got my brain thinking. What about my family? I could write a five foot essay solely on that topic. My family was my roots, the base of my existence. My parents were the axis that made my world go round and my siblings were the stars that kept me company. My mind buzzed with scrambled thoughts as I trudged through the park. I wanted something with more oomph. Something that would stand out. Not just another mediocre topic that sent readers yawning from top to bottom.
The sounds of me dragging my shoes echoed in the distance. I came to a halt as I turned to look at a crowded night market. From afar, the lights seemed to be pulsating with a life of its own. In the midst of all the hustle and bustle, I saw a little boy tugging his mother’s skirt, attempting to drag her towards the pile of suspicious looking cakes. A grin spread across my face as I reminisced my childhood days. Then it struck me. I could write my essay about food. I could describe how I love the feeling of cream melting in my mouth, how I could feel its sweetness lingering at the back of my throat even after I had long finished it. I could share with the world, how I would get excited over a simple piece of French toast, how I would roll my eyes back in pleasure, as I send my taste buds on a joy ride, transporting me to gourmet nirvana. Food was my passion, but could it relate to others?
I plonked myself onto a nearby bench. Sighing, I thrust my head back to watch the moonlight slowly stain the night sky yellow. It was as though someone had thrown dye into a river, and the colours slowly flowed downstream, creating a beautiful fusion of dazzling colours. Messy yet elegant. Nature was God’s greatest gift. Come to think of it, this could be an interesting topic to write about. Everyone appreciates nature. Be it watching the northern lights shimmer with the glow of a thousand light bulbs to observing fluffy white clouds form intriguing shapes while lying on your back on a weekend. Yet, mankind seemed determined to see Mother Nature die a slow death, as though contemplating suicide. I pursed my lips. “Risky” I thought. I would probably just be contradicting myself.
Something, or rather someone made a timid noise from somewhere below the bench. Bewildered, I looked between my legs only to find a child, in a scruffy coat that was twice his size, holding out his badly bruised hands, indicating he wanted a donation of any sort. A stab of sorrow ran through my body as I bore witness to just one of many poverty cases in this country. I pulled out a ten dollar note out of my pocket, which he practically snatched out of my grasp, as he gleefully sped off in the opposite direction. Coming from a wealthy background, I have always taught myself to appreciate what fate has decided to bestow upon me. Maybe this was what I should write about. The best thing in life should be about what you already possess, not what you desire. Why complain about going to school, when children halfway across the world would kill to get even an ounce of education?
As I continued my journey of seeking inspiration, I walked past a house with its window left ajar. A girl, her face contorted with concentration, was attempting a rather hard piece, which I recognized as one of Tchaikovsky’s finest works, on the piano. What about music? Music is something none of us can live without. Music needs no definition. Music by itself is an expression, a word, a thought, a phrase, and even a message. Playing music with your own hands is entirely different from just listening. The moment you are so absorbed in playing, you feel what the composer feels, and you begin to see the piece with your ears, not your eyes. And there comes a moment when you play with your heart, no longer waiting for the muscle memory to kick in. When you do, its heaven. Every note to the last staccato is an art passed down from generations, painstakingly carved and shaped through time. Ultimately, music is universal.
I just could not stop smiling. I felt like the 4th of July fireworks display had just commenced in my brain. It was as though adrenaline was shooting out of my ears. A phenomenal feeling. I knew just exactly what I would write. Indeed, it had been staring at me right in the face since the very beginning. It was better than family ties, exquisite cuisines, or even the intriguing wonders of nature. I let myself fall into the field of grass I had been lying on earlier as I watched the moon, as though it was smiling to congratulate my ingenious breakthrough. If everything I had witnessed today had taught me one thing, it was this. The best thing in life was, well, just living.
spoken like a true writer!!
GRATZ JOE!!
enjoy ur win and ur lolipop..
im so proud to be ur friend..haha
signing off,
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