Concerns over the Future of the Malaysian Economy

Between the Strait of Malacca and the South China Sea lies a small potato-shaped strip of land called Peninsula Malaysia. With a rather small population of 28 million people, this little parcel of land isba place where most Malaysians and I call home. On the surface, Malaysia is a place where everyone would like to live. Barring the occasional political happenings and some minor quarrels among the three major races, most Malaysians live in a rather nirvana-like environment, free from natural disasters like volcano eruptions and earthquakes.

In terms of its economy, Malaysia seemed to be doing well too. After the Asian Financial Crisis in 1998, policy makers in Malaysia opted for medium degree protectionist policies in order to provide a safe incubator for local businesses. This brought into being capital controls and the local currency called the Malaysian ringgit was no longer traded internationally. The result of these actions was a rather highly insulated economy that would no longer be exposed to attacks from ‘evil’ speculators and their like.

The Malaysian policy makers also went one step ahead in order to rebuild the Malaysian economy from the ashes of the 1997 crisis. In order to promote local exports, policy makers consistently kept the Malaysia ringgit undervalued so that Malaysian exports would be relatively cheaper than exports from other countries. Foreign low-skilled workers were also encouraged to work in Malaysia to create a business environment where the cost of doing business would be low. Besides that, the Malaysian government also introduced a series of subsidies on key essential items to maintain a low level of inflation.

This was of course all well and good skin deep. Many policy makers considered it a success when the Malaysian economy looked more vibrant than ever with a huge buffer of international foreign reserves and a high level of export surpluses over the years. However, looks can be deceiving. In the midst of economic growth was also a high degree of change in income inequality. For the majority of Malaysians, their real income have not grown for the last 10 years. Coupled together with that, is the fact that Malaysia has persistent budget deficit over the last decade! While Malaysian exports were a healthy surplus, a deeper look into our economic data reveals that we are still highly dependent on the export of natural resources like crude palm oil and crude oil.

Malaysia’s problems do not stop there. Subsidies and price controls mean that the local economy lacks flexibility. The protectionist policies implemented have also fostered complacent local industries that have lost their competitiveness over the last decade because they were never pressured to move up the value chain. More detailed analysis on Malaysia’s economic data also reveals that the country’s gross domestic product (GDP) have not been able to exceed pre-1997 levels despite the ability of other regional economies to do so. The end of the line is the increasing intensity of highly educated individuals leaving the country in search for better paying jobs.

In my opinion, Malaysians need to rethink their present condition of the Malaysian economy. While it is right to say that Malaysia was not  as badly affected by the U.S. sub-prime mortgage crisis, the slowdown in the U.S. economy has also affected Malaysian exports. Globalisation, whether we like it or not, is a force to be reckoned with and Malaysia cannot be totally insulated from the global economy. Evidence of this can be seen clearly during the food and fuel inflation we experienced in 2008. Despite how we tried to protect local institutions, Malaysia is still a net importer of food!

There is however, a light at the end of the tunnel. Countries like Holland and Singapore are good examples of economies that are highly successful despite their small population. One of the reasons for their success is their willingness to liberalise more sectors of their economies and focus consistently on economic fundamentals. Among these are the importance of good basic infrastructures like telecommunications and public transportation systems that would help bring a higher level of economic activity. At present, these two areas of found to be particularly lacking in Malaysia. In my opinion, policy makers should look to these two areas as a source of future economic developments.

Ee Suen Zheng

(A very concerned Malaysian)

Healing Beneath the Moonlight

In such irony,

Do one feel pleasure.

With such misery,

Under such measure.

_

For the air you breathe,

Is coupled with pain,

And you itch to sneeze,

And you feel too faint.

_

It becomes hard to sate,

Under such cold a place.

Much less appreciate,

The moon’s graceful face.

_

Yet one feels such serenity,

On a night filled with such beauty.

The Dawn of Tomorrow

As the setting sun lights the evening,

So must today give way to yesterday.

Yet despair not the dawn of tomorrow,

For time will bury all pain and sorrow!

~ Ee Suen Zheng

Chapter V: I Think, Therefore I Am?

Previous Chapters:

Chapter I: Reflections in a Broken Mirror

Chapter II: Unexpected Encounters and Unwanted Emotions

Chapter III: Seek and Ye Shall Find

Chapter IV: Every Why has a Wherefore

-

‘The Butterfly Dream’

-

Once upon a time, I, Chuang Tzŭ, dreamt that I was a butterfly, flitting around and enjoying myself. I had no idea I was Chuang Tzŭ. Then suddenly I woke up and was Chuang Tzŭ again. But I cannot tell, had I been Chuang Tzŭ dreaming I was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming I was now Chuang Tzŭ?

~ The Book of Chuang Tzŭ

-

I sat across the woman called Maia Clow. I knew my hands were gripping the sides of the armchair a little too forceful. I could see that my knuckles turned white and my tendons strained as my nails tried to dig into the wood of the furniture. I was clearly tense and nervous to the core. She had given me a choice, Maia. And I felt that I was free to choose either way. But choices are something that once made cannot be unmade. I have seen people that were haunted for the rest of their lives by the choices that they picked. It was like unconsciously mixing a bitter concoction and forcing one’s self to drink it. Not an experience that I thought I would enjoy.

“I want to know,” I stated firmly. I think at that time I tried to convince myself as much as I was trying to convince Maia. ‘Curiosity is endless, restless, and useless’ they say. But curiosity at that moment was a too powerful emotion to be ignored.

She stared straight into my eyes as if trying to read the inner workings of my mind. Then slowly she looked away as if there was something heavy to consider. Her gaze betrayed that her mind was far away in a pensive manner. Although her face was serene, I could see that she was in deep thought. Then she turned back, eyes alert in concentration and said, “Nothing escapes human criticism and resentment, Jakob. You must be ready to empty your mind of existing opinions and beliefs before you can accept what I am about to tell you. Only an empty cup can be filled.”

I choose the next words carefully, “I knew what I saw. It was something that I thought didn’t exist. And since I have no explanation for it, I think I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt for now.”

“You were right in the sense that three-headed dogs do not exist,” begun Maia in a calm tone. “The beast that you saw and that my daughter killed was not something that exists in flesh and blood. At least not in the way that you think.” A sense of relief swept over me. No three-headed dogs in reality. It was so good so far. I also didn’t miss the fact that she had indirectly told me that Clare was her daughter. ‘They don’t look alike at all,’ was the first thought that entered my mind. But I nodded my head as if to signal Maia to carry on.

“The creature was a product of your mind. A creation of the sheer force of mind. A figment of your imagination. A mere illusion generated through you and by you.”

“You mean to say that I was being delusional?!” I stammered. My body leaned forward like a tree bent by the wind. I was pretty sure that I was absolutely conscious when I saw that creature. I remembered seeing its body and I the fear that I felt. I even shuddered at the notion of reliving that experience.

“That is not what I meant. The beast is real so long as you believe it is real. So long as your mind feeds the apparition with form, features, and is your case consciousness.”

I could not believe what I was hearing. My eyebrows had moved closer making my forehead crease with disturbance.

“You see, Jakob,” continued Maia in a firm but faint whisper. “You are special. You have an ability like Clare and me to materialise the objects of your thoughts. This ability gives your ideas physical appearances that you are able to channel into reality. It is a most rare gift. People like us are perhaps only one in a hundred thousand. And even that is a rough estimate. But it is a dangerous gift nonetheless, for you must master your mind before it masters you.”

“You must be kidding me! An ability to materialise thoughts?! Such things only happen in science fiction,” I said aloud in disbelief, gripping the armchair harder than before. “You can’t be telling me that my dream of a three-headed dog brought such a beast to life? That is preposterous!”

I saw a faint smile on Maia’s face just before the lights of the room started to flicker. Then I felt as though a wave of unseen current went through me from the front of my body to the back. The room had suddenly become darker. It was as though something was preventing the orange light from shining as brightly as before. Then in front of me I saw tiny dots of dust gathering just above the table that separated Maia and me. They were floating, suspended in mid-air. Then they began to take form. Slowly I could see something straight was emerging. It was rather blurry, rather transparent but becoming more opaque by the second. Then from the stick came a leaf. And then another leaf. And another. Then a flower bud came into being before full red petals emerged. It was all so ethereal, so magical. At last, right in front of me was a rose! A red rose. A flower that had emerged out of nothing! I instinctively reached out and took the rose in my fingers only to release it and wince back in pain as the flower’s thorns pierced my skin.

“Do be careful, there is no rose without a thorn,” said Maia still with a subtle smile on her face. It was obviously an advice that came rather too late. There was already a blot of red blood seeping through the skin of my index finger. When I looked up at Maia, the rose was gone! I felt my eyes darting back and forth in search for the red flower. “The pain remains, but the beauty disappears,” whispered Maia in a regretful tone, “look at your finger.” I brought my index finger back into view and gasp in awe when I found that there was no blood! The skin of my finger was still smooth and unbroken. It was as though the whole incident was a lie, an illusion. A magical mirage. But I could still feel the pain in my finger. That was not a lie. The pain was real even though the flower was not.

“How in the world did you do that?!” I was filled with a sense of wonder. I felt like a small boy being shown a toy he had never seen before, elated with curiosity and amazement. Oblivious to the sense of pain that came from my finger.

“How well do you know the philosopher Plato?” asked Maia with a sly smile.

“Plato?”

The secret story of China’s new super-resource

The movie Avatar was not only a big hit in the block office but also a solemn reminder as to what would happen if human beings continue to mine resources at an unprecedented rate. In history, the Europeans once destroyed the American Red Indians over land and resources. That could and would happen again.

Yet this time around it is not the Europeans that are having the upper hand but China, the new global manufacturing workshop of the world. Most people do not know that China has a global monopoly of rare-earth production and are threatening to cut supply to the Western world. This is a move that could seriously hamper the industries that are involved in manufacturing and environmental friendly technologies.

But what are rare-earth metals and why are they important in manufacturing and green tech? Rare-earth metals were discovered in the 19^th century in Sweden and they were believed to be very uncommon elements. It was only in later days that scientists discovered that we have an abundance of these elements located within the Earth’s crust. However due to the high extraction costs, only places with rich deposits of rare-earth metals are deemed feasible enough to conduct mining activities.

Rare-earth metals are prized for their high electrical conductivity. Their uses are widespread and highly important in our era of information technology. Their uses include the production of low energy light bulbs, wind turbines, hybrid cars like Toyota Prius, mobile phones, computers, Ipods, LCD screens, washing machines, digital cameras, X-ray machines, missile guiding systems, space rockets, shielding for nuclear reactors, fibre optics and earthquake monitoring equipments. Many of these items we now consider as indispensible and non-substitutable.

Yet the reality is that many people remain oblivious to the fact that China controls around 97 percent of the world’s production of rare-earth metals. The world’s largest single mine for these metals is located at Baiyun Obo, in Inner Mongolia. This mine itself is the largest single source of rare-earth metals and meets up to 77 percent of the World’s demand. In 2008 itself, China supplied 139,000 tonnes of rare-earth worldwide!

Rare-earth metals however, are not without drawbacks. The process of isolating different chemical elements from each other requires the extensive use of boiling acid and other dangerous chemicals which are highly detrimental to the environment. Miners at the Baiyun Obo mine are paid five times the amount of money compared to normal miners and they only have to work for nine months every year. But these miners face the danger of contracting cancer due to the overexposure to radioactive material. The immediate environment around the mine is also reported to be a toxic wasteland that reeks with poison and sulphur. This is the price of progress.

The implications of China’s control of rare-earth metals are very important to forecast some of the events that would happen in the near future. Economically, industries involved in the use of rare-earth metals accounts to around 5 percent of global GDP. This figure is poise to rise rapidly due to the ever-increasing use of semiconductors. The worldwide consumption is expected to reach 200,000 tonnes a year in the coming days.

China however, has cut export quotas for the past 3 years claiming that it needs its rare-earth resources for its own increasingly high-tech industrial output and is pressuring the West to mine its own rare-earth deposits. The problem is that the low-prices of these resources coming from China are making it not viable for other countries to begin extracting rare-earth. Furthermore, health and safety regulations in the West are more stringent and would also be the cause for higher extraction costs outside of China. To date, there are only two new rare-earth mining projects in the United States and Australia. Neither would be operational until 2014 and would be on a smaller scale as compared to the mine in Inner Mongolia.

China’s economic architect Deng Xiaoping once commented 20 years ago that although there is oil in the Middle East, there is rare-earth in China. Considering the importance of this new resource, Deng may be right in comparing the importance of rare-earth with oil. The future is still very uncertain in light of this revelation of China’s dominance over rare-earth metals but look to it as the source of new global conflict in the 21^st century.

Below is a list of elements contained within rare-earth:

Element	Symbol	Details
Neodymium	(Nd)	Used to manufacture lasers and neodymium salts are used to colour glass.
Cerium	(Ce)	Used in alloys, catalysts, nuclear fuels, glass and as the core of carbon electrodes in arc lamps.
Praseodymium	(Pr)	Used in carbon electrodes for arc lamps and its green salts are used in coloured glasses, ceramics, and enamels.
Lanthanum	(La)	Used as a catalysts in cracking crude oil, in alloys, and to manufacture optical glasses.
Samarium	(Sm)	Used in carbon arc lamps, as a neutron absorber in nuclear reactors, and as a catalysts. Some samarium alloys are used in making powerful permanent magnets.
Promethium	(Pm)	Used in phosphorous paints, x-rays, nuclear-powered batteries for space vehicles.
Gadolinium	(Gd)	Used in neutron absorption and to manufacture certain alloys.
Dysprosium	(Dy)	Its capacity to absorb neutrons makes it important for nuclear technology. Its compounds are also used in lasers.
Terbium	(Tb)	Used in semiconductors while sodium terbium borate is used in lasers.
Erbium	(Er)	Used in alloys. Erbium oxide is used as a pink colorant for glass.
Europium	(Eu)	Used to manufacture television screens, lasers, and in control rods in nuclear reactors.
Holmium	(Ho)	Few commercial uses.
Thulium	(Tm)	Used in arc lighting and portable x-ray units.
Ytterbium	(Yb)	Used to produce steel, and other alloys.
Lutetium	(Lu)	No commercial uses.
Scandium	(Sc)	Used as a radioactive tracer and in nickel alkaline storage batteries.
Yttrium	(Y)	Used in phosphorous and communication devices such as colour television tubes and superconducting ceramics.

Chapter IV: Every Why has a Wherefore

Previous Chapters:

Chapter I: Reflections in a Broken Mirror

Chapter II: Unexpected Encounters and Unwanted Emotions

Chapter III: Seek and Ye Shall Find

-

I was brought back to Surrey Street by the girl who identified herself as Clare. We stopped in front of a row of shops located just beside the town hall. The name of the establishment was called the Sheffield Scene. It was a small shop and it was very old. So old that the brown stones of the building had begun to turn black as a result of corrosion over the years. The facade was a glass panel that displayed all sorts of metal works that the shop sold inside. There were steel cups and plates, cutleries of all different shapes and sizes, some that even looked like they were made of Silver. Clare reached for the doorknob and opened the door of the shop as if that was the most natural thing to do. It was unlocked. She led me inside the shop until we reached a flight of stairs and beckoned me to follow as she started her ascent.

The first floor of the building was completely different than the ground floor. It was warmer and brighter. The lamps shone with orange light and it gave the place a very cosy feeling. There were two armchairs and a table in the middle of the room. The furniture looked very old and they were probably in the room since before I was born. Surrounding the room were shelves. They looked like they were made from the same wood as the table. All were dark brown, decorated with various patterns and designs. More intriguing was that were at least a dozen clocks! Not the modern round alarm clocks with those two stupid bells at the top but old cuckoo clocks. All were quite old and rather pricey looking. The clocks weren’t the only clockworks in the room. There were other mechanical devices ranging from music boxes to toy automatons. On the opposite side of the room lay a large oval-shaped mirror on the wall. The decorative art that filled its borders was stunningly intricate.

“Welcome,” said a musical voice coming from behind. It wasn’t Clare’s voice.

I turned around just in time to see a middle-aged, tall and slender woman give a curtsey fit for a king. When she raised her head, I saw a breathtakingly beautiful face. Hers was a different kind of beauty. While Clare had childlike eyes and a small, fragile-looking body, this woman had eyes that were deep pools threatening to swallow you up and a body that had matured well past that of a young girl. They were very dark, her eyes, and they shined in a way that displayed both wisdom and experience. She moved without a sound to one of the armchairs in the room and raised her hand in a gesture that invited me to take the seat opposite of hers. Her manners were aristocratic to the highest degree.

I was grateful for the invitation and sat down hurriedly. The armchair was unbelievingly comfortable. I noticed that Clare had disappeared and that I was alone with this woman.

“My name is Maia Clow,” said the woman in a low and polite voice.

“Jakob,” I replied.

“Would you mind to tell me what happened to you?”

Her words stroked a sensitive chord and I felt the dam breaking open. “I was attacked by a dog,” I cried. “A huge three-headed dog!” my hands tried to emphasise the size of the dog. I knew that it sounded preposterous. This woman would soon burst into laughter, thinking I have lost my mind. But she sat there quietly, her face was utterly serious. She was waiting for me to continue. “I would have been dead if I have not met Clare by coincidence. She killed the beast with her….” I had wanted to say sword. But it was too absurd to say out loud. What kind of girl in the 21^st century would carry a 30 inch sword on a day out!

“Coincidence? There is no such thing as coincidence when you meet someone,” interrupted Maia gently. “That we have met today means that we were meant to meet and our meeting could not have happened in any other way. It is inevitable that the past must be as it has been before the future can unfold. We may forget in the near future that this meeting has ever happened but we cannot change the fact that this encounter has already taken place.”

I was a little taken aback by the words she used. “Do you mean that our meeting was fated somehow?” I enquired.

“Yes, free-will and choice are within our reach only to a limited degree in the present and the future but not in the past. Things that have already happened are a product of inevitability,” said Maia with a lovely smile on her face. “This of course, does not explain why you were attacked by a three-headed dog and how Clare saved you by killing it with a….sword, I believe.”

The woman knew all along! She was in on the secret!

I was too curious to be angry that she had kept me in the dark for awhile. That she had not covered up the whole thing meant that she might be willing to explain to me what actually happened. My sense of curiosity overwhelmed all other feelings I had and I felt my heart quicken in pace. “Please explain to me what happened back there,” I asked making no attempt to hide my curiosity.

“All men by nature desire to know,” said Maia laughing softly. “But beware, sometimes ignorance is bliss.”

Chapter III: Seek and Ye Shall Find

Previous Chapters:

Chapter I: Reflections in a Broken Mirror

Chapter II: Unexpected Encounters and Unwanted Emotions

-

I saw in front of me the same three-headed dog of my dream. My nightmare to be exact. It was the same three-headed hound with fire crackling from its mouths and eyes. It was coal-black and enormous in size. The only difference was that this time I was sure that I wasn’t dreaming.

-

The last I remembered was exiting the art gallery in furious haste to chase after the girl that had trapped me in a trance of irrational behaviour. The art gallery! I was caught checking out a girl in an art gallery! Somehow the situation had seemed rather ridiculous. And I was rather pissed with my pathetic lack of self-control. Worst was the fact that she had caught me looking at her! And that I had broken eye contact out of fear.

I remembered running down Surrey Street until I reached the perpendicular road called Arundel Gate. She was nowhere to be seen. Fear! Fear gives wings. Fear is the prison of the heart. Fear is bondage. The emotion that was present so strongly in my dream the other night. A nightmare of a three-headed dog. That scary encounter in my sleep must have been the result of me reading a book on mythology the night before. There was only one three-headed dog that I knew and that was Cerberus, the demon dog of the underworld. The hound of hell.  The one who ensured that no soul can ever escape eternal damnation. The dog of death.

Suddenly the bright sky of summer turned dark. It was as if a solar eclipse had blotted out the sun. It was not complete darkness but the sort of lack of light that you see during the twilight hours. Present was the orange and yellowish light that signalled the arrival and departure of the sun-god with his flaming chariot. But it was summer in Sheffield! Nightfall and total darkness did not come until 9 PM! Then I caught a glimpse of it. Its form shimmered at first. But slowly it became more solid, more real, and more terrifying. The outward appearance of it was unmistakable. It wasn’t that I didn’t recognise it. But that I didn’t believe the thing that I saw.

It was the same three-headed dog of my nightmare!

Those three heads were unmistakable. It was as though my thoughts of the abyssal creature had summoned it up from the very depths of the netherworld itself. Three pairs of eyes shone with unearthly brightness of green even as flames burn from the hound’s eye slits. I felt the lost of my sanity at that moment. A madness that paralyzed my mind and my body. I knew not whether to run or to stand still. But from its eyes, I knew my fate was sealed.

It wanted to kill me. It wanted me to die. And there was nothing left to do but to pray that death would come swiftly, without pain and agony. I trembled at the thought of it. I felt my own sweat glister down my spine.

“There you are,” whispered a clear but soft voice that came from behind me. I did not recognise its tone or timbre.

I spun around to look for the source of speech and I was shocked to find that it was her. The girl I saw in the art gallery. The same girl that I tried to chase after when she disappeared. She stood just a few meters away, eyes fixed upon the hound behind me. “Run!” I tried to scream to her. But my voice broke even before the words could be uttered.

Then it happened all so quickly that it was but a blinding flash to my eyes. In a few graceful steps, the girl stood beside me. She raised her right hand and pulled out a blade from thin air that looked like a double-edged straight sword. It was long and narrow, her sword, with a tassel tied to the end of the hilt. Then she gracefully glided towards the three-headed beast without fear or any sign of hesitance.

At first, it looked like the girl was walking to her death. The dog was huge with claws that could have torn the girl to shreds.

But in one sweeping motion the girl’s sword sliced through the dog’s body. It was such an elegant movement. The girl looked as if she was dancing. Her hands and footwork betrayed no involuntary movement, as if choreographed to achieve perfect form. The slash was clean, controlled, and lethal. But instead of cutting through flesh and bone, the dog’s form seemed to have vibrated violently before slowly fading into the darkness. There was no blood. No trace that the three-headed dog had ever been there. It just vanished as mysteriously as it had come.

Then the girl turned back to face me. Her fair face betrayed no emotions but an empty stare. She dropped her sword to the ground and it also vibrated and disappeared before touching the pavement. Then the darkness subsided. The sun was again shining brightly and I could feel the warmth coming back to my face. It was as if a nightmare was over. The street was filled with people that I had not noticed before. A van driving through Arundel Gate stopped for the traffic lights beside me. There was no hint of anything extraordinary. No three-headed dog.

Taking no heed of my panic-stricken face, the girl walked up to me and whispered, “Follow me.”

Chapter II: Unexpected Encounters and Unwanted Emotions

Previous Chapter

Chapter I: Reflections in a Broken Mirror

-

Who Ever Loved, That Loved Not at First Sight

-

It lies not in our power to love or hate,

For will in us is overruled by fate.

When two are stripped, long ere the course begin,

We wish that one should love, the other win;

And one especially do we affect

Of two gold ingots, like in each respect:

The reason no man knows; let it suffice

What we behold is censured by our eyes.

Where both deliberate, the love is slight:

Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?

~ Christopher Marlowe (1564-93)

-

I survived the greeting of old friends that came with me from the Far East. I never liked cordial greetings in more public occasions. Everything just seemed so fake and unreal. The classic, “how are you?” came from so many different individuals that I knew didn’t really give a damn about my wellbeing. Sincerity is scarce when company is aplenty. Nevertheless, there were some that I knew more intimately, people with the decency to be sincere while meeting friends. Krishnan and Isabella were such people. They came towards me with smiles that revealed their 32 teeth to the public and eyes that were dead set upon their target. Me.

“Jakob!” They screamed in unison at the top of their voices. I felt that a few students turned their heads to look at the cause of the commotion.

“Hi Krishnan, Hi Bell,” I replied in a voice much softer than theirs. The last thing I wanted was more people staring at us. “Wonderful day isn’t it?” I continued with some heavy sarcasm.

“Come on, when are you going to enjoy the crowd?” said Isabella accompanied by a one-eyed wink. She was a very attractive woman, Isabella. She had light blue eyes, long blond hair that she tied into a ponytail, and the exact right blend of mischief and intelligence. All in all, an exquisite lady-like being that seemed to be the perfect product of nature and nurture. The fact that she wasn’t arrogant and aloof like so many people with her level of attractiveness was just icing on the cake.

“Don’t push him too hard, Bell,” said Krishnan with a snicker. He was obviously suppressing a full blown burst of laughter. “I am betting that he just wants to be alone with you.” The idea was appealing of course. But a light crimson blush on the cheeks of Isabella brought me back to cold reality.

“Any man would be dying to have some time alone with Bell,” I said while attempting to put on an emotionless face of stone. No harm being courteous or trying to be courteous in my case. “Just look at her. She is overflowing with joy and mirth.” I was still trying to salvage to situation from escalating further. It was bad enough that I was tongue-tied when I first met Isabella after coming up to Sheffield. I thought it better of me to display some form of eloquence while first impressions were not yet set in stone.

“See, I told you he likes you,” said Krishnan with an evil smirk on his face.

I stood there like a dumbstruck lamb while Krishnan burst into a fit of laughter that got everyone looking at the three of us again. Fortunately for me, I was saved by the bell when an announcement was made asking all students to enter the Pennine Lecture Theatre.

-

I left the lecture theatre as soon as I heard what the University had to say.  My friends were still at the Owen building. I wanted the day all to myself. It was rather selfish of me but I was kind of a lone wolf. In my bag was a file that contained the University’s 2010 prospectus, an international students’ handbook, and a course guide. From these items I knew that I had classes on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. The rest of the week was free for self-study. As if students would really do self-study when given free time. But I thought in glee that it was a very convenient schedule, one that allowed me to explore the city of Sheffield by light and night.

Deciding at that moment to make the most of my time, I crossed to the other side of Arundel Gate and walked up Surrey Street to the heart of the city of Sheffield. I had read earlier that day that one of the art galleries in the city was located on the top floor of the central library. Although I had never myself been able to produce anything I thought was of artistic value, paintings and sculptures have always invoked a great sense of fascination and admiration in my heart. One need not be an artist himself to appreciate the art of others.

It was to this art gallery, the Graves Gallery[1] to be exact, that I was headed to.

After I reached the central library in a few hurried but measured steps, I was greeted by Antonio Vivaldi’s ‘Four Seasons’[2] as I entered the Graves Gallery. I thought that Baroque music of the 17^th century was very suitable to be played in art galleries. The elaborateness of the sounds produced by various instruments present in an orchestra served to heighten the sense of depth and wonder that one can find in art. It was like coffee and milk. They complement each other to form a whole new level of experience. Experience that I was really looking forward to.

However, my expectations and hopes came crashing down when I found out that the gallery housed collections of modern art at that present moment. I remembered being utterly disappointed. There was even a feeling of betrayal akin to being stabbed in the back. Nothing good had ever came out from me when viewing modern art. Somehow or rather, I had never been able to relate to them as well as I could relate to the classical pieces from the ancient Greeks to the Renaissance.

Nevertheless, I decided to give modern art the benefit of the doubt for that day.

Among the artworks that I found was a half-figure of a woman with her arms and hands reaching upwards either in prayer or in a desperate plea for mercy. It was carved from a single, hard block of stone and it stood barely 2 feet high.[3] Another equally thought provoking sculpture was that of a figure lying on its elbow with its legs bent in a way that its knees pointed to the sky.[4] The figure’s form was dictated by the shape of the original ironstone pebble that it was carved out from. The description of the sculpture revealed that the periods of 1920s and 30s were dominated by the notion of ‘truth to material’ whereby sculptors tried to ‘emphasise the inherent qualities and limitations of their chosen material’. The task of the artists in those periods was not only to shape matter but to unlock the form hidden within a given stone.

Leaving sculptures aside, another more interesting artwork was William Hogarth’s 18^th century series of prints called ‘Industry and Idleness’. They numbered 12 in total with each print telling a part of the story about two apprentices, one following the ‘good’ path of life, Francis Goodchild, and one who strays from the path of righteousness, Tom Idle. Bonded by the choices that they made during the early days of their lives, the story ended in a most peculiar way with Goodchild who was in the later part of the story a judge, sentencing to death Tom Idle who became a criminal of society. Choices, could we really have them?

My gaze ran through several other pieces of art before finally coming to rest upon a giant sculpture of Adam and Eve who were kissing in a rather erotic and passionate manner. But the sculpture was inconsequential. It was unimportant at that moment. In fact I could barely remember anything of that piece of marble stone besides its general shape, texture and colour. The sculpture was not my object of contemplation but a young girl standing beneath the arms of Adam looking at one of the paintings in the gallery.

From my vantage point, I saw only the side view of her face. Yet I knew she was beautiful. She stood upright around five-five in height, with long, dark brownish hair that reached straight down to her shoulder blades. Her skin was fair and smooth, almost as white as the marble sculpture beside her.

I moved closer to the wall in order to capture a glimpse of her facial features and I was immediately captivated by what I saw. The girl I was looking at was the idealisation of beauty herself. A goddess in flesh and blood. She had a doll’s face with big childlike eyes that were light brown with little flecks of grey. Her nose was perfectly shaped, neither too big nor too small, and her mouth betrayed twin bows, delicate and pinkish. It was as if Venus herself had come down to the realm of mortal beings. She was the perfect sculpture. Every other art piece seemed to fade away in the midst of her presence. Her posture, standing stance, and her steady, unwavering eyes that were intently fixed upon the painting in front of her made her and her immediate environment a work of art in itself. She was at that time both so real and surreal. I would have begged the heavens for such a moment to last a little longer. It was all so deeply sensual. A sculpture, a woman, and a picture. All unmoving, a perfect blend of still life and vitality.

‘Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder,’[5] I thought silently in my heart. ‘Beauty fades like a flower, it is but a blossom.’ It was a desperate attempt by my rational mind to break away from her enthralling form and facial features. Yet no matter how I tried, I failed to convince my inner self and my subconscious being that beauty was only skin-deep, only one layer, only an ethereal thing. My thoughts drifted back to an old Chinese proverb, ‘a pretty face comes together with a poor fate’. For it was true that the four women of ancient China[6] known exclusively for their beauty led lives filled with strife that all ended being entangled in tragedy. Would she be worth the tragedy she would bring?

Then something changed. I sensed it before it happened. I wasn’t sure which came first, whether my idea became reality or did reality became my idea. Slowly and gracefully, she turned her head to her left and her childlike eyes tore through the enchantment that held me in a trance for a period when time seemed to have slowed down. Her head was tilted to the side. Some of her wavy dark brown hair was caught between her shoulders and her face. I remembered wishing that it was my hand that was touching her face at that moment. Then her lips pressed against each other and revealed a serene, one-sided smile. But she looked at me in a different manner than when she was looking at the painting. Her steady eyes were replaced by a dreamy expression. It was as if she saw through me. Like I didn’t exist or like my body wasn’t opaque. It gave me a chilling feeling, like I was laid bare, and exposed under the sunlight. It was as if all my flaws were brought out from the depths of my soul and I could not escape her judgment.

It pained me to look at her. So much hurt that I had to look away. The music in the gallery started playing Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor.[7] It was one of the most melancholic melodies, played as if to make a mockery of my disposition. I had looked away in fear. Fear of what, I did not know. I had never felt fear gripping my heart this way before. It was as if all confidence and stature evaporated like water spilled on the pavement on a hot summer day. A sinking feeling that engulfed my inmost being. It was like having your soul seized into the underworld and now having to live with half your soul left. Silent coldness of ice gave way to a flame of fiery rage. What have I to be afraid of? I looked back to the place where she was standing just a moment ago aiming to confront my fears. ‘We have nothing to fear but fear itself,’ was the famous saying of President Roosevelt. I would live up to his saying.

But she was gone!

I checked the empty spaces in the gallery, eyes darting back and forth like an eagle in search for prey. Gone! She had disappeared in a matter of seconds! It was as if she was a magician that went off in a puff of smoke. A rabbit disappearing into a top hat. I even checked behind the giant sculpture of Adam and Eve. Nothing! If I was fuelled with fury before, now I was fuming with molten wrath. How dare she summon such a mixture of feelings in me and disappear! In a flash I bolted to the exit door of the gallery determined to catch her silhouette. Little did I know that after today, my life would change in an unexpected twist.

---

[1] The Graves Gallery was opened in 1934 with the generous donation of local mail order entrepreneur JG Graves. It celebrated its 75^th birthday

[2] Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741), The Four Seasons

[3] Henry Moore, Woman with Upraised Arms, 1924-5

[4] Henry Moore, Reclining Figure, 1930

[5] A sentiment that has been traced back to the Greek poet Theocritus (3^rd Century BC).

[6] Xi Shi (Spring and Autumn Period) was so beautiful that fish would forget to swim and shrink away from the       surface of the water.

Wang Zhaojun (Western Han Dynasty) was so beautiful that birds would fall from the sky.

Diao Chan (Three Kingdoms Period) was so beautiful that the moon would hide in embarrassment.

Yang Guifei (Tang Dynasty) was so beautiful that flowers were put shame.

[7] Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor became synonymous with the revival of interest in Baroque music in recent years, but it was in fact reconstructed by the Italian musicologist Remo Giazotto (1910) from a fragment of music by Albinoni.

Who Ever Loved, That Loved Not at First Sight

-

It lies not in our power to love or hate,

For will in us is overruled by fate.

When two are stripped, long ere the course begin,

We wish that one should love, the other win;

And one especially do we affect

Of two gold ingots, like in each respect:

The reason no man knows; let it suffice

What we behold is censured by our eyes.

Where both deliberate, the love is slight:

Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?

- Christopher Marlowe (1564-93)

-

I survived the greeting of old friends that came with me from the Far East. I never liked cordial greetings in more public occasions. Everything just seemed so fake and unreal. The classic, “how are you?” came from so many different individuals that I knew didn’t really give a damn about my wellbeing. Sincerity is scarce when company is aplenty. Nevertheless, there were some that I knew more intimately, people with the decency to be sincere while meeting friends. Krishnan and Isabella Rowe were such people. They came towards me with smiles that revealed their 32 teeth to the public and eyes that were dead set upon their target. Me.

“Jakob!” They screamed in unison at the top of their voices. I actually felt that a few students actually turned their heads to look at the cause of the commotion.

“Hi Krishnan, Hi Bell,” I replied in a voice much softer than theirs. The last thing I wanted was more people staring at us. “Wonderful day isn’t it?” I continued with some heavy sarcasm.

“Come on, when are you going to enjoy the crowd?” said Isabella accompanied by a one-eyed wink. She was a very attractive woman, Isabella. She had light blue eyes, long blond hair that she tied into a ponytail, and the exact right blend of mischief and intelligence. All in all, an exquisite lady-like being that seemed to be the perfect product of nature and nurture. The fact that she wasn’t arrogant and aloof like so many people with her level of attractiveness was just icing on the cake.

“Don’t push him too hard, Bell,” said Krishnan with a snicker. He was obviously suppressing a full blown burst of laughter. “I am betting that he just wants to be alone with you.” The idea was appealing of course. But a light crimson blush on the cheeks of Isabella brought me back to cold reality.

“Any man would be dying to have some time alone with Bell,” I said while attempting to put on an emotionless face of stone. No harm being courteous or trying to be courteous in my case. “Just look at her. She is overflowing with joy and beauty.” I was still trying to salvage to situation from escalating further. It was bad enough that I was tongue-tied when I first met Isabella after coming up to Sheffield. I thought it better of me to display some form of eloquence while first impressions were not yet set in stone.

“See, I told you he likes you,” said Krishnan with an evil smirk on his face.

I stood there like a dumbstruck lamb while Krishnan burst into a fit of laughter that got everyone looking at the three of us again. Fortunately for me, I was saved by the bell when an announcement was made asking all students to enter the Pennine Lecture Theatre.

-

I left the lecture theatre as soon as I heard what the University had to say.  My friends were still at the Owen building. I wanted the day all to myself. It was rather selfish of me but I was kind of a lone wolf. In my bag was a file that contained the University’s 2010 prospectus, an international students’ handbook, and a course guide. From these items I knew that I had classes on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. The rest of the week was free for self-study. As if students would really do self-study when given free time. But I thought in glee that it was a very convenient schedule, one that allowed me to explore the city of Sheffield by light and night.

Deciding at that moment to make the most of my time, I crossed to the other side of Arundel Gate and walked up Surrey Street to the heart of the city of Sheffield. I had read earlier that day that one of the art galleries in the city was located on the top floor of the central library. Although I had never myself been able to produce anything I thought was of artistic value, paintings and sculptures have always invoked a great sense of fascination and admiration in my heart. One need not be an artist himself to appreciate the art of others.

It was to this art gallery, the Graves Gallery[1] to be exact, that I was headed to.

After I reached the central library in a few hurried but measured steps, I was greeted by Antonio Vivaldi’s ‘Four Seasons’[2] as I entered the Graves Gallery. I thought that Baroque music of the 17^th century was very suitable to be played in art galleries. The elaborateness of sound produced by various instruments present in an orchestra that aimed at achieving harmony served to heighten the sense of depth and wonder that one can find in art. It was like coffee and milk. They complement each other to form a whole new level of experience. Experience that I was really looking forward for.

However, my expectations and hopes came crashing down when I found out that the gallery housed collections of modern art at that present moment. I remembered being utterly disappointed. There was even a feeling of betrayal akin to being stabbed in the back. Nothing good had ever came out from me when viewing modern art. Somehow or rather, I had never been able to relate to them as well as I could relate to the classical pieces from the ancient Greeks to the Renaissance.

Nevertheless, I decided to give modern art the benefit of the doubt for that day.

The exhibition in the Graves Gallery contained the work of a group of internationally important artists who lived and worked in Hampstead in the 1930s. Their names were Henry Moore, Barbara Hepworth, and Ben Nicholson. The trio took several summer holidays at Happisburgh on the Norfolk coast and found their inspiration among the stones and pebbles lying at the coastline.

Among their works was a half-figure of a woman with her arms and hands reaching upwards either in prayer or in a desperate plea for mercy. It was carved from a single, hard block of stone and it stood barely 2 feet high.[3] Another equally thought provoking sculpture was that of a figure lying on its elbow with its legs bent in a way that its knees pointed to the sky.[4] The figure’s form was dictated by the shape of the original ironstone pebble that it was carved out from. The description of the sculpture revealed that the periods of 1920s and 30s were dominated by the notion of ‘truth to material’ whereby sculptors tried to ‘emphasise the inherent qualities and limitations of their chosen material’. The task of the artists in those periods was not only to shape matter but to unlock the form hidden within a given stone.

Leaving sculptures aside, another more interesting artwork was William Hogarth’s 18^th century series of prints called ‘Industry and Idleness’. They numbered 12 in total with each print telling a part of the story about two apprentices, one following the ‘good’ path of life, Francis Goodchild, and one who strays from the path of righteousness, Tom Idle. Bonded by the choices that they made during the early days of their lives, the story ended in a most peculiar way with Goodchild who was in the later part of the story a judge, sentencing to death Tom Idle who became a criminal of society. ‘Choices,’ I pondered. ‘Do we really have them?’

My gaze ran through several other pieces of art before finally coming to rest upon a giant sculpture of Adam and Eve who were kissing in a rather erotic and passionate manner. But the sculpture was inconsequential. It was unimportant at that moment. In fact I could barely remember anything of that piece of marble stone besides its general shape, texture and colour. The sculpture was not my object of contemplation but a young girl standing beneath the arms of Adam looking at one of the paintings in the gallery.

From my vantage point, I saw only the side view of her face. Yet I knew she was beautiful. She stood upright around five-five in height, with long, dark brownish hair that reached straight down to her shoulder blades. Her skin was fair and smooth, almost as white as the marble sculpture beside her.

I moved closer to the wall in order to capture a glimpse of her facial features. I was immediately captivated by what I saw. The girl I was looking at was the idealisation of beauty herself. A goddess in flesh and blood. She had a doll’s face with big childlike eyes that were light brown with little flecks of grey. Her nose was perfectly shaped, neither too big nor too small, and her mouth betrayed twin bows, delicate and pinkish. It was as if Venus herself had come down to the realm of mortal beings. She was the perfect sculpture. Every other art piece seemed to fade away in the midst of her presence. Her posture, standing stance, and her steady, unwavering eyes that were intently fixed upon the painting in front of her made her a work of art in itself. She was at that time both so real and surreal. I would have begged the heavens for such a moment to last a little longer. It was all so deeply sensual. A sculpture, a woman, and a picture. All unmoving, a perfect blend of still life and vitality.

‘Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder,’[5] I thought silently in my heart. ‘Beauty fades like a flower, it is but a blossom.’ It was a desperate attempt by my rational mind to break away from her enthralling form and facial features. Yet no matter how I tried, I failed to convince my inner self and my subconscious being that beauty was only skin-deep, only one layer, only an ethereal thing. My thoughts drifted back to an old Chinese proverb, ‘a pretty face comes together with a poor fate’. For it is true that the four women of ancient China[6] known exclusively for their beauty led lives filled with strife that all ended being tangled in tragedy. Would she be worth the tragedy she would bring?

Then something changed. I sensed it before it happened. I wasn’t sure which came first, whether my idea became reality or did reality became my idea. Slowly and gracefully, she turned her head to her left and her childlike eyes tore through the enchantment that held me in a trance for a period when time seemed to have slowed down. Her head was tilted to the side. Some of her wavy dark brown hair was caught between her shoulders and her face. Oh, how I wished that it was my hand that was touching her face at that moment. Then her lips pressed against each other and revealed a serene, one-sided smile. But she looked at me in a different manner than when she was looking at the painting. Her steady eyes were replaced by a dreamy expression. It was as if she saw through me. Like I didn’t exist or like my body wasn’t opaque. It gave me a chilling feeling, like I was laid bare, and exposed under the sunlight. It was as if all my flaws were brought out from the depths of my soul and I could not escape judgment.

It pained me to look at her. So much hurt that I had to look away. The music in the gallery started playing Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor.[7] One of the most melancholic of melodies played as if to make a mockery of my disposition. I had looked away in fear. Fear of what, I did not know. I had never felt fear gripping my heart this way before. It was as if all confidence and stature evaporated like water spilled on the pavement on a hot summer day. A sinking feeling that engulfed my inmost being. It was like having your soul seized into the underworld and now having to live with half your soul left. Silent coldness of ice gave way to a flame of fiery rage. What have I to be afraid of? I looked back to the place where she was standing just a moment ago aiming to confront my fears head on. ‘We have nothing to fear but fear itself,’ was the famous saying of President Roosevelt. I would live up to his saying.

But she was gone!

I checked the empty spaces in the gallery, eyes darting back and forth like some laser scanner in the movies. Gone! She had disappeared in a matter of seconds! It was as if she was a magician that went off in a puff of smoke. A rabbit disappearing into a top hat. I even checked behind the giant sculpture of Adam and Eve. Nothing! If I was fuelled with fury before, now I was fuming with molten wrath. How dare she summon such a mixture of feelings in me and disappear! In a flash I bolted to the exit door of the gallery determined to catch her silhouette. Little did I know that after today, my life would change in an unexpected twist.

---

[1] The Graves Gallery was opened in 1934 with the generous donation of local mail order entrepreneur JG Graves. It celebrated its 75^th birthday

[2] Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741), The Four Seasons

[3] Henry Moore, Woman with Upraised Arms, 1924-5

[4] Henry Moore, Reclining Figure, 1930

[5] A sentiment that has been traced back to the Greek poet Theocritus (3^rd Century BC).

[6] Xi Shi (Spring and Autumn Period) was so beautiful that fish would forget to swim and shrink away from the       surface of the water.

Wang Zhaojun (Western Han Dynasty) was so beautiful that birds would fall from the sky.

Diao Chan (Three Kingdoms Period) was so beautiful that the moon would hide in embarrassment.

Yang Guifei (Tang Dynasty) was so beautiful that flowers were put shame.

[7] Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor became synonymous with the revival of interest in Baroque music in recent years, but it was in fact reconstructed by the Italian musicologist Remo Giazotto (1910) from a fragment of music by Albinoni.

Investment Banks in Malaysia

Bank Backed

1. Affin Investment Bank
2. Alliance Investment Bank
3. AmInvestment Bank
4. CIMB Investment Bank
5. Hong Leong Investment Bank
6. Maybank Investment Bank
7. MIMB Investment Bank
8. Public Investment Bank
9. RHB Investment Bank

Non-Bank Backed

1. ECM Libra Investment Bank
2. HwangDBS Investment Bank
3. KAF Investment Bank
4. Kenanga Investment Bank
5. MIDF Amanah Investment Bank
6. OSK Investment Bank

Chapter I: Reflections in a Broken Mirror

I looked intently at the perfect replica of myself. The image I saw in my bathroom mirror was that of a male individual that had just started his first baby steps into the realm of adulthood and responsibility. My father had been filled with elation when I had come to be of age. I for one was not so optimistic in sharing my father’s delight. Being 21 years old was a good age to enjoy both love and life. The only problem was that I had neither to cherish.

My looks were the least of my problems. I was above average in terms of height with broad shoulders but a lean form. The thick black hair that covered my scalp was jet black yet brownish under the sun and florescent light. Steady, dark brown eyes occupied the space below my brow, giving me a gentle and kind-natured gaze when I was looking afar or daydreaming. A narrow but well-shaped nose was the centrepiece of my face, and beneath it laid a mouth that betrayed the warmest of smiles when I was in a jolly good mood. The only thing that spoiled my facial features was the frameless glasses I wore which also, ironically, proved to be a blessing in disguise as it helped shelter my sleep-deprived eye bags from public view.

‘Sleep is the greatest thief, for it steals half of one’s life’ had always been my unconscious motto followed by ‘there will be sleeping enough in the grave’. These thoughts that lay in the deepest and darkest corners of my head caused me to sleep late every night and wake early every morning. The other equally bizarre factor was that I was a scholar in every way except in formal profession. And while girls, games, movies, and parties normally stole time away from youths of my age, it was books that stole most of the remaining time that I had, minus sleep and other essential activities needed for the minimal sustenance of life. But I was content with such a life! Or so I wanted myself to think.

Moving reluctantly away from the mirror and my own image, I exited my room and entered into the common room through a long and narrow corridor in my flat. I stayed together with five other individuals. All of whom were girls that I thought were pleasant both in looks and behaviour. Given any other male humanoid, I should be the happiest man on earth. However, I considered all five women as mere acquaintances and I had never bothered to go beyond more than a greeting and some casual chat. I was lucky enough to occupy the master room of the flat and with it I gained the comfort of a queen-sized bed, more living space, a longer working table, and an additional bookshelf. Yet, even all these were incomparable to the comfy couches that lay outside of my room in wait of utility.

Thanking my lucky stars that not a single soul could be seen outside my room, I poured myself a glass of red wine before falling into a relaxed position on top of the longest couch in the common room. For company tonight, I had with me a book entitled Bulfinch’s Mythology[1] and an iphone that contained mostly classical music that I adored second only to books of knowledge and science.  Seated upright in anticipation of a long and lonely night, I sipped and savoured the wine that I had poured for myself.

“All I need now is some music,” I muttered as I fumbled for my iphone in my pocket. Reaching it, I simply played the first song on my playlist without regard to composer or composition.

Through white earphones, I was greeted gently by the opening piano movements of Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight’ Sonata[2]. Beethoven had dedicated this sonata to Countess Giulietta Giucciardi, a pupil that the great German composer was very much in love with. Sadly, the Countess did not reciprocate Beethoven’s feelings for her. Breaking conventional rules of music at his time, the sonata was structured with a gradual quickening in tempo or speed. I listened calmly with great pleasure as the slow and dreamy opening called Adagio sostenuto soon gave way to the more playful and delightful Allegretto.

Wishing silently in my heart for my life to be more like Beethoven’s sonata, I pondered the likelihood of something extraordinary happening to myself.

“Not a chance with my lifestyle,” I chuckled as I sipped more wine down my dry throat.

After a few minutes, the combination of red wine and mythological creatures began to take their toll on my consciousness. Melting slowly into the comforts of the common room, I fell into deep sleep by the end of the sonata’s last and most fiery movement called Presto.

As all consciousness dissipated from me, my nightmares soon started.

-

I was certain that I was in some kind of bad dream. In fact, I was never so certain in my entire life. What else could be the reason of a gigantic three-headed dog standing just a dozen meters away from myself? Three-headed dogs do not exist in reality. Everything about the giant hound spelled the word: UNNATURAL. And unnatural wasn’t something you found in your everyday life. Adding to its fake disposition was that this enormous coal-black hound was about 6 feet in height with fire bursting from its open mouth and eye slits. Cruel eyes glared at me through the flames with latent hate and malice. It let out a hideous howl from its huge jaws before leaping towards me in a savage and vicious manner.

Dream or no dream, I took flight for dear life itself. I knew I couldn’t outrun it. Its long leaps and bounds ensured that it would catch me in a matter of minutes if not seconds. Losing my footing and falling face flat to the ground, I turned and watched in horror as the black form of its body filled my vision and its jaws opened to kill me in one vicious snap. I closed my eyes instinctively and waited for the end to come.

“Jakob, wake up!” cried an unknown voice of a young woman. Suddenly the delirious dream began to vanish. The dog was gone and all my senses faded into a blurry mixture of light and darkness. And then, it was all over.

-

I awoke at the sound of someone calling my own name. Opening my eyes, Joanna’s concerned face filled my cloudy vision. Joanna was one of the flatmates that I had a ‘slightly more than an acquaintance’ relationship with due to our rooms located side by side. Coming to my senses, I sat upright and cursed as my book fell to the floor.

“Are you alright, Jakob? You gave me quite a shock when I found you sleeping in such an awkward position,” commented Joanna whose face was still inches away from mine.

“No worries, I am alright. Red wine and Bulfinch got me a little too cosy last night,” I said while shifting my position away from Joanna. I notice that my face was covered with sticky sweat. A feeling of distaste and disgust filled my head.

Joanna seemed to take the hint of her invasion of my personal space and moved her slender form away from mine. I was very grateful for that. Glancing at my watch I immediately jumped up and hurried hastily into my room, leaving an open-mouth Joanna behind.

“Sorry Jo, I am late! And it’s Induction Day for Heaven’s sake!” I stammered as I entered my own room.

-

My bedroom was in the perfect and pristine condition that I had left it before I fell asleep in the common room yesterday night. The orange blanket on top of my bed lay unmolested due to my absence in the room while my laptop stood silently on the left hand corner of my table. Beaming with joy at the cleanliness of my room, I grabbed my towel and headed straight into the bathroom. After taking a quick shower for the sake of hygiene and some time to tidy myself up for the outside world, I put on a black t-shirt, a blue pair of denim jeans, and a blue Dockers jacket before exiting my flat carrying a small sling bag that contained a diary and a pen. My desired destination was the University that I would spend the next four months trying to garner a bachelor’s degree in Finance.

Exiting ‘Charlotte Court’, which was the name of the flat that I lived in, I walked North between two rows of houses, passing by a small Sainsbury convenience store until I reached Suffolk Road. This was a totally foreign environment for me. I came from the Far East and England was a totally new and hostile place to me. The place in Mother England that I landed myself in was Sheffield, a metropolitan city in South Yorkshire, named after the River Sheaf that runs through the city. It was nicknamed ‘The Steel City’ after its international reputation for metallurgy and steel-making (especially cutlery). The total population of the city was roughly 500,000 people making it one of the eight largest English cities outside London itself. Perhaps more impressively was the estimated total of over two million trees that provided cover for weary walkers in Sheffield. The city was said to have more trees per person than any other city in Europe!

Brushing aside any notions of trees and steel cutlery, I noticed that a long rectangular building had now come into view and I recognised it immediately to be Sheffield Station. It had been only four days since I had reached Sheffield’s train station on the 11^th of June around 9 PM. Along with me came a huge and fat trolley bag, a travelling bag that I slung over my shoulders, and a black knapsack that contained my laptop and other effects. I remembered the horror of hauling 30 kilograms of personal items across Sheffield in a desperate attempt to find Charlotte Court in the middle of a dark and moonless night. That was definitely an experience that I didn’t want to repeat. But the chances were high of getting lost due to my exceptionally poor navigating skills and sense of direction.

Repressing any further thought of getting lost, I crossed the road and started my slow ascent up Howard Street with Sheffield Science Park lying to my left and Sheffield Station at my back. Grabbing a £3 sandwich from a store on the way uphill and cursing myself for not waking up earlier to prepare a cheaper breakfast. I reached Hallam Square that was located directly opposite the Millennium Galleries. The only thing separating the two was the main road called Arundel Gate. Turning right, I walked straight on until I reached the Adsetts Centre of the University.  I took a deep breath before plunging myself headfirst into the building.

---

[1] Edmund Fuller., 1959, Bulfinch’s Mythology: A Modern Abridgement by Edmund Fuller, Dell Publishing, New York.

[2] Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) – Sonata No.14 (Op. 27, No.2)

1st Day of Work!!!

Cognitive Developments through Experienced Time

We watch in awe at the intellectual developments of children. They seem to learn so fast and comprehend so much in so little time. But cognitive development does not develop on at a consistent rate. Some children develop faster while others lag behind thus making cognitive development one of the hardest psychological aspects to pinpoint when studying the individual mind. Jean Piaget’s (1896-1980) model for cognitive development provides us an excellent base for this kind of study. In his model, Piaget matches the cognitive developments of an individual with the periods that these developments usually take place.

According to Jean Piaget, children like scientists observe regularities and make generalizations.  Human thought or intelligence is the product of a dynamic equilibrium between two processes, namely, assimilation and accommodation. The process of assimilation happens when a child incorporates new information into existing cognitive structures. These cognitive structures are called ‘schemas’ that can be generally understood as a pattern of action or a mental structure used to acquire and organise knowledge. A child ‘assimilates’ new information into existing schemas to solve problems faced when finding the answer to a mathematical question (problem) after having mastered arithmetic (schema).

On the flipside, a child is said to go through the process of accommodation when he or she forms a new cognitive structure or schema to incorporate new information. This means that a child must create new ways to respond to an object in order to understand it. The formation of new cognitive structures usually happens as a result of transforming old existing schemas to better accommodate the task at hand. For example, a child transforms his existing understanding for numbers (existing schema) into the knowledge of arithmetic (modified schema) in order to solve a mathematical question (problem).

From the processes of assimilation and accommodation, Piaget identified four periods of cognitive developments. The first stage is the sensorimotor stage that occurs when a child is newly born to around 2 years of age. Roughly during the first month, one can observe that a child is repeating behaviour that is pleasurable on purpose like sucking his/her thumb. By the third to fourth month, a child is fascinated by his/her arms and legs and begins to modify reflexes to make them more adaptive (open and closing his/her palms). By the fourth to eighth month, a child begins to coordinate actions in order to produce a certain reaction, thus hinting the basic understanding of cause and effect relationships. At 8 to 12 months old, a child begins to be able to represent objects mentally (object permanence) and begins searching for an object even after you remove it from sight. In contrast, a child of 6 months would be unable to retrieve hidden objects because he/she is unable to represent objects mentally.

The second stage, the preoperational stage, happens when a child is around 2 to 7 years old. This stage is distinctively set apart from the sensorimotor stage because a child develops language and mental imagery (this includes colour and size). This can be evidently seen through a child’s use of words and symbols to represent objects and relationships. Be warned however, that a child at this age may use the same words but imply a different meaning compared to the way adults use them. Besides that, this period of cognitive development is dominated by one-dimensional thinking like; egocentrism, animism, and artificialism.

Examples of Preoperational Thought
Type of Thought	Sample Questions	Typical Answers
Egocentrism	Why does the sun shine?	To keep me warm.
Animism	Why do trees have leaves?	To keep them warm.
Artificialism	Why is the sky blue?	Somebody painted it blue.

Another important aspect of the pre-operational stage is the ability to understand and apply the law of conservation. A child begins to understand that the basic properties of substances, for example, mass, weight, and volume, would remain the same regardless of the shape and the arrangement of the object. Given a flattened pancake-like piece of dough and a rolled-up piece of dough, a child would still be able to infer that both seemingly different objects are actually the same. Another more important experiment is the one that involves two beakers of different shape containing equal amounts of water. A child in the sensorimotor period would choose the taller beaker when asked which of the two beakers contained more water. On the contrary, a child in the pre-operational stage would be able to apply the law of conservation and point out that both beakers contain the same amount of water. Moral judgement during this stage however, would be still confined to objective responsibility based on the amount of damage done without taking into account criminal intents and motives.

At 7 to 12 years of age, a child reaches the concrete-operational stage. This stage is unique due to the ability of a child’s capacity to utilise adult logic. However, this ability is restricted mainly to tangible objects and not abstract ideas. An equally important development at this stage is the understanding of the concept of reversibility. A child recognizes that some things can be undone or restored to its previous state. To illustrate, a child tears apart a house made of Lego bricks and recognises his/her ability to reconstruct the house from its broken pieces. In terms of perspectives, the child is less egocentric and better able to understand another person’s point of view instead of just a one-dimensional way of thinking. Moral judgement can also be seen to incorporate more subjective views based on criminal intentions and motives.

The last stage in Piaget’s cognitive development model is the formal-operational stage. This stage of cognitive development starts roughly around age 12 and continues throughout an individual’s life. At this stage, an individual is able to acquire thinking skills that incorporate all logical combinations much like any adult mind. The ability to think in terms of abstract concepts also becomes increasingly evident and the ability to adopt strategies to systematically solve problems is present. For example, when asked to determine all the possible orderings for the numbers 3-7-5-8, a child in the formal-operational stage would adopt the strategy of systematically varying the alternations of digits, perhaps starting with the last digit and working towards the first.

Jean Piaget’s Stages of Cognitive Development
Stage	Period	Details
Sensorimotor	Birth – 2 years	At first, the child lacks language and does not use symbols or mental representations of objects. In time, reflexive responding ends, and intentional behaviour – as in making interesting stimulation last – begins. The child develops the object concept and acquires the basics of language.
Pre-operational	2 – 7 years	The child begins to represent the world mentally, but thought is egocentric. The child does not focus on two aspects of a situation at once and therefore lacks conservation. The child shows animism, artificialism, and objective responsibility for wrongdoing.
Concrete-operational	7 – 12 years	Logical mental actions – called operations – begin. The child develops conservation concepts, can adopt the viewpoint of others, can classify objects in series, and show comprehension of basic relational concepts (such as one object being larger or heavier than the other).
Formal-operational	12 years and older	Mature, adult thought emerges. Thinking is characterised by deductive logic, considerations of various possibilities (mental trial and error), abstract thought, and the formation and testing of hypotheses.

Having seen the four stages of Piaget’s cognitive development model, we must bear in mind that no model of cognitive development should be taken as an absolute model. Among the shortcomings of Piaget’s model includes, the lack of intuitive and aesthetic cognitive developments. Taking a closer look at the four stages, one finds that Piaget only deals with scientific and logical modes without regard to other areas like those of music. Other theorists have pointed out a fifth stage called the problem-finding stage whereby adults not only solve problems but find problems worth solving.

Perhaps more unforgivable is the fact that Piaget’s model left out the development of memory capacity throughout the four stages. Since the ability to remember is probably the most important factor for cognitive development, Piaget’s model is much in need of further expansion in this respect. Furthermore, the model also fails to include another important aspect of knowledge in development. There seem to be evidence pointing toward correlations between the heightened abilities of reasoning and problem-solving with the extent of an individual’s knowledge. Other psychologists have also pointed out that the accuracy of the timing for the different stages may vary from one individual to another while others have argued for different cognitive bases as a factor to benchmark cognitive abilities.

All these arguments are, in my opinion, valid. However, I still advocate the use of Piaget’s model as the foundation for the study of cognitive development with the reminder that the developments in cognitive abilities when one experiences time would be different than when one measures time. This means that cognitive development should be viewed more as a gradual and continuous development rather than a step-by-step movement from one separate stage to another stage. The matching of cognitive developments with the period that it occurs is an approximation and not an absolute direct relationship.

Measured Time and Experienced Time

Philosophy has traditionally two views concerning time, namely, the ‘static view of time’ and the ‘dynamic view of time’. The static view of time as embraced by philosophers like Parmenides and Zeno of Elea held that the appearance of temporal change is a mere illusion. This means that events deemed ‘past’ in one frame of reference must be deemed as the ‘future’ in other frames; thus hinting that the difference between the past and the future might be just one that is subjective to experience rather than a real ontological divide. The dynamic view of time chosen by philosophers like Heraclitus and Aristotle, maintained that the future lacks the certainty of the past and the present therefore reality is continually being added to as time passes. This implies a ‘movement of time from the past into the future’ as ‘future events become present before finally receding into the past’.

Both views of time are true to a certain degree. In fact, both views seem to complement each other and produce a more complete picture of our understanding of time. More importantly, both views show us a fundamental principle in philosophy, that is; some things change and some things do not change. Coming to this point, the task of the philosopher is to determine to a certain degree of accuracy the things that change with time and the things do not. We all know that some laws of nature and physics do not change relative to time. For example, as long as certain conditions are met, water boils at 100 degrees Celsius. If this law of physics do not hold true, no corporation would dare manufacture electrical stoves and kettles! Besides physics, other concepts and principles especially those found in mathematics are constant regardless of the flow of time. We can always with utmost certainty answer that 5 + 7 = 12 since we cannot conceive a world where the answer to such a question would be any different than the one we already know.

These unchanging laws in reality lead us to examine two kinds of propositional knowledge which philosophers call a priori and a posteriori. Knowledge is said to be a priori when it is a necessary truth, independent of the sense-experience. The most cited example of this kind of knowledge is again mathematics because the authority and validity of mathematical knowledge do not depend upon evidence obtained through experience. On the other hand, knowledge is said to be a posteriori when it refers to a contingent truth that is authenticated and justified only through the sense-experience. But what can we say about the concept of time? Is it a priori or a posteriori knowledge?

A posteriori	A priori
Propositional knowledge/truth	Propositional knowledge/truth
Contingent truth	Necessary truth
Knowledge based upon the sense-experience	Knowledge not based upon the sense experience
Reasoning from observed facts to general conclusion	Reasoning from general propositions to particular conclusion

The presence of time, I believe, is one that we can know both a priori and a posteriori. The truth that all life is subjected to time is known through the sense-experience or a posteriori when we see things change either in position or in age. We infer that the changes that one goes through as one ages, for example the increase in wrinkled skin, is time’s effect on human beings. From a different perspective, we can also know time a priori true because we cannot imagine a world where life exist without motion and subsequently; that motion exist without time. I admit the validity of the argument that time is simply an artificially man-made concept is not one that can be logically refuted. But I also believe that it is just measured time that is a man-made concept and not experienced time.

By dividing the concept of time into two, namely, measured time and experienced time we are able to solve the riddle that so puzzle us. The way we measure time is by treating time as a homogeneous medium that can be divided at will into periods of equal lengths. For example, we divide one day into twenty-four hours with each hour sharing a similar property in time as in every other hour, specifically, 60 minutes. When we experience time however, we know that time is not homogeneous but heterogeneous; ever-changing without repeating itself. Therefore time as experienced by our consciousness cannot be divided into instances the same way we divide one day into twenty-four hours. This we know because experienced time is a continuous flow that is both irreversible and unrepeatable. According to Henri Bergson (1859-1941) in his essay Time and Free Will (1913), we do not experience the world moment by moment but rather through a continuous stream of consciousness.

Experienced time, according to Professor Bergson’s definition, is an accumulation, a growth, a real duration. A real duration in the sense that experienced time is a ‘continuous process of the past that gnaws into the future and which swells as it advances’. As time moves in one direction, we see that the past is preserved in its entirety while incorporating the present into its ever-growing body. The future, due to this accumulation, would always be different as compared to the past. In contrast, the duration between two events when we measure time is not a continuous process but a disjointed, discrete, and isolated state. When we measure the interval between two separate events, we start our stopwatch at the beginning of the first event and stop it at the end of the second event. This is different when one experience time because the stopping of one’s heart or one’s biological clock would mean certain death and the end to time as experienced by that unfortunate individual. Hence, the static view of time is really more of less measured time because it assumes that time can be divided into instances like how we can divide moving bodies in a video recording into separate static images. This we know can never happen in real life because we simply cannot pause experienced time in its tracks.

Measured Time	Experienced Time
Similar to the Static View of Time Parmenides Zeno of Elea	Similar to the Dynamic View of Time Heraclitus Aristotle
Quantitative Can be measured using numbers	Qualitative Can only be felt and not measured
Discrete Can be separated into instances A video recording can be divided into static images	Continuous Cannot be separated into instances Life is a dynamic development that cannot be divided into static images
Homogeneous One hour is treated as the same as every other hour because the same measured time has lapsed	Heterogeneous Each experience in time is different, irreversible, and unrepeatable

The difference between measured and experienced time provides us with the solution to the paradoxes of the Zeno of Elea.

The first paradox is known as ‘the Achilles’:

‘Achilles running to overtake a crawling tortoise ahead of him can never overtake it, because he must first reach the place from which the tortoise started; when Achilles reaches that place, the tortoise has departed and so is still ahead. Repeating the argument we easily see that the tortoise is always ahead’.

The second paradox is ‘the Arrow’:

‘A moving arrow at any instant either at rest or not at rest, that is, moving. If the instant is indivisible, the arrow cannot move, for if it did the instant would immediately be divided. But time is made up of instants. As the arrow cannot move in any one instant, it cannot move in any time. Hence it always remains at rest’.

Both the Achilles and the Arrow assumes time to be only as measured time which is homogeneous and therefore infinitely divisible. If this assumption is true, Achilles can never beat the tortoise in a race because he is forced to match his steps with the steps of the tortoise. Using the same principle, the arrow that is moving would always be at rest because motion is impossible. Both situations can never happen in a dynamic and continuous reality of experienced time. Because the steps of Achilles are not infinitely divisible, he would sooner or later beat the tortoise in a race regardless of his initial handicap. Similarly, a moving arrow cannot be at rest because time is not made up of infinitely divisible instances but a continuous movement from the past into the present and from the present into the future.

For practical purposes, we still inevitably use measured time as a way to relatively determine experienced time for an individual. We also use measured time to synchronise events to enable joint efforts of human collaboration. Our civilised society would be in total chaos should people arrive at different times for work or finish the construction of the roof before the foundations. But just as the number three can be used to denote three imaginary homogeneous individuals (three human beings), we know in reality that each individual is distinctively different (James, Jack, and Jill).  In the same way, measured time can mislead us to think to that time is homogeneous and not heterogeneous. Measured time should be taken as a simplification and a generalisation that possesses a man-made quantitative property. Experienced time on the other hand, must be understood as having a qualitative property that can only be understood through experience. We would do well not to confuse ourselves between; the watch, a human invention that measures time and the watchmaker, the human being that experiences time.

Out from the Mechanical View and into the Theory of Relativity

The atomic clock that measured the vibrations of caesium atoms is unbelievably precise; so much so that it is accurate to within a few nanoseconds (1/1000 of a microsecond) a day. The precision of the atomic clock finally brought the downfall of Isaac Newton’s (1642-1727) mechanical view of the universe and endorsed Albert Einstein’s (1879-1955) theory of relativity. Newton like many others, took the view that the flow of time was absolute. This means that time flows equably without relation to anything external. According to such a definition, time is an absolute constant one-direction flow from the past through the present and into the future.

The atomic clock would ultimately prove Newton wrong. The theory of relativity predicts that a clock would slow as the speed of its motion increases. An experiment was carried out in 1971 concerning four atomic clocks that were put on board commercial airliners and sent around the world. Because the earth rotates towards the east (this causes the sun to rise in the east and set in the west), this eastward rotation would make a plane travelling east fly faster than a plane travelling west. The clock going east was expected to lose, according to calculations, 315 nanoseconds compared to the clock going west. The real outcome of the experiment however, was that it lost 332 nanoseconds; still proving that the theory of relativity holds true!

There seems, according to the theory of relativity only one constant and that is not time but the speed of light which is 186,282 miles a second. This was Einstein’s master clock because the speed of light never varies and there can be no velocity without time. The theory of relativity has many implications because it shows us that the very measurement of time intervals is affected by the motion of the observer. This means that each of us will not measure time in a uniform and synchronised manner. The old idea that all good clocks would agree on the time interval between two events is false! In reality, each and every one of us carries his/her own personal clock; all of which do not measure time in the same way because time is relative to the observer who measures it. Clocks carried by different observers would not necessarily agree with each other!

The theory of relativity also changed our understanding concerning the universe. Because gravity caused by matter (like the sun) bends both space and time akin to one placing a bowling ball on a trampoline, the presence of a large stellar object in space would cause light to travel farther between two points. Gravity caused by a planet, for example, would make time, relatively speaking, slow down. Consequently, our perception of time is therefore local and peculiar to our planet because time is affected by the gravitational field of celestial bodies in the universe.

A two-dimensional analogy of space–time distortion

If there is one thing that Einstein’s theory did not change in physics, it is the general direction of time. Relative or not, time as we know it still flows from the past into the present and from the present into the future. If this is not so, why then can we remember just the past but not the future? Why do we not see broken cups becoming whole again? Unlike other laws of physics that are time-reversible, time is asymmetric. We can observe the growth of a tree but we cannot see any tree un-growing itself. Physicist Stephen Hawking believes that there are at least three ‘arrows of time’ which all point in the same direction. The first is the thermodynamic arrow of time. The second law of thermodynamics states that there are more possible disordered states in nature than there are ordered states. Our world is one that is forever increasing in natural disorder or entropy as time passes by. There is only one possible combination, for example, that makes a picture in a jigsaw puzzle but there are many other combinations that do not make the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle into a picture.

The second arrow is the psychological arrow of time. This is the direction in which we feel time flows because we remember the past and not the future. Finally, there is the cosmological arrow of time that points the direction of time in which the universe is expanding rather than contracting. Hawking believes that the psychological arrow of time is determined by the thermodynamic arrow because we measure time in the direction in which disorder increases. The division between the two arrows, in my opinion, is more of a conceptual one rather than a truly distinctive one in reality. I believe that the difference between the two arrows is similar to one staring at the same object from different angles.

So what can we conclude from the theories of Newton and Einstein concerning the idea of time? First, time has a direction. Unlike space, time has both forward and backward directions. Thinking about the future means to look forward into time and reflecting on past events means to look backwards into time. Second, although we can rewind a video recording and watch things happen ‘backwards’, we do not see this happening in reality. This shows us that the sequence of events of things happening in reality is irreversible leading us to conclude that the flow of time is heading in one direction. Third, time as we measure it is relative to the observer and the notion of an absolute measurement of time must be abandoned. In other words, time lies in the eyes of the beholder and time as we measure it simply did not exist.

Defining Time: Its History, Problems and Solutions

Socrates (470-399 BC) once declared that in order to say anything about X, we must first be able to answer what is X. In order to talk about time, we must first answer; “What is time?” For different people, time means different things. A famous philosopher once said that time is nature’s way of keeping everything from happening at once. It is a subtle definition but one that is without practical implications. For a physicist, time is one of the building blocks of the universe. For a biologist, time is an internal clock that keeps plants and animals (this includes humans) in synchronisation with nature. Bankers on the other hand, would regard time as money, period. For John McTaggart Ellis, time is unreal, a mere illusion. For the rest of us which I presume possess a higher degree of common sense, time is so very real.

“Everything is in a state of flux,” commented Heraclitus (c. 500 BC). Everything changes or is in a process of changing. His idea is summed up in the phrase panta rhei which means ‘everything moves’. Indeed everything in the world seems to change in time. We may think of geographical positions as fixed. But in reality, a place like London is located on a planet that rotates on its axis which in turn rotates around the sun. Even for those things that we think do not change, they would at least age as time passes by. Some mathematical concepts like the Pythagorean Theorem, for example, have never changed; but we do put a number, probably thousands of years, that mark its founding to this very day. Even the Pythagorean Theorem in trigonometry has aged since its founding! “You cannot step into the same river twice,” said Heraclitus because “upon those who step into the same rivers, different and again different water flows.” Like a flowing river, time flows in one direction without ever looking back.

We feel the presence of time in two ways. The first is through our perception of how things change. The presence of time can be felt by noticing the interval when an object of our attention shifts its position by moving from one place to another. The second way is through our memory. Even when we close our eyes, we can still remember how an object changes its location without looking at the object at all. We can safely conclude that our awareness of time is present when we know the changes happening to an object of attention (both physical and mental) from the start to the end of a time interval and also by knowing the sequence of these changes. Hence, we first remember the initial physical position of the second-hand of our clock, look as it changes its position, register its new physical position, and infer mentally that one second in time has passed. In this manner, we feel time passes by when we observe the cycles of day and night, the phases of the moon, and the changing of seasons. But time is not merely linked to the sense of sight. For a person who cannot see, he can similarly feel time by measuring his pulse or heartbeat. In this case, the act is a more of a mental state.

The way we measure time differs from the way that we feel time. In a world of constant physical change, measuring time is essentially an empirical procedure of ascertaining a magnitude, a numerical value, or a quantitative property given an interval between two separate and distinct events. This can be done more easily when the changes that are being measured reoccur at a consistent interval. For example, the change from the presence of sunlight to darkness and then to sunlight again, constitutes a full cycle which we call one day. When we measure an event with our watch, we are basically comparing the state of change that the hands (or numbers in the case of digital watches) of our watch is going through with the change happening in the event we are measuring. Because the physical movement of our watch is consistent every second, we use watches as a timekeeping device to measure its rate of change relative to other events.

The Babylonians used this principle to adopt a calendar system with one year having 360 days, divided into 12 months of 30 days each. The Egyptians, perhaps being better mathematicians, adopted a calendar with 365 days and divided one day into two cycles of 12 hours each. The calendar that we so naturally use today on the other hand, can trace its roots back to the Roman Gregorian calendar named after Pope Gregory XIII in 1582. Our present day calendar is accurate to a day in every 3,323 years!

An Anchor Escapement

As human technology and knowledge in mathematics increase over time, more accurate timekeeping devices were invented to give human beings a better measure of time. The race for increased accuracy in the ancient times was won by a Chinese scholar called Su Song who invented the first mechanical water clock in the 11^th century A.D. This contraption was so colossal that it reached up to 30 feet high and was powered by a giant waterwheel. The most unique feature of this water clock was its escapement; a device that stops the clock’s movements at set intervals, forcing it to run at a consistent rate. The escapement is the reason why the second-hand of our mechanical watches change its position with a regular physical movement (the same distance) every second.

After the invention of the escapement, human beings were able to increasing measure time with ever greater precision. The first mechanical clock appeared in Europe in the 13^th century inside an English monastery. By 1884 many countries have started to adopt the Greenwich Meridian as the longitude of zero degrees. To the horror of the French, the line of the Greenwich Meridian ran through the site of the Royal Observatory in London instead of Paris. In 1915, daylight saving time was introduced but the winner of precision came only in 1948 when the revolutionary atomic clocks came into existence. The introduction of the atomic clock has changed our understanding of time forever.