Posted in Creative Writing Ink, poetry, Thoughts


I recall the old times
when soot and ash coloured our day
when passion strayed away
and memories were grey

Continue reading “Stained”

Posted in spm

United We Stand, Divided We Fall

Repost from my previous blog.
As submitted for the preliminary round of the Sunway-Oxbridge Essay Competition 2016. Advanced to finals and thankfully won Consolation for my category ๐Ÿ™‚

Please expand on this theme in 650 words or less.

โ€œUnited we stand, divided we fallโ€, so goes the old adage. This is the bond which holds communities, nations, entire civilisations together โ€“ unity. History has proved time and time again that unity is the key to the rise of great civilisations. On the contrary, a divided society will fall to its knees, tripped over by the uneven pace of humanity, participants in a three-legged race. Obviously, the strength of unity is great, and with great power comes great responsibility. As denizens of this community, we have to shoulder the weight of preserving unity to ensure the continuity of posterity.

Continue reading “United We Stand, Divided We Fall”

Posted in Creative Writing Ink, Uncategorized


She puts her finger to her lips, a gentle hush cascading in a fine spray of saliva. Silence ensues, but for a split second only. The chatter resumes, a gigantic wave crashing over the rocks of her bay.

She sighs, wondering what would seal the babbling mouths for the duration. One hour is a long time for the lips to cease their hovering, muttering, babbling existence. She continues her vigil, standing erect as she surveys the vicinity for more blabbermouths. Why won’t they listen? she wonders.

“Assembly is adjourned. Students, please return to your respective classes.” Finally, she thinks, leaving.

Another 100-word blurb, on the prefects on Catholic High ๐Ÿ™‚

Posted in Uncategorized

The Pessimist

Write a composition of about 350 words on the following topic:
Describe a person who hurt you.

Why do you hate him?
He hurt me, scarred me, tore me to pieces, left me to rot.
Who is he?
I will not say, will not tell, the past is the past, leave it be in the past.
Why now?
Pessimism is a disease, contagious, dangerous.
My pen my sword, I carve this creature on paper, bitter taste still lingering in my mouth.

Continue reading “The Pessimist”