1st topic:
What matters to you, and why?
I am neither a freethinker nor am I an atheist. There are many philosophical disputations about the existence and belief in God. Some people don't believe in Him, because they think that He does not exist, and vice versa. Some people feel that he exists, but they remain not to be bound by any religion as they see unfit the set of rules created by that particular religion, or even all religions. And at least one person believes in the religion he and many generations before him has followed, Sikhism, but doesn't believe in the existence of God. Me. I don't strictly follow any particular religion, but I am a Sikh (My grandmother 75 years old , she has been a priestess for almost 40 years and still is, I really don't want to give her a heart attack). I feel that at most, religion is a moral class for society, to allow us to differentiate between right and wrong. Of course, we are all at liberty to make our own decisions, whether right or wrong. But I do not want to avoid doing things that are considered wrong because of the fear of damnation, rather I want to avoid doing something wrong because a part of my mind tells me it is wrong, and this part of my mind come from my moral class-my religion. So to answer the question, what matters to me is faith. I have faith in God and pray to Him when in need of help or when I am nervous about something, and because I believe that he will help me, I am able to confront my problems, even though God could have done nothing. Our minds often plays tricks on us, and I can always convince myself that if I hit rock bottom, God will never give on me as I will never give up on him. My faith in Him helped me when my father passed away 5 weeks before the most important examinations in my high school life and I was underprepared. I excelled with straight A's. I call Him Babaji, and whenever I pray, I just ask Him to make life at the very least manageable.
2nd topic:
Future roommate
I actually have problems describing myself to others, in fear of either under or over evaluating myself, so I'm just going to write about the first night with my ex-roommate. It was my second year in that school, and Jason and I were already close friends, but this was the first night of us being roommates. Our trials were coming up, so he was studying at his desk whilst I was studying on my bed. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something green and fast flashing past me. There was this huge grasshopper flying across our room and I was freaking out! Mind you, I'm not a coward, but if things start flying, they have this amazing tendency to hit me. Naturally, I hid under the covers while Jason was already on the bed laughing his head off. The grasshopper landed on the wall across my bed, just 5 feet away from me. Jason took my squash racket and tried nudging it towards the door, but it just flew to the other side of the room. Suddenly I gained enough courage to try to scare it off, but of course I was going to use my squash racket. I kept nudging it whilst keeping my distance, as if I was trying to pick up a 6-foot cobra with a stick. It kept flying under beds and behind cupboards. Finally I managed to get the grasshopper on my squash racket .It has this majestic look on its face, just as Simba had when he was standing on Pride Rock. Our room had two doors, one at the front to the corridor and one at the back, to the balcony. Slowly, I moved outside the back of our room and swung the racket into the open air; the grasshopper flew out, returned back and hit me on the leg! Again, Jason had his knees on the ground, his eyes tearing up. I picked it up again from the floor and moved back into my room. "What are you doing? Don't you want it out?" asked Jason. "NO, I MUST I FACE MY FEAR!" I shouted half-heartedly. I moved across my room to the corridor and closed the door, my racket still keeping the door ajar. Slowly I pulled the racket and closed the door, leaving the grasshopper outside. It was already close to our lights out time, so me and Jason were already tired and flung ourselves on the bed. Before we slept off, Jason just sighed and said "Dude, it's going to be a fun term."
3rd topic:
Intellectual vitality
I could hear my heart pounding loudly in the quiet bathroom, the air still damp and heavy from the shower I just took. I looked at the reflection in my mirror and decided that I might as well do it now then procrastinate any longer. I expelled as much air from my lungs as I could and stepped on it. The scale rotated clockwise quickly and stopped, the meter showing the digits 109. Sigh, 109 kg at the age of 18. Yes, one might say I have a 'slightly' bigger build compared to my scrawny Asian friends. Since 'that label' had been placed on me, I always had a grudge on mirrors and the whole idea of reflections. I hated the fact that one's reflection immediately creates this identity among society, and that the mind automatically groups people according to their exterior looks. People change their reflections so that they are better accepted in society, and in the process they change themselves as well. To quote Robert H.Schuller, "I am not what I think I am. I am not what you think I am. I am what I think you think I am." But I asked myself, why should I succumb to society's perception of a good self-image? Being fat made me slightly insecure with myself, but my shyness made me into a good listener. I learned how to take feedback from others and listen to their ideas and opinions. My friends see me as this optimistic and jolly teddy bear. I take pride in myself when I am able to swim or jog the same amount of laps as my friends do. I no longer judged people by their looks, on the contrary, I admired those who showed their true identity. I hope that society can remove this compartmentalization of people so those who are fat, short, weird or physically disabled can live free lives. For example, I am around 6 feet and 3 inches tall, which categorizes my BMI as 'slightly overweight'. My broad shoulders make me look like a bouncer than a potato couch. Read my essay again and you might have a different image of me in your mind.
Thanks ahead for any comments or critique :)
What matters to you, and why?
I am neither a freethinker nor am I an atheist. There are many philosophical disputations about the existence and belief in God. Some people don't believe in Him, because they think that He does not exist, and vice versa. Some people feel that he exists, but they remain not to be bound by any religion as they see unfit the set of rules created by that particular religion, or even all religions. And at least one person believes in the religion he and many generations before him has followed, Sikhism, but doesn't believe in the existence of God. Me. I don't strictly follow any particular religion, but I am a Sikh (My grandmother 75 years old , she has been a priestess for almost 40 years and still is, I really don't want to give her a heart attack). I feel that at most, religion is a moral class for society, to allow us to differentiate between right and wrong. Of course, we are all at liberty to make our own decisions, whether right or wrong. But I do not want to avoid doing things that are considered wrong because of the fear of damnation, rather I want to avoid doing something wrong because a part of my mind tells me it is wrong, and this part of my mind come from my moral class-my religion. So to answer the question, what matters to me is faith. I have faith in God and pray to Him when in need of help or when I am nervous about something, and because I believe that he will help me, I am able to confront my problems, even though God could have done nothing. Our minds often plays tricks on us, and I can always convince myself that if I hit rock bottom, God will never give on me as I will never give up on him. My faith in Him helped me when my father passed away 5 weeks before the most important examinations in my high school life and I was underprepared. I excelled with straight A's. I call Him Babaji, and whenever I pray, I just ask Him to make life at the very least manageable.
2nd topic:
Future roommate
I actually have problems describing myself to others, in fear of either under or over evaluating myself, so I'm just going to write about the first night with my ex-roommate. It was my second year in that school, and Jason and I were already close friends, but this was the first night of us being roommates. Our trials were coming up, so he was studying at his desk whilst I was studying on my bed. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something green and fast flashing past me. There was this huge grasshopper flying across our room and I was freaking out! Mind you, I'm not a coward, but if things start flying, they have this amazing tendency to hit me. Naturally, I hid under the covers while Jason was already on the bed laughing his head off. The grasshopper landed on the wall across my bed, just 5 feet away from me. Jason took my squash racket and tried nudging it towards the door, but it just flew to the other side of the room. Suddenly I gained enough courage to try to scare it off, but of course I was going to use my squash racket. I kept nudging it whilst keeping my distance, as if I was trying to pick up a 6-foot cobra with a stick. It kept flying under beds and behind cupboards. Finally I managed to get the grasshopper on my squash racket .It has this majestic look on its face, just as Simba had when he was standing on Pride Rock. Our room had two doors, one at the front to the corridor and one at the back, to the balcony. Slowly, I moved outside the back of our room and swung the racket into the open air; the grasshopper flew out, returned back and hit me on the leg! Again, Jason had his knees on the ground, his eyes tearing up. I picked it up again from the floor and moved back into my room. "What are you doing? Don't you want it out?" asked Jason. "NO, I MUST I FACE MY FEAR!" I shouted half-heartedly. I moved across my room to the corridor and closed the door, my racket still keeping the door ajar. Slowly I pulled the racket and closed the door, leaving the grasshopper outside. It was already close to our lights out time, so me and Jason were already tired and flung ourselves on the bed. Before we slept off, Jason just sighed and said "Dude, it's going to be a fun term."
3rd topic:
Intellectual vitality
I could hear my heart pounding loudly in the quiet bathroom, the air still damp and heavy from the shower I just took. I looked at the reflection in my mirror and decided that I might as well do it now then procrastinate any longer. I expelled as much air from my lungs as I could and stepped on it. The scale rotated clockwise quickly and stopped, the meter showing the digits 109. Sigh, 109 kg at the age of 18. Yes, one might say I have a 'slightly' bigger build compared to my scrawny Asian friends. Since 'that label' had been placed on me, I always had a grudge on mirrors and the whole idea of reflections. I hated the fact that one's reflection immediately creates this identity among society, and that the mind automatically groups people according to their exterior looks. People change their reflections so that they are better accepted in society, and in the process they change themselves as well. To quote Robert H.Schuller, "I am not what I think I am. I am not what you think I am. I am what I think you think I am." But I asked myself, why should I succumb to society's perception of a good self-image? Being fat made me slightly insecure with myself, but my shyness made me into a good listener. I learned how to take feedback from others and listen to their ideas and opinions. My friends see me as this optimistic and jolly teddy bear. I take pride in myself when I am able to swim or jog the same amount of laps as my friends do. I no longer judged people by their looks, on the contrary, I admired those who showed their true identity. I hope that society can remove this compartmentalization of people so those who are fat, short, weird or physically disabled can live free lives. For example, I am around 6 feet and 3 inches tall, which categorizes my BMI as 'slightly overweight'. My broad shoulders make me look like a bouncer than a potato couch. Read my essay again and you might have a different image of me in your mind.
Thanks ahead for any comments or critique :)
