Missing Home? Aw...
Journey to the NS Home Team chalet...what a long way...
spooky swing...
and shoes...
Pretty nice combination eh? the one below...
another nice one...something about these two...
there is really something between these two and apparently someone in pink is trying to look away...but hey, at least an uncle is admiring the scene...
Alright... and that's about all the photos... it's not really nice to show every single one of them... it just makes ppl bored, i guess. So I specially chose the more interesting ones... oh wait.. there's one which I'm pretty surprised about... take a look but please do not get the wrong idea... LOL
it looks pretty nice... as in if you put a dummy there and take a shot at the same position, it'll still be nice. i just like the perspective and how the background is arranged... the objects in the bg i mean.
Okay, enough about that trip... let's talk about my OBS experience...
Well, basically there are very, very physically demanding activities that over time "makes you tougher". It is really fun, though, I must say. Of course I got to know more friends, though I was pretty skeptical I would really make any before the course. It's just 5 days and I guess only such activities could bring people together to forge friendships.
There's trekking (the worst), kayaking, climbing, some group activities like reflections, jetty jumping... blah blah blah. These are just what everyone experiences in the camp but something unique that my watch (a group of 16 students) had experienced was the time spent with the trainer of the watch as well as the wonderful stories he shared (I don't know whether other trainers also tell this story, but at least my trainer told it at a watch-level). The 2 stories he shared are in one way or another, literally, related to KEYS... hm... interesting, isn't it? So here goes...
*The basic storyline is there, it's just that I'm telling it in my own words...including the title...lol*
The Birthday Present
The old man ambled slowly into his small and humble workshop. A dog-eared magazine sat on his callused palms nicely, its pages fading into a yellowish brown. His round, wooden glasses rested on his large and sharp nose as he browsed through the magazine, flipping the pages casually, one by one. He continued on for a while, till his son, Bayle, entered the room.
"Hey Dad, what are you reading... oh hold on a minute."It was a posh, red sports car, with four very big wheels and stylish curves at its rear. "Wow, take a look at this...," Bayle breathed, as his saucer-like eyes gleamed in fascination.
The old man raised his thick and grey eyebrows, which then furrowed as he struggled to see what his son was talking about.
"It looks pretty nice...do you like it?" the old man asked, he turned his gaze to his son.
"This is everyone's dream car, dad," Bayle's eyes were glued onto the page.
"I'll get one for you then. It will be your birthday gift for your 21st birthday," the old man spoke, as if he was not at all, just an unremarkable man who was working in a town very few people knew.
"Ah dad... it's okay," Bayle looked away, smiling wryly at the window, heaving a deep sigh.
"Hey boy, look at me. I'm serious about getting you that car and I won't go back on my word," the old man rested his hands on his son's shoulders and looked straight into his son's eyes.
"Thank you so, so much, dad...I'll be so looking forward to my 21st birthday!"
(2 years later...)
It was Bayle's 21st birthday. Just like any other dinners on Bayle's birthday, on the table lay two plates of rice and two dishes of fried vegetables. However this year, though, there was a special addition - 2 glasses of dark purple wine.
"Tuck in, son," the old man smiled brightly at his son, allowing his wrinkles to surface.
"You too, dad."
And both father and son started eating. At the end of the meal, the old man upon noticing his sons's eagerness, brought out a brown, hard-cover book, with four big, golden words printed on its cover "The Book of Faith".
"This is for you, son, take it, and may you live a meaningful, honest and happy life," the old man stretched out his frail, skinny hands to his son, with the book in his hands.
Bayle looked at the book and tears started welling up his eyes.
"You said you'd keep your word."
Without another word, Bayle stormed out of the workshop.
The old man's stood for a while, his smile dying off.
Bayle never returned.
(Ten years later...)
A handsome man in his early thirties opened the door. It was the day after his father passed away. He didn't even say his last goodbyes.
Bayle walked around the room, occassionally touching the objects that laid there as it is before he left, as they brought back vague, scattered memories. Guilt was overwhelming him as he reflected his foolish actions and thoughts. His father would never buy him a car. How could he be so naive? The family was too poor to afford one, Bayle knew it then.
Bayle soon approached his father's bed. It was neat and tidy, like it was 10 years ago, though the bed sheet's colour had faded quite a bit. Bayle recalled his father accompanying him to sleep when the thunder roared and the lightning flashed, the happy times when he jumped on the bed in joy as his father bought him a candy from the shop near by, the times when he secretly witnessed his father crying silently on the bed, staring out of the window...
Beside the bed was a drawer which the old man kept his personal belongings. Bayle opened the first drawer, only to find the very same brown book with the 4 words printed large and clear "The Book of Faith". It was the first time he was touching it, and flipping it, as a piece of paper slipped out of the first page...
"My beloved Son,
Dad is so happy that you're 21 years old now. You are a big young man, finally. I know my great son can achieve great things and become very successful next time. However, it is important for you to know that one must never neglect his faith, as it is his faith which gives his spirit the correct directions and hence, the path to success. At the very middle of this book lies the key to the car you dearly wanted. With this present, I hope you can expand your reach to get to know better people, to get to do things, that you've never accomplished in your life. I wish you all the best in your life and remember, dad always love you, no matter where you are, who you've become...
Love,
Dad"
Bayle continued flipping the pages as uncontrollable tears soaked dotted the pages of the book. And there, right in the middle of the book, lay a silver key, with a label, "Your dream car."
The End.
Alright.... I know it's seems to be very quickly written (I don't really check for grammatical and spelling errors in my blog) but well, you just get the idea ok?
Here goes the next story...
The Last House
A pile of soaked pieces of wood sat at a corner of the boat. All around the floor were scraps of wood, and the amount gradually increased towards the middle of the boat. There sat a man, in his middle 20s, diligently carving a dark brown log, bring it into life with his steady hands and fascinating talent.
At the other corner of the boat, on the other hand, there were a whole diversity of objects - wooden stools, statues, abstract art pieces - all of which were masterpieces. On a particular chair, which Gry had just completed, were delicate swirls running around and flowery patterns complementing them. Different shades of brown enveloped the entire chair. A block of useless, rotten wood had become a fine masterpiece.
But the price such things fetched weren't very high. Just one of those products by Gry could only provide him with a simple meal of rice and vegetables. It would be rare for him to buy anything more than this for a meal.
Gry's life carried on like that for years.
But one day, as he made his daily trip to the flea market near the capital, a man came to him to ask about the price of a statue of a lady made out of the usual material that Gry used to make any other products. It was Gry's very first time to have someone approaching him for his work.
"Good afternoon. Can I know how much is the wooden statue over there?" the man asked, pointing at his desired object.
Gry followed the man's index finger to the statue which he had completed a few days ago. He smiled, then answered politely, "20 rupees, sir".
"Wow, that's..."
"Too expensive sir? I could give you a discount." Gry didn't want to lose such a customer who seemed to have great interest in buying one of his products.
"No, no. It's really cheap... you have great talent, sir. I own a construction company which build houses. I don't think you won't be able to realise your true potential living such a life. Would you be able to join my company and help me build wonderful houses?"
"Oh no, sir, I don't think I'm up to it."
"I believe in you. Just a nod of approval from you and you would become one of my employee. What do you say, sir?"
"Well, if you have so much faith in me then... I'll be really glad to join you!"
The two men shaked hands and arranged for a meeting a few days later.
Gry had officially joined the ABS construction company.
From then on, Gry lived a much better life, with many people respecting and recognising his talent. Without fail, Gry would deliver firm and beautiful houses using materials of the best quality. The company prospered and Gry and the man who saw such potential in him became good friends.
20 years passed, and Gry thought that it was time to retire. Gry approached the man and made his request to retire.
"You want to retire... I think it's about time too, though we really, really want you to stay. But I have one last project for you, before you retire..." the man said.
Gry wasn't happy. He had worked hard for the company for 20 years and yet, he could not have his first and last request to be approved.
Nonetheless, Gry accomplised the project and built a house in a record-breaking time, almost half the time he used to built the houses of the same size during his entire career as a builder. He chose materials of mediocre standard and didn't put much effort into the building of the house. The house wasn't lousy, or ugly, but it was Gry's worst house ever built.
Gry passed the key for the house to the man. The man took the key, smiled, and then pushed the key back into Gry's hands.
Gry froze for a while. Then, a tear streaked down his left cheek.
The End.
That's all for now... till next time!
checking the bus no.
