Breakfast at Tiffany's

What would a good start on a weekday be like for you? If each day were a story waiting to unfold, the morning the opening scene, afternoon the development, night the closing - how would you like to write yours, and who do you want to cast in it? Will there be a climax, or will it be uneventful? Nobody wants to read about uneventful stuff. Will it have a happy ending, or a sad one? Happy endings give a feel-good vibe, most people would want it, no? And if your story were but a chapter of a book, then does it not make your life a book, your everyday a chapter of a book-in-making? Then it begs the question of what makes a good book, and therefore a good life? JW quoted and told me this of his book: My life's an open book, just don't expect me to read out to you. I wish to say of mine: My life's an open book too, just don't expect to find it easily. Perhaps when we all find our books, we will find some pages missing, some turned yellow, some we wished torn and removed. But the plot's already developed, things have happened. Which perhaps leaves us to do the more logical thing: to write the rest of the book the way we want. That's what they say, live a life of no regrets. Be the author of your chapters, write your own book. And maybe it will come to the point where not only is yours an open book, but you yearn to read out your story to others, at least to those who are interested to hear it.

Strange why I wrote this. All it took was Breakfast at Tiffany's to send me into a fleeting moment of felicity. I was on the train this morning, and I thought the best way to start your day is to hear a terrific song that sweeps you off the ground when you least expect it. Call it the opening music to the day's story; it's got to be upbeat, inspiring. Music can have that effect.

And I like to suggest that to sustain the happy shot, you might want to consider topping it off with a breakfast set of half-boiled eggs, toast bread and tea.

I did. Today.

Im lovin it!

I really like the pancakes I had on Saturday. I really do. ;)

1.48 AM

I cycled on Sunday and it was a good ride. Nevermind that I had not cycled this hard for a long time and my legs were groaning with familiar pain at the end of the ride. The thing is, I finally got to exercise, after like a month-long hiatus due to work. And to think this was just the first good thing that started my Sunday.

Then it rained in the afternoon, a really long, heavy rain. Although I could still feel the heat even as the rain was pouring, I knew it was better than having dry, pungent air baked by the sun, which was pretty much the condition for the past month. I was, to use a favourite local term, slacking away at home. At 3pm I went down to the kopitiam to eat char kway teow, and was forced to remain there for the next hour because the rain decied to launch a renewed second strike, only this time it was stronger with greater water power. This was fine with me, seating in the airy kopitiam filled mainly with balding uncles, a few stray teenagers and other aunties that you see around in a typical housing estate. I had a book with me (yes, I carry a book around), and there was TV. It sounds pathetic, but I assure you it's not. I am not just the sort who can only read and hang out at nice cafes, mind you.

The final good thing about last Sunday was that I turned off the lights and went to bed at like 11.30pm. I tell you, this has to be a record. The last time I slept so early was probably three years ago. Of course I am joking. But it's goddamn true that I have not slept before midnight for the longest time ever. You see, it's 1.36am now and I am typing this post for no clever reason. That's why I say 11.30pm was a record.

SX said that as she gets older, she realised she needed more hours of sleep, not less, which is what older people apparently could do with. I guess when you are really old, it is nature's and your body's way of reminding you of the time you have still, hence we could do with fewer hours of sleep when we get really old and fogey. Anyway, I agree with SX. I need more hours of sleep. A lot more in fact. What does more than more makes by the way?

Today was Monday, and it was the most bearable Monday I ever had. No blues at all. This I attributed to the abundant sleep I had had. It's true, a virtuous cycle begets another. Coming on the heels of Sunday's ride, I took to pounding on the asphalt road tonight; I ran: not from the office to the taxi-stand, but from the office to some unwalkable end and back. And boy, did it feel good. I needed my exercise back to purge all the stresses and bad vibes my body have been subject to, and I finally got my stride. Nothing comes quite close to feeling so good like after a good work-out, I tell you.

Only now I need to maintain and not lose the momentum. Let me check the time now. It's 1.46am. My virtuous cycle ain't that virtuous after all, I reckon. The good thing is, it's 3 more days to Friday. Hopefully when Sunday comes, it will bring with it beautiful Sunday rain, and the start of another virtuous cycle.

Good night. I mean, good morning.

Generation Gap

Unseen Moments # 5: Free Falling

5.15pm. Standing on the platform.
Staring into the rain-dazzled space,
he paused to listen to the whispering drops
that are free falling, free falling,
the feel of release in their weightless motion,
before it ends in the final act of arrival.

Intermission

I heart Chalk & Board


The bourgeoisie choice


Before night falls and the golden leaves darken


A Red Blob that passes me by one too many times. Snap you!


Fish&Co Seafood Platter: Rarely disappoints! Slurp.


Light on blind


Not so pure ovaltine

Hey Bob

When it comes to introducing myself to foreigners and non-chinese, I've taken to mispronouncing my name just so to make it, hopefully, easier for others to address me. I do not have a Christian name, and one of the characters in my first name cannot be pronounced in English phonetics. So it is often a challenge for others to pronounce my name, more so to remember it.

Even when I speak on the phone, there have been times when others somehow (mis)heard my name. Once it was 'Richard'. Another time it was - gasp - 'Rachel'. My name seems to have other English variations, I found out.

Just the other day, a newly known friend, after asking for my name again, said tongue-in-cheek: 'Can we give you another name? Like Bob or something.'

Right, Bob.

Journey

'To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive.'

After full-house, delight

I only regret that I didn't have a better camera with me. The food was as awesome as the lively place, and I was glad we waited for a seat, even though it was nearly 10pm and it was still full-house.

We asked for recommendations, the guy said a string of terms that mean little to ignorant peasant-eaters like us, we were none the wiser but decided to go with it anyway. Turned out to be a darn good meal. Glad it did.

Silence Flash

I have been without my camera (the one I mostly used) for nearly a month. And I am turing very deprived, feeling rather handicapped. Forlorn. Morose. Irritated.

The worst thing is, after sending it for repair the second time (because the problem wasn't solved after the first round), I was told that they couldn't find anything wrong with my camera. This was after having performed all the necessary checks, apparently. At that moment, I felt I could do with killing someone with a snap of a camera: Click! Emit some lethal flash and silence the person.

I do know it's a tricky problem. The camera works fine indoor, but under bright conditions outdoor, the images appear overexposed. Which means whoever is examining my camera would not be able to find any problem from just fiddling with it at the work desk.

Perhaps it's time i look (again) for another camera. I want my camera back!

Split

Incredible India

"The burly Maulana, whose beard reached down almost to his rotund belly, then asked if I wanted some refreshment. I said I would like a Nescafe, which is the only kind of coffee usually available in northern India outside of the cities. 'No, no,' he said sternly. 'We have issued a fatwa forbidding the faithful from buying any American or British products.' I tried in vain to convince them that Nescafe is owned by Nestle, which is a Swiss company, but they had either never heard of Switzerland or could not see the difference. No, they said, wagging their fingers, as if they had caught me pulling a fast one, Nescafe is Angrezi. (In much of India the word Angrezi - English - simply means foreign or western.) Then something ocurred to the Maulana, who was also a member of the committee that issues Deobandi fatwas. 'I have thought of a legitimate loophole,' he announced with a smile. 'The fatwa only applies to products bought after 11 September. Does anyone here possess Nescafe that is older?' A student raised his hand. The mildewed sachet of instant coffee that he fetched from his room certainly pre-dated 9/11. It was one of the most satisfying coffees I have had."

- In Spite of the Gods: The Strange Rise of Modern India by Edward Luce

If you are interestd in India, politics or asian studies, or if you have always been fascinated or puzzled by India, then you should almost certainly read Edward Luce's In Spite of the Gods: The Strange Wise of Modern India. Luce provides a highly informative and thoughtful analysis of India in this book, which is peppered with anecdotes and careful selection of data. He writes lucidly and in a simple style. The result is a thoroughly informative piece of work that is also fun to read. All too often, books of this genre fall into the trap of either boring the reader with jargon and leaden analysis or with unexciting narratives. Not this book, however. I was never bored at any point of time reading it.

One reason why the book is such a delight has to be the subject matter itself - India. The largest democracy in the world is abound with contradictions and unique circumstances borne out of its history, its sheer diversity and the world view of Indians of their place in this world and in the larger Indian society. There are plenty of interesting facts revealed. After learning about them, you may concur with its tourism tagline 'Incredible India' with a renewed conviction.

The second reason has more to do with the writer and his craft. Luce is the Washington Bureau Chief of the Financial Times. Between 2001 and 2005 he was FT's South Asia bureau chief based in New Delhi. He therefore writes with some authority on the topic of India. More pertinently in my opinion, his journalistic background gives his writing much verve. His strength lies in his accessible writing and concise descriptions, which is a hallmark characteristic of a seasoned journalist. Devoid of dry, technical analyses, his is a book that can be enjoyed by anyone who is keen to have a broad fundamental understanding of India. It is for the same reason that I enjoy reading such type of non-fiction writing on politics and current affairs, written by those with a journalistic mind and hands-on insights. Thomas Friedman's From Beirut to Jerusalem comes to mind.

I happen to have both books, and I'm pretty sure I will be reading Edward Luce's book again. Here's another extract taken from the book:

"Quite by chance, my tour of Film City coincided with the presence of Amitabh Bachchan, India’s most revered film star, whose sixty-second birthday had just been celebrated in dozens of newspaper supplements. I was halfway through an interview with Sanjeevanee Kutty, the civil servant in charge of Film City, when her assistant rushed in. ‘Mr Bachchan is ready now,’ said the assistant. ‘Ready for what?’ I enquired. ‘Ready for his interview with you.’ This qualified as one of Bollywood’s more improbable little twists. Having no idea that Bachchan was in the vicinity, I had not requested an interview. Had I done so, it would have taken weeks of faxes and conversations with public relations agencies to secure even the ghost of a chance. Led by Kutty in her official white Ambassador, we piled into a cavalcade of cars and rushed to the set. Like most of Bachchan’s shoots, it was a commercial. Whenever you are in India, the chances are that if you close your eyes and throw a dart it will land on a billboard bearing Barchchan’s distinguished grey-bearded visage. Whether it is for Pepsi-Cola, Cadbury’s chocolate, Parker pens of Maruti cars, no amount of exposure seems to dilute his brand equity. On this occasion, he was staring in an advertisement for Dabur, a health-food chain."

Magical Sky

Whether it is pockets of clouds hanging on that vast sheet of blue, or pockets of blue streaming through the breaking clouds, or just the interminable blue sky which seems to stretch the universe, they fill my heart with a kind of calm that only nature and its magic is capable of inspiring.

I love clouds, the big blue sky, their endless formations and langurous energy. They cost nothing but bring so much delight.