all begins with L

Phrase of the night,

“You try everything once, and some things should remain as once.”

Ta-tak-tssst.

“When we die, we lose the past not the future.” –Salman Rushdie.

I thought that was the most brilliant obversation of death, to date.

We live to create a beautiful past. Because memory is desire satisfied. Otherwise, it’ll be known as fantasy.

And sometimes fantasy breeds hope. And when there’s hope, we continue to make a living. Because at the end of the day it is the past that we’re creating, to leave behind, eventually.

I used to be that chap who nobody wants to work with because the meaning of ‘work’ had yet to take its root in my vocabulary. So I was constantly lumped with people who preach life likewise.
Some of you might even have cursed in silence for having me as your seating partner in class. I remember those days. Good old times*

I guess there’s limit to everything including being a bum itself.

I evolved. Thank God.

And when you get tired of something, you tend to seek the exact opposite state of a being.

Now losing sleep and weight and being completely absorbed in this thing called ‘work’ seem to be my life itinerary. No, only for things I love (to do). And yes, getting over the uniform-phase is the best transition of my life.

And the best part about varsity life is having summer holidays. But Singapore got no season what? Why can’t we just call it June holidays.

Because then, we have to call it April-May-June-July-August-Holidays. Some people get bored, I don’t know how to. And I don’t wish to know how because I am fillled to the brim, doing stuff I love!

It has been submitted, finally. Gosh, I am so tired of hearing myself.
Thank you, you and You and YOU for your support!

I haven’t been updating for a while solely because of a project-insane that I’m working on. I have three days left to get this RIGHT. I won’t make an announcement here about it yet. Because I’m old school; I don’t want to jinx it. I thank those who have helped me in kind and in soul.

I really really really want this. I have lost weight over the course of doing this because my appetite is all used up for this. I will be back in four days time.

Dear God, please…

In the Birthplace of Karma Sutra

We were lounging at the tourist office while waiting for our train to arrive when he started talking to us. With the remaining bits of our traveler’s spirit, we entertained him. He told me that he wanted to bring his family to Thailand for a vacation as a gift to his wife for their tenth anniversary! He even got me on the phone with his wife to say some congratulatory words to her and took out some pictures of his children from his wallet. It was very sweet of him.

So we gave him some tips on accommodation and airfares, to help him to save some money while at it. Then he started asking “Is it safe for my wife and children to stay in the hotel in Thailand?”
I replied, “Yes, generally it is quite safe, even in Bangkok.”

Then he lowered his voice and rephrased, “I mean, is it safe to leave my wife in the hotel while I go out?”

I replied, “Yes of course.”

He then continued in his broken grammar, “How much women cost in Thailand? Is women easier in Singapore?”

As someone puts it, India rips you off from the capacity to be surprised or shocked. At that moment, I faked a smile, took my bag and leave for my train. As a woman traveling in India, sometimes rage becomes your only weapon but it’s mostly best to act otherwise. Perhaps there’s no where else in the world where one’s patience is truly tested at every aspect of life, from train delays to the likes of it.

Toast to quarter life crisis.

Peer pressure no longer revolves around smoking, having a steady(wah, so long never use that word), or that latest polo ralph lauren bag that your bestfriend owns and swears to God that she will never talk to u ever again if you buy the exact same one. You did it anyway and yes it took her exactly three weeks before she started leaving alpha numeric messages to you again. Toast to that one fifth life crisis of the angsty punk rock minalicious days.

Now that most of you have hit the twenty smthing mark, peer pressure evolves into another league of its own. This time the parents along with your peers form a tag team in the WWE (When is your Wedding/Engagement?) ring. In this league, a steady is now officially known as boyfriend/girlfriend because the word steady is reserved for those who are taking their PSLE.

You might disagree that having a life partner is a consequence of peer-parent pressure but it is inevitably an indirect a catalyst to having one’s OWN companion. Don’t have to go so far ahead la, say by the time one is 18, your ring of companionship starts to have new faces in it, different gender, same gender. Gradually, this social circle of yours begins to dissolve. From your daily hang outs with your comrades, to weekly, from weekly to monthly, then soon it becomes a “meet-during-whoever’s-birthday” gathering. If by this time if you don’t have your OWN companion to call each night and wish good night and then spend another hour or two tease-quarrelling on who should put down the phone first, you’d probably feel as though nobody in the world gives a damn whether you have tuck in your bed without the bed bugs bite or not. Isn’t that peer pressuring?

Okay that’s the peer part, now the parent(s), most of the time it’s the parent(mom).
Because of one of your cousins starts attending monthly family gathering with their significant other, your other cousins began to do likewise (not out of pressure but of domino’s effect, since she can bring i also can bring mah…this only appplies to those who are around the same age or no longer wearing sch uniform). So the showcasing of potential new family members begins… come second gathering, third and fourth then comes the first engagement day in your generation. For a while nobody says anything then whoever pulls the trigger first will set another chain of repetitive enquiries come every family gathering event.

“____, takde bf ke?” which directly translate to “____, don’t have boyfriend arh?”

Initially the mother will not interfere but gradually she starts droppin’ innuendos about finding the RIGHT type of life partner. Then she starts hinting to you about which race and religion are of preference which she will strongly defend that it is not racism but merely an easier choice to relate to and make merry with.

“If you marry an Arab arh, _________, he have two, three wives blahblahblah. If you marry Chinese blahblahblahblah. Javanese people are good. But if Boyanese/Portuguese/Christian_______.” This is when I find her fluidity of catagorizing race and religion highly amusing. Then she will shoot out another “You going out with Ang Moh is it?!!”… By this time, I should already be making my way to the laptop to delete school emails.

You see, I thank my parents for not being too eager to be grandparents. As for my peers, I’m happy for them truly for finding that love. For some of us, despite the wonder, the occasional day dream, the yearning for some, to give love and be loved, love itself does not come easy. Some found love but can never be theirs, some receive love but never give back, or two who found love that can never last, what do you do?

You drown yourself with work, with deadlines so idle time ceast to exist, temporarily because loneliness hurts as much as having love does. So yes, this is the quarter life crisis for some. For others, nothing as such bothers them. That lucky few, perhaps have other self/mental/spiritual crisis in hand, perhaps something like fuct, I don’t belong to this country anymore.

Oh well, cest la vie baby, cest la vie!

I’m going to sound like such a bum…

This is the first day in ages since I last greeted the morning sun. I’ve taken quite extreme measures to start the day in its a.m. frequency but to no avail. My productive body clock has conveniently shifted to 2 p.m. onwards and it refuses to shut before five in the morning. Thus reflecting the self as an unemployed, couch potato (note: channeldiscoverytravel&living), temporarily useless of a being who snores her way through the day and spents her night msn-ing before ground hog day repeats itself.

So how did I manage to break the curse?

I went out, borrowed a couple of design books (one with green velvet cover!) and made love to them till late night before having a deep confabulation with a friend till wee hours in the morning. So by the time I booked in (back home), it was almost sunrise. Cleared the inbox while waiting for Subuh, and then went on to finish the last few chapters of a book. By then, The Sun Has Risen!

I was awake at seven in the morning. (let me say that again) I was wide awake at SEVEN in the MORNING! woohooooo…..

And I haven’t slept ever since. Perhaps the accumulated energy build-up over the course of my excess bedtime has come to take effect. I call this Good Insomnia.

So long as it is not a real diagnosis.

… was where I had dearest dysentry, unfortunately.
Most of the pics were taken in the first two days in Darjeeling before I was bedridden for the next couples of days or so…

We had a day of pillian riding with Sisir & Nardeep (brothers) who volunteered to sacrifice their precious hols to have us some awesome chillin’ ride around and up and down the mountain!

In preview of our white water rafting~ which didn’t quite materialise due to unforseen bowel movements.

Not only fresh air…

India at its most unlikely~

Its gorgeous gorgeous view and miles and miles of walking up.

A story to tell.

I will make a comeback, in the very near future. This time having my digestive system in check.


Credits to Poppy for her amazing shots. You’re greatly missed from all back home~

Artsy Darjeeling at Eatsleepart.

The motherboard finally handover all of the grand tour pics to me before she made her return back to her motherland. So yes, here’s a start from Calcutta,

Two of the most common mode of transport; a real rickshaw and if it ain’t the yellow taxi taxi taxi!

The raw energy awaits the morning dealers of all things.

The gentleman doing his hourly headcount.

This signboard is a piece of art. Silence Zone in India? Are you kidding me.

Killer Shish Kebabs at Peter Cat.

More on Eatsleepart

Had a car ride with my first x bf in his first car. My first ride with him though he has had his license for ages. Then came the traffic police giving him his first warning for speeding at 4am in the morning while he claimed that it was his first conscious effort (on road) to look out for the men in white. “Of all days, it has to be with you…”

Well, Mr. H I am your first x gf.

And yes, it is the first of not having you around for more than three days. I pray for your safety on board the many trains and trishaw rides that you’ll be having. Send my regards to mother cow. And don’t get too wet. Heh.

I pray for your return as fat and fluffy as ever!
Love you many many, purrr…

“… as a lesbian socialite.”

I’m not the comic geek type but this is worth a read, considering that DC Comics sued New York art gallery last year for housing an exhibition of watercolours featuring Batman and Robin in “intimate” positions.

“…If I had known how bad it was, I’d have printed a shirt that goes “You look really stupid LOOKING (at me) like that, really.“before landing myself in India then.”

–Eatsleepart

I’d do likewise.

I came back from India about a month ago, and everything seems to be played in a fast forward mode ever since. I was living it, the sneak preview of the corporate vacuum, of life after the big twenty one. Opportunities were knocking, and I was listening to all but one.

The spa offer came by. Enticing, amazing prospects, brilliant people to work with and of course, I love it because they were talking in figures and hey, that’s what business is all about. On the other hand, issues closer to the heart began to resurface, and this time the outcome and consequences of my decisions are more real.

Thus my abrupt decision to leave the spa after barely clocking my days into it.

For those who hold greater financial burden, money tend to be the central focus of success; it is the single most common choice heuristic made in the ever material world. At times disregarding our talents to opt for a more practical route. Some of us tend to be blinded by commercial success, compromising the masterpieces that the self is truly capable of. Some of us have little options because someone has to bring food on the table.

I guess I’m one of the lucky few whose allowance goes beyond the basic daily needs.

If there’s one thing I learnt this summer apart from how-to-survive days in India, the thirst for more of those short term gains and doses of pleasure will soon become the bane of my existence, losing the grip of what real success is to me.

I need to place time over money, to make decisions and preparation for a more long term prospect. Between time and money, lies an undying struggle of a passion. The next time I land myself in the departure hall, it will no longer be a mere summer vacation.

Some find it rash, foolish. But I’ve never been so sure in life. And I thank you, for understanding.

… I love my girls!

Many many.