Challenge (Day 7)

Monday, June 27, 2011



#7: Choose lyrics and explain why you chose them.



I just can't sleep tonight, knowing that things aren't right
It's in the papers, it's on the TV, it's everywhere that I go
Children are crying, soldiers are dying, some people don't have a home

But I know there's sunshine behind that rain
I know there's good times behind that pain
Hey, can you tell me how I can make a change?

I close my eyes and I can see a brighter day
I close my eyes and pray
I close my eyes and I can see a better day
I close my eyes and pray

I lose my appetite knowing kids starve tonight
Am I a sinner, 'cause my dinner is still on my plate?
Ooh I got a vision to make a difference
And it's starting today

'Cause I know there's sunshine behind that rain
I know there's good times behind that pain
Can you tell me how I can make a change?

I close my eyes and I can see a brighter day
I close my eyes and pray
I close my eyes and I can see a better day

I close my eyes and pray for the broken-hearted
I pray for the life not started
I pray for all the ones not breathing
I pray for all the souls in need
I pray, can you give 'em one today?

I just can't sleep tonight
Can someone tell me how to make a change?

I close my eyes and I can see a brighter day
I close my eyes and pray
I close my eyes and I can see a better day
I close my eyes and I pray, I pray, I pray
I close my eyes and pray, pray


From the 11th to the 18th of June, I experienced my worst week ever. The 11th was a Saturday, it seemed like any other Saturday — I woke up grumpily at 8am, trudged to my bathroom to get ready for my classes — until I learnt that my aunt (Dad's brother's wife) had passed away early that morning, after her long battle with cancer. She left behind 2 beautiful daughters and her beloved husband. It felt odd as I tried to comprehend my mother's words that my aunt was gone. I'll admit that I wasn't very close to my aunt, albeit when I stayed at my grandparents' place for 2 years, I saw her alot as she would go over for dinner almost every night.

For the first time ever, I witnessed the fragility of life. 2 days before her death, I was there in the hospital by her bedside, watching her fight with that terrible illness. She looked so pale, so thin and so fragile. She looked so different from how she was just another 2 days back. She still had a flush of colour in her cheeks then, and was capable of speech although she spoke very softly as every word uttered out of her mouth required her to take in a big gulp of air. I saw her chest heaved up and down as she confided in my mother about how painful the therapy was and how much she was hurting. I dare not look at her. Not because I was afraid, but because I was worried that she might feel uneasy.

Have you ever wondered that when you visit a patient in a hospital who is suffering from a terminal illness, what thoughts goes through the patient's mind? Is the patient thinking: 'Oh, here comes another one. Is he/she visiting me because they are afraid that they'll not get a chance to see me again? Or is he/she truly visiting me with well wishes carried in his/her heart?' I don't know which mentality I was in when I visited my aunt. If I am forced to give an answer, then I'd say both. The rational side of me chose the former, the emotional side of me chose the latter. I tried hard to ignore the debate which went on in my head. I felt that it wasn't fair for the patient — in this instance, my aunt.

That night on the 11th, I slept at 3am as the scene of my crying cousins wouldn't stop replaying in my head. Early next morning on the 12th, at about 7am, I was dreaming happily when I heard my mother's voice. She was shrieking, at the top of her lungs. In my subconsciousness, I tuned into her conversation — she was on the phone with someone. "WHAT?! DAD IS IN TROUBLE? WHAT HAPPENED?? MOM? MOM? MOM!!!" My eyes flew opened instantly and I bolted out of my room into my parents' room where my mother was. I'll never forget her expression. It was charged with horror while panic-stricken at the same time. Without a word from her, I ran back into my room and for the first time ever in my life, I changed and was ready to go in less than 5 minutes.

My dad had to use the car that day, so we had to take a cab. As we stood by the roadside, trying to flag down a cab, my mother was so anxious that she kept rubbing her two hands together. I saw tears gathering at the bottom of her eyes. I knew her worry for her father, but I doubt I'll never understand how that worry felt like. Afterall, emotions differ for everyone. A person can only relate to another's emotions. Nonetheless, no matter how much relation there is, you can never understand how the other person feels.

I lived the next 7 days of my life between the wake, the hospital and home. All my meals were settled outside. Home was merely a place to sleep. The word 'hectic' wasn't sufficient to express how that week went by. Every day, I would wake up with no one at home albeit it was merely 9 in the morning — my family members were either at the wake or the hospital. I had never felt more weak and more helpless. Not even during that terrible break-up which I had undergone last year. I withdrew myself from everyone, my friends included. They were still there for me though, waiting patiently till I was ready to come out of my protective shell. (Love you peeps so much for it! XOXO) I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what to think or how to feel. I didn't know how to face all the emotions rumbling in me. It took awhile for me to figure out that the thing I should be doing was to flick off all emotions and thoughts, and be strong not just for my cousins or for my grandfather, but for the whole family — both sides of the family, dad's and mom's.

For that week, I prayed more than I ever have. I prayed at the wake. I prayed at the hospital as I sat beside my grandfather while he was sound asleep. I prayed for strength. I prayed for a better tomorrow. I prayed for my family. I prayed for everyone, including that old uncle in the same ward as my grandfather who snores super loudly (even louder than my grandfather!) when he sleeps.

I'm glad that that horrible week has passed. My cousins are much better now, though I know that they will never be completely fine. My grandfather has been discharged and is slowly recuperating at home.

Praying is a form of exercising The Secret. It helps to generate positive thoughts and hence it creates the universe that we want. In the past, I could never understand why people prayed, but trust me now when I say that I do. Praying isn't something silly. It's actually a very therapeutic reflective calming activity. Hmmm. I meditate and I pray. Those are things which I never thought that I would be doing. I guess the future is indeed filled with surprises huh? (:

When I heard Justin Bieber's "Pray", I fell in love with it immediately. It's my 2nd favourite song, ranked after FM Static's "Tonight". I always wished that I was capable of helping people, of saving lives. I suppose that is why I was adamant to have a career in the medical industry.

And so, I close my eyes and pray for the broken-hearted, I pray for the life not started, I pray for all the ones not breathing, I pray for all the souls in need.


One day, I'll be a somebody and I'll truly make a difference in this world.