The Secret of Life. Awareness of Death.

 The Awareness of Death is the Secret of Life. It’s the ultimate twist.

Photo by Ksenia Makagonova on Unsplash

Teacher death met up with us the minute we were born, and is by our side every moment of our life. What death has to teach us is direct and to the point. It is profound but intimate. Death is a full stop. It interrupts the delusions and habits of thought that entrap us in small-mindedness. It is an affront to ego.

Death is a fact. Our challenge is to figure out how to deal with it, because it is never a good plan to struggle against or deny reality. The more we struggle against death, the more resentment we have and the more we suffer. We take a painful situation and through our struggles add a whole new layer of pain to it.

We cannot avoid death, but we can change how we relate to it. We can take death as a teacher and see what we can learn from it.

By means of meditation and by developing an ongoing awareness of death, we can change our relationship with death and thereby change our relationship with life. We can see that death is not just something that pops up at the end of life, but is inseparably linked with our life moment to moment, from the beginning to the end.  We can see that death is not just a final teacher. It is available to teach us here and now.

When we contemplate in this way, our many schemes for getting around the reality of death, such as coming up with interpretations to make it more palatable, are exposed one by one and demolished. Death is the great interrupter, unreasonable and nonnegotiable. No amount of cleverness will make it otherwise.

Contemplating death is not an easy practice. It is not merely conceptual. It stirs things up. It evokes emotions of love, sorrow, fear, and longing. It brings up anger, disappointment, regret, and groundlessness. How tender it is to reflect on the many losses we have experienced and will experience in the future. How poignant it is to reflect on life’s fleeting quality.

You could say that death is your most intimate partner. It is with you all the time, completely interwoven into your daily activities. Since that is the case, wouldn’t it be worthwhile to make a relationship with it?

Contemplative practice challenges us to look deeply into our thoughts and beliefs, our fantasies and presumptions, and our hopes and fears. It challenges us to separate what we have been told from what we ourselves think and experience. We have all kinds of thoughts about what happens when we die and how we and others should relate with death, but through meditation we learn to recognize thoughts as thoughts. We learn not to mistake these thoughts and ideas about death for direct knowledge or experience. We learn not to believe everything we think or everything we have been told.

We can begin our exploration right where we are. We have already been born, we are alive, and we have not yet died. Now what? We might connect to our life in terms of a story or a history. For instance, we were born in such and such a time and place, we did this and that, and we have a particular label and identity. But that story is always changing and in process; it is not all that reliable. However, when our story is combined with a physical body, we seem to have something more solid, a complete package. We have something to hang onto and defend. We have something that can be taken away.

But what do we have to hang onto, really? Our story is not that solid. It is always being revised and rewritten. Likewise, our body is not one solid continuous thing. It too is always changing. If you look for the one body that is you, you cannot find it.

The closer you look, the less solid this whole thing seems. When we investigate our actual experience, here and now, moment by moment, we see how fleeting and dynamic it is. As soon as we notice a thought, feeling, or sensation, it has already happened. Poof! It is the same with the act of noticing. Poof! Gone! And the noticer, the one who is noticing, is nowhere to be found. Poof! When we contemplate in this way, we begin to suspect that this life is not all that solid—that we are not all that solid.

The more solidly we construct ourselves, and the more rigidly we identify with this construct, the more we have to defend and the more we have to fear. Looking at death in terms of such subtle underlying patterns may seem inconsequential, but it is not.

When we drop the battlefield approach—that life and death are enemies—we become open to an entirely new way of viewing things. Instead of this vs. that, us vs. them, something much more inspiring can take place. Experiences can arise freshly because they are immediately let go. Because they are dropped as soon as they arise, there is nothing to hold onto and nothing to lose.  There is no battlefield, no winner and loser, no good guy and bad guy.

Simple formless meditation is a very powerful tool for relaxing this pattern of holding and defending. Working with death through our awareness of momentary arisings and dissolvings is a profound practice. It shows us that the life–death boundary is an ongoing and quite ordinary experience, and that this unsettling meeting point colors all that we do. If we can become more grounded at this level, we can become more open to what death has to teach us altogether.

Although death is an ongoing reality, there are times when it hits us particularly hard. It may be when we have a health scare or a near accident. At such times, we really wake up to the presence of death, and its teachings come through loud and clear. The heart pounds, the senses are heightened, and we feel extra alive. There is a stillness, as though time had stopped.

Maintaining an awareness of death makes life more vivid. In the light of death, petty concerns fall away and our usual preoccupations become meaningless. It is as though clouds of dust that have covered over something shiny and vivid have been blown away, and we are left with something raw, immediate, and beautiful. We have insight into what matters and what does not.

Awareness of death—hearing its teaching—cuts through the subtle clinging at the core of our experience. It cuts through our self-clinging and our clinging to others. This may sound harsh, but all that clinging has not really helped us or anyone else. Our clinging to others may have the appearance of real caring, but it is based on fear and an attempt to freeze and control life. It is a way of tuning out death and pulling back from the intensity of life. But if we develop more ease with our own impermanence and struggles with death, we can be more understanding of others and their struggles. We can connect with one another with greater genuineness and warmth.

Death turns out to be the teacher who releases us from fear. It’s the teacher that opens our hearts to a more free-flowing love and appreciation for life and one another. When we get stuck in self-importance and earnestness, death steps in. When we get caught in self-pity, death steps in. When we become complacent and take things for granted, death steps in.

Death spurs us forward with a sense of urgency and puts our preoccupations in perspective. Death lightens our clinging and mocks our pretensions. 

Death wakes us up. It is our most reliable teacher and most constant companion.

~ Judy Leif

~  In Loving Memory of Brother JOHNNY GAN (10 Jan 1948 - 14 Jan 2026) ~ 

PY, JG, PG

One week after my brother was laid to rest, I decided to post a very well written piece on Life and Death by Judy Leif to accompany this 'eulogy' of sorts. 

I got to know of my step-brother from a very young age- 5 or 6 I believe. With an age gap of 10 years, we weren't exactly best of friends. In fact it was quite the opposite. He often saw me as a threat to his status of No. 1 son as I was the legitimate son born out of wedlock while he was legally adopted. There were times when I felt his anger and wrath in the thick of passion in hockey practice or playing childhood games. He would erupt in violent verbal threats warning me to beware or to watch-out. I felt his misplaced animosity as strange as I've often wondered how little old me could be a threat to my big brother. I had no interest in being No.1 son. So I took all of his occasional jibes lightly but I was always respectful except when I would secretly and silently 'borrow' his Yamaha 125cc motorcycle for fun runs in the countryside sans helmet or license. Although he knew what I was doing with his bike, he often turned a blind eye and let me have my fun. That was how I fell in love with motorcycle riding and big bike ownership to this day.

Johnny was a solidly competent field hockey fullback who played for school, district and state. He inspired all of us to play the sport as family tradition. I initially played the position of full-back because of him although later in my career, I moved up to play attacking half. I didn't have the bulk to be a mountain of a full back like him. I was to play quick and nimble roles in attack and defence and I thoroughly enjoyed it. 

"He took us butterfly hunting while we were barely knee-high to a grasshopper."

One other gift he gave to us was the beautiful exposure to nature in the rainforest and hills that surrounded our homes. He took us butterfly hunting while we were barely knee-high to a grasshopper. The jungle paths, streams and waterfalls that we traversed for hours were terrifying at first but became beautifully engrained in us as we grew up appreciating nature and her beauty. Although I never acquired the deft skill of catching many butterflies nor putting them to sleep with formaldehyde or pinning the beautiful specimens into beautiful glass-frames of various shapes and sizes for sale to collectors in the British expatriate community, I got to go on unforgettable jungle adventures. 

Johnny was also one of the most hard-working people I know. Both physically and mentally. 

Apart from his sportsmanship, he was a hardworking ace student in the Sciences. I remember the day he was refused an engineering place in UKM despite several attempts, he was heart-broken. 

He was a human dynamo when it came to performing household chores and climbing trees. He had several skills and methods devised to clear mountain loads of chores with ease. We of course struggled to keep up with chores of raking leaves, cutting grass, trimming the hedges or feeding the dogs and poultry. All of which were performed meticulously and diligently by my big brother. He never belittled or berated us for failing at anything he could do when we fell short. We were short compared to him in the first place. 

Perhaps the best memory I have of my big brother's role in my life was the fact that he stood by my family and I, when we were enduring a grievous period of caring for Jon when he fell ill. Johnny and his family were constantly present to lend us unconditional support. I remember clearly, one night when Jon was lying in bed with no improvement, our family was crestfallen watching our son helplessly wasting away and I was clearly buckling under the weight of worry and anguish with no hope in sight. I slipped away silently to the balcony to be alone with my grief. Johnny noticed and came out to comfort me. For the first time, that night I cried like a baby comforted by my brother, his hand on my shoulder. I never felt so understood and loved by my brother as I did then. 

As I stood over his casket on the first day of his wake, all the thoughts and feelings suddenly came flooding back and I bawled my eyes out in his presence once again. Once again he gave me permission to grieve. Deeply.

Thank you dear brother Johnny. I love you and I will miss you dearly.

Farewell for now.

A Letter to Zane.

Happy (belated) 33rd Birthday son. 

                                                                         "This is US"

Dear Zane,

I apologise for posting this late but it was intentional as I had gone for a 10-day Vipassana Meditation Retreat somewhere in the rainforests of Pahang. Those ten days of physical and digital detox with no devices, no books, no writing, no talking, started on 15 Oct. ended on the 26th. I have had a most amazing, life changing experience, uplifting my sanity many notches and it is on this note that I would like to address you. 

You know son, over the years, I have been watching you in silent admiration, rooting for you, celebrating with you, delighting in your successes and conquests. I am so proud of what I have seen in your achievements thus far. The more I see the joy on your face and in your demeanor, the more I am happy to be out of the orbit of your life. After all, I have consoled myself that, most of all I have to impart to you as father to son, I have already done so, for better or for worse. The rest was up to you and you have done well. And that is just the beginning. 

Remember to play the long game, anyone can start but it takes commitment and endurance to succeed. But then you already know that-it's etched into your arm as your first tattoo. I’m not about to give you advice and neither did my father give me any advice (although I wished he had) but all I want to say is; spend some quiet time (start with 10 mins) with yourself in silence and solitude everyday. That’s all. 

Happy Birthday dude. 

Be Well. Be Happy. 

With love;

Papa xx

A Letter to Summer

HB Light & Joy.

Not too long ago in the last century.

Astride the factory racer- Ducati Desmosedici 999

At the Istana for Matah Ati. 

Clubbing at 21 (with Parents)

Malaysian Icon.

A Ballerina fr. KL wins 1st Prize in Barcelona.

Celebrating AMDA Scholarship

                                                                                  

To New York City.

 


  

                                                Prep & First Day- Enrolment & Registration. 

                                                              Warming up a chilly Times Sq.    

NYC Brands

NYC Brats

Dear Summer,

All offsprings are gems and crowning glory of our lives. 

Our family's blessings came in delightful bundles of joy in quick succession. The ending of the twentieth century brought us great bounty and gifts from the divine.

Being the youngest and a precious baby girl at that, you came with special blessings right from the day you were born. 

" To be a constant source of light & joy for all of us completing the circle that would bind us all together forever." 

It’s been three decades since and I think I know that you’re still the constant source of light and joy for the family. And I. 

I can’t imagine how you look right now but I surmise you look no different from when you were 21? And you will forever be 21 in my eyes and in my heart. That was the day when I saw how you’ve grown into a confident, capable, independent, and compassionate young woman on your 21st birthday party. 

It is one of the most memorable moments in my life. Seeing how you so maturely gave-in to your uncontrollably ‘proud’ father (who insisted on a blindfold gambit) & then you nicely wrapped it up in a poised delivery of your birthday speech. Everyone present was convinced you had come of age then. Especially me. 

Along with all the many birthdays we celebrated with you and all the birthdays we celebrated for Jon, Zane and Mum. I’m glad I had my fair share of precious & beautiful memories of and with you, on your birthdays as well as your brothers and mother. I must say that I truly enjoyed fatherhood.  It was more than I could ever wish for, but birthdays are just that, another excuse to celebrate this ephemeral life and if for any reason that we are unable to meet again, remember to celebrate life every chance you get, I would have no regrets, I have had many beautiful & precious memories of you, with you as well as the whole family to last several lifetimes & beyond. 

I just want to wish you a Happy Birthday filled with happiness and wellness always. 

I celebrate you each time I think of you. Always light & joy. 

With Love;

Pxxa

Mid-Year Stock Take - Letter to Jon at 35

Mushroom cloud over Nagasaki 9 Aug.1945

 

Dear Jon,

Here we are, just breaching the second half of the 25th year of the 21st century. Also breaching the 35th year of your birth to your departure on August 9th. 

Admittedly, I have discovered more things about today as time progresses. It's perhaps of our fixation on birthdays that we overlook departure days. It has taken me nineteen years to realise more facts about August 9;

Apart from being Singapore's national day, and that it's exactly two weeks or 15 days after your birthday, 

it was also the devastation of Nagasaki when the US dropped a second nuclear bomb to unofficially and brutally end the war.

 It’s been a year since I last shared endings and beginnings with you. It was the beginning of the 2024 Paris Olympics ending around your departure date leaving the world relatively safe and peaceful. 

Fast forward one year, this post is a sort of report card of where the human race is at. 

1. The human race has never been so comfortable, peaceful and empowered in their daily lives. 

2. Things could get worse. 

3. Things could get really bad. 

We live in a material world. We do all that matters in search of better lives chasing dreams in a society that has provided the best in healthcare, food, living conveniences, economic and technological advances are unprecedented yet we’re on the verge of self- destruction. 

There is a serious trust deficit growing amongst us since the end of the cold war. From relationships to families, communities and nations. Most people in the civilised world are living ultra comfortable lives yet not happier but more anxious desiring more of everything material that we think will make us happier. Be it entertainment, food, sex, possessions or anything that provides distractions from ourselves. 

The endless scrolling of screens be it the mobile devices as an extension of our hands or the large screens as extensions of our living rooms, searching for news and useless information so we can feel-better. That’s not what happiness looks like.

As if not serious enough, we are heralding the dawn of Ai, arguably mankind's greatest technological achievement, coming into the mix. Although the possibilities are positively game changing, the dangers of misuse by bad actors using Ai to plot world domination, loom ominous. 

Not withstanding Ai, the madness is already upon us. Israel is carrying out a systemic genocide on the Palestinians since October 2023. As if mad with bloodlust they have started wars with Iran, Syria, Lebanon and Yemen with the aid of their lackey the US and no end in sight.. 

It is a slow and painful genocide in Palestine. The Israelis are deliberately starving women & children and mindless wars are being waged in the Middle East that could escalate into another nuclear third world war. 

One would think that after Hitler’s Germany, Mussolini’s Italy & the Japanese defeat in the Second World War would have taught us the futility of war but apparently not. It has been exactly 80 years since the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were nuked by the US ending the war but more wars are being waged around the world today instigated or led by the US. 

Isn’t it ironic, that the liberators of the free world from the horrors of the Second World War has been the sole peddler of wars ever since? It seems that the most powerful nation on earth is hell bent on destroying it. America has been entrusted to lead and police the world and they have done so with impunity. The age old adage still rings true; 'Who is going to police the police?'

These realities come to light when Donald Trump won a second term in the White House. A convicted felon managed to win a landslide victory beating the democrats whose last term was disastrous even irresponsible. Democrats or Republicans, America's politics have, from the onset, been divisive- "Either you're on my side or you're against me." This is nothing new as Americans have subscribed even invented this form of 'game theory' for decades against it's own people as well as the rest of the world. The world's largest human lab has in turn, turned the world into it's own human lab- bringing it's own ideology of governance or justice to all, inflicting chaos and destruction everywhere they choose. The only diplomacy they know is through force or coercion. Donald Trump is no different from his predecessors. 

"When all you have is a hammer, every challenge you face becomes a nail to be hammered out."

The only difference is that Trump is not a career politician but a 'businessman' and hopefully he can begin to see that business can only be done with mutual transfer of value benefitting both sides leading to a multi-lateral world, not one of domination by a facist regime. In fact, America is known to be a plutocracy (ruled by the rich 1%) or even kleptocracy (ruled by thieves) and the only reason they can be that is that they wield the biggest hammer. 

However, with the inevitable rise of China after a century of humiliation, there is a new world leader in the making. Compared to four thousand years of civilisation, it took only a century of humiliation to put order to the chaos largely brought upon themselves, tranquilised by the comforts of the spoils of internal warfare and imperial rule handed down through the dynasties. Starting with the end of the Qing Dynasty, China bade farewell to it's last emperor Puyi and the Chinese Communist Party won complete victory in the Chinese Civil War and the People's Republic of China was founded in August 1950. 

So in a sort of a roundabout way, I have briefly but more importantly recounted the journey and establishment of a world power worthy and capable of standing up to the US in the delicate balance of power as to who holds the bigger hammer, be it in military strength or Ai advancement to rule the world. 

I often wonder what we wouldn't talk about son.

Happy 35th Birthday Jon.

Qing Ming 2025

 Qing Ming Weekend in Tampin & Johol.

The Qingming Festival by the Riverside, is a long, painted scroll 528 cm long and 24.8 cm wide, which portrays street scenes of Bianjing (today's Kaifeng City, Henan Province), the capital of the Northern Song Dynasty (960-1127).The work was created by Zhang Zeduan, a native of Shandong Province who studied painting in his early years in Bianjing.

It was fun from the very onset when Kelvin picked me up, 'chauffeur-driving' his parents sitting like The King & Queen at the backseat of his pickup truck. I gave a big hug to big brother Johnny seated at the back looking cool in sunglasses, framing a red and healthy face. 

“He’s skinny isn’t he?” said Karen looking radiantly happy & concerned at the same time. 

"He looks healthy" I said, and climbed into the front passenger seat and gave Kelvin a hearty handshake having not seen him for over a year. I was dying to catch up with this awesome nephew of mine. And we have the entire road trip to share & catch up with everyone. 

Traffic going south on the PLUS highway was unusually heavy for a Sunday afternoon.

Thankfully I had Kelvin to keep me entertained with his travel stories in the West. Johnny & Karen were as quiet a snoring mice. With intermittent rain, traffic got a lot lighter after Seremban and we reached Woon Estate just before 6pm. We were warmly welcomed by an anxious and impatient nephew in the form of Danny who was either very happy or very hungry. 

Being the filial and responsible nephew, Danny was visibly happy to see us and promptly ushered us to the dinner table, where a feast was laid out that looked like a CNY reunion dinner spread. How fitting it was as neither of us have spent a CNY reunion together for way too long. This was exactly May Sia’s sentiments. She has taken some pains to cook us our favourites-stewed pork leg, chicken curry, sambal petai, an assortment of sautéed green vegetables & legumes (mysteriously missing were sauteed cabbage) topped off with two-types of rice- white or purple yam. Yummy to both!

When Darren, Danny’s son arrived with girlfriend Emily, everyone was forced to sit and dig into dinner even though it was only just past 6pm. Who eats dinner at 6pm? I thought. Perhaps rednecks Chinese? Yup that would be us! Middle class workers, farmers/landowners. With a touch of baba/nyonya aristocracy

Everyone enjoyed the delicious dinner accompanied by a bowl of black bean pork ribs soup each. Johnny especially had a good time & a big appetite shovelling food into his frail frame. I had one helping of yam rice and two helpings of white rice enjoyed leisurely. It was a lovely familial communion over traditional family fare cooked with love. Thank you May Sia. Dessert came in the form of very sweet passion fruit like no other we have tasted. Danny claims it’s from his farm. It’s really sweet. We sat chatting way past dinner. 

The time is 10.40pm. Some people are hungry again. Everyone leaves for town to have supper of roti canai, satay and teh tarek except me, I was too stuffed so I sit out to enjoy the solitude of the town I was born in and the hood I was raised in till I left home. It felt exactly like how it was when I was a teenager growing up. It’s been over half a century yet the environment is still, quiet, serene and peaceful. The gentle breeze & fresh air felt comforting. This is home. I felt good. At peace. 

Then the food horde returned and went straight to bed. Danny & I sat chatting & listening to music till late under the newly renovated high-ceiling patio that looked like a spacious dining hall cum living room. Raising the roof really does raise the ceiling and the standard of living. It improves air flow, encourages upward glances and contemplation.

Monday morning. Most of us were up just after 7am to be greeted by Johnny’s deep chattering voice and a morning downpour. We sat chatting over coffee while waiting for the rain to clear so we could enjoy a hearty Tampin breakfast promised by Danny. As the rain subsided, we were brought to Mani’s place, an Indian restaurant on a side street behind the big market. All six of us ate to our hearts content, notably Johnny who ordered & ate everything up. Mani does serve very good Indian breakfast or even lunch. The bill was RM37 happily paid by Danny who said he saved spending more had we gone to the fishball laksa originally planned. With the rain down to a drizzle, we set out for Johol for tomb sweeping. Just the 3 of us. An uncle-me and two nephews-Kelvin & Danny. As we drove off, the stock market had just opened, being a Monday following Trump’s Liberation Day on April 2. Danny lamented on the quickly crashing stock markets while fulfilling orders from his clients on his mobile device conducting business as usual in his truck. He turned to us smiling as he announced he had already recouped the cost of our breakfast. 

 

It was drizzling as we arrived at the foot of the cemetery. The fitter and younger men reached Papa & Abu’s grave effortlessly while Danny huffed & puffed his way slowly up the steep hill. 

Since it rained all night, coupled with the fact that we missed last year’s Ching Meng, there was quite a lot of debris to clear which was, with some effort executed by 3 able-bodied men. The big tree under which our parents rested has grown even bigger spreading her canopy over a wider area of the grave providing us a natural cover from the rain. It was a picturesque setting atop the hill, worthy of a Chinese painting. 

After clearing most of the debris we performed the rituals and prayers with all the necessary paraphernalia including counterfeit US currency, to the latest iphones. After burning the offerings, candles & joss sticks we sat with our parents for a while admiring their clear and unblemished faces adorning the tombstone, smiling back at us while a troop of monkeys foraged in nearby trees. This spot hasn’t changed much in almost 40 years. The view of the green valley below remains unspoilt. This is good Feng Shui I surmised. Looking around at graves populating the hill, a popular saying comes to mind; ‘You can take a Chinese out of China but you can’t take China out of the Chinese.’ Against the backdrop of the current economic crisis, China seems to be at the center of it. 

On the way back we paid a visit to our crumbling ancestral home built by grandfather Gan Swee in 1919, then the Kapitan China of Johol during her glory days. We entered the house to retrieve a few books and files from my last residence here during Covid, minding our startup herbal farm for over 2 years. Our second uncle’s youngest son, Ah Chai, has taken abode here and is currently caretaker. He looks well fed & healthy. Said a brief hello and a quick goodbye to our young cousin and left, hoping to return again soon.

 

We got back to Woon Estate by early afternoon, cleaned up, packed up and left for lunch in Tampin town. Danny promised us the best fried chicken in town situated near Ambank. We arrived to find it closed on Mondays. We unanimously agreed to opt for Long Kang Mee. It was closed as well. 

 

So we finally settled for a nearby coffee shop called Tampin Rojak housing a variety of local food stalls which we enjoyed including the rojak. We promptly left after 2pm as Kelvin had an appointment to keep back in KL. 

We said our goodbyes to the best host and hostess in Tampin promising to return with a vengeance. 

 

Overall the entire 24-hour trip was a long awaited and thoroughly enjoyable one, once again reminding me that family reunions with the living or dead give meaning and purpose to life. 

 

Thanks to all who made this happen. 

 

 

Happy Ching Ming all. 🙏🏽

 

I love you. HB Summer Gan

 To my daughter on her birthday. 

Happy Birthday Summer 

May You Be Well, May You Be Happy. Always.

Photo by Ahmad Odeh on Unsplash

My daughter taught me many things. 

Here are just some of them;

1. We are born dancers. 

The human body has 202 bones connected by 360 joints. Doesn’t this tell us that we should be moving a lot? Shouldn’t we all be dancing? 

Often reminded of this fact I dance like no one is watching every time I get a chance or when the music moves me. 

2. Dancers are the most meticulous thinkers. 

They have to remember every single move in a dance routine down to that intricate little gesture. A dance routine can last from 3 to 30 minutes and more. Imagine how many moves, steps and little details a dancer needs to remember performing on stage. Some of us can’t even remember 10 things to save our lives. 

I have been so intrigued by this truth that I am excited yet intimidated at the prospect of having a conversation with a dancer. After all how does one interact with a genius?

3. Some dancers can sing and act. 

They're called “triple threat.” Accomplished dancers, actors and singers can do all three. 

These people are truly gifted and talented to be able to sing, dance and act at the same time. Imagine the complexities of memorising the script, lyrics and moves required in a scene let alone an entire show or movie! That's how movie or film stars are made. 

What type of work could be more demanding yet so fulfilling to all? 

I can’t think of any. 

Aren’t they then the most perfect humans on the planet with talent, poise and compassion? 

Aren't they artists who do insane things with great beauty to delight us and keep us sane?

I have a good feeling that my daughter is doing well in her chosen path in life. 

Having balanced her emotions carefully, she has embarked upon her professional career in full flight. 

Whatever multiple roles she is pursuing I would just like to stand by the wayside and cheer her on, on her birthday. 

1. You are enough. Ten thousand times enough. 

You have everything it takes to do whatever you are doing and more. You know it deep down. 

Keep going no matter how hard or easy it gets. You’re on track to greatness. Believe it. 

2.  You have great focus. 

Whatever you choose to focus on you will excel. You have done it many times before. 

Your single minded focus has won you many medals. Keep going. Our ceiling is your floor. 

3. You have great compassion. 

It is embedded deep in your heart- more than passion, you have compassion. It is what differentiates great from good. When you do things with compassion you can’t help but to move people. 

Keep going. The world need great artists with sensitive hearts. 

Remember you have come so far all on your own. 

Know that I think about you constantly and that I hope you get to spend quiet time with your inner self through deep contemplation or meditation. I hope you do it daily. 

With love. 

Pxxx. 

P/s. “Scientists are dreamers of doom. Dancers are doers of delight.” 

Pp/s. I've dedicated this Bob Dylan classic for you today- Forever Young. Hope you like it. 

I love you. Papa.

 A Tribute to our Patriarch.

Gan Peng Chew @ Gan Yam - b.20 December 1912   d.Feb 2006

Abu & Papa

He was born on 20 December 1912, the eldest son of Gan Swee,- Kapitan China of Johol and his first wife.

Papa had a lot of growing up to do in a household that was fast expanding with siblings, first from his own mother- a Nyonya from Simpang Ampat Melaka, then from his father's second wife- a demure young lady with bound-feet from China. Grandfather was working hard around the clock to expand his newly established empire inside and outside his home in Johol. 

By 1919, he had proudly erected his sturdy home in two shop lots on Main Street by Chettiar builders. It was later annexed by the Japanese as their HQ during the occupation. Grandfather had a reputation for being a Japanese sympathiser although one of his sons, our fourth uncle was accused of being a Communist and executed. Nevertheless, the Gan household continued to grow to accommodate 14 sons and 13 daughters from two wives. 

Papa being the eldest heir, was sent to school to study English and Chinese in nearby Kuala Pilah. This was part of an elaborate plan to equip him to helm the Union Bus Co. started by grandfather. 

Before that, this suitable boy had to be paired with a suitable wife. 

Whether known or unbeknown to him, Papa had already been paired with a certain young lady in Simpang Ampat named Chin Kim. She was the third daughter of plantation tycoon Mr. Chin Poh who was good buddies with Mr. Gan Swee when they both started out as young lads off the boat from China. 

They were so close that they married sisters and pledged their first borns to each other for marriage. Ostensibly to keep the wealth of the families within the clans. The Gan's first born, a female was betrothed to the Chin's first born a male. Therefore the Gan's first born male, a third, was matched with the Chin's third born which was the first female. Both of them were of somewhat similar age with a year or two in gap.

Papa was blissfully wedded to our dear Abu- Madam Chin Kim, a fine woman of Nyonya heritage. 

She was a one-woman demolition team. In that she demolished all or any task set before her with great efficiency and tenacity. There was practically nothing she couldn't do. Being a Nyonya, the first order of proficiency was prowess in the kitchen. That she did extremely well clad in her sarong kebaya.

The kitchen, in our extensive colonial Dutch homestead spread over almost an acre of land on the fringes of Tampin town, was purpose built for serious heavy duty firewood cooking. It was constructed as an annex to the main living quarters, which was an elaborate wooden structure housing four huge bedrooms, two separate bathrooms on each wing, an enclosed inner living room serving as inner foyer for the bedrooms and an extended outer living room fringed with french windows and wooden trellises on the front and sides. The outer living room, for receiving guests was the least used area, as it leads to the front of the house ending with concrete stairs that slope to the front gardens leading down to the narrow front metal gate leading further down by steep narrow stairs to the main trunk road below. 

Did I mention that the entire house sits on thick concrete stilts? Except for the kitchen annex and the broad verandah that connects the kitchen, the store rooms and bathroom complex with the main house. Yes it does and by design, it leaves a delightful underbelly retreat for the kids, dogs and other animals to play or take refuge for whatever reason, whatever time of day or year. Especially our seven dogs. Plus it's a nifty place to store our coconuts when they fall from our numerous trees surrounding the compound. 

The 'main entrance' to our house is actually from the rear. A pair of heavy iron gates guard the entrance from unwanted visitors mainly cattle and goats who usually meet their unfortunate end if they should wander into our compound. Our Alsations are killers by instinct. Even human visitors who are welcome get an unfriendly reception from our dogs who are beautiful and handsome creatures but highly unpredictable.The only person they are afraid of is, you guessed it, Abu. And why might that be, you might venture to ask? Well, it's because our Abu is also our resident Veterinarian. She not only concocts the herbal remedies to heal wounds- animal, poultry or human, but she has the most dangerous task of administering the medicine to the wounded animal as well. No one else can or will do it. Picture five adult sized male alsations and two smaller females. The alpha male is the much dreaded and feared all black, pure bred, aptly named- Congo. He is thankfully balanced by the ever gentle and loving female matriach- Poppy, who bore him most of the litter. They all live happily under the main house. 

Whenever Papa comes home from work, he would nudge the iron gates open with the nose of his Simca. As is the usual modus operandi, to avoid running up and down opening the gates for father, we would agree to lightly latch the iron gates such that they will fling open on a gentle nudge from the chrome bumper of his unique French 4-door saloon Simca Aronde Etoile. The car would slowly descent from the tarred road down the gentle gravel slope to a clearing fronting the adjoining verandah between the kitchen area and the main house. The verandah is a long broad covered walkway that slopes off length wise to large cemented courtyards on both sides, that we use for sunning our clothes, fruits, and food. This strip of real estate is where we spend most of our time. Papa would perch himself on his favourite chair at the kitchen end just to be near where Abu is- the kitchen. Stripped to his sarong and his pagoda wife-beater, he would while most afternoons away chatting with his wife while she's busying herself making kueh for tea. Most times it'll be goreng pisang and keledek or steamed kueh bakul topped with freshly grated coconut. We all loved her for her endless culinary creations, all for Papa who would never allow her to leave home, even to the market but he will cart all sorts of meat and vegetables home for her to display her cooking repertoire. We would eagerly wait to see what Abu would conjure from her kitchen and we were never disappointed. 

Even though Papa was the General Manager of the bus company grandfather founded, he never was the 9 to 5 type. He is seldom found in his office but likely at the workshops, spare parts shops, in the work places chatting with people, building relationships or making friends. He had the gift of the gab. fluent in 7 languages they say, more gifted than Bond even more deadly. He wrestled an armadillo in the dead of the night while driving home from Johol, bundled it with the shirt off his back, swiftly into the boot of his Simca. I sat confused and confounded amidst the commotion soundly in the car. 

Papa was always on the move. At times, I remember seeing him getting in and out of his car several times a day, descending and ascending the gravel driveway to and from the 'main entrance' of our home. He'd be either unloading grocery for us or loading goods for the old folks at the welfare home he has been tasked to look after for many years. Otherwise he would love to drive long distance to Seremban or Malacca. Most times it's to meet people or to procure parts for the bus company and occasionally he'd take Abu on our family joy rides to visit her sisters and for doctors' appointments in both these places. It was on these trips that we get to enjoy the exciting array of delicious food that these ancient towns had to offer. And Papa knew where all the best eating places were. From the original mobile satay seller who operates under the angsana trees in front of the A'Formosa in Malacca to the beef brisket noodles stall situated deep in the wet market of Seremban town, we have sampled them all. Papa Gan was the original foodie. He even introduced me to Bak Kut Teh in KL back when I wasn't even ready for KL. But one is always ready for BKT. 

Apparently Papa's sphere of influence as a transportation man as well as foodie spread far and wide. During the 1950's and 1960's, startup bus companies relied on close cooperation and collaboration to keep each others fleets running smoothly. Whether in procuring new or used buses or spare parts, Papa's contacts stretched nationwide including Singapore as well as parts in the north.

Coming from such high standards of culinary exposure both from home and outside, we were taught to appreciate food, not just good tasting food but simple food cooked with heart will always have the umami factor. 

When the 70's came along, we had moved to smaller but more modern accommodations in No. 27, Woon Estate. It was a bungalow sitting on less than a quarter of the size of our previous homestead. It came with three bedrooms, two bathrooms with toilets instead of an outhouse with a bucket underneath and a good sized storeroom for our laundry and the occasional pet.  

Abu's kitchen was no longer wood-fired but gas. She continued to perform fabulously in the kitchen as well as her small garden tending to her favourite flowers mainly bougainvillas and orchids. Never requiring rest she seems determined to fill her waking hours with worthwhile work or chores once her duties of devoting herself to Papa was done. Papa realises that, counts his blessings, and tries his best to be a loving husband. It was easy to see that Papa loves Abu very much even though he's overly fussy and self absorbed at times.

However when the 80's rolled along, Abu fell ill and succumbed to her illness after bitter battles in oncology wards of hospitals in Malacca and KL. She passed away peacefully among family at home in August of 1986. 

Broken hearted and alone, Papa stayed on in Woon Estate in a home full of pleasant memories. The children have all flown the coop and settled down to their careers or forging ahead to build one.

Having just left the bank job Papa got me, still in my early twenties, I was finding my way in the world of advertising. Relatively single, available and living alone I coaxed Papa into spending time with me in KL. I assured him that he was free to come and go as he pleased. 

Powered by his trusty chariot, a white Datsun120Y-NK388, he was virtually a free man plying between Johol, Tampin and KL doing whatever he pleases. I think he loved the bustle of KL most, being the 'young' and adventurous type. I would be mostly absent, being entangled in my own life and career adventures, save for weekends. He would roam the neighbourhood where we lived and the streets of KL looking for food or companionship. He found both in abundance and more. He found his third wife. With great strategy and dexterity, he knew he needed someone to spend his time with at the same time, he'd be needing a companion to care for him as the years advances. So he found and courted an unmarried lady twenty-eight years younger than him. He promptly married her in a private ceremony he planned with her without any of his children's involvement. We didn't take his marriage to her very kindly. Perhaps because we loved the memory of Abu too much to call another woman 'Mother' so we called her 'Aunty'.

He seemed to have found happiness and a reason to live again. With his new wife, Papa roamed the country from Kampar in the north to Johol in the south and everywhere else in between. Later the happy couple travelled the world with friends on guided tours as well as guests to my sister and her family who lived overseas. Life was good. 

Grandchildren came early for both Papa and Abu. Their only child, our eldest sister, delivered two pairs of boys and girls in quick succession. Then second eldest sister who was adopted, delivered two girls and a boy. Our older brother and his wife made them fuss and delight over a pair of lovely children soon after their marriage. The first a boy to carry the family name forward. Then came my children also in relative quick succession- boy, boy, girl. Followed by our baby sister with an adorable little girl bringing up the rear of this generation. 

Papa and his wife were housed close to my family, saw our children often and our children got to spend quality time with their grandparents. 

The years flew by, the children got older and bigger, the adults got older and more stressed and the elder got Alzheimer's and lost. Papa loved driving and one day he got lost driving his Datsun 120Y somewhere in KL. We were frantic not knowing what to do. We even got a radio station to broadcast his car make and number and to contact us if spotted but to no avail. Luckily he stopped and stumbled into someone's house in the middle of nowhere asking for directions. The good samaritan got in touch with us and we promptly retrieved him. From then onwards we placed a lost & found card in his shirt pocket every time he went out but more importantly he could only go out with his wife. Even though he never got lost again, things became worse for his handlers, especially his wife. He would lose track of time and insist on going out at anytime of the day or night. Papa seldom takes no for an answer. Aunty took the brunt of it all, took the responsibilities faithfully and sometimes the blows from his walking stick. But the silver lining behind this affliction was that he also forgot about his illnesses. He used to suffer from gout and a mild cancer of the kidney, they all went away when Alzheimer's came. And he continued to live a relatively robust life. 

Until his grandson got sick. A pall of dark cloud seem to hang over the family when Jon was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour. Papa was most distressed and even lucid. They were both very close to each other often spending time chatting about things. In a quiet moment shared with me, he confided that he would gladly give up his life in exchange for Jon's recovery. After his birthday in December and on the days leading up to Chinese New Year in 2006, Papa's health had deteriorated. He could barely sit up at our CNY reunion dinner table at home but he was present nonetheless. It was to be his last with us, and he left us on the seventh day of CNY. He went down, fighting a bleeding ulcer, at the emergency room of the KLGH. Even in his last moments, Papa's zest for life was insatiable. He refused to go quietly into the night but fought tooth and nail to hang onto a life well lived.

Happy Birthday Pa.

I Love You. Happy 30th Jon

What do Blake Edwards, Stanley Kubrick, Mick Jagger, Helen Mirren & Jacinda Ardern have in common?

They all share the same birthday with Jonathan Gan Ye Zhan.

Blake Edwards

Blake Edwards (b. July 26, 1922) is an American film director, screenwriter, and producer originally William Blake McEdwards (1922–2010) Director and writer born in Tulsa, Oklahoma, USA. A former actor and radio scriptwriter, he made his film directorial debut in 1955 with Bring Your Smile Along. He is best known for Breakfast at Tiffanys (1961), and his series of Pink Panther films (1964–78) starring Peter Sellers. He also produced, directed, and occasionally wrote for the television series Peter Gunn (1958-1961). Other films include Operation Petticoat (1959), S.O.B. (1981), and Switch (1991). In 2004 he received a Lifetime Achievement Academy Award. He is married to the actress Julie Andrews.

Kubrick, Stanley

Kubrick, Stanley, (1928–99) American film director, writer, and producer, b. New York City. His visually stunning, thematically daring, boldly idiosyncratic, and darkly compelling films generally portray a deeply flawed humanity. Kubrick made several documentary shorts in the 1950s, turning to film noir features with Fear and Desire (1953), Killer's Kiss (1955), and The Killing (1956). He scored his first hit with the bleak antiwar drama Paths of Glory (1957). After completing the Roman epic Spartacus (1960), he left Hollywood (1961) to move to England. He soon made a series of brilliant films: the sexualized, sad, and uproariously comic Lolita (1962), the apocalyptic black comedy Dr. Strangelove (1964), the science-fiction classic 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), and the violently futuristic A Clockwork Orange (1971). Kubrick's later films include Barry Lyndon (1975); The Shining (1987), a terrifying version of Stephen King's novel; the bitter Vietnam-era Full Metal Jacket (1987); and the psychosexual thriller Eyes Wide Shut (1999), his last film, called a masterpiece by some critics and a pretentious disappointment by others.

See biography by V. Lobrutto (1997); G. Phillips, Stanley Kubrick: A Film Odyssey (1975); T. A. Nelson, Kubrick: Inside a Film Artist's Maze (1982); M. Ciment, Kubrick (1983); N. Kagan, The Cinema of Stanley Kubrick (1989); M. Falsetto, Stanley Kubrick: A Narrative and Stylistic Analysis (1994).


Mick Jagger

popular name of Sir Michael Phillip Jagger (1943– ) Singer, born in Dartford, Kent, SE England, UK. He attended the London School of Economics, but left to form his own rock group, The Rolling Stones, together with Keith Richard, Bill Wyman, Charlie Watts, and Brian Jones. Following their debut in London (1962), the group released its first single, ‘Come On’ (1963). Jagger's unconventional behaviour on stage, and the group's uninhibited lifestyles, cultivated a rebellious image which appealed to a generation of teenagers during the 1960s. He wrote and sang many of their hit singles including ‘The Last Time’ (1965), ‘I Can't Get No Satisfaction’ (1965), ‘Honky Tonk Woman’ (1969), and various albums. He released two solo albums, She's the Boss (1985) and Primitive Cool (1987). Still popular after three decades, the group released the Steel Wheels album (1988), and went on tour (1989). They were still in the album charts in the 1990s with the release of Flashpoint (1991), Voodoo Lounge (1994), and Bridges to Babylon (1997), and in 2005 released A Bigger Bang with accompanying tour. In 2001 Jagger released a further solo album, Goddess in the Doorway. His film appearances include Performance (1968), Ned Kelly (1969), and Freejack (1992). He received a knighthood in 2002.

Helen Mirren 

Dame Helen Lydia Mirren, DBE (née Mironoff (ru Елена Лидия Васильевна Миронова - Elena Lydia Vasilievna Mironova^[1]); born 26 July 1945)^[2] is an English actor. Excelling on stage with the National Youth Theatre, her performance as Cleopatra in Antony and Cleopatra in 1965 saw her invited to join the Royal Shakespeare Company before she made her West End stage debut in 1975. Since then, Mirren has also had success in television and film. She is one of the few performers who have achieved the Triple Crown of Acting in the US. She won the Academy Award for Best Actress for her performance as Queen Elizabeth II in The Queen, the Tony Award for Best Actress in a Play for the same role in The Audience, and has won the Primetime Emmy Award for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Limited Series or Movie four times.

Mirren continued her successful film career when she starred more recently in Gosford Park (2001) with Maggie Smith and Calendar Girls (2003) with Julie Walters. Other more recent appearances include The Clearing, Pride, Raising Helen, and Shadowboxer. Mirren also provided the voice for the supercomputer "Deep Thought" in the film adaptation of Douglas Adams's The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. During her career, she has portrayed three British queens in different films and television series: Queen Elizabeth I in the television series Elizabeth I (2005), Queen Elizabeth II in The Queen (2006), and Queen Charlotte, the wife of King George III, in The Madness of King George (1994). She is the only actor to have portrayed both Queens Elizabeth on the screen.^[41]

Mirren's title role of The Queen earned her numerous acting awards including a BAFTA, a Golden Globe, and an Academy Award, among many others. During her acceptance speech at the Academy Award ceremony, she praised and thanked Elizabeth II and stated that she had maintained her dignity and weathered many storms during her reign as Queen. Mirren later appeared in supporting roles in the films National Treasure: Book of Secrets, Inkheart, State of Play, and The Last Station, for which she was nominated for an Oscar.^[45]

Jacinda Ardern

Jacinda Kate Laurell Ardern^[2] (/dʒəˈsɪndə ˈɑːrdɜːrn/;^[1] born 26 July 1980) is a New Zealand politician who has served as the 40th Prime Minister of New Zealand and Leader of the Labour Party since 2017. She has been the Member of Parliament (MP) for Mount Albert since March 2017, having first been elected to the House of Representatives as a list MP in 2008.^[3]

Born in Hamilton, Ardern grew up in Morrinsville and Murupara, where she attended a state school. After graduating from the University of Waikato in 2001, Ardern began her career working as a researcher in the office of Prime Minister Helen Clark. She later worked in London, within the Cabinet Office, and was elected President of the International Union of Socialist Youth.^[4][5] Ardern was first elected as an MP in the 2008 general election, when Labour lost power after nine years. She was later elected to represent the Mount Albert electorate in a by-election in February 2017.

Ardern was unanimously elected as Deputy Leader of the Labour Party on 1 March 2017, following the resignation of Annette King. Just five months later, with an election due, Labour Leader Andrew Little resigned after a historically low opinion polling result for the party, with Ardern elected unopposed as Leader of the Labour Party in his place.^[6] She led her party to gain 14 seats at the 2017 general election on 23 September, winning 46 seats to the National Party's 56.^[7] After a period of negotiations, New Zealand First chose to enter a minority coalition government with Labour, supported by the Green Party, with Ardern as Prime Minister; she was sworn in by the Governor-General on 26 October 2017.^[8] She became the world's youngest female head of government at age 37.

Jonathan Byron Gan Ye Zhan (1990-2006)

Born 1990 to ecstatic parents in Pantai Hospital, Kuala Lumpur. Received his primary education in Kuen Cheng Chinese School in Jalan Belfield Kuala Lumpur. Appointed school prefect, trumpeter and bass drum in the school marching band, sole member of the school tennis team and sole debater of the school's debating society. Played competitive level soccer in the weekend football club-First touch. Attended football coaching at Manchester United Soccer School in Old Trafford for 10 days on 2002. Scored 5 A's & 2B's in the UPSR exams and won a place in Victoria Institution Secondary School. Patrol Leader in the 1st KL Boys Scouts movement. Football on weekends, guitar lessons evenings. Friends, relatives, family and girls. What a full life he lived. Then he was diagnosed with PNET. An inoperable brain tumor had been found in the right thalamic area of his brain that eventually rendered his left side semi paralysed. He underwent cancer treatment- radio therapy, chemotherapy and subjected his physical and mental self to the harsh effects of the treatments. At times it was painfully unbearable but he never showed it or even complained. He soldiered on unflinching.   Only because we urged him to. 

We love you Jon and we look up to you in absolute awe, admiration and affection every day. 

You are our Super Star.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOYS & GIRLS!