Calvin sets the standard . . .

. . . I aspire towards.

Hearting the Olympics



The Russian basketball team collapse on each other upon winning the bronze medal match against Argentina. Source



What is it about the Olympics, that grand spectacle that has us all enthralled? Why do professional atheletes, who earn so much out of this arena anyway, display such passion and heart when it comes to this tournament? Why is it that a team of full-grown macho basketball players collapse to the ground in a heap of tangled bodies - when they realised that the bronze medal is theirs? Why did (my) tears flow just reading about Mo Farah crossing the 5,000m finish line (winning his second gold medal), or just at the very sight of Oscar Pistorius, the double amputee 400m runner?



Mo Farah's priceless expression upon finishing with gold in the 5,000 m - his second. {Check out this Source for super funny Mo's Meme's)





Double-amputee Oscar Pistorius "The Bladerunner" awaits his 4 X 400m relay teammate. Source



Why did the Lee Chong Wei-Lin Dan badminton final have Malaysians in tears when LCW pushed the shuttle across the court line, handing Lin Dan the gold, again? And post-match, have what seemed to be the entire nation speak up on social media on the pride they felt in LCW, because although he lost, he fought his heart out - for the nation's first ever gold medal? (By the way, was that ever a badminton masterclass of a final, or what? A true showcase of the beauty and delicateness that is badminton). Why does a gold medal even matter to us?

In this age of cynism, of individuality and the servitude of one's self-interests above all else (read about the EPL transfer sagas and you will understand what I mean), why is the Olympics different?

It is once every four years that I cheer on the runners at the athletics, be entertained by the grace and artistry of rythimic gymnastics, puzzle over fencing (so fast that most of the time I am left wondering what just happenned), debate the judges' assesments on the diving competition (congratulations Pandalela), thoroughly enjoy the music and creativity on display at synchronised swimming (supercool stuff, and how in the world do those synchronised swimmers make it look so ridiculously easy), gawk at the swimsuit parade that is beach volleyball, and wonder why in the world would someone take up weightlifting, discus or the javelin (I mean, football or running I can understand), and practice at it again and again and again in anticipation of the Games?

And while I disagree with/despise so many things about this bloody country, this has never stopped me from passionately supporting my fellow countrymen. I can't explain exactly why. But I guess that's what makes the Olympics so special and why it has endured since Ancient Greece, through war, disasters and everything else. It is a celebration of the human physique, and many a time, of the human spirit and the wonders of friendly competition. It is a testament to how sport can bring people together, unite a nation, how it can be a common language that all of us can speak, no matter where you are from.



“Oscar is someone I respect.”
Kirani James of Grenada exchanges bibs with after James won the 400 m heat and Pistarius was subsequently eliminated. Source 





"Skill wins you medals, attitude wins you hearts."  ESPN commentator.
Dato' Lee, we salute you.



Snippets of Pulau Ketam

I wish I could tell you that this was a place where life goes by a little more slowly, that you could consider making the two-hour journey (an hour each in the car and ferry) from the city centre if you feel like an idyllic weekend getaway. Well, what I can tell you is that this is a thriving, hustling and bustling fishing town. You navigate creaky mangrove plank walkways, dodging bicycles (no motor vehicles here) and many a fellow visitor sticking out like a sore thumb in his Ray-bans, squeaky clean Tevas and DSLR camera). The whole place reeks of salt, fish and sweat. I kid you not.
We spent two hours on the journey there, two hours picking up rubbish (AK) and plastering motivational quotes at a vastly underfunded government school. Then we spent two hours at lunch, which was sublime to say the least - spanking fresh seafood (clams, prawns, crabs, fish, squid) cooked really well. All in all, a Sunday morning well spent.

I'll leave you with these shots.

This is how you navigate Pulau Ketam - on foot or bicycle

Students' artworks adorn the walls of the school

Pretty ironworks above a kindergarten doorway

Tao Temple window

The school walkway

A couple manning their oyster omelette stall

Wonder what they're looking at

A touch of luxe for breakfast

Freshly cured bacon and fried kampung eggs, both purchases from Ben's Independent Grocer's, a food mart unlike any other. Oh, and the eggs are topped with a generous sprinkle of Dean and Deluca's heady truffle salt, my only souvenir from Qatar.