The Lighthouse

Back in first year of college, I usually sat in the 3rd row from the front of the lecture hall. There was this boy who takes 2 steps at a time down to the front and always sits on the 2nd row. In fact, I never needed to check where the lecture was held; I just needed to see where he was sitting to know. He was like the lighthouse that I navigated by.

As years went by, I moved further and further away from the front rows that by the third year of my course, I always sat at the back. There were some subjects (totally unrelated to my course) that came naturally to me. Then, there were others (related to my course) that despite all my efforts, always appeared to be a cryptic code that I could never decipher.

That boy who sat in the 2^nd row? Well, we had a ‘falling-out’ somewhere in second year, simply because he wouldn’t borrow me his homework to copy. What a scrooge?! I thought to myself that if he ever needed my notes or homework, I would definitely not lend it to him. But of course, that day would never come since I never took notes or do my homework before the eleventh hour.

Somewhere in my third year, I shared more classes with this ‘boy’ and I got to know that he wasn’t a scrooge, he just had his principles (albeit weird ones). I also got to know that we shared nothing in common. Absolutely nothing! We happened to take Spanish lessons, to which he drove me to. In return of the favour, he tortured me awake in the wee hours of the morning to play tennis (if that’s what you call it when one person throws the ball and the other misses - to my defence, I was sleepy!) and when that failed, he threw pebbles at my window to wake me from my afternoon nap to go jogging (very slowly). Finally, he resorted to teaching me the guitar (or trying to anyway).

We fought about everything. The radio station, fashion, how we chose to complete our homework and etcetera, etcetera…but we spoke a lot too, about our families, ideas on a relationship, views on a random topic…

I wasn’t going to fall for him. At least, I did not intend to, until he asked me out for a concert, pushed a random guy who came to close and gently flicked away a strand of hair falling over my face with his fingers.

One week later, he proposed.

It’s nearly four years now. We still argue about everything. We still talk about everything. A steady light that has guided me through all my rough patches in life and shared my happy moments, he is still and always will be the lighthouse that I navigate by.

One Full Circle

I was decked in a pink and frilly dress with a hairband to match. It was one of those rare occasions that makeup was allowed on 7- and 10-year-olds…but I don’t remember much from that day…the little that I do remember consisted of the can-can (net-like material that makes dresses poufy) digging through my skin, my lips almost plastered together by the lipstick and stumbling on the tarmac to land on my face, hands and knees and ripping through my panty-hose in the process.

It was my first-ever experience of walking down the aisle.

It was my uncle’s wedding. I was one of the flower girls. My cousins were page boys and my brother was the ring-bearer (more like pillow bearer since he never saw the rings until the end) who led the procession.

Almost 18 years have passed. In 4 months, come 17 November 2012, I will be walking down the aisle myself. But this time I won’t be in front. My dress will be white. Not pink and definitely not frilly. I will be exchanging the hairband for a veil. I hope not to stumble and land on my perfectly made-up face or satin-gloved hand.

I will have a procession of my own. It will be led by a 1-year old, the daughter of my brother the ring-bearer. She will be joined by my uncle’s daughters and son, the same uncles for whom I once walked down the aisle for. The flower girls who once walked with me are now married and would be watching from the pews. My cousins, the page boys would be the men who would help to usher the guests.

We have come one full circle now, have we not?

Butterfly Fly Away...

If you like something, you gotta let it go...and if it is meant for you, it will find its way back...or something like that I've heard...

But really, if you really liked something, why let it go in the first place?

Take for example, dreams...if you wanted to be a doctor, but for some reason had to let that dream go, twenty or thirty years down the road will you be able to do it? You may have the opportunity but will you? Can you?

So, isn't it better, if we had something we like, to just grab on to it, hold on tight and never let it go...and even if it still escapes somehow, we can still say 'at least I tried...very hard'

I guess, at the end of the day, whether we hold on to it or let it go depends on one question...

Is it worth it?

Sunday Morning Soliloquy...

There was a time when I would gladly walk under pouring rain...no worries about the phone in my pocket. I just had to open up my Nokia phone, leave it to dry and 'hey presto!' it'll work like new again...

How times have changed...

I now have an iPhone in my pocket...even the slightest rumble sends me running for shelter...

How times have changed...

Skies filled to the brim with grey clouds threatened a morning shower. But it did not prompt me to hasten my steps...

I actually stopped to avoid an ant trail. The surprising thing is not that I avoided an ant trail, the surprising thing is that I was actually walking slow enough to see one...everything seems to be on fast forward nowadays. I honk at a slow car, sidestep those on a slow pace and run to catch trains when the doors are closing...

Today. Today just seems different...something about it just makes me want to hit the slow-mo button. Walking out of church on this gloomy Sunday morning, I felt like I was the only one awake while the whole town turned over and decided to sleep in...

It was quiet. Even the rustiest engines seemed to whisper. The sound of the tyre kissing the asphalt, usually drowned by the hustle and bustle of the city, today, was deafening.

The sound of my feet crunching the gravel appeared unwelcome against the rustle of the leaves. I felt like an intruder, invading their privacy.

A tiny drop of rain that fell on my cheek could have almost been mistaken for tears...I brushed it off and caught another with the palm of my hand. A perfect sphere in the middle of my life line.

I walked past some dilapidated war-time buildings. It was probably the pride of the city in it's hey-day. The building itself as great as the person within it's walls. Even in ruins, the shadows of it's majestic past is unmistaken. Ignorance seem to be destroying it faster than the elements could.

As I headed step by step to my undefined destination, flashes of memory hit my mind. What has my life become? How is it that I have missed all things around me? In my pursuit of a better life, am I failing to live the life I have? Am I like a horse on blinders with view limited to what's in front of me rather than all around me?

Would I one day be like those war-time buildings...broken by mere ignorance?

Counting the countdowns...

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...kaboom!! heard it last night (or early this morning)...I woke up with a start (considering how early I usually sleep and also that I am so light a sleeper that even the ticking of he clock wakes me). Its Malaysia Day..and also the 3rd countdown of the year...Since I was awake anyway, I was suddenly thinking about countdowns and people's obsession with them...Why do we countdown?

Take for instance, the New Year...what do we think about when we countdown? all the happy things that happened throughout the year? like 10 (got a new job!), 9 (found my soul mate!), 8 (found rm 100!!), 7 (err..), 6 (ran out of good memories...), 5 (dang! now am feeling horrible), 4 (thank god the year is over!), 3 (thank god for a new year!), 2 (but not as if that's gonna be any better...), 1 (AARGHHH!!)...HAPPY NEW YEAR (or NOT!)...or do we think of all the bad things? But what's the point of that? Not as if you can change it 10 seconds before the new year comes...so why do we count it down?

Then there is Merdeka..now Malaysia Day...and who knows what else...why is the last 10 seconds of the previous year or the 10 seconds before the new year matter so much? Why do we let 10 SECONDS discount 365 days that we have...why do we reduce all the good things and the bad into a mere 10 seconds...is that all there is to the last whole year? or the whole coming year for that matter? its like a year's 10 seconds of fame and then we jump back into routine and monotone..10 seconds of fireworks and cheers and slaps on the back then we go back to our 'same ol, same ol..' isnt every new day important? isnt every second we take a breathe and live important?

If a countdown is something that marks importance then shouldn't we be counting down every day? even when we wait for the LRT on the way to a new job (I wouldnt recommend that if you are waiting for the Commuter or Rapid KL buses though...), or when we wait for the bride when she walks down the aisle? or even when we wait for the sun to set or rise each day?

So...why do we count down?

Been there..Done that...

This was the one time that I didnt even have to think of what I was going to call this post...it just came to me...'been there...done that...' or have I? I have finally stepped into the working world..3 months ago, after my final exams, i thought to myself, "am gonna take a week off, then am gonna get this awesome job with an awesome pay packet and finally start enjoying life..." 3 months later, here I am...having done 3 jobs in 3 months and moving on to the 4th..it makes me think a little of the past...of all that i have wanted to be, all that i was...

When i was little (very little..mind you!) i wanted to be a nun (i know a lot of people would laugh..) complete with t black habit, hood and rosary...just like in 'The sound of music'...but that dream ended quickly...as soon as i heard that nuns sleep on plywood, eat less, pray alot and worst of all, don't have Dutch Lady UHT chocolate milk..YIKES!!

Then one day, I heard my mum say in passing that lawyers earned a lot and all you have to do is talk..that made an impression in my young mind...and after that, all that i really wanted was to be a lawyer...until, i read in the local papers that a lawyer got shot with a gun in a busy highway! i mean i wanted money...just not enough to die for it...

So for a long time in my young life, i was floating...whenever any adult asked me what i wanted to be, i'll just shrug and say 'dont know'...and they'll give me this weird look and start singing 'que sera sera...' (aarghh!! after a while i hated that song..who was SERA anyway? and why did she ask SO MANY questions??)

I ran through all the possibilities..doctor (blood - YUCK!!), teacher (kids - ICKY!!), fire/policewomen (uniform not 'girly'), nurse (uniform pretty but patients not pretty...) and the list kept going on and on..

When I reached upper secondary, i more or less started having better ideas (thanks to a wider vocabulary)...for a while i wanted to be a journalist (then i realised i dont like writing serious stuff like news) or a newscaster (but then again, i am afraid of going in front of people)...then i just knew it! i wanted to be RICH and FAMOUS but that wasnt really a job...hmmm...

So after form 5, i did my 1st real job, at my uncle's tour agency and I decided i would own a travel agency, so much money and a chance to meet so many foreigners (and who knows, i might even find myself a rich and handsome foreign boyfriend!! like in the movies where foreign princes come undercover and fall for normal girls and make them famous but then not many princes actually come to Malaysia now, do they?)

So, i went on to do form 6 and then went to work in a bank...have to admit, it was pretty fun...high pay (for an 18 year old..), pretty clothes, off days...and then i thought "this is it! i am gonna be a banker!!" then offer for university came and i said again "why be a banker when i can be a scientist??" so i went on to do 4 grueling years in a science course and came out convinced that i NEVER wanted anything to do with science!

In between those 4 years, I worked as a promoter, customer service assistant, salesgirl and even a stint as a medical lab technologist..and i although i liked it all, i didnt think i would spend my whole life doing any one of it...so i came out of university thinking..(again).."this is it! i am gonna be a banker!!" but eventually i started working as a barista (where i learnt how to make and drink awesome coffee) then i went into a hotel as a front desk assistant (where i decided most rich people are silly and think too much of themselves and so do the staff who handle them..geez..they are people, not GOD!!) and then i struck closer to home and worked as an underwriter...honestly i hated the job! it was monotonous and boring and repetitive..but i kinda loved my friends..they were nice and funny..which got me to think...of all the people that i have met during my 'job experience'

Taking it from the top...in Donaplus T&T, Mr Ganash Suppiah, Ravi shankar uncle, Pastor Dass, in HSBC, Budi, Andy Wong Dai Fatt, Prenisha, Rayven, Sheila akka, Mr Tay Tian Siang, Geetha, in Memory lane, Miss Penny, Joanne, Ken, Kak Ina...in Awana Vacation, Kak Meera and Nurul...in Dutch Lady promotions, Wilson Tan, Fong, Michelle, Shue Feng (her name means snow..) and the 2nd time, alex, bharani, vince, carmen, in Assunta, Angeline, Yamuna, Mr Patrick, Suresh anna, Eeswari, Bairavee, Koh chin yoke, norma...in starbucks, andy, abg hazim, abg khairul, sia pei chun, farid, fatiha, izuddin..in the hotel, kesavan anna, velu anna, muthu, velan, vick anna, jolene..in Hong Leong Assurance, Ku Weng Kia, Eunice Quak Sheau Huay, Nicholas Liew, Oscar, Cherylyn, Kak Nor, the security kakak (i dont know her name)..and then there are the faces..i remember everything about them except their names..in their own way, they have each made a difference in my life, they took something and left something..a memory, a smile, some tears...

And now, here i am again..about to go to yet another job..in Maxis...Is this where I find my niche? Have I finally found home? honestly i dont know..what do i want to be? that is one question that is again going unanswered...

Little.

The little things…

It always is, isn’t it? The little things…although seemingly little at the time…it changes, manipulates and influences almost all the biggest decisions and events…like the little stone in the hand of Shepard boy David that brought down the giant philistine Goliath, like ‘little boy’ that blew Hiroshima to smithereens, like a little raindrop that causes floods that sweep whole villages away…its always the little things, isn’t it? They can make you and they can break you…

The little things makes a lot of difference you see...like, have you tasted custard left just a little too long on the stove? it either congeals too much or it burns...or if you add just a bit too much salt to food, how it blocks every other flavor...and you think to yourself, if only I came a second earlier or if only I put in a little lesser...

Or remember the time you woke up 5 minutes later or couldn't find the keys or maybe stopped to let an old lady pass or even stopped to pick up a coin on the road only to reach the bus stop and find that you have missed the bus by a fraction of a second and had to wait aeons for the next one...and you think to yourself "one second, just ONE bloody second..."

Then there are the little words or gestures that are said and done..or even unsaid and left undone...like when you receive a call from somebody offering a job which you have waited for, for like months and saying everything you knew you had to say and then, the moment you hang up, you realise that you forget to ask them their name and when you call back, you don't know who spoke to you...or that time when you waited months for a call back, and the day they decide to call you, your phone battery dies because you left it on a minute too long, or charged it a minute to less or maybe it was just that one day that you decided charging can just wait a little longer coz u were too lazy to do it...

The little things can be mean at times...like when you see a chick fall out from its nest, and just when you're about to reach it, a cat swoops down on it for dinner...or when you see a glass too close to the table's edge, and you tell yourself "nah...it won't fall" and then it just does, when somebody accidentally flicks it with their little finger...

The little things...they really go a big way...the little smiles, the little sorry's, the little touch, the little memories...the little things...seemingly small when you have them, leaves a big impact only when its lost...