Rambles

I write & shoot (photographs) occasionally

Month: September, 2016

what i miss about home

is the conventionality of vulnerability, not having to depend on yourself all the time, being fussed over and cared for when you’re sick, lemongrass and chrysanthemum tea and all the age-old remedies mothers believe in. the constant noise and conversations, close to never a moment of silence, someone being there to answer your doubts no matter how stupid they are. the comforting, satisfying home cooked fare that no outside food can ever compare to, the relief of knowing that your meals are not a cause for worry. familiar, loved company in itself; warm hugs. the closeness of the sky, the visibility of its blueness and pinkness and all its beautiful transitions, the proximity to an entity so vast and overarching and the reminder of just how small your problems are; your bad day is. remembering my love for sunsets as i watch out my kitchen window rather than the grey grids which contain glimpses of other lives.

 

mid-autumn festival

it is in fact mid-summer in an eternally summery singapore, but today has been one of the longest days since university has started. i’m not a particularly huge celebrant of mid-autumn festival, but it’s my first one away from my family. last sunday we enjoyed the most glorious snowskin mooncakes filled with lotus paste and a champagne white chocolate core- together. today the crowd is a pretty different one.

yesterday i looked at the moon and was dismayed that the sky was foggy and the moon was but a dim spot. i was worried that the moon wouldn’t be bright, round and clear for mid-autumn festival, that it wouldn’t be the same moon i associated all mid-autumn festivals with. i wonder why.

but the moon didn’t disappoint- sure enough, today as i’m taking a long walk back to hall after the bus services have discontinued, there it is- a round glowing face beaming through the shadowy branches. it makes me happy and puts me at ease, the moon guiding the way on a quiet, eventually solitary walk, as i am led forward perhaps by a little warmth from spiced rum and old friendships rekindled. along the walk i see a couple with lit paper lanterns by the road; it warms me and i try to slow my pace and look, stay longer in that atmosphere. i haven’t seen any candles except my friend’s birthday candles today.

today, amidst the familiar countenance of the moon, there are so many new faces. mooncake sampling and impromptu, rowdy foosball matches with people i don’t know but shared many laughs with, making an impossible sprint for the bus for the longest distance and missing it, panting all the way to my very first training afterward and swearing at the red line. classes with unbelievably exaggerated vocal exercises that simply reminded me of choir days, sustained, deep, somehow personal conversations with people i never would have expected, walking back along the blue track with insects and whatnot creaking in this wilderness.

public speaking

feels, for lack of a better term, like an out-of-body experience for me. the idea forms in its infant stages inside my head, a seed sprouting tiny leaves. the faint halo of what i want to express glows and before it fortifies the time is up and off i go, lips moving and forming words i never conceived, i don’t know how i’m releasing them from me with such conviction and intensity. my mind doesn’t go blank but it’s like it frees itself of everything it holds, it occludes itself from my senses and i have no inkling of the word i’m going to speak next; everything is surging from my soul and being channelled with such uncharacteristic passion and intensity. i can’t remember much because my mind was in this state that i cannot encapsulate in description, an untouchable space in those moments with unforeseen, invisible workings. what i remember is believing wholeheartedly in every syllable i uttered, charging like an unstoppable train until the end, fuel-filled, fire-filled and i knew i was going to end there. i trusted and delivered.