As I was watching this RTHK tv drama about HK at the 60's

I suddenly realized

Dad's Love for me

and his pain of my not taking it from him

He once asked mom where I was

Expecting me to help him at work after I came back from the States

not making it

he didnt really care

So

I had been helping him out for a while getting my $300 monthly paid

at the drill, at the lathe, at the work bench producing the same products from morning till night

I was sent to live in my sister's

when I quitted farming, quitted King Fook, quitted Rena ware and re-entered Baptist College to do my diploma

Dad had me in his mind

to take up his metalwork business

He had so painstakingly built up

bit by bit, scrap by scrap

How he loved that piece of white copper he put on top of his wardrobe

my sister ignorantly threw away when she moved our shekkipmei flat to mei foo

it could have been like passing on one soul to another

through passing his survival skills to me in metalwork

His way

through quiet observations, disciplined daily life all year round

No lectures no explanation you just observe and use your eyes

and never ending work

And take up his simple way of life

of generous Loving

Giving

and enjoying

But mom

who comes from a trading town

saw no future in this

So now

I become a teacher

But basically

I am still a metal worker working in his workshop all on my own

Somehow, I am trying to do what my dad was doing now to my students

hammering those mellable voices churnning them into something the society would buy

and get some simple pleasure from it

But now, as I too, want to pass on my skills to any students with some potential to carry on the business

and get rejected

Somehow, I dont mind too much either

come as you might, go as you wish

simple life for me

to live to love for today

to sing or hum a few tunes at my work

Not too bothered by money or people around me

and I don't bother them

a hermit at heart

living his own life

I am no different from my father

Me

I dont fall for people who command good English

If I had

I would have fallen for native speakers or near native

But I haven't Their Good English scares me

I fall for people who echo me

I go for those who are a little lower than me

Yet not so low as not to have the ability to reflect me

I go only for those whom I think can reflect me

I dont care how well they can play the piano

or how well or how poor they do in their own field

I just fall for my own reflection

a greater me a potential me

A me I long to be but can't be

A more perfect me

A me I am unable to realize by myself

So I build my dream on whoever gives me the idea that

she maybe a good material

material to build me

Adam's lost rib bone

God's image God wants to see in me.

You

A day like any ordinary day

You came

And that makes all the difference

They

hey come and go and come and go and you never get tired never never never never

get tired of them of them of them you never get tired of them of them of them no way

till they suck your soul away