The Joys of Life

It has been 3 days (edit: make that 3 months as I stopped drafting this halfway and have been busy till now) since I touched down in Singapore Changi Airport and it has been a long period of recollection of memories and experiences gained while in Rockhampton, Queensland, reaffirmation of what I already know and reminiscing. Lots and lots of reminiscing.

For the uninitiated, Rockhampton is a small, quaint town. Laid back and quiet, it channels a different vibe from Singapore. For the tourist then, this is a bane, for shopkeepers pull down their shutters 5 minutes before the stated closing time. Last order is at 9 for most restaurants. The streets are quiet at 6 pm. This was the town in which I spent my 10 nights.

In the days, I was off to Shoalwater Bay Training Area for work. Battling sand flies, horseflies and other critters, enduring the scorching heat (up to 40 degrees!) in the day and freezing cold at night, this trip was not an easy one. Waiting around for things to happen - to be rewarded with nothing.

Why reminisce then?

I boldly proclaimed once that I could survive without human companionship; as long as I had all the basic necessities, there was no need for anyone to be beside me. Thus began my long struggle between proving myself right and desperately wishing I was wrong.

This trip has shown me how wrong I have been.


I have been to Australia for an exercise before, the exact same one I went for this year. The previous trip was short, uneventful and filled with a singular purpose - work.


In the first six days of my trip, everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Wrong location, wrong timing, wrong instructions - all these worked against me, worked against us. This being a common occurance, I was not surprid. What seemed out of the ordinary was this: not once was there any grievance aired. Sure, there were mock grumbles and the odd jab at our predicament, but the bunch of people I was with gamely stepped up to the challenge and took it in their stride. "No need for apologies..."

So, it was not the town, it was not the training area or even the troops that were there that made this trip any different. It was the team that went Down Under, the people from the different departments that made the trip bearable and even somewhat fun.

It was the 5th night that we spent outfield. While I froze in the outback at night, wishing I had prepared a little more for the stay, it was Hel on Earth. Yet, that night yielded the greatest experience I had ever endured. It was the enthusiasm of friendship that kept us watching the galaxies and shooting stars, the warmth of company that allowed me to survive that cold desert night.

I loved that most memorable night. Thinking back now, I wouldn’t have wished for any other situation.

In my job, I have met people I cannot work with, people I can work with, people I can live with and people I cannot live without. I was wrong to say that I did not need human companionship - I now think that I would die a little each day if I did not have someone to talk to everyday. During this trip, I have made friends, strengthened working relationships and re-evaluated others.

I have also forged a friendship that I hope will last for a long time to come.

To Lose Heart

It is better to have love and lost than to have never loved at all. Paraphrased (as close to the statement in my memory as possible) of course, but no less true.

Today, I woke up with a realisation that to lose love is to lose heart. The illustrations of many a publication should have given me this cathartic conclusion but idly, my mind ignored the subtleties of the images. When someone leaves you, be it a relative, a spouse or just a significant other, they take a piece of you with them. Neither gray matter nor osseous tissue, but an unseen muscle.

The heart is hidden and protected via wondrous designs - the thick flesh of the pectoralis major, the flexible yet strong ribcage. Yet, the metaphorical heart can be lost so... easily.

Given and never reclaimed.

When you love someone, you will never stop loving them. How else can you love? To lose love is to lose heart: to lose the faith that the world is not such a cruel place, the belief that there can be some purpose for existing other than to survive and procreate, the strength to strive on to be a better man.

Carry on then, as an empty husk of a human being. For without heart, there can be no living.

Bookmarks

I have not been on this blog for a very long time. A long break from the monotony of work should have fixed that, but when things like this fall out of habit, it is not something that comes to mind.

The impetus for this post stems from a friend leaving Singapore today and from another friend's writing sometime back. Of course since today is a no work, lazy afternoon expanse of time, mass media has its hand in it too. What else can fiction do except mirror real life?

It will be another year before I follow the footsteps of many a Singaporean student. Taking a flight that lasts 6 to 24 hours may seem a necessary evil for a temporary stay. Make that stay more permanent and a flight becomes more than just stepping on a plane.

I am not one to use bookmarks - the physical piece of card, often with a frilly tail - to remind myself where I have stopped in a book. I rely on memory (I am on page 142 in "Kidnapped" by Robert Louis Stevenson) or in most cases, reading the book till the very end before putting in down.

Chapter is to book as ________ is to life. Word associations aside, I can only fill that blank with a single word. A flight next year would change that altogether, flipping the page to a new chapter. Thinking about it now, I am desperately looking for something, somewhere, some-when or someone (a combination of everything listed would be nice).

Just to be a bookmark, to be here unchanged and unrelenting, tucked between the pages to let me know that I still have something left behind that I have to come back to. No matter how deeply in love I fall with London.

And I looked over my shoulder at the people still standing there. I wave my goodbyes; they can't hear me anymore.

Hello, is it you you're looking for?

Before a friend of mine left for the United States of A. last year, she messaged me on Google Talk and we talked for a little while. Bearing in mind that she was someone I had not spoken to since we graduated from junior college, I was a little surprised.

She poured out her insecurities, her doubts and feelings about leaving here. No, not so much about leaving, but more about choosing to go there. I did my best to soothe her troubled mind, acting merely as an accessory to help her calm herself down.

When I next talked to her, she was there enjoying herself completely. I was glad for her.

Thinking back, I have never understood why she chose me that night. Why not one of her closer female friends, why not one of her closer male friends for that matter? In junior college we barely talked, past graduation I never saw her again before she left; I now consider myself her acquaintance.

Expanding this thought further leads to suggestion that I have never become more than an acquaintance to many of the people I have come to know (with notable exceptions of course).

Existing for everyone else,
Living for no one at all;
Knock on my door:
Is it you you're looking for?

Proposing contentment as the panacea to all unhappiness is good in theory. In practice though, how can I be satisfied with being only a conduit for all the problems people face? To solve things for others and never share the spoils.

I am still waiting for you to change my mind.

$

It is at the enabler of dreams. It is the root of all evil. It is a construct, one that is indispensable. It is never enough - enough is never enough.

Missing

I miss school. I miss seeing face-to-face people I care for daily, instead of the ever so scarce opportunities today.

I miss the time when things were simpler, when there was less responsibilities and more frivolity. I miss hearing laughter at the most retarded of situations.

There are so many things that I do not realise are missing till they are lost.

My only regret is that I never got to know people better while I had the chance. Now it is gone.

I will never get to know you better.

So Quickly

In 4 days, I will have served my nation for 1 year. In this one 365-day span, I have lost much and learnt much. I have lost my hair, my girlfriend, my liberty and time. Through it all, I have learnt so much about the army (due to my vocation), that I can be anything I want to be with some effort, that everything that is supposed to me mine will eventually come back to me.

In another year, I will be done with my service. I will be one step closer to the rest of my life, which involves me leaving everything familiar behind for a strange new world.

It is too early for goodbyes, but I now feel the urgency of appreciation.

The Stark Realisation of Crowded Loneliness

I woke up one day, went to work and by lunch had a realisation about how alone I was when I did not conform to the world's expectations of me. I have turned down invitations to drinking sessions, clubbing nights and parties, knowing that I do not believe that having a good time involves such revelry.

As a colleague remarked, "If you go to Zouk with us, I'll pay for everything. Because getting you to go is harder than getting Osama bin Laden to convert to Christianity." I take this comment with pride and I thank my colleagues for never blatantly faulting me for choosing not to go out with them.

With such choices come labels - "loner", "anti-social" are the nicest I can think of - that describe the behaviour. In a world that values cohesion between individuals, silence is no longer golden. Yet, society dictates that such cohesiveness be forged over drinks and (sometimes) the drunken bawdiness that comes with it. Most of the time, at the very least.

I cannot comment on the allure of clubs, bars or parties because I have never been to one. But I have to keep to my moral code; I do not have to be there to know I should not be there. I much rather have a good one-on-one meal with a friend, talking, laughing, bonding. Without the need to make yourself heard over loud music and through dulled senses, shouldn’t this make so much more sense?

I find that there is no sense of closeness within the youth of today except through the conformation to the unwritten rules of enjoying life. By these rules: no, I cannot be a friend till I have seen you puke your guts out into a drain before falling into an alcohol induced coma on the cold bitumen. No, I cannot be true until I have wiggled my way into a dance floor with you, packed to the brim with sweaty grinding individuals partaking in legal molestation. No, I definitely cannot understand you because I have only seen you clearly in the light of day and not through dim cancerous hazes of indoor air.

Though I have mentioned that my colleagues never faulted me outright for my absence, the effect is clear. Energy levels go up on two occasions - a memory of drinking, or a plan for drinking. I am left out of such conversation and though I know it is the right thing to do, I cannot help but feel left out sometimes.

There is no way I can wake up from all of that and still feel at ease with my God, my parents, siblings and myself. I have a duty to each party I have mentioned and expectations must be met. Though there is a loneliness associated with non-conformity, loneliness I can deal with, guilt I cannot.

I end this note with a short prayer: Lord, grant me strength to resist such obvious temptation and in the process honour you in all that I do. Let me be an example to those around me, be the salt and light for you. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.

There are dreams; and then there are dreams. Sometimes, you are stuck in a elevator that never rises, never falls, the blasted sounds of quiet sickeningly pleasant music deafening you. A fantasy world that you refuse to leave, yet you find yourself plucked from it by your eyelids fluttering open. A fall from an unknown place that jolts you awake. A place where everything, and nothing, makes sense; nothing, and everything, is rational.

In your mind you can do anything, be anyone, be anywhere. Get lost in the smallest expanses in its recesses. Explore the most improbable of situations and pick the one that you like the best. Then you wake up to a reality that chooses your chains.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. The chains that bind sets your limits. And though they start off suffocatingly tight, each attempt to break them loosens them. Yet man is oft tired of liberty and sooner or later that cold steel cocoon becomes a refuge, a place where everything and nothing matters.

In there, man has the peace of mind to dream.

I write.

I write with an eloquence not found in my speech.
I write to hold back and not to reach.
I write in brevity yet randomly ramble.
I write just the body, with no preamble.

They Do Come True

"Don't wish, don't start,
Wishing only wounds the heart..."

It has been a while since I have blogged. Halfway through my post, I realised that I have used those lyrics in multiple posts and overused would be an understatement.

The truth lies in the context when your wishes do not come true. When they do though, the heart sings, yet it weeps for what might have been.

I wished for a chance to study a certain course. I was denied that chance locally. Now, two offers lie waiting overseas. They wait, but I am uncertain if I should accept one.

A friend of mine would be happy to have a single offer (he was rejected from all), but these rejections give him a second chance to apply to new places and see where he could go. The lack of options open new choices, and I would love to have that right now.

I wanted to reapply to a college of my dreams. I did not think I would love it that much. Visiting it recently though has condemned me to staying outside, looking in.

I cannot forgo what I have already been given. The returns would be great, more than I could ever imagine. But, the sacrifice is too much, the gamble too large. Certainty given up for uncertainty - a definite irrational choice.

My heart pines for the irrational. This feeds the indecisiveness I have grown to hate.

Lord, give me the courage to firm the offer.

Lightly Salted

"An elephant in the room" suggests that something present should not be there. It hints that it is in but not of the room.

A pink elephant then stands out even more. It should not exist, but when it did, it represented the hope I had for the owner to be in the world but not of it.

We are told to be the salt of this earth, to be a light unto the world. In simpler terms, a thermostat and not a thermometer: to change the temperature and not merely follow it as it fluctuates from Hel to Hell.

The world is a terrible place. People are leading terrible lives. Though we all have to be a part of this world, we cannot become like them. They have to become like us and we have to find a way, with God's help, to make sure.

12:14 not by choice

Pain negates whatever bliss rest might bring. Fitful slumber is but a myth, all dreams interrupted by a jolt of conscious tenderness.

Gone are the days when I have to find a way to stay awake. Now, I have to find ways to fall asleep.

Good night world. Hope I will be exhausted soon.

The Ache I Feel

Don't dream too far,
Don't lose sight of who you are
...
Don't wish, don't start,
Wishing only wounds the heart.

The land-of-what-might-have-been has been my refuge for so long that now that I have one foot in reality, the light isn't warm and welcoming.

Cold and blinding, that would be a better description.

Cold

Single latte,
Spoon, fork and knife;
Looking across the abyss
An empty seat waits

Walking
Smooth tiles underfoot
Alone, hands in pockets
Not together, hand in hand

Nothing else,
Unfamiliarity alone.
Unforgiving stares,
Passerby to passerby

Glances at
Paired bliss stealing away
Six inches into glass
Face faces Face

Hands fumbling,
With buttons, not flesh
Shut out hope of contact
With reality of imagination.