the roads are getting nearer

Sunday, September 25, 2005

` Sunday, September 25, 2005

What is it about the patter of raindrops against a window pane that brings about a wave of melancholy to a person? Here I am, sitting at a desk with my laptop, in a beautifully refurbished hotel room, tucked beside a cavernous bed filled with plush pillows and a thick duvet, lapping up my dinner of fried rice and a can of Coke and typing yet another frivolous entry. In anticipating the somewhat tiresome routine of another work week in a foreign land that seems both inviting and well, a little unfamiliar, I'm suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of involuntary solitude and vulnerability.

Somehow, the need for change is a strong desire in itself, necessary to embrace a potential transformation of one's psychological well-being. Yet, familiarity beckons in a manner that makes one feel reluctant to part ways. At the moment, being at the crossroads and evaluating the path of life seems like a really arduous task.

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` Sunday, September 25, 2005

Just when I was about to contemplate the possibility of considering a work stint in Hong Kong for a couple of years, the heavens appeared to be telling me otherwise.

On Friday, the weatherman unleashed the warning of a tropical cyclone hitting the island on the weekend. Shrugging it off as the mere likelihood of periodic showers (partly due to a lack of experience), my family and myself decided to forge ahead with the planned itinerary, which included visiting the newly launched Disneyland. Big mistake. Or rather, an unavoidably big mistake, since the park tickets were purchased prior to arrival.

Nonetheless, we managed to snap photos with Mickey and his friends (long queues notwithstanding), who were most likely compelled to make an extended appearance, in order to appease the restless crowds because of the torrid weather and the fact that the park is currently about half the size of its overseas counterparts. The most disappointing news was the cancellation of the fireworks display, supposedly to be the highlight of the visit.

On hindsight, I realised that I had blogged about bad climate back in Goa and London earlier this year. The same rainy condition plagued our visit to the theme parks in Gold Coast, despite touring the city in the summer month! Talk about bringing turbulence to the places that I go. Let's hope all these events are pure coincidences.

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Friday, September 23, 2005

` Friday, September 23, 2005

It’s interesting how a business lunch can easily break the ice between two individuals who have barely spoken to each other, except for the polite pleasantries exchanged in the daily grind of work life.

Let’s call him PP (for the evergreen Peter Pan). The individual in question is, in my opinion, strangely attractive in his own non-conformist demeanour. This is one well-heeled metrosexual who looks and talks young at heart, making me feel highly ashamed of my “getting older” perspective of life in the mere late-twenties. His physical appearance reminded me of the lovelorn poet in Shanghai Baby (although I reckon that they must have extremely disparate lifestyles), what with his dreamy faraway eyes, longish fringe and tall, lanky frame. By the way, he also happens to be a very senior manager in a supposedly rigid compliance role, hence the visual contrast at first sight was startling to say the least.

I inquired about the appeal of Hong Kong that had convinced him to stay on for the past ten years. He drew the comparison between Singapore and Hong Kong as being poles apart in terms of the pace and lifestyle. He felt that the latter city possessed an unspeakable ‘vibe’ that was sorely missing back home. People here are constantly on the move and there are always lots of activities for the uninitiated, as well as the ease of travel to other major cities, all of which brought a sense of glamour to the host country.

My return trip to Hong Kong brought an almost about-turn impression from the last visit. The afternoon conversation only served to reinforce what I had now envisaged as a real possibility. A wave of urgency has surfaced within my psyche, strongly beckoning for a move outside of my comfort zone. I can only hope it's not a temporal remedy to address my current state of inertia.

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` Friday, September 23, 2005

Your Fortune Is

He who fishes in another man's well often catches crab.

I've inferred from today's revelation that I'm supposed to be sneaky and attempt to take advantage of a situation in order to reap the rewards. It's too much of a bother, really. I'm not a particularly big fan of seafood too. By the way, when did crabs ever make wells their home? Thankfully, incoherence is a good sign for a Friday morning.

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Sunday, September 18, 2005

` Sunday, September 18, 2005

An uneasy, prolonged silence had crept into the theatre hall. Towards the end of the film, an elderly man was weeping unrestrained in the arms of a stranger he had just met. The pain from having to live without his significant other who had passed on didn't get to him, until he saw for himself the courage and strength of the very person that he was seeking solace in. Fighting back the tearducts, the lights came on and the crowd quickly filtered out of the cinema.

The aftermath effect of watching Eric Khoo's Be With Me hit home a message that my daily mental 'battles' with nondescript issues seemed a trifle too meaningless. The protagonist, who had lost both her senses of hearing and sight since young, managed to lead a fulfilling life learning a new language, traversing the globe and offering her unique experiences to the younger ones who had to soldier on with the same physical limitations. It was the personal triumph of mind over matter in reality that had affected me deeply.

Perhaps I do really need a fresh perspective of how to live life to the fullest. In the meantime, I'll endeavour to stop for some precious moments and to smell the roses I have unknowingly gathered over the years.

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Thursday, September 15, 2005

` Thursday, September 15, 2005

Recently, our little sunny island had been shrouded in a cloud of intrigue and fear surrounding the increasing numbers of people afflicted with dengue fever. To avoid a potential SARS-like outbreak, the government has been actively devoting significant resources addressing the problem, which involved the formation of a high-level taskforce and frequent newspaper coverage of the status of the fight against the dreaded Aedes mosquito.

Kudos to the politicians for making it such a concerted effort to address the problem. It also makes me more appreciative of the fact that the experience of living in Singapore is not fraught with frequent terrorist attacks, civilian wars, turbulent hurricanes and bizarre weather changes (and maybe even stranger powers of authority).

On a lighter note, the area where I live had been identified as a "hot zone" for the breeding of the damned insect. The hilarious thing was how my sister and I flinched, itched and scratched our way back from the night market that had been set up across the road from our house. Once we realised we were right smack in the affected area, the imaginery mini-predators came attacking our minds and we walked as fast as we could back home, only to realise the unnecessary hysteria.

So much for drama on a slow and boring Tuesday night.

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Sunday, September 04, 2005

` Sunday, September 04, 2005

In my opinion, Mitch Albom writes simply but effectively. No endless meandering of words to get to the crux of a story, which was refreshing for a change.

Reading The 5 People You Meet in Heaven was heart-wrenching in some instances and thought-provoking the next. Which was why I picked up Tuesdays with Morrie subsequently from the bookstore shelves, eagerly anticipating to learn about the finer lessons in life that were much ignored in the daily grind of days past.

With no offence to the book, I thought of the 3 people I might meet in Heaven (if I do make it there of course):

Person #1: The childhood bully who snatched my yellow plasticine animal on the schoolbus home and threw it out of the window. On top of making my life an absolute living hell for the rest of my kindergarten years by traumatising my rides home and conscientiously avoiding (out of fear) to walk through his parents' shop below the apartment block where I used to live, much to my family's amusement.

I would like to thank him for my somewhat testosterone-charged later years, accomplishments included punching a cherubic 7-year-old boy in the stomach after much taunting, and becoming part of the Mean Girls alumni in the secondary school and junior college years. Have I mellowed over the years? Does attempting to wear skirts and cursing in limited Hokkien and Cantonese count as My Fair Lady -worthy? Did I tell you how keen I am to take the mickey out of him if our paths were to cross one fine day?

Person #2: The kind elderly lady at an old folks home ten years ago, who told me how much she appreciated just listening to me clumsily tinker on the faded ivories, and how I reminded her of days past. I'd like to thank her, on my parents' behalf, that all the money they've spent on trying to make me the next Vanessa Mae have at least been appreciated in an intangible way, far more valuable than a recording contract and performances at the Royal Albert Hall. Then again, if only I had resolved to finish the final grade 8 theory paper...

Person #3: Mr Z, a very senior executive whom I was convinced pre-meeting, was going to dismember me with a hatchet and feed me to the vultures, just to teach me a painful lesson for my lack of work experience and feckless youth. Armed with b*lls of steel (prosthetic ones, of course) and a going-to-die attitude, I faced up to a half-hour prickly business discussion with the man, who was not only physically imposing but kept me on my toes with his booming voice, only to get a pat on the shoulder at the end of the session with a chirpy "You're very good". I would like to express utmost gratitude to the man for puncturing the very essence of my delusional pessimism and wanton humility.

Somehow, the lessons learnt in life come from the people whom you least expect to leave an impression.

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