We had just a few good days of summer when the sun blazed and nearly everyone was out of the house, taking advantage of the good weather. My garden was clothed in splendour, not unlike desert vegetation once the rain falls.
Now, Autumn has descended on us with its mellow fruitfulness, to quote Keats. Where did summer go? Leaves turn red and brown and birds start their migration. Coats make their reappearance and sun dresses go back into the recesses of the wardrobe.
Before we know it, Winter has arrived.
I have just got a form from the church where I can plan what would be done the day I am on the runway to the other world. Sounds morbid, but I thought that it is a brilliant idea — one can never be too ready for anything.
As a child I was taught never to mention the word “death” as it would bring bad luck. Yet, death is part of living, and the sooner we are comfortable with it, the better prepared we are.
My favourite question on the form is: “What song would you like to be sung at your funeral?”
That’s easy.
I think Turn! Turn! Turn! by the Byrds will be absolutely brilliant. The music is catchy and the words are so appropriate:
“To everything — turn, turn, turn
There is a season — turn, turn, turn,
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die… A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal… a time to laugh, a time to weep…”
The funny thing is there are no long periods of equilibrium. Just when you are rejoicing over some happy event, another challenging situation rears its head. Yes, there is a season for everything and we change along the way.
I was in the company of some friends who seemed to have everything — a cosy and privileged childhood and adulthood. In short, they have never been in want before. Subconsciously, we make comparisons as to why we are given a certain lot in life and why others seem to have it easy. So I took some time to digest the matter and came away understanding myself better.
I like the phrase “Note to self” — particularly note to my younger self. In retrospect, there are many things that I wished I had done or not done before. There are many worries that I need not have shouldered. There are many expectations that I need not have harboured.
I was watching the finals of The Child Genius Competition 2016 over Channel 4 (a British public-service television broadcaster), where children compete for the coveted trophy.
I cringed when I saw how the mother of the champion, (who has put her career on hold as an obstetrician to focus on her daughter’s education), fought to get the extra point for her child, even though she was probably in the right.
The MailOnline had headlines that went “Well done — you swindled your daughter to the final: Rhea’s ‘pushy mum’ is criticised after she got another child kicked off before daughter, 10, was crowned winner of C4’s Child Genius”.
I share the same feelings as the many who took to berating the mum online, such as, “It is a game. She is only 10 years old. This is not going to define her life”.
But then again, if I had been her with my 10-year-old on the podium battling for the trophy, would I have acted the same?
People say that with age, we grow wiser. But I think it is more of experiences that make us wiser and better people.
As I scroll down the most curious aforesaid form, there is this question on what choice of a box I would like to be in — gold gilded, cedar wood or cushioned with taffeta silk?
My memories of Dracula movies tell me to avoid a certain shape altogether. And I think of trees being lumbered indiscriminately, so nothing wooden for me either.
Since I love basketry, willow sounds like a good idea.
Dr Koh Soo Ling was a lecturer at Universiti Teknologi Mara and now spends her days enjoying life as it is