Let the Light Shine In

And because Deepavali was a few days ago, someone passed me tealights when I professed that all my tea lights are in storage. For the symbolism of light's triumph over darkness, he said. And also knowledge over ignorance, good over evil, hope over despair, according to Wikipedia. Who wouldn't like that, I wondered.

And beside the incense burner that I got from India, which coincidentally, had the statue of Ganesha, the remover of obstacles, and the icon for wisdom and knowledge. Quite apt.

More often than not, I am grateful to be born in Singapore and be a part of this multicultural society. Although less than perfect sometimes, but where else in the world can you be in an environment where different cultures and religions co-exist and be expected to be accepted and acknowledged, and the stories of various festivals are learnt in school.

With that as a backdrop, that could be the reason that although different in format and doctrine, it occurred to me the the essence is the same - the presence of an almighty God and/or Source, the teaching of staying on the pathway of truth through enlightened teachers, self cultivation of the mind and devotion, and virtues of love and compassion, and of course many others. And if some religion's way of teaching resonates with you, then apply yourself to that and let it bring out the best in you. Cos at the end of the day, the incremental benefit to the world of a happier, wiser, more fulfilled individual is always a positive one.

So a happy belated Deepavali dear friends, and may the light be with you at all times :)

Drawing Straight in Crooked Lines

Tonight is almost the first night from the last month that I can sit down in quiet and settle down a bit. The last 4 weeks felt like microcosm of different worlds.

Classes and assignments felt like a moving conveyor belt of knowledge download, moving so fast one after another that I'm starting to get dizzy.

Running for student council played out like a gladiator arena of human emotions and show of ego.

Stepping into the door way of the spiritual realm provided a solace for reflection and centring amidst the crazy wave of things.

Having someone who you were almost wishing for every day dropping in on you this way was nothing short of the extraordinary.

Yet, somehow all of these were inter related in one way or another.

Sometimes, the dots are all scattered over the place and you wonder why are you made to go through those dots in the longest, convoluted way when there could be a thorough fare that links the dots in the most logical straight line.

But at the end of the day when you look back, you realise that the lines drawn through those dots just drawn you the picture of what you have always wanted in your mind.

Joy, Faith, and...Just Breathe.

I had a sort of a blackboard behind my door back then, at my first owned place, such that that is the first thing that I see whenever I enter the house or when I leave. It was originally meant for listing stuff that I need to remember, like grocery items and things I need to do. But one day, maybe because I had left it empty for so long (erm....ya, grocery and things-to-do are not exactly exciting items that I am that rearing to update every day), I took up a piece of chalk and wrote 2 words that came to my mind then - "Joy" and "Faith".

So, then that became the first thing I saw whenever I enter the house, and last thing before I leave.

Then, one day, I saw a quote that I really liked - "Sometimes, the best thing you can do, is no think, not wonder, no imagine, not obsess. Just breath and have faith that everything will work out for the best". So I wrote it on a post-it note and stuck it at the corner. So when I open the door to enter the house, that note is the first thing that peeked at me from beside the door frame, and the last thing I glanced at before I grab the keys (which was just beside the blackboard) and leave .

And those words were there ever since.

And worked for me ever since, every time when I feel frazzled with stuff that never seemed to make sense, or when things doesn't seem to be turning for the better.

I kept the note when I sold off the place, and it's now on the mirror in my room, so I still get to see it every day. "Joy" and "Faith" hadn't followed, but I think they are probably less needed to be reminded than the words on the post-it note.

It's uncanny how things are turning out now, just, probably, I should just breathe and have faith.

Reaching for the Heart

The heart was beating its usual beats,
beating, beating..
when suddenly, it felt a nudge
"Hey, what's that?"   the heart exclaimed.
Something  - fingers and a palm now more apparent - nudged again,
and then another prod.
"That's just rude" The heart vexed and uncomfortable with attempt of each touch,
moved itself away.

The hand of the fingers and the palm, lingering and confused,
cos all it wanted was to carry the heart,
as how it would a delicate flower,
to place on its palm.

The Last Day

The date on the paper caught my eye
as I sent it, together with the rest of history,
into the machine's shredding teeth.

Almost a date to the day
the motion was set one year ago,
when I was asked if I was keen
to take up the study scholarship.
"Of course. If they give, I take".
Simple and straight.

And so, months flew past
as I clear the various tests and interview.
That measure and cut
the applying hopefuls
into cubbyholes of Can-s, and Cannot-s.
Thankfully, I was sliced and diced into the former,
just in time to step into the year of the Horse.

Even so, it felt like a distant future
or even a possibility that has yet to materialise
(even to me now).
In the months that followed,
everything was done
in preparation for my leaving.
Cementing processes.
Conversations with relevant people.
Making sure that everything still runs
even when I am no longer here.

And everything promises to run,
even when I will no longer be here.

And then I feel the pang of nostalgia.
The sense that everything feels good and nice
and I wonder if it is a good move after all
to leave this snuggly place.

And then the sense of paranoia.
The sense that everything is set up for my departure.
Probably the place doesn't need me anymore
(of course it doesn't; you just made yourself dispensable)

And back to the paper
that just went through the machine's teeth.
From a pile of history that
spoke of the trials and tribulations.
Of sated hunger from late dinners and rushed food.
Of anguish from repeated edits and incomprehensible instructions.
Of fatigues from 14hour work days and midnight walks for the ride home,
that saw me back at the same seat in the cube 6 hours later.

Perhaps then it is apt that I saw the date
at the machine.
To remind me that whatever before then
is like the paper,
with its whatever thoughts, theories and principles,
that whatever had past was gone,
and nothing like its old self.

As with me -
that the old me
is gone.
Starting from that day last year
When I was asked if I was keen.
"Of course.
If you give, I take".

A whole new experience,
A widely different perspective.
A vastly different group of people.

If you give, I take.

多五天....

熟悉的生活也就要告一段落了

“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.” 
― Ernest Hemingway

What We Use

Things. Things? Things!! thingsthingsthingsthings....

There were the repeating thoughts over and over again for the past few weeks as I was moving. After a good one and a half year run on my apartment that got such a good offer that I can't refuse, and when school is happening in August, I decided to move back to parent's place for the time being while searching for my next good buy.

Moving back into an old space somehow gives a new perspective. Pre loved things with no more functional reasons are still hanging around, like clothes that I never even remembered I had them, that coin bank that was chucked at the back of the shelf, that bag that I hadn't used for ages....I am, categorically, a hoarder. And I am sure I am not the only one...space that I emptied out was somewhat invaded by my sis, whose bags and clothes far surpassed me when I was her age. Looking at all the things that I am surrounded, I suddenly wonder how much things that one really need.

The last few years have seen me become more conscious about...things that I consume or use. It started with shark fin, which led me to think about why we eat the way we do. I wonder why we buy so much stuff we don't need, taking resources from the things we depend on for our survival (the sea, the land), and then make them redundant to become waste and toxic, ironically , to the very things that we depend on for our survival (the sea, the land, the air).

Especially with my own place, and a small one at that, I start to be more circumspect about how I live

• I start to recycle stuff, re-selling them or even donate them for free (craiglist is dabomb! Salvation army too!), just that it is a pain to find recycling bins, especially those which are not already abused and treated like normal rubbish bins.

• I re-discovered repurposing via Pinterest (the DIY page always excites me no matter what..kinda bring out the nerd in me), and repurposed stuff into wrapping paper holders, watering jug, box for all the laundry bags and knick knacks... next project, I'm going to redo the face of my old Ikea clock since the mechanism is still working but the face was crumpling on me. 

• I start to take less plastic bags and shopping bags (do I really need that bag to carry a small piece of puchase? Nah, I'll just dump it into my bag), and I carry my own bag for grocery shopping and other stuffs. This actually solved my problem as I was struggling with the number of shopping bags and plastic bags that I have that threatened to overwhelm my drawer space. "Aiya so easy..just throw them away if they are getting in the way!" Sure....so these bags were only useful for that short time from store to home, which seem a great deal for nothing for the material and effort that went into making them..If so, then why take them in the first place?

• I have my own Keep Cup that I use for my daily kopi runs ( I hate Starbucks and the likes, give me a cup of kopi anytime. Exceptions though for artisan coffee :p ), which at least saved 15-20 disposable cups on my account every month (though I decided to stop buying when they raised the price -  a cup of kopi for $1.60?? No thanks.) and I declined taking disposable cutlery if I can help it. Hey, it's even easier to eat with proper fork/spoon/chopsticks that I keep in my office than those filmsy plasticky things.

• I bring my own water bottle and not buy bottled water if I can help it. Note the latter caveat. I am not going to refuse bottled water if that is all I have access to at the moment. The leap of faith happened in India, where we, being worried about drink water even though it was boiled, tried to buy bottled water in Lachung, North Sikkim but was told it was banned. Why? Because the water there is from the mountains, and technically, spring water. Plastic bottles will only pollute their environment, and why would you want to drink water from those plastic bottles..when spring water is all around you? Right..but I dont trust the pipes :( Anyhow, we drank the boiled water and yes, we survived. So, why do we need bottled water in the first place when clean water is all around us in Singapore?

• I buy clothes only when I have enough hangers or rather, if I am willing to "give up" a hanger. It started when I bought this set of white hangers from Daiso when I first shifted to my place just cos I am tired of hangers of all jumbled colours, and guess what, Daiso stopped carrying the white hangers ever since. Crap. Either I get hangers of a different colour, or I just live with it. But I stuck to the latter. It somewhat made my life easier as I don't have to fight with the hangers anymore (you mean your hangers never get entangled in the wardrobe because they were cramped so close together?) and it has definitely made me change my shopping habits. I only buy stuff that I really, really like, since getting any additional clothes will force me to "decommissioned" another piece. And if you think about it, where did the cheap clothes come from? If they are so cheap, that transfer in cost could probably have been a result of cheap (exploited?) labour. 

Well, it was not as if I don't take plastic bags at all - I still do when I am running low on garbage bags (I always favoured NTUC plastic bags - just the right size!) and there were times when I decided to just trash recyclable materials when I didn't have time to seek out the recycling bins, or succumbed to using disposable cutlery when otherwise, there weren't any other things I could eat with. But just the thought about where these things came from and how many hands did they pass through before they became what they are, how long are you going to use them for (30 mins maybe for that disposable cup?) and where they going to end up - landfill? Incinerator? I am sure like any other things on Earth, there has to be a more meaningful purpose for every object and matter, than for them to only serve a short life span before dumping them into the great mass of nothingness.

Just a matter of putting some thoughts into what we use, when we are using them., but still, it never amaze me just how much waste one person can even generate on a normal routine basis.

I digress. For the past week, I have bee ruthlessly thrashing those things that I can't salvage, listing out items on craiglist to sell off and giving away for free, beside donating items which no one will take up to the Salvation Army.

Hopefully a new start again on being bogged down by less "things".

Literally found this in the middle of my "rough paper" stack. Was clearing the top few shafts after they were scribbled on, and found these three lines staring at me:-

I don't even know when these were written (they were written by me alright..I definitely recognise my ugly handwriting).

How creepy. 

In these last few weeks, I have been fretting a lot.  A LOT. And of course, I attribute it to my impending departure. I know why I am doing this cognitively, and I have dishing out the rationale to anybody who ask, but somehow it sounds hollow and contrived to my ears. Sometimes it may take a while to surface, but when I try to search inwards for a plausible reason, I can't exactly fish up any form of thought or feeling why I an feeling this way. 

Really need some reflection time, before any real alarm starts to ring, like how it happens whenever I know I hit a "bad boyfriend" patch.

Facing my demons

Recently I have been pretty conscientious in getting to the yoga classes (good for me!). Bored and dangerous, I figured that I probably have a find a channel to release some of those pent up energies and a focal point, before i really get cranky and dangerous..like make some CSM (career suicide move) or something (at least not at this point when I am literally counting down the days).

I was one hell of a frazzled self when I stepped into the studio. I was waiting for a few conversations to happen at work the whole day, which of course didn't. And I guess even if they did, I probably wouldn't have handled them well. As usual, I tried to sit in meditation for a while before class starts, and that's when the thoughts came flooding in...

Why do you think it will happen?

Ok, maybe I didn't deserve it

How sad your life is right now..if only...

No, no..why do you even think you warrant the attention?

Ya, you and your impatience and nasty temper. What made you think that they want to talk to you? If your temperament had been better, maybe you will be more approachable and wouldn't cause so much grief to your parents and the people around you.

I really want to get out of the rut! I refuse to let this episode bog me down! I swear I will live a larger life! For no other reason, just because!

As you can imagine, it got pretty crowded and loud in there for a while. I can feel my face was scrounging up and eyes tearing at the last part for a bit..

And then, suddenly, one clear voice rung out....

"Why so drama..."

(I swear it was as Singlish as it could get)

And everything lifted and became dead quiet and calm. I opened my eyes and suddenly everything around me looked so different without the red hue, realising that I am going back to the bad habits of creating "stories" again..the vicious loop of self criticism and denial, creating the negative fantasy world where I dish out all possible bad scenarios and lay every blame onto myself. 

Once that idea was sorted out, it felt like someone turned on the light and all smokes and mirrors disappeared. That laid out a smoother path into the actual class, which was great as usual, and probably easier with the calmer mind.

And as it turned out, things turned out quite different than what I thought..the messages did come on my way back home - my boss tried to look for me after I left the office; he sent me a short text on his thoughts, and my replies were all cordial and polite..so all was good in the end. 

No more drama - easier said than done though. Well, at least one thing that I am definitely grateful for, is the chance for the thoughts surfacing earlier on in the evening, so that I can face my demons right on.  Not exactly the most pleasant thing to do, but better that than them lurking in the dark waters.

病

今年下来，每一次出国回来都会大病一场。太弱了，温差一大，旅程太累，身体就垮了。

也难怪，最近没好好地照顾体魄 。运动量一直没提高，一而再，再而三地生病，要提高也难。吃方面，也没之前那么警惕。蔬果菜类维生素摄取的少，免疫力也受打击了。

这次病了有大概一个星期，身体虚弱，做什么都提不起劲儿。觉得整个人昏昏沉沉，精神也觉得消沉了些。这个星期，就这样浑浑浊浊地过了，觉得挺浪费的。

好想去一次长跑...下半年，可别再那么容易受病了。

Quiet - Susan Cain

The sub-title of the book caught my eye - "The Power of Introvert in a World that Can't Stop Talking". Especially the last 5 words, those especially resonate.

When I told some friends that I was an Introvert, they were surprised. I guess to most, I appear outgoing, engaging, and definitely not an Introvert (especially when I was pushing my agenda during work meetings). I often wonder why too, until the book introduced the idea of a "fake Introverts" - introverts who feigned being extroversion when the social setting requires or when they really feel passionate about any issues.

I knew (or at least I thought I knew) was during JC when the school arranged for us to do an MBTI test. My MBTI score was INTJ, and I remembered that I was that slightly confused or disappointed of the "I" rather an "E" score - I can be quite boisterous at times, and hell, I was playing in team sports and ECA committees all my student life. But since I was a marginal "I", and it was explained that marginal scores could swing as we grow up. So that was it.

My score did change, but not in that "I" department. 

I knew I love solo activities like reading, and spending time working on stuff alone (like, thinking how to upcycle stuff). I like my space, physically and mentally - I set up my cubicle so that half my space is shielded off a cabinet, when I could finally feel "safe" to settle in and start focusing.  I cringed once when a colleague stepped into my cube beyond the cabinet (!!!) without asking and I could feel all my hair standing on the back of my arm and back. 

I hate making small talk, and always find meeting new people pretty pressuring as I have to think very hard what to say and at the appropriate moment (like, when is the appropriate moment to slip off without being rude. Had to feign some detour a couple of times so that I don't have to speak to acquaintances for longer journeys). It's always hard to find people to talk to about topics that I am interested in, either I don't find or feel the right frequency to talk to them about those pet topics (I rather chew over them in my own head) or it's too deep for some people's comfort. Know me long enough though, we can talk for long hours about anything under the sun.

Giving presentation terrifies me. I used to have weekends and weekends of pub hopping but now I find that they drain me; I definitely prefer to go home and do my own stuff, unless the invitation comes from someone close to make it worth my effort to get out of the house. 

I wonder how did I survive adolescence, especially majority of the time with a team of 20 hockey girls, where we spent so much time together, and for some extended periods, cooped up in hotels for training trips and tournaments. I was known as the silent (and often grouchy) one who didn't talk much or what I was thinking about. Going around to team mates rooms to talk (and gossip) were tiring affairs; I would rather read or do cross stitch in my own room. I  remember having bouts of doubts, like why couldn't I be more lively like some other team mates who were having more boisterous and in my eyes, definitely more popular.

But survived I did. I decided that I was definitely more comfortable doing the things that I like. Sure, there are times when I still felt envy of people who are definitely more exuberant, more outgoing, but I think I have come to terms with it (or I think i have).

And now, it's like in those TV shows when you had to relive through those adolescence fears again, I wonder if I will survive school, and in this time, probably requiring a higher level of participation... I am cringing just thinking about it.

Blind WIllow, Sleeping Woman - Haruki Murakami

"No matter what they wish for, no matter how far they go, people can never be anything but themselves" - "Birthday Girl" in Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman

Grabbed this book on a whim, while trying to balance 4 other books on the other hand, during a spree in an Indian bookstore in Bangalore. Books in these ubiquitous bookstores are so much cheaper than anywhere else in the world, and sometimes comparable or cheaper than the e-book versions. And I think I am probably prepared for another Murakami read. Took me a looooonnng time to get over the depressing Norwegian Wood and disconcerting 1Q84. And even though it was riveting till the end, what was Kafka On the Shore about?? Amazingly, I hadn't put the book down for a single moment, and I am no book snob.

Different from the earlier ones, this was a collection of short stories. But some stories gave me the creeps still  - the kind that when the punchline came, made my eyes tear a little, my nose twinged a bit. Like the following:-

• Ever heard of a dab chick? It's palm sized creature, wears glasses, who thinks about death all the time. Neither the protagonist, until it became a real entity when he conjured it in his mind. (Come to think of it, that's what happen when you think of anything - fear, power, sympathy, love - and the thought manifest as reality.)

• What if you are given a wish, and only that one wish, on your 20th birthday, which you can't take it back afterwards? If you do change your mind later, what do you have left for the rest of your life?

• Do you have a 'poor aunt' - an aunt who is often sidelined from being too poor, too lacking -  that sits on your shoulder like a shadow, peering over at whatever you do, and whom everybody can see? How did 'she' get there in the first place - did you "think" her up?

Probably go grab another of his books soon. Maybe in India which I am going soon again :)

天冷就回来 音乐剧

“天冷”的前两回都没去看。有意思看的，但没人约。第三回了，终于约到了位友人一同去。

一首首熟悉的新谣，听出耳油。尤其是那首 “新加坡派”，勾起小时候，八十年代和九十年代的记忆（过后，有想到，不知道梁文福会不会修改歌词，带进两千年后的变化和感慨）。有些歌曲，脑子里，还是听到颜黎明的歌声。

之后，才知道：－

• 之前，“麻雀衔竹枝” 没得上演，因为掺杂了广东话，被列为禁歌（！！）。
• 阿强1和阿强2 － 2007 两个男人的拥抱戏因为被视为伤风化，过后实践剧场的辅助金被撤回；2009时没得上演。

现在看的时候，还理所当然，还不知道后面那么多故事。其实，事情，剧场的演变，也代表了民间意识的开放和转变。

想到实践剧场的另一出戏老九, 虽然两出都谈及少年的梦想和牺牲，但我还是被老九感动些。可能是比较新鲜吧，还是比天冷较为单纯。

总之，还是值得看的一出音乐剧。 希望本地华文剧场越来越生动出色，出品更多的音乐剧话剧！

The Grand Budapest Hotel

This is a movie, about a girl who is reading a book, written by the author who is telling the story, of the story he heard many years ago, from the proprietor of the titular pink hotel.

I can understand why some would not  understand what's the fuss about the film. But the first line itself says much about stories, whether written or narrated verbally, transcending time.

And stories being stories, have a life of their own once they are told. The caricature of characters, the stunny visuals of settings where the story took place, reflected the imagery world that is created in the world of storytelling - colours are brighter, movements are exaggerated, everything becomes larger than life.

But aren't that how any stories play out in your mind whenever you hear them? :)

Decisions decisions decisions......

Ok, the plan was supposed to squeeze in one more trip before the Indian visa expires in June. With some thoughts and plans started months before, thought that it would be a shoo-in. But...some things just didn't feel too right and the edginess became more pronounced as days draw past. Should have known better before I let it boil over.... knowing how I would feel strongly about certain principles and moving in too decisively to the point that appears to have no other recourse (the "F" and "J" functions in INFJ playing up).

And somehow, I can hear the silent chuckling of someone somewhere out there..laughing at me for counting the chicken before they hatch (Right..I heard you the last time..)

With one option down, the world became a flux of endless possibilities (now it's the "N" function screaming..sometimes they are really just a pain!) and they are driving my thrown-off-the-track mind into overdrive, to try pick out the best possible options so I can focus my planning efforts on -  Should I still try to go India? Should I join the other group to go somewhere else? Or try to influence them to go India? Should I go to Shangri La which I have been wanting to for the past few years? Or maybe even wait till end of the year for Argentina so that I can crash with L who will be there for the Hockey Women's Champion's Trophy - maybe even go Pantagonia when there??)

And now, I wish I have more leaves cos I want to do everryytthiinnggg, cos every option looks so good and promising...

India 2014 (1) - Bangalore

To begin with, I went on this  trip knowing that I will likely be attending a wedding in Bangalore. With a few hits and misses with work schedules,  we finally settled our air tickets and I found myself in India again after barely 3 months.

 Not that I am complaining :)

The wedding was an eye opener with the people we met from both sides of the family, layered against  the colours, the sounds; and definitely much more interesting as we were helping out with the bride's side (compared to if we were just part of the crowd that came and watch the ceremony to give their blessings). And of course, finally having the change to wear the sari...which I am not sure when I would have the chance to wear it again (it's up for loan, people!).

The wedding celebration aside, we also had the chance to explore of Bengaluru and itsp outskirts a little bit -

Commercial Street with all its many lanes filled with fabrics, drapes, and trinkets which almost seems like a women's wonderland.

My photo didn't do the bustling street any justice at all. I was too busy looking at earrings..

MG (Mathama Ghandi) Road where we stumbled onto a second hand book store called Bookworm. Lose me in a bookstore, especially in India where the books are at least less than half price = heavier luggage. Thank goodness we didn't chance upon the  other book store, Blossom, which was supposed to be much bigger.

Sharavanbelagola to see the Gommateshwara

And all they way to Halebidu to see the Hoysaleswara Temple. It was definitely worth the travel all the way out there (and the 5 hours coach ride back!). It felt like a small temple, which you can probably finish walking in about half an hour for a look see, but to really appreciate the wonders of all its carving, none two the same and even more intricate than those at Angkor Wat, it would take at least 1-2 hours to look at each face and relief. Not a UNESCO site yet, but I hope it will be.

 Missing his looted arms..

The nandi that was supposed to be the most beautiful bull carving in India. 

Counting down to the next trip!

Staying Grateful

Ever since the retreat, I have been keeping a journal to write down daily 3 things that happened that day I am grateful for.

Maybe it was the talk over dinner about the Committee of Inquiry , and the circumstances and conditions of the foreign workers in Singapore. Maybe it was the article that talked about leading, rather than living, your passion. Or the TED video in the article, which talk about celebrating work (actual, manual work), rather than looking at it as an adversary.




As I was writing the 3 dailies, somehow, the hand guided itself to add a 4th :

"I am making a great living. It's a good life!"

Indeed. 

I wonder if one of the hallmark of growing older, is having more self doubts.

Could I have done more? 

Is that really the right choice?

Gosh..should I have said that?

Is it what I think she said?

Do I really want this?

What would others think?

Should I have done things different?

Whereas, I can imagine myself having skipped all these questions and jumped straight to self justification right away ("Of course I should/can/shall/will!") like maybe ten years ago.

Is it because we become more circumspect, having come up against walls ourselves a few times,  fallen into unspeakable pits a few times, been at the receiving end of the stick a few times..that we realise the frailty of our actions in trying to get the best outcome out of every situation,  the limit to what we know (and grasping some form of realisation of the vast ocean of things that we probably don't), and basically, shit happens and you don't exactly have a say when it does.

From another perspective, perhaps these questions are our perennial nemesis, to keep bugging us so that we constantly contemplate and reconnect - who we are, what drives us, what we want. Although it feels like there is a need to come full circle, my gut feel tells me that I am probably only halfway around the circumference.

Ok, emotional feelers hypersensitive and probably overworking today.

A Great Big World - Say Something

I prefer the original version, without the big name (and voice) of Christina Aguilera backing up the duet. More haunting. 

Reminiscing

Sometimes, things don't go your way and it feels like some evil forces began to form this dark cloud around you all of a sudden - cloying, blinding and suffocating .

And the only way is to bite down, brace your shoulders, lift those legs that felt like they weigh a ton each, and take that mighty difficult step, one and a time.

When you look back at that dark cloud after a distance, you wonder how did you even manage to get through that mess, and wish that there is some way to tell the you at that time, engulfed in the dark cloud and probably believing that you wouldn't make it out alive, that everything will be ok.

Yes, everything will be ok.

Note to myself sometime in 2012 crossing to 2013

Random thought

As I looked up from my book (so much for not buying any more hardcopies, but I couldn't resist when I saw how cheap books were in India), I saw that many others are equally engrossed..in their smartphones.

It shouldn't amaze me by now, since I started leaving the car and started taking public transport more nowadays. But today, I wondered how time in all were people's time being sucked away at checking Facebook updates, playing candycrush/plants vs zombie/any other faddish games now trending, surfing the internet on their mobiles...

And if all the time spent is grouped together, how vast this time/space zone might be. Enough to turn back time by maybe 10 years?

I have weird thoughts sometime....this time, I blame it on the fever. 

That aside, time to practise more mindfulness myself, spend less time on the mobile, look up and live the life that is ticking away by the minute.

Tricky "Does It"

Will you fight for a cause?
Will you break all the laws?

Will you come back again?

Remember by when

Are you living free?

Have been nursing the sore throat for at least 6 days, which usually means having the low grade fever that usually is part of the package. Too fast trying to keep pace and picked up work where I left it off before running off to India (I like the sound...and mental image of it. Thinking back, that was kinda what happened anyway :p), with the deadline looming and all, the body finally put up its protest and decided to stage this face off - "Rest or else?!"

The "or else" came fast and furious. I went through the presentation with the fever running, and feeling really drained out by the end of that day. Even with rest, the body is keeping up its campaign, probably in protest for not listening to all the warning signs on the first two days back in office. 

With the low grade fever and sore throat, it was not debilitating enough to rest the whole day, neither did it feel ok enough to venture out. In the end I was so frustrated from doing nothing that I just went to run, hoping that maybe the boost may just kill off the infection somewhat. Bad idea. Grrrr....

Maybe I should listen to more Tricky's tracks to channel off some angst. 

India 2013

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” - Terry Pratchett,  A Hat Full of Sky

And the trip was done. Just slightly over 2 weeks, but finding myself wanting to stay longer. 

Even though when somehow, everybody back home was still surprised that I wanted to go India, and to some's horror, that I went on my own to Agra for even a day. Horror stories abound about the dangers of women travelling in India, one which allegedly happened on the day that I flew home, that friends and family were obviously quite disturbed to know that I had also took the auto rickshaw on my own to the railway station, Nizzamudin no less, the day before. Hearing all these stories, i could only thank my lucky star or guardian angle for watching me at every turn, in staying safe and sound.

Horror stories aside, it still amazes me the people that I have met along the trip are generally friendly, which I doubt even Singaporeans would offer the same politeness or (gasp) friendliness to the tourists that we get here. I have met passerbys, shop keepers, service staff, fellow tourists, who are willing to chat a little more with you, if only you are willing to start or continue the conversation with them. 

Of the 3 places - Boyd Gaya, Amritsar, and Dharamsala - they were so seeped in culture of the history and anthropology, that, having not blogged from the start of the trip, I got my hands on a notebook at Dharamsala and sat for 3 hours straight at a cafe just to journal down what I had seen, heard or thought for that 1 week of travel, writing non-stop that the woman who shared my booth seat tooted her amazement to me before she was leaving the cafe. 

It leaves me to wonder about what the other places in India can offer. Obviously more than I can imagine, given by what I have heard from my fellow travelers, as even within the same country, the people are so diverse at its different corners, that it sounds to me that that would almost be like visiting a different country altogether. 

Really hope to see the other parts of this country soon!