It's Friday

Beautiful Friday evening sky appearing before me just as I was walking towards the swimming complex. I paused and stared at the sky for a while, just soaking in the wondrous phenomenon that is one of everyday's beauties.

Before Easter

Before Easter Sunday, it was wholesome Saturday. A run in the morning, trees gazing, reading a magazine, brunch at a bakery with Adrian, Kel & Ruth, hatching plans for a short getaway, bike shopping, enjoying 饺子 (dumplings) in the late afternoon, and watching a good foreign film at night.

Happy Easter!

Good Friday

Good Friday: Tea with the soon-to-wed Jon and SM.

SM is pondering her next career move, to which I told her to quit and be a Tai-Tai.

Ever the sharp-tongued woman that she is, she flashed her infamous smirk and shot back almost instantly while pointing at the blameless Jon: 'DO YOU THINK MY HUSBAND IS EARNING ENOUGH?'

It's always nice to meet both of them. In between serious discussions of political news and gossips about other common friends and acquaintances, there is no lack of sharp-witted bantering and friendly exchange of sarcastic observations.

I didn't offer this, but would have liked to say this in response to her rhetorical question: 'Yes, he may not be earning huge sum, but I have no doubt you can still be a Tai-Tai and be supported if you so decide to be one.'

And add a smirk to that statement, too.

Awake. Chase. Pause.

Awakening - beneath the sunlit sky from the east



Chasing - keeping to the madman pace



Pausing - looking skywards past the parallels

handsome sleepyhead

27 days later, he's grown a little chubbier, but still a sleepyhead, albeit a handsome one :)

Thoughts on a rainy saturday morning

The toads' ceaseless croaking has finally eased somewhat, giving way to a quieter neighbourhood even as other early afternoon stirrings are emerging. There is still a drizzle falling on this last morning of March. They are the final drops from the downpour that started since 4am. I am guessing this was when the rain started as I was awakened by the loud pelting raindrops at that unearthly hour, only to slip back to heavy slumber shortly after. When I awoke again some four hours ago, at 7am, the blustery weather has still not abated. The Saturday sun was tucked behind a blanket of gloomy clouds that showed no signs of dispersing. It was perfect weather for sleeping in, but I was wide awake and couldn't get back to sleep.

After a breakfast of kway chap at the kopitiam, I returned home to enjoy the remaining cool weather. It is nice to stay at home on a rainy weekend morning, away from the air-conditioned office, cool breeze whistling, having time to think about things instead of working away as on most typical mornings. I read the papers - something which I can only do during the weekend now - and tidied my desk a little. Sitting in my room and sometimes staring at the space outside my window, I feel a very simple sense of elation within me, conscious through my own thoughts. It's a feeling of quiet comfort that one sometimes find in a moment of transient equanimity. You feel no sense of ill but experience quiet contemplation that can lead to a sense of inner peace.

I treasure my weekends very much these days. Not that they have suddenly more precious or that I was squandering my weekend life previously. But now that my weekdays are productively spent on work - very hard work - I find it so important that I get a good rest to recharge and refresh when the weekend comes. Perhaps this newfound sense of happy weekending is felt now because I was never quite able to enjoy my weekends fully when I was in my previous job. Now that I am freed of events, training sessions, clearing backlog work and a whole host of other programme-related work, I feel a greater sense of balance returning to my life. The most concrete evidence is the fact that I have been cycling more regularly; and not a weekend pass by without me either hitting the tarmac or the pool. And I love it.

The other day I was sharing with Eugene about my view of weekends. If our weekdays are spent working, and more often than not we are left drained and exhausted at the day's end, it means weekends are the only time we have to do things we like and pursue our interests: in short, to live life. This would work out to 52 weekends a year, a mere 104 days! This being the sordid reality, it becomes absolutely necessary that we spend our weekend time wisely.

I hope my healthy pursuits will sustain and become a habit. My other focus is to read more and finish the uncountable number of books lying around my desk. If you are a regular working folk like I am, I hope you've been enjoying every weekend doing the things you truly enjoy. And take time to do nothing and enjoy the rain once in a while when the morning is misty with pelting drops of water sent from the sky.

Japan's Beauty

"To see that life means a joyful participation in a world of sorrows, and that suffering is not the same as unhappiness, is one of the singular blessings this seasoned country still has to offer."

- The Undiminished Beauty of Japan, Pico Iyer in the New York Times

Promise of Weekend

Last weekend was quite a weekend. Though I didn't exactly do much, I set a record by swimming, running and cycling all in the weekend. It felt good. Today's Friday, and I can't wait for the weekend to commence and to take to the roads again!

Lights

As the sky gradually darkened and the faraway lights became increasingly brighter, I stood there gazing the beautiful scene, feeling a sense of quiet awe. Lights can be so enchanting and mystical, drawing you to their sparkle, illuminating an otherwise bland piece of darkness. I like the presence of the cable cars; they are like the minutes and seconds of Time, moving synchronically, ferrying the secret production of light to generate their brightness until they become completely lit - at the darkest hour. They are a constant that keeps going even as the city sheds its day armour and puts on its alluring make-up under a blanket of real lights that shine from another galaxy.

Fat Chicks

Buddhism & Democracy

"For the Dalai Lama, democracy was the rare, happy place where Buddhist principles and real-world political systems converged. Nothing could speak better to his sense that each of us has a power in ourselves and an equal right to put forward his opinion and then be challenged in turn. Nothing could better represent his idea of independent choices within an interdependent network, each person thinking of his role in the larger whole, and debating giving everyone a say. For many Tibetans, though, especially in exile, what democracy really meant was giving up the very system and line of power that had held them up in Tibet and was all they had to cling to now. 

During only his fourth year in exile, the Dalai Lama had drawn up a new constitution, both for exiled Tibet and for Tibet once it was free, taking care to write in a clause that allowed for his own impeachment. His Cabinet - almost inevitably - had taken it out, and he, in a rare exercise of executive power, had put it in again. 

More recently, in 1996, he had held a referendum, so that his exiled people could choose what form of government they would like to see. No doubt reluctantly, and perhaps in deference to others' wishes, he had added one final option - that power be left in the hands of the Dalai Lama. Almost inevitably again, the majority of Tibetans chose that the Dalai Lama be in charge of everything and, in honouring the principle of democracy, he was obliged to accept a nondemocratic system."  

The Open Road: The Global Journey of the Fourteenth Dalai Lama, Pico Iyer

Hello Baby

Little E arrived in this world yesterday. Today, YL and I resumed our paparazzi roles which we proudly took upon 17 months ago when E's sister arrived. We couldn't get enough of Little E, who looks serenely snug in his bundle, so snug that he is more sleepy than he is hungry for milk.

Welcome to this world, baby.

Saturday Chill

De rigueur for  a chill-out Saturday cafe: polite crowd, preferably not too a big one; friendly staff and pleasant service; serves plain water; rotating fan to lend a rhythmic constant; chalkboards for an old-school feel; words about lustrous food and drinks; and well-chosen pictures displayed.

Of course, and good food. That's a no-brainer.

Last weekend of February: Facade

Last Weekend of February: Indulge

Last Weekend of February: Radiance

After Dark

What I miss about travelling in the past two years is the often limited time I have to wander the streets at night. I guess part of the reason is the pleasure of travelling per se: the joy of exploration, of experiencing foreign customs and culture, of being totally removed from the everyday and the familiar. In short, it's happiness in unreality.

My night walks and roaming in the streets hold a special place though, because it is usually at night that I get to enjoy a bit of uninterrupted free time exploring places and walking about with no particular destination in mind. In the eyes and mind of a foreigner, the night is either shrouded in darkness (which thus urges caution) or punctuated by bright lights that illuminate exuberantly and seduce quietly both at the same time. In this way it maintains a certain ambivalent aura, exhibiting its allure like a shrewd and worldly courtesan who tries to draw you with charm yet is able to keep a coy distance and within the limits dictated by her.

Your night sojourn begins after the sun has gone down. Before you realise it, you have already been swallowed by the after-dark brew of heady concoctions ranging from ceaselessly moving pedestrians to eager restaurants and bars that have thrown open their doors to welcome a city that has been shaken out of its day time sobriety. There's no way to escape the path before you, for everywhere you turn you find the sprawling tentacles of the night drawing you into its entangling embrace.

Walking the streets, you never know what awaits you at the turn down the road or the corner of the building. But the lights or the presence of souls ahead pull you forward, and you allow yourself to be led like a curious child who follows what lies ahead in his path. Sometimes it's the excitement of discovering something unexpected that eggs you on; other times it's just sheer instinct or a sense of loss that is aggravated by fatigue. The prospect of chance discoveries and unexpected encounters are powerful magnets. These are precisely the fruits that you yearn to reap when you throw yourself into the mysterious labyrinth of streets and sidewalks and alleyways. 'Fruits' like a hot, tasty bowl of ramen or barbequed meat. Yes, they count too.

Sake Fridae

Perhaps it's the Sake. I realised I signed the hefty bill without even verifying the items that were ordered. But it was a good meal still, even if we weren't enjoying this in Japan like how it was a year ago.

A Korean couple first sat next to us. I was eyeing their food and trying to match a fantastically yummy-looking plate of pancake to the menu but I couldn't pin down what exactly it is.

After the Korean couple left, two Japanese men took over their seats. I realised the Koreans before them proved they were unJapanese-like through their choice of food: a bowl of soupy stuff, tempura, something resembling pancake, and beer. They had only a few sticks of Yakitori - at a Yakitori specialty restaurant.

The Japanese were different. They spoke Japanese (obviously), had beer, and ordered plenty of yakitori, including those you and I might abstain from, like horse heart or liver, whatever. Our tables were barely an arm's length away from each other, so we could easily see what the other was eating. At one point, the Japanese beside me turned to us and asked what was the bowl of rather appetising-looking food on our table. 'Garlic Rice,' J responded with her most kawaii smile. Then they talked briefly about the food. As usual, I was the silent one, smiling at appropriate moments while J went on talking like a natural pro, as she always did when we happened to make small talk with the locals during our time in Japan.

A hefty meal it was, but it capped a mad week of late nights and intense concentration on excel sheets and numbers. I wasn't tipsy or anything, but I could feel the sake taking effect, even if it was mild. Till the next sake!