Timmy Lai

June 17th, 2009. 9.00pm I remembered it was cloudy Wednesday evening and i was on my way to cell. My mate, Bernie, with rather mischievous eyes swing the door wide open for me. And told me that a beauty is visiting our cell. Well, as usual, I gave my mate the benefit of the doubt. "Thanks," I said sarcastically, as I gave him a pat on his back. "Don't mention!" he grunted as I walked towards the living room. The next 7 steps was a revelation. The moment I saw her, my world has stopped. All in an instant, and POOF! Like magic, and my heart suddenly swells in resonance before my eyes, It sings! Every sight of me turns Grey excepts her. Shes appears to be the only colored thing I see. (Man, how the butterflies stirred! How the butterflies stir even now as I write) I sat awkwardly, for about thirty seconds which felt like an eternity. She played with the hair behind her ear and smiled. She was wearing a Grey blouse, a matching shorts, and not to mention a ...

"I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid" (Gen. 3:10) I remember driving back from a futsal game one night, a friend and I were just sort of shooting the breeze about life and relationships and work. As the conversation deepened, he began to admit some of the struggle he was having. Then he came out with this confession: The truth is, Tim, I feel like I'm just faking my way through life...and that someday soon I'll be exposed as impostor." Wow, I'm surprised. This is a popular, successful guy who most people like the moment they meet him. He's bright, articulate, funny, and purpose driven. He's in a relationship with a beautiful women, has a great job, drives a new car, and basically living his dream. There is nothing on the outside that says, "going through loads of problem." But inside, it's another story. It always be. Truth to be told, most of us faking our way through life. We pick only those battles we are sure to win, only ...

In the memory of a friend loved by many - RIP Jeffrey Loh (1981 - 2004) "Timmy, it's all right to cry." I'd held it off all day, but the moment the coffin slid through the cremation chamber brought the biggest lump yet to my throat. It felt like I could have choked. But still I refused to cry. The arm around me grew tighter as I turned my face into the folds of my own coat. Under the other side, my mate James sobbed uncontrollably with huge heaves that shook his whole body. "Timmy, don't hold it all in" But I was going to hold it all in. All of it. I'd held it in for weeks, even though it had tried to escape many times. On the way to the crematorium it had threatened to break right through my chest, but I'd crossed my arms over my ribs to keep it imprisoned. He is one of my close mates in school, and whatever it was I was holding in, I wanted to keep it there. For myself I was frightened if I did as my other mates told me and let it out, ...

I was under no illusions that I'd ever be in the same league as my heroes, not least because, though I could hold a harmony, I would never be a proper singer, and most of my mates were already a far better player and songwriter. But surely the hours spent with knitted brow over the fretboard couldn't be said to be wasted, could they? Admittedly I'd earned decent cash from music over the years but all musicians hang on to the remote possibility that could change at any moment, simply because music industry here is so bleak and uncertain. That discovery lurks around the next corner. A good question, and one I'd been pondering. I didn't have an answer yet but what was certain was that, without anything else in my life, music was going to have to fill a big part of it, and that meant getting back to the flow. 'Aye, you're right, boy. It's just that sometimes I get so worried wondering what happen to you in KL and since your dad is not supporting the fa...

'Timmy, look at the state of you! come here and let's get you inside and sorted out." That's the great thing about mums and coming home. You need sorting out, other wise you wouldn't be back. They know you need sorting out or you wouldn't be back. You know they can't sort you out anymore and they know you know that, but there's still the illusion that they can. That they will. And whilst you haven't got the heart to tell them they won't, you've got even less heart to admit it to yourself. My mum reckoned she could tell a lot about a man from his hands too. My dad had spent years manufacturing chalks, so anyone with soft hands was a cut above in her book. I knew resistance was futile. My mother's obsession of knowing my life in KL was too deeply grounded to be shaken now. I placed my open heart at her disposal whilst she ran through her naggy mummy's love over and under like an super advanced chatty jukebox, fretting at the discov...

Leaving to metro KL by myself is quite obvious that i am far from my comfort zone... I never made a conscious decision to go home, it just kind of happened every time. I suppose it was simply that was nowhere else I could go except for my family. I phoned my mum to let her know I was coming back to Ipoh for a couple of days and of course she was thrilled. Since my dad rarely come home, the days had seemed that bit longer to her, the evenings that bit darker, the silences that bit deeper. I knew how she felt. My social life in KL had been generally full of the buzz, hung around church friends, football, teaching and playing music. I love my job here.. ..but most nights it ended with halfhearted strum of the guitar, sleepless nights and the suspicion that life was drifting by without notable achievements. It was harder for Mum, of course. She'd stayed on in the house, and which my brothers - Jacky, Kelvin and I had grown up. The 'Ria' Garden was a remarkable place on an ...