Half a Century

Half a century, how long it sounds.

A wealth of knowledge,

a treasure cove of experience.

Yet unspoken mindsets..

Unthought of for opportunities

for one should have gotten them already.

Unthought of for awards

for one should be adorned enough of the one.

Unthought of as game changers,

for what game can one change after half a century?

With Skillsfuture opportunities and other such chances,

new horizons open, training programmes available.

Yet minds must open too,

Or there be no real change.

Unite, brothers and sisters of half a century or more!

Learn, open the door to new horizons,

Plug in and up our skills!

Keep active, and keep dementia at bay!

Contributed to AutumnLife.SG  (akan datang)

The Emperor's Clothes

The Emperor's clothes,
how fine they are, how glorious and extravagant.
And how detailed they are, every stitch, every piece of embroidery.

Then there are those infamous new clothes ...

One wonders what the Emperor saw.
Or did he see at all?
Or could he make sense of the "new clothes" by the devious spin-master tailor?

When genuine new clothes are made,
is he seeing the detailed stitch for the whole magnificant piece?
(as in see the tree for the woods)

The page boy thinks so.  The newly arrived page boy.
We're poring over each detailed stitch.
And missing the whole glorious picture of the magnificant new clothes...

The Sun heaves a quiet sigh, high above the castle and the kingdom.

Politically incorrect thoughts

Ever so often one feels like saying this:

Some people just illicit this thought.
A politically incorrect thought. Slap the brain for thinking this!
HR experts says we must nurture.
Did we give clear instructions? Did we teach?
(I suppose the HR experts mean those who are assessed to not have any iota of leadership.)
So perish the thought, we say!

But when one sees information carelessly put together,
information not updated,
inconsistent listings,
decisions not reflected,
things not done,
no pulling together for a consistent whole that makes sense ...

... one feels like adding "sloppy" to it.

A much-admired idol once said, close to two decades ago,
that sloppiness in work reflect sloppiness in mind.
Indeed.

I might as well do it all, 

all by myself.

The Haughty Tart

The little tart, small but hot.
Crispy on the outside, hollow in the inside.
Smooth on the surface, but oh so incomplete.

The little tart, thus blessed, strutted around the pantry.
The Haughty Tart, it is called.

The Haughty Tart, sweet as pie to the King and Queen,
attracting their favour, undivided and relentless.

The Haughty Tart, inflated with attention, haughtier than ever,
condescending to those around her,
scolding at will.
The other pastry in the pantry, even senior pastries,
shied away.

That's the way of the pantry
- the pretty ones attract the favour and the accolades.
Even when they are hollow inside.

From Snow White to Cinderella

Snow White, fair and kind.
A good cook too, learning many a recipe from Pinterest.
Cooking up a storm for the seven little dwarfs,
and the Prince too, of course.

One day, the Prince brought back a chef,
French-trained and Michelin-certified.
Snow White, and her home-cooked food, was "demoted".

In anger, Snow White left the forest,
and sought refuge in the mountain of rising sun.
Snow White worked hard, day and night, at the farm,
trying to offer one-stop service.
From fresh produce to the entire complete value meal
- soup, main course, dessert, coffee or tea.
Bringing her experience and knowledge from the forest,
Snow White worked hard to pick out the best herbs for the complete value meal.

At the mountain of the rising sun,
Snow White learned to look after the farmland too,
from the drains to the footpaths, from the running water to the streams and brooks.
As time went by, Snow White became less and less white,
more and more cream.
More and more like Cinderella sitting next to the cinders of the fireside.

The King and Queen, alas, did not value the complete value meal
with its organic herbs and organic meat.
They, regrettably, preferred the fried stuff of next-door Kentucky valley
- hard, loud and in-your-face.
And tried to teach her how to suck eggs from the farm
- half-cooked, like lava eggs.

In the dead of the night, Cinderella-Snow White stared into the fireside,
remembering the days with the seven dwarfs (and the Prince, in that order)...

altruism needed

Self-pity is safely locked away in its box.
Or so one thinks.
At times, the self-pity demon wakes from its slumber,
and tries to escape.
Like when others viewed as not as deserving, get awards.
Self-pity rears its head, reminding oneself of the "sacrifices"
- the standing by and not taking leave
while others in the team merrily jetset,
regardless of the inquiry on hand ...

One would do well to remember our founding father and his mission.
http://www.straitstimes.com/singapore/missing-papa-on-aug-9

"... to advance Singapore for the sake of Singaporeans, and to do this by action, not just by symbolism.

Symbolism sometimes causes us to forget about doing what is right. ..."

Symbolism - what is it compared to being steadfast and one's conscience of good work done.

The Monster

The monster in the village,
disguised as a benevolent village head,
disbursing funds,
using money power as tool for control.

Bow and meekly agree,
when the monster asks ever gently.
When it holds a party,
everyone must submit and do as bidded,
whether willing or not.
Everyone is supposed to fall at the feet
of the monster, grateful to be thought of.
All must have whole of village mindset.
Or be an outcast.

Strong leaders we need
to avoid being pulled into the spiral of groupthink,
and be strong enough to say "NO".

Or it'd just be "Yes, Monster" all the time,
even when one's heart says "NO".

The Blacksmith

The blacksmith who shoes the horses,
the horses that go to battle and war.

The blacksmith, ever cheery,
with empty-headed smiles.
He hammers away, as he shoes,
singing the latest pop songs.

An important mission comes up.
The General orders the army of horses be ready.

The blacksmith shoes the horses,
one after another,
singing in his usual empty-headed way.

As the last horse is shoed,
the army almost ready to set off,
the last horseshoe is left.
But it can't be put on,
because there aren't enough nails!

And so the mission failed.
For lack of a horse,
for lack of a horseshoe,
for lack of a nail.
Which the blacksmith didn't anticipate and prepare.

Simple things, so simple, yet so difficult.
Brains, in everyone, yet not in everyone.
Such a pain, working with such blacksmiths.

The cycle of challenges

The pager vibrated incessantly ...
... back then in 2001.
And throughout the year after.
Intense 24/7 work as plots were uncovered
and culprits detained.
Calls from all, local and foreign,
each more urgent than the last.
Memories of an alert on a CNY holiday,
a news release on the same day.
From one high point to another ...
each threshold higher than the last.
Then off to another challenging area to build. ... and another.

A comment from outside about end of an era.
Another (from outside) about being the go-to person ...
Unexpected kind comments.

Now 2015, another major revelation,
thanks to the hard work of strong teams
that have remained steadfast and mostly withstood the test of time.
Deja vu.

An occasional urge to poke one's nose in ...
but it's a different time, a different team
with different preferences and approaches.

One cycle of challenges one has ridden.
Time to leave others to ride theirs.

The True Master

Tis a session when the Master held court,
without arrogantly doing so.
Presentation after presentation,
he listened intently and patiently, in a good natured way.
At the end of each,
he spoke.
Pearls of wisdom, oh so strategic,
in the true meaning of the word.
No grandstanding, no condescending direction.
Good advice and direction, visionary and practical.
Such had been missing all these years,
over at our team.
Care at the latter over the structure called "framework".
The team's changed since then of course, with global vision and all.

The true masters, soon they would phase out.
A loss to those who had been inspired by them,
a loss to the generations who didn't get to work for them.