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gialyçš„ä¸»é http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy Sun, 08 Nov 2009 20:53 EST Sun, 08 Nov 2009 20:53 EST Zorpia.com THE CHILD IN THE RIVER http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1809006                                          Dedicated to my friends V., S., Jz., and Einstein.                                                                 ------------------ My old familial house, which my grandfather established after his retirement from the mandarin post of Tri Phu (a kind of Chief of Province), was situated in a large area including gardens and rice fields, with three sides surrounded by rivers, and the other side was a chain of mountains and forests. My mother used to tell  us that when she came to that house as a new bride, the desolate site scared her a little, but as she got acquainted, she loved it a lot. Retired, my grandfather became the local medecin, so our house was most of the time crowded with patients, some ones from far-away places, among them there were even French people. Years after, when they returned to VN, these foreigners still came to pay visit to the old rural medecin and thank him. At that time, wild animals sometimes came down from the mountains. Even in my childhood, one night an hungry tiger had come down and been shot dead by the local troops at the foot of a hill. Early in the next morning, one of my cousin and I had run up to see it. I was very disappointed, because it was an old tiger, so thin that it looked pitiful and miserable. My mom told us that in those past times, one day when both my grandpa and father were absent, and she was preparing some herbal medicine, a wild boar had run into our courtyard, and the women and the children had been shouting and fleeing in all directions. Suddenly, an uncle of mine, my mom's cousin, a six year-old boy, had picked up a broom and ran after the boar to beat it, and the wild boar, terrified by that terrible kid with his piercing shouts, had fled out. I really had a hell of an uncle! My father liked the chase, and he used to go into the forest to chase with one of his best friend, a dead shot of the village, with the funny name of Giam Xeu. This gentleman was eventually killed by a big wild boar. That fateful afternoon, they both spotted a big wild boar, and Mr. Xeu shot it down with just a single shot. As the boar lied motionless on the ground, he came up near it, gun in hand. Suddenly, the boar rose up and tried to thrust. Very camly, Mr. Xeu stepped back and cocked his gun. But he tripped over a branch on the ground and fell. The wild boar thrusted against him, tearing up his side with a horrible cut. He died right at the moment my father carried him back home. My father was a good marksman, I dont know why members in my family were all good in shooting. My elder brother was an excellent marksman, I am not bad either, but the best one was my younger brother. He could shoot with an terrifying accuracy, and one of his favorite game was to put a bullet at the center of a target, then fired at some distance of fifteen meters, and his shot would blow up that bullet and the target altogether. My youngest sister had once asked him how could he shoot like that, he smile and told her jokingly that there were 8 principles of shooting for all marksmen, but he had nine. When he didn't go for the chase in his free time, my father went for the fishing. He rented a small roofed boat, carried along a number of his fishing rods and stuffs, plus his inseparable 12-caliber shotgun, and rowed upstream about some five or six kilometers from our house to fish, right in the middle of the river. What happened in that scarry night was told to me when I was some ten years old, but I remember it well. It was the time when one of his friends came from the city to see him and stayed some days with him. They had gone for the chase, but they didn't get much, so they returned and took the boat. For a man from the city, these activities were a real treat. They rowed the boat far upstream, anchored the boat and began fishing. At the end of the day, they got a lot of fishes that my father put in a bamboo basket dipped in the water at the boat's bottom. It had been raining some while in the afternoon, the river was tranquil and very cold. They got some food, then went to sleep, for they were tired. My father did have a sound sleep, for he only woke up when someone shook him strongly by his shoulders. "H.! (my father's name)...H.! Wake up!" a strange voice hissed imperceptibly by his ear, "Ghost!..." My father sat up. In the silence of the night, he heard a light thudding sound of something falling into the water. Then he looked at the one talking and saw that was Mr.Th. his friend, with a voice out of tune and a face turned pale from fear. "What's the matter Th.?" my father asked. "A ghost, H.! A ghost!...Hush!... Don't move. It will come!" The man showed outside the boat with his finger. It was not a full-moon night, but there was enough light to see the white river water flowing downstream and the vague dark trees on the riverbanks. They stayed silent for a while, Mr. Th. kept on showing the direction with his shaking finger. Then my father sensed a slight shudder in the boat, and the boat tilted almost imperceptibly at one side, as if something was clinging to the boat-side to climb up on. Then a face slowly appeared over the boat-side, raising bit by bit from the river. My father looked and looked. It was the face of a child. In the dim light, he saw that the child was clutching the boat-side with his hands and looked into the inside of the boat where they were sitting, overwhelmingly thunderstruck. It was a very small child, like a new-born. And now he was looking at my father with his rounded eyes - and a hideous grin on his face, baring his white teeth. A new-born child, with teeth! In the dark under the boat roof, my father seized his shotgun. But at the slightest sound he made, the child jumped down into the river with a flopping sound and disappeared. My father never believed in ghosts. But now he felt cold. And the night was really cold in fact. No one could soak oneself in this glacial water in the middle of the night, much less a new-born child. So they both sat silently, completely aghast and doubtful, for a long time. My father took his gun, loaded and cocked it, awaiting. Time passed. No one spoke. Then the boat had a slight trembling again, and the boat inclined very lightly, almost imperceptible. The weird child seized the boat-side with both hands, raising up his face and looking inside the boat, always with his white teeth and his hideous grin. My father aimed and fired. The explosion broke the silence of the night. The boat had a tremor as the monstrous child was thrown up in the air and fell flopping down on the water. My father and his friend rushed out and looked. The corpse lied there, floating on the river. It was a big otter. The otter, that water-rat which dived so well and fed on fishes, that night had sensed the smell of the fishes in the boat and come up to catch them.                                                        -------------------------------- Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1809006 Sun, 01 Jun 2008 12:36 EST TIME OF FURY http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1808786                                                                                                                 Dedicated to Lady Veronica                                                                 -------------- In the summer I came to my 11th class, I was living in a small town of the Central Vietnam. I had three friends, very close, although we're not all classmates, two of them were from another high school. I was the youngest - I was always the youngest in every class, every school I attended. Almost all my   friends at that time were two to four years older than me. We used to exchange school lessons, do exercises in martial arts and take strolls together around the town at night, some time till 4 o'clock in the morning. Seldom passed a day we're not together. Then one day, a friend didn't come. Then two days. At the third day, the three of us decided to come to his home, as he was living far from us. Just as we were leaving, he came with a devastated face and a terrible news. His elder sister had killed herself. I loved that sister a lot. She was a young and very beautiful girl, three years older than me, gentle and kind. Sometimes, when I came to her house, she had  some talk with me, caressing my hair or giving me some cakes she had made herself. A man seduced her, got her pregnant and dropped her. In this small town we're living, where rumors spread like wildfire and traditions highly estime the chastity, her situation was real hell. Desperate and deeply hurt, she jumped into the river and got drowned. My friend cried, and the three of us were all dazed as he told us this sudden news. We sweared to revenge for my friend's sister. We knew the guy who seduced her, he was the son of a rich man, named T., handsome and tall. He didn't know us, so we could find him and approach him. But he had fled after this event. We roamed every where, every quarter in our town during all our vacation time. He was nowhere. But we didn't forget our promise. Then one afternoon, as I was on  a bike behind one of my friend, and he was pedalling through a deserted road, we surprised the guy, he was playing kind of handball with some other guys. They were four, so we would have to fight two - to - one. But we're not afraid. My friend dashed the bike at the guy, he evaded but we still brushed him. The guys shouted and we stopped. A dispute exploded between my friend and T. - that base guy who seduced and dropped out an innocent girl who had loved and trusted him, and caused her death. Eventually, in his anger, T. gave my friend a slap. That was what G., my friend, awaited. He jumped down from the bike, told me to hold it, then said to the other three guys, "You see, he slapped me. So let me and him solve this between men, with no one intervening, ok?" G. was smaller than me though he was older. But he was a better fighter. So that afternoon, he used the  Shaolin Houquan - a kind of boxing called the Monkey Boxing, beating that guy ruthlessly. At the end, when T. fell down and couldn't rise up, his friends rushed in to his rescue. I threw my bike at one of them, knocking him down, and fought another one, while G attacked the third. They all fled, perhaps to call their band. G. seized T.'s collar, raised him up, and said with a very harh voice: "That's for Miss C.! Understood, coward?" He stammered indistinctly "Yes...!... give... ... give me..." G. shouted, "What?" The guy kept on stammering, "... give...  forgive me!... please..." I looked at his blood-stained face and said to G., "It's ok, G.! Let's go home." We rode our bike back home. We talked about the fight for some while. Then at one moment, I looked at the sky, and couldn't move my eyes away. It was a blue, very clear sky, with just some touches of white  clouds, a mild sky of happiness. Suddenly, I felt a sort of sadness invade my heart, sweeping away all the joy of having revenged for our friends. Two weeks later, I fell into an ambush set by T. and his band, one night I walked back home. They were  about ten guys, armed with sticks, clubs, chains, even daggers. I was beaten savagely and had to stay in bed for two months, abandonning my class. My friends wanted to fight back for revenge, we had enough force to beat them out. But I told all my friends to stop. It was really hard for them to accept that, but in the end they agreed. The second day after that ambush, my cousin, the one I loved the most in my life, came to pay me visit. She burst into tears as she looked at my face. I rubbed her hair, and knew deep in my heart that my adolescent years had come to an end.                                                                 ------------------------ Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1808786 Sat, 31 May 2008 21:57 EST JOKES http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1808752                                                              JOKES                                                  (Added some new ones)                                             To Lady Sheila and Lady HUGS                                              For some moments of relaxation                                                             ------------ NAIVE CUSTOMER A man walked into a sporting-goods shop where he was approached by a clerk. "May I help you?" the clerk asked. "Yes, I'd like some shoes." "What do you want to use them for - tennis, volleyball, basketball, hiking, running, jogging?" The customer looked around at the different types of shoes, then back at the eager young salesman and answered, rather timorously: "Well, I, uh, thought I'd just walk around in them. Is that ok?" ---------------------------   NAIVE WIFE A tearful house wife stood before the judge and said," Your Honor, I want to charge my husband with adultery. I think he has been unfaithful to me." "Do you have any evidence?" asked the judge. "Well, Your Honor, I' ve been studying the faces of my three children and not one of them looks   like him!" ------------------------ NAIVE HUSBAND! "I was relaxing in my favorite chair on Sunday," said a man to his friend, "reading the newspaper, watching a ball game on TV, and listening to another on the radio, drinking beer, eating a snack and scratching the dog with my foot - and my wife has the nerve to accuse me of just sitting there doing nothing!" -------------------- GENTLE HUSBAND! Husband to wife as they watch television: " I'd like to get my hands on whoever approves all this violence on TV!" --------------------------  POOR HUSBAND! Husband to wife, " I was not yawning the whole time you were talking. I was trying to say something."   -------------------  NAIVE SAINT PETER! POOR MINISTER! Saint Peter greeted the two ministers at the Pearly Gates and said: "Your condos aren't ready yet. Until they're finished, you can return to Earth as anything you want." "Fine," said the first minister. "I've always wanted to be an eagle soaring over the Grand Canyon." "And I'd like to be a real cool stud," said the second. Poof! Their wishes were granted. When the condos were finished, Saint Peter asked an assistant to bring the two ministers back. "How will I find them?" the assistant asked. "One is soaring over the Grand Canyon," Saint Peter replied. "The other may be tough to locate. He's somewhere in Detroit - on a snow tire." (NOTE.  stud: 1. a sexually promiscuous man (Slang)                      2. a nail head) --------------------- CUTE WORDS! Although he likes it a lot, my brother-in-law is not good in music, especially a tune that he doesn't carry well. One afternoon, after listening to him for an interminable time, I overheard my sister ask, "Why do you always hum that song?" "Because it haunts me, " he answered. "No wonder," she said, "you're murdering it." --------------------- FAIRNESS IN MARRIAGE LIFE Married for 52 years, my grandparents are considered by many to have the ideal marriage. They always do things together and have never had a dispute. On their 52nd wedding anniversary our grandparents were asked to reveal their secret for a lasting marriage. "We have always agreed on a simple arrangement," replied my grand-father. "In the morning she does what she wants, and in the afternoon I do what she wants." -------------------- Gossips & Jokes http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1808752 Sat, 31 May 2008 19:36 EST A GHOST STORY http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1788478 A GHOST STORY Dedicated to: Jazzie, for her comment nody, Hnadi, Mtv (long time no see!), Angel of Kuwait and all my young friends... My house, where I lived throughout my childhood with my parents, is surrounded on three sides by rivers, the other side is a range of hills and mountains. The river at the back of my house is just a branch of the great river in front. It flows, at numerous spots, between the gardens and deserted lands on the two banks, with thick shrubs and big trees, and gets very dark at night. My early years were full of ghost stories. My grandma used to tell us that whenever she passed that section of river on boat by night, she heard a voice urging from the deep water "Row fast!... Row fast!..", and the boat man hurried to push his oars. Otherwise, a white hand would raise up from the water and grab the boat-side and only God knew what would happen. So we never dared to bath in that river at night. When I grew up and came to the University, I forgot all those stories. I used to take bath in that small river by night, and swim along the big river in daytime. One night, I went to attend a ceremony party at a friend's home in a nearby hamlet. Past midnight, as I walked back home, I chose a shortcut which led straight to my garden on the other side of that small dark river. But there was no bridge at that spot, and I decided to swim across the river. I put out all my clothes then swim across the river with a hand raising up, holding them over the water. Reaching to the bank on my garden, I stepped up and began to put on my clothes again. But when I picked up my shirt and looked up, I saw the girl. She was standing on the other riverbank, right at the spot I just left some fifteen minutes before. The night was lit with a vague moon, which made all the shadows darker. But the girl was standing right in the moon light, clearly distinguished from the dark background of trees, looking in my direction. I thought I could see a fixed look on her white face. A white and pale face. I had a shudder. Various ideas came into my mind. The memories and fears from childhood... the curiosity... the philosophical thinking and conviction of a young student... the desire to know if there were ghosts or there were not ghosts... etc. So I looked at the girl once more, then putting on only my shorts, I swam back to the place on the other riverside. When I reached the bank, the girl disappeared. I kind of looked around, but she was nowhere. It was just a vision. I swam back again to my garden after shrugging my shoulders. "Illusion!..." I told myself. But as I put on my shirt, and looked toward that direction just for a try, I saw the girl again. She was standing at the same place, fixed her look at me. And this time, she waved to me. A white hand, waving. Imperceptibly... but I was sure that she moved something. Then she waved to me again, this time very clearly. I could see her hand waving and waving... You can laugh, but I was a little drunk that night, after the party. I swam back again to the girl, for the second time. I thought she was probably a ghost, and I would be able to see her, maybe talk with her, and I would know the truth about that question. There's still no proof to show the existence of ghosts, but there's also no proof to affirm their non-existence. Once more, I got to the spot, and once more, the girl disappeared. I was very disappointed, and a little angered. I stood there, looking around... then I moved a little around, searching... Then I understood. The banana tree, and the moon! There was a banana tree at the edge of that garden, and it was lightened when the moon got out of a flowing cloud... then sunk into the shadow when the moon was hidden behind another cloud. The banana big leaves, reflecting the moon light, gave me the vision of the girl. And it also gave me a feeling of cold. I don't know if ever I meet a real ghost, I would have that same feeling... Dear friends - and Dear jazzie, Just for you, to have a certain moment of relaxation... if you're not scared. My ghost stories are not real ghosts, though they might be scary sometimes. But I have been told of many real  ghost stories from trust-worthy people. I will tell you some, when we have the opportunity. OK? Best regards,    Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1788478 Sun, 30 Mar 2008 01:16 EST THE STORY OF K'TE THE LAZY http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1787615                                            The Story of K'Te the Lazy (I told my friends V. and N. that I would tell them a story about a brave Chinese lady. But as the story was too long, I would have to cut out a large portion, which I hadn't done yet! So I wrote this in its place.)                                                             ------                                  In dedication to V, Nostalgia, c, and JAN. In the Spring 1995, I had a mission in a mountainous area deep in one of the largest forests of VN, called the "Three-Frontiers Area". I had two friends going along with me, a journalist and an ethnologist, both ladies. After two days staying in the Central Highlands, we moved far deep into the forest and reach to the ethnic minority of Mah, one of the most noteworthy tribal minority of VN. The women are mostly silent yet beautiful and all the children have deep black eyes. And what did strike me the most was their sincerity and hospitality. Once they believe us, they would never forget us and be so kind that we could hardly betray them. These people have a nice way of showing their hospitality. As they had been informed in advance of our arrival, when we reached the forest's edge, in the dim light of sunset, we heard the sound of a merry musical melody, played by specific instruments called Gongs, like a warm welcome from that far-away hamlet. After two hours of drinking with them their famous wine "Ruou Can" in a large Jar, we took leave. Twelve men, among them some old men, ran up to the places they put their Gongs. Another melody raised up, this time sad, sweet and desolate, as the men clapped to their gongs and danced their gracious traditional dance, following the rhythm of the song to see us off. That sorrowful and poignant melody followed us till the edge of the forest. The next evening, the Chief of the district organized a party to greet us. A number of those ethnic minority people were invited. That's when we met K'Te the Lazy. He was famous in his tribe because of his laziness. In this land of old fixed traditions, where the girls ask the boys to marry them at the cost of a number of buffaloes and jars plus a span of land to cultivate coffee trees, he has not been asked till this day by any girl, because he was very lazy, and all the girls might think he would let them die of hunger and did nothing. So he was sitting there with his drink, silent and morose, and replied by curt answers to some friends passing by, talking to him. My friend the ethnologist is an excellent wine drinker. She could beat us all with drinking wine. The more she drank, the more her face became pale and beautiful. So that night, M., as she was called, had been drinking a lot and was a little bit drunk. She saw K'Te The Lazy, and as she got a little naughty, she came up to his place, "Hey, K'Te!" "Hey!" K'Te replied, not deigning to look up. "Why are you sitting alone like that, K'Te?" "Hmmmm! That's it!"  was all the answer. Some people laughed. "Would you drink with me?" M. asked. "Why?" "Because I love you!" "Hmmmm!" I came up, but M. was getting drunk. "Would you marry me, K'Te?" "Why?" "Because I love you!" People laughed, but K'Te remained gloomy and irritable. "What would you request?" "Uhmm... not much! five hundred holes to plant coffee tree, OK?" "Hmmmm!... five hundred?" For such a lazy guy as K'Te, to clear out a good land in the forest and dig 500 holes to plant coffee tree was rather much! I pulled my friend away, but she was really drunk. "Yea! five hundred holes! OK?" People laughed and laughed. I dragged her away. "OK" The man replied, as sad and gloomy as always. Surely, M forgot all of this, when she woke up the next morning. And we were setting to do our job. But the following day, as she wandered by K'Te's hut, she saw him digging earth vehemently. And working together with K'Te The Lazy was his brother, also famous for his own laziness like him. There were about one hundred holes already dug out in a plot of cleared forest land. K'Te the Lazy was not lazy at all. M. was taken with fear. Those naive and frank people knew nothing about joking. She came to me and asked me to leave, before things could become complicated! I saw that she was really afraid. She is an ethnologist, and she knows about the ethnic minority people. So I asked the District Chief to lend us three a car to leave early the next morning. I didn't know how K'Te knew that we're leaving. Perhaps some of his friends saw M. prepare her traveling bag. But as the car turned round a hillside, we saw the man. He ran along with us, leaping and jumping, at times disappeared behind shrubs and trees, at times appeared on the hillside above us, waving and shouting!... I looked at M. Her face was as white as a paper. After a certain time, we saw the man no more. I dropped out that place, and chose another site for my job. It seemed that M. didn't came back there during a longtime afterwards. I really wish all the people mentioned in this story got all the best things! Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1787615 Thu, 27 Mar 2008 16:06 EST Ã€ TOI ... http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1785962 Ã€ Toi... Un soir, je me sentis si fatiguÃ©, quand je suis venu voir une de mes amies, que je me suis endormi presque aussitÃ´t. Quand je m'Ã©veillis, je sentais Ã ma tÃªte quelque chose Ã©trange, douce et chatouillante,  et j'ai appercu que mon amie me caressait les cheveux... Que c'est consolant! Alors je me souvenais de ce poÃ¨me de Rimbaud. Je le tape ici comme un tout petit cadeau envoyÃ© Ã mes deux amies, Lady VÃ©ronica et Lady OrchidÃ©e. Pour leur lecture... ---- LES CHERCHEUSES DE POUX "Quand le front de l'enfant, pleine de rouges tourmentes. Implore l'essaim blanc des rÃªves indistincts, Il vient prÃ¨s de son lit deux grandes soeurs charmantes Avec de frÃªles doigts aux ongles argentins. Elles assoient l'enfant auprÃ¨s d'une croisÃ©e Grande ouverte oÃ¹ l'air bleu baigne un foullis de fleurs, Et dans ses lourds cheveux oÃ¹ tombe la rosÃ©e PromÃ¨nent leurs doigts fins, terribles et charmeurs. Il Ã©coute chanter leurs haleines craintives Qui fleurent de longs miels vÃ©gÃ©taux et rosÃ©s, Et qu'interrompt parfois un sifflement, salives, Reprises sur la lÃ¨vre ou dÃ©sirs de baisers. Il entend leurs cils noirs battant sous les silences ParfumÃ©s; et leurs doigts Ã©lectriques et doux Font crÃ©piter parmi ses grises indolences Sous leurs ongles royaux la mort des petits poux. VoilÃ que monte en lui le vin de la Paresse. Soupir d'harmonica qui pourrait dÃ©lirer; L'enfant se sent, selon la lenteur des caresses, Sourdre et mourir sans cesse un dÃ©sir de pleurer. ARTHUR RIMBAUD Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1785962 Sun, 23 Mar 2008 01:03 EST JOKES http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1785960 JOKES To my new friends Ladies Trudy, Ionita, Jan, Nostalgia, Janet, c, Muna, elen, Lhita and BlackBird for some relaxed moments... ------ MISTAKEN ANGELS! (Poor Arthur!) Arthur rubbed the old lamp he'd purchased at a flea market, and sure enough, a genie appeared. "Thanks for setting me free," said the grateful spirit. "Aren't you going to grant me a wish?" asked hopeful Arthur, who loves angel stories. "Are you kidding?" answered the genie. "If I could grant wishes, would I have been in that lousy lamp all this time?" MISTAKEN IDENTITY! (Poor Jan!) At a party, my sister Jan withdrew for a while to breast-fed her two-month-old son. A seven-year-old at the party, who was looking at her since some moment, asked if she could go with her and watched with interest. "Does milk really come out of there?" she asked Jan. Jan convinced her that it did. There was complete silence. Then the youngster suddenly asked, "Do you eat grass too?" MISTAKEN PURPOSE! (Poor me!) On my first visit to Singapore, I was descending a long escalator at the beautiful airport. I put my heavy overnight bag on the step beside me as I admired the surroundings. But when I bent down to pick up the bag, I missed the trap, over balanced and landed on my backside on the moving step. At the bottom, the escalator eased me smoothly onto the floor. An elderly Chinese lady standing there was most concerned at this unorthodox arrival of the decently-clad gentleman who was me. To hide my embarrassment and reassure her, I hooped up quickly and laughed. Her concern changed to surprised mock. "Just for fun?" she asked. ----------- Gossips & Jokes http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1785960 Sun, 23 Mar 2008 00:56 EST JOKES http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1785958 JOKES To Ladies Sheila, HUGS and BABIE for their laughs... ------- DUE TO LANGUAGE OR WHAT? (Received from my nephew on net. Just for fun. No hints!) An Arabian was interviewed at the US Embassy. Consul: What is your name? Arabian: Abdul Aziz.   Consul: Sex? Arabian: Six to twelve times a week. Consul: I mean, male or female? Arabian: Both male and female, sometimes even camels. Consul: Holy cow! Arabian: Yes, cows and dogs too. Consul: Man, isn't it hostile? Arabian: Horse style, dog style, any style. Consul: Oh dear! Arabian: Deer? No deer, they run too fast! (Ha! Ha! Ha!) ------- PLAYING WITH WORDS! I was sitting on our home verandah, when I saw my 17 year-old little sister walking out of the bathroom. She has just arranged and sprayed her hair into a  huge mess, style of a renowned rock singer - and was met by my mother who has just come back up from the supermarket. "What has you done to your hair?" Mom demanded. "I've just teased it", my sister replied, smiling at her own smart language. "Teased?" Mom snapped back. "You've driven it insane!" ------- Gossips & Jokes http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1785958 Sun, 23 Mar 2008 00:43 EST A TRUE STORY OF GHOSTS http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1777214 A TRUE STORY OF GHOSTS      In dedication to my new friends      Mai, Sally      Jazzie, Yaqun, Shan, è¿Ÿ, Rebecarebecu, Khaingsu      and all my friends. Ten years before, I was acquainted with a young girl, named V. , who was teaching music in a local elementary school. After a certain time, I knew she was a good player of Dan Tranh, a vietnamese 16-chord zither, so I had talked with her about  this subject a lot. She was very sincere, nice and gentle, and we became close friends and she invited me to drop by her home and see her, when I had time and opportunities. One evening, as I wandered around and got tired, I realized that I was passing close to her house, and I decided to come to visit her. But as the house was located in a complex quarter with several crossing alleys, I had some difficulty in finding it. Then I heard a voice calling my name "Here, Mr. Ly!"... It was my friend, who was standing at the threshold of a small house some 30m away, smiling at me. I told her jokingly as we're entering past the doorstep, "Your sixth sense  is excellent!" She smiled with her nice smile, "It's no instinct! I do know you come." I smiled back, and said with a clear doubt, "How's that?" She answered, "I was playing on my zither, then one cord was broken and I knew someone close to me was coming!" I have heard about these cases when an musical instrument got its string broken as someone was eavesdropping to it, or when some close people was coming. So as we talked about this subject, I came to tell her about a poem of the Chinese poet Li Pai describing a boat passing between two cliffs. It was moving with a speed so great that the cries of the monkey on the two riverbanks were just heard of within a second then passed out away. I said, "When someone tried to play this poem on his flute, the tone was so high that the flute was broken in two!" V. replied, "Yes, but mostly, that is the melodies which can have such impacts. You surely know about those old legendary musical melodies which could bring forth birds... or bring about rains and storms..." She looked at me, "Have you ever heard about the melodies which can bring back the dead... I mean ghosts... the melodies that the ghosts loved and would come to hear? I HAVE! I witnessed it with my eyes!" So that late evening, in her cozy room, V. told me about the strange night, when she witnessed some ghosts coming to listen to a kind of mysterious music. Here is her story... "When I was a student, I boarded a little house in a city of the Central Part to attend my university classes. I was fond of playing Zither so I got a lot of acquaintances among people like me. I knew a number of new things from these people about techniques, anecdotes and legends of our traditional music and instruments. Then I heard of that strange and mysterious woman who was a master of 16-chord Zither and the famous monochord of Dan Bau of ours. Rumors had it that her house was haunted, and every time she played her monochord, she would draw the ghosts come to her house. I tried to get in contact with her. It was not easy. But after a certain time, I got her invitation to come to her home. I went there right away. Her house was located in a deserted area, surrounded by thick bamboos. It had a gloomy look. But when I entered her room, it was clean, cozy and nice. After some weeks, when I got close enough to her, I asked her about all the rumor on the mystery of her music... about the ghosts coming to hear her playing the Monocord. She hesitated at first, then she told me that this house twenty years ago belonged to a music teacher living alone and her mother was her best student. When the lady died, she left her house to her favorite student. Then her mother taught her that music and had told her not to play it in this very house, in the nights of full moon, for there were ghosts who would come to listen to it. She said pensively, "You know my dear, I have played this music several times, not much, but not so few. I sensed that there were some invisible people coming in here. Maybe you wont believe me, but among those who came listening, there's a person, a woman, who always came alone, and I can sense that was her, without any doubt. It seems I have some relation with that woman. Every time she comes, I play my best for her, and I don't know why, I cry every time she is here..." I listened all that with much curiosity, a little sadness and a little fear... but I was young and curious, as well as obstinate... ( V. smiled)... so I held on asking her to play that music, and let me come to hear with "her" ghosts. She said, "Ok, young girl, if you are not scared, come over here at Tuesday next week, it's the 15th night of lunar year, and let's see if there's something happen." When the awaited night came at last, I went to the lady's home since nightfall, bringing with me some food and cakes to share with her. She thanked me, ate with me, and we had some talks with each other. Then as midnight was drawing near, she lead me into her own sitting-room, where she would play her music. She closed all the doors and windows, pulled down the curtains. Then she lighted two big candles, burned some aloe wood in the incense-burner, and put out all lights except these two candles. Then we both sat there waiting, no one spoke a word. When the wall clock finished knocking its twelve hours, she began to play her monochord. It was superb. As it went further and further, the tune become more and more sorrowful, yet very sweet. At a certain point I was lost in the sounds of the music when I suddenly felt something happened. I looked. The curtain was trembling, then slightly pushed aside, as if someone was passing through it. I sensed very clearly that THERE WAS SOMEONE in the room... as clearly as we can sense the presence of somebody, though we dont see them, when they are close to us in the dark. Then I sensed that someone was sitting down by my side, and I had a feeling of chill running across my spine. I looked at my lady friend. Her face was as white as a paper as she went on playing her music. Everything was perfectly silent, except for the music. At times I thought I heard some strange sounds as the sobbing sounds. As if someone was weeping from a far distance... Then the melodies come to an end. When the final sounds was still vibrating in the air, I heard a long sigh, a long heavy sigh, sad and desolate, which made all my hair stand on end! Then the curtain was trembling, and pushed aside. Someone was leaving the room. I looked at my lady friend again. Tears were running down her cheeks. She seemed extremely exhausted. I wanted to stay with her that night. But she thanked me and said she wanted to stay alone. So I went back home on my bike. Then I was graduated, and I left the town. I had come two times to see her and say good bye, but she was not in. I never saw her back again." V. had told me this story. She is a real person, and this story is true. If ever she read these words, may her know that I have been often thinking of her... Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1777214 Sun, 24 Feb 2008 22:43 EST THE JADE HEART http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1776477 THE JADE HEART There is an old legend in my country about a great love that was crystallized into a heart of jade. One of our most talented musical composer wrote a song for it. This story is put in as a greetings to my new friends Mai, Sally, Hustuft, MEEH, Ephyoe, Yaqun,  Shan, â™¥â™¥ Î²ÅœÐÅƒÅ¤ â™¥â™¥, Bianca, Nicole, Carine, Kris, Lavinia, LoVeLy_LaDy, Celia, Dianita, Jazzie and my old friend Matavee. Once upon a time...      "There was once a night,      when all the musical instruments were chanting their melodies,      and the flowers forgetting their withering time      when the white clouds were flowing in search of their kins      and the human heart was sobbing in its closed place of luxurious rooms."        (song) A beautiful Princess heard from her palace a distant voice singing a sweet song. The voice was so nice, sweet yet so lonely that she took compassion, then became fond of it.      "There was once a night, listening to that song,      she lovingly gave away her fragrant fan,      sending her kiss to be blown with the wind to the one      whose voice was hovering over the waves of the river..." From then on, every night, she was impatiently waiting to hear that voice singing to her the complaint of a love in life...     "It sounds then it fades out, Strange Singer, your complaint that I am      listening to now!      I love you, singing somewhere on the cold river in the dark!      Who loves me, sitting here in the sad palace, at this late hour in the night?" Then she was sick, lovesick with the stranger who sang outside of her walls.     "Missing you, with my secret feelings buried in pain,      my eyelashes fade away, my hair languish like streams of tears      and my lips lose their vivid freshness..." Her father, that powerful Prime Minister of the Court, gave orders to find the man and bring him over. Then the princess saw the man, a poor and ugly fisherman, named Truong Chi, and all her dreams crumbled. The fisherman was drawn away. But that poor man, once he saw the lovely princess, who was the very image of the girl we would all love, at any time within our life through centuries, seeing her, with all her charm, her loveliness, her gentleness of a young heart, he fell in love with her - with a profound love beyond all consideration.     "There was once a night, on a solitary boat ,     a man with a love that was denied and hindered by life,     when would ever his sorrow and bitterness be over?" Then one night, when the full moon was at its most radiant brightness, the man let his boat sunk into the river. His heart, with all of its warmth and sincerity of a profound love, was crystallized into a precious stone - a jade. A jewelry artisan got that jade and sculptured it into a beautiful tea cup. By a curious turn of circumstances or destiny, the precious cup was sold to His Highness Prime Minister, who gave it to his cherished daughter.     "How many years have passed!...      How many pains have got faded!" One night, a maid brought forth that cup to the Princess.      "Here was the tray with the glass of Truong Chi's heart!      For a tea party in that merry home of the princess...      Just as it was poured in with water, an image was seen      the image of a fisherman on his boat rowing round the glass!      and there was heard from some distance a sad voice      singing that old complaint of an impossible love." and the Princess cried.      "Oh you, what a worsening of love! I have formerly betrayed you !      Let me repay you now with my tears as my last greetings to you!" Her teardrops were falling into the cup, and it was broken into pieces...      "Thinking of you who exist no more,      Raising that glass to my lips      and sending my love to that far away sky of yours      I had let my tears fall onto your melancholic love song." From generation to generation, this story has been told at bedtimes, and has become a legend which brews so many songs, many theatrical plays among our people.      "Oh love! It has been paid! Someone has been loved by somone,      Tears have been presented as a gift! The jade heart has been broken!      Its pieces have been transformed into a song lulling my softened heart!" Almost all people in my country know that story - The legend of Truong Chi's heart of jade. It is not a complaint as it can look. It's a praise to the worth of true love.                                                     ----------- Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1776477 Fri, 22 Feb 2008 13:42 EST JOKES http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1776403 JOKES To  Little Tink Angel       J@ckelyn, nody, Hugs, doubleH       and all my friends. Relax!                     ------ STUMBLED! Late last year, two German young lady friends of mine came to see me in my city. We took a lazy stroll through some quiet streets of Saigon, then they started to chat in their mother tongue while looking at the shoes of a woman who was just passing by. In order to take part in the conversation, I asked in our common English, "Are you talking about that woman's horrible ugly shoes?" "No," replied one. "We were just saying that they're exactly the same as mine." I just bought an apartment and began repainting it. I had applied the second coat of sunny yellow to the bathroom when a friend dropped in. Proudly, I showed him over the rooms, commenting, "I have to paint the bathroom first." "I can see why," said my friend, "I'd paint it too, if it were that color." My lady friend complained to me that her neighbors were practicing bird calls with whistles. She said she had told them to keep the noise down, but to no avail. So she was going to report to the police. A deputy was sent to her house the next day. He located the source of the noise. It was a bird. AND SMART STEPS As we kids always made a mess at everything in the house, my mother had  to work hard cleaning and cleaning. My father, who according to his habitude, never did housework to help her, but he resented that. So one afternoon as she just cleaned the floor and was cleaning other things, we returned home from school and came charging into the kitchen to eat, my father said, "Now, if anyone spills anything on the floor, they have to wipe it up and then spend an hour in their room." Without hesitation, my Mom deliberately poured some of her coffee on the floor, wiped it up, and headed straight upstairs. We didn't see her again for an hour. My sister-in-law admitted to being a less than fastidious housekeeper. My brother was not so happy about that, but he got no chance to say it out. One evening he returned home from work, walked into the kitchen and said, "You know, dear, I can write my name in the dust on the mantel." My sister-in-law turned to him and sweetly replied, "Well, darling, that's why I married an University graduate." AND FUNNY STEPS It was Christmas and the judge was in a benevolent mood as he question the prisoner. "What are you charged with?" he asked. "Doing my Christmas shopping early," replied the defendant. "That's no offense,"said the judge. "How early were you doing this shopping?" "Before the store opened," countered the prisoner.  A woman drove a mini-van filled with a dozen screaming kids through the parking lot, looking for a space. Obviously frazzled, she coasted through a stop sign. "Hey, lady, have you forgotten how to stop?" yell an irate man. She rolled down her window and said, "What make you think these kids are all mine?" Gossips & Jokes http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1776403 Fri, 22 Feb 2008 09:26 EST Maya http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1775183                                                                               MAYA                                       In dedication to                                    my new friends:                         Lady Mai and her friend Sally                                    Lady DoubleH                                     Lady Hustuft                                Lady â™¥â™¥ Î²ÅœÐÅƒÅ¤ â™¥â™¥            and my Indian Sister Megha and her friend Cali    I just read a story about the relativity of time, an old story from  India, that great cradle of our world's and Asian cultures. I like it and I want to tell it, summarized, to you, all my net friends. On one of those hot afternoons, the ascetic Narada is sitting in meditation in the solitude of the forest, when Vishnu comes in the voice of the wind which passes by and makes all the leaves quivered. The God of Preservation of the Universe ( one of the Indian Trinity - Brahma, Vishnu and Siva) asks him what he is looking for to be meditating with such an endeavor in this deserted forest, and Narada replies he wants nothing except to know the secret of MAYA - the illusory world of the senses... Vishnu tells him, "So be it, but go and fetch me some water." The ascetic goes, and reaches the first hamlet. He calls out. A young girl opens a door. Her voice is so sweet, it seems as if a golden noose slips round his neck. Yet the occupants treat him as a member of the family whom they have been long awaiting to return. He has been always one of them. He has forgotten the water. He will marry the girl, and they all expect him to marry her. He has also married the earth, the warm rice-fields, the rising sun, the twilight over the palm roofs, even the pink flame of the little dung fires in the night. He knows all the people, from the acrobats to the usurer in the town with their little common temple with infantile gods. He experiments all the pain, sorrow and joy of living, the happiness in the time of prosperity and the compassion for the smile of the thin children in the years of famine. When his father-in-law dies, he becomes the head of the family. One night during the twelfth year, the periodic floods drown the livestock and carry away the houses. Narada flees through the avalanche of mud, leading two of his children and carrying the third, and supporting his wife. Then the child he is carrying slips from his shoulder. He lets go of the two other and of his wife to pick it up again. These three are carried away in their turn. Then as he is upright gain, he gets felled by an uprooted tree. In the darkness filled with the roar of the sticky flood, he is flung onto a rock by the torrent. When he regains consciousness, he is surrounded by nothing but a sea of mud through which there drift the corpses of trees full of monkeys. He weeps in the fading wind. "My children, my children..." "My child", echoes the voice of the wind become suddenly grave, "where is the water? I have been waiting more than half an hour."   Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1775183 Mon, 18 Feb 2008 01:44 EST The man who shot Liberty Valance http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1773246   The man who shot Liberty Valance I just came across an old country song "The man who shot Liberty Valance", then another - "Sutter's Mill"... all about the West Journey in the USA's history. It's the time when people rushed to that wild unsettled land of the West for a promise land and prosperity. It reminds me of a film that I viewed, long ago, and which i liked very much. I'll try to tell it summarily, as i can, for you, friends of mine, and You. Just for some moment of relax. That was the old-timed famous film "The man who shot Liberty Valance" by Director John Ford, starring , if I remember well, James Stewart, John Wayne, Lee Marvin and the pretty Vera Mills. She was the lovely girl that the two heroes of the story loved and cherished in their own way. One was the young lawyer who came to try establishing a new order of law and justice in that small town of Shinbone -... Ransom Stoddard. The other was the taciturn cowboy Tom Doniphon, living there, but moved away often herding the cattle to far meadows. Ransom and Tom loved that gentle girl Hallie, but Ransom had more opportunities. He boarded her house, taught her law and other things. He was nice, young and handsome, while Tom was stoic, taciturn and harsh. At that time, there reigned in the town the familiar law of the West - the law of the guns. Ransom was confronted with the most dreadful man of the town, the vile gunslinger Liberty Valance. He had been beaten once by Liberty, then saved by Tom, who brought him to the town. He tried to put Liberty in jail by law, and the latter tried to beat him down by his mastery of the gun. ... "When Liberty Valance rode to town The womenfolk would hide, When Liberty Valance walked around The men would step aside Cause the point of a gun was the only law That Liberty understood When it came to shooting straight and fast He was mighty good!..." (Song) There was only a man whom Liberty would fear, that was Tom, but he was almost gone away all the time. So when it came to the showdown, that was just before the election between the two representatives to the state senate. One side was the cattlemen - they hired Valance - who feared a new law would confirm the right of propriety and so would end the state of free land for herding their cattles, and the other side were the townspeople who want to be protected by law, supporting Ransom. The balance weighed down for the townsmen. Liberty challenged Ransom for a gun duel, and he had to accept.   I loved this scene. It was the familiar amazing image of Western films, the deserted streets, the dead silence of the town as everybody stayed inside their closed houses, the two men facing each other in the afternoon sun, and the sound of the wind whistling ... Two gunshots were heard. Everybody rushed out. Liberty lied dead on the ground. Ransom was cheered up as the hero who saved the entire town from its threat. He was elected, became a senator and married Hallie. I remember the scene when Tom heard the news that Liberty Valance has finally been put down. While the crowd was noisily celebrating the death of the wicked Valance, he looked angry, went out of his home, stroke a match, lighted a cigarette, then went onto the main deserted street, and walked off into the night. Some days after, he burned down the house he had built up in order to marry Hallie and left the town. Some twenty years later, I don't remember exactly, at the news of Tom's death, the Senator Ransom and his wife came back from Washington to attend the poor funeral of their old friend. And then Ransom told to his wife and others the truth about that fateful afternoon, when he faced Valance, gun in hand, in that mortal duel which decided everything for the town, as for him and his girl at the time. He told them he didn't fire a single shoot, he couldn't draw his gun as fast as Liberty Valance and was not good to such a degree that could kill Valance.   Now that the real hero was dead, he couldn't keep any more the secrecy of the whole story. Another man, not him, had shot down Valance, had saved him and the town as well. And every body knew who was that man, especially Hallie. It was an excellent film, but it was somehow sad. Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1773246 Mon, 11 Feb 2008 12:55 EST THE LEADER http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1773224  THE LEADER To Great Ladies:       matavee, j@ckelyn, lola, hnady, HUGS      (Just for fun. No hints!... (smile)... Don't kill me.) A man goes into a pet shop looking for extraordinary parrots. The owner leads him to a stall, where he ranges a lot of cages of his favorite parrots, which are also the most expensive ones. "What does it cost, this lovely blue and red one?" the man points to a lush-plumaged parrot which seems to wink at him. "What a choice, dear Sir!" the owner shouts, "that's a female, a wonderful one, Sir! You can have her with just 350 dollars and each beautiful morning she will greet you with loving words from four languages!" "I don't want female loving words," the irascible customer said, "They're never true! let's drop it!" "How much this one? What can it do?" he points to another, a luxurious red yellow parrot which is looking proudly at him. "It's a treasure, dear Sir. This one will fill up your idle time. He speaks five languages so fluently that he can talk with you about a number of subjects. He costs only 500 dollars Sir. A real friend, I can say that!" "Hum," the customer cut off, "he will make me nervous with his arguments. I don't want him. And besides, your two parrots are too expensive!" Finally, he points to a puny parrot which is staring at him with undisguised scorn, "How about this little one? It must be much cheaper!" "God Almighty! No sir! I daren't say!... He's more expensive. He will cost you 2000 dollars." "What?" the customer rolls his eyes, "How many languages he can speak?" "None Sir! He can speak no language!" "What?" the man is bewildered, "so what are his extraordinary talents?" "None Sir! He has no talent! He's a normal commonplace parrot!" "What?" the man is very confused, "so what's the reason he is so expensive, man? What he has in superiority among them all? "Dear Sir! He doesn't need all that. He's the leader." Gossips & Jokes http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1773224 Mon, 11 Feb 2008 11:22 EST JOKES http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1771910                         JOKES To  My little dear Angel tinker bell       Ladies  j@ckelyn, matavee, nody,       rubina, lola,  hnady, HUGS, ionita                         ----  BIG CAREER The School of Agriculture's admission registrar was interviewing a prospective student, "Why have you chosen this career?" he asked. "I dream of making a million dollars in farming, like my father," the student replied. "Your father made a million dollars in farming?" said the impressed registrar. "No," replied the applicant. "But he always dreamed of it." GREAT DAD "My Dad got Prince Charles' autograph," a boy boasted to his classmates. "That's nothing," snorted another boy. "My Dad got Adam's apple!" FUR AND LEATHER (Overheard) "People are more violently opposed to fur than to leather because it's safer to harass rich women then motorcycle gangs."  UH! A man walks into a shop and say to the owner, "You probably don't remember me, but about five years ago I was broke. I came in here and asked you for 20 dollars, and you gave it to me." The shop owner smiles and replies, "Yes, I remember." The man says, "Want to do it again?" When Frank returned home from playing golf with his new friend Fred, his wife Anne asked him, "Why don't you play with Ernie anymore?" Said Frank, "Would you play with someone who swears when they missed the hole, cheated with the score, throw their clubs  around and move the ball?" "I suppose I wouldn't," replied Anne. "Well, neither will Ernie, " replied Frank. A woman says to a bank manager, "I'd like to talk with you about a loan." "Great!" the manager replies. "How much can you give us?" Gossips & Jokes http://hk.zorpia.com/gialy/journal/1771910 Tue, 05 Feb 2008 17:44 EST