New beginnings.
This blog is outdated. The design template is dated. The writing hasn't been updated. Life has rolled on but this page hasn't.
I'm tempted to just shut it down. Doubt if anyone even reads it anymore.
These are new beginnings. I'm fit, recharged and experiencing a creative renaissance. Ah, the joy of turning 30.
Farewells.
Two of our closest friends returned to their homelands yesterday.
What an affair: a double blow of heart aching emotional farewells.
Ree: I miss you so much already. I miss your crazy greeting, 'AH BEEE!' followed by the ruffling of my hair. More than that, I miss a companion who understands me even if I don't say a word. I wish we had more time to spend hanging out...I wish I had played a larger role in your struggle with visa issues...who knows, if I had, you might still be here. Thanks for being such a sister to my chubee and me.
Aikee: My my, how you've grown from a shy Arrow Volunteer to this gentle giant with a heart of gold. You've got such capacity to learn and to grow. I know that you'll be a huge influence in your family and the community you find back in KL. First thing you need to do is to apply for your Australian PR please!
The Strangest Things.
3 deaths in 2 days.
Death 1: A director friend’s actor passed away in a swimming mishap a few days ago.
Death 2: My friend rang me this morning to tell me that his father passed away.
Death 3: I got to work this morning and heard that my colleague’s young daughter passed away overnight.
I feel sick. I feel like vomiting. Is this normal? Strange coincidence or something more sinister?
Would a Singaporean decide to buy 4D?
That wasn’t a joke.
I need a drink.
The Little Things in Life.
Bumped into an old friend, R, 2 weeks ago here in Melbourne. Since we last met more than 10 years ago, he's gone onto become a filmmaker of some reknown. There I was at the Australian premiere of his latest feature and what a time to get reacquainted...
R proceed to tell me that a scene in the movie was inspired by an aspect of our friendship. R smokes and I used to take his cigarettes, tear it in half and give it back, telling him, 'I just saved 3 minutes of your life.' The character in the movie 'stole' his father's cigarettes and cut all the cigarettes in half before putting them back.
Strange to think that little things you do in life can resonate for a long time. Just think about what one can do with one's life in this world. All our actions and words can make a difference even if you don't think much of it.
R, thanks for sharing something so personal to the world. I'm sure we'll not wait 10 years to catch each other again.
The Darkness of Man
Two days ago, the local paper published a photo to accompany a story on the current conflict between Israel and Lebanon.
The image: A little Israeli girl (9 years old or thereabouts) was using a marker pen to write messages on bombs that were soon to be unleashed on Lebanon.
That was an unnerving sight. Does she know that those bombs would soon potentially mark the end of another person’s life? Does her culture tell her that it’s ok to wantonly murder and destroy? Does her culture even encourage this?
This open conflict began because Israel wanted the release of two of their soldiers. The irony has become apparent: more than 2 lives (on both sides of the conflict) have been lost. This includes people from other nations caught in the line of fire because they were there.
It’s insane.
I’m not sure I understand the men who run countries. Are their decisions made with a roll of dice? Are they motivated by pride, hatred or are they simply unable to let go of generations of deep seated enmity?
A time like this calls for leaders to step up and say, ‘Enough. This isn’t the way we run our affairs. This world we live in and all its people are here to stay and we’re simply bringing about more hurt than good with such destruction.’
I’m not suggesting Michael Jackson, ‘We are the World,’ touchly-feely type leadership but don’t we claim to civilised? Isn’t communication key? What can we do to advance our way in a fashion that is uplifting and encouraging? The answers are hard to find but we need to try nonethless.
I leave with some, perhaps cliché quotes from Mahatma Gandhi. Yet they still ring true and we need to look upon conflict with the eyes and heart of love and grace.
To answer brutality with brutality is to admit one's moral and intellectual bankruptcy.
Nonviolence is not a weapon of the weak. It is a weapon of the strongest and bravest.
The force generated by nonviolence is infinitely greater than the force of all the arms created by man's ingenuity.
Mahatma Gandhi
Socceroos, Advancing Australia Fair...
Australia, dubbed by many as the ‘over-achievers’ of the current world cup has crashed out of the tournament in the cruelest of fashion: a dubious penalty given to Italy in the last 30 seconds of stoppage time.
Francesco Totti slotted the spot kick home and I wept. My mate in Singapore, Terrence, rang me almost immediately to console me. ‘Football is a cruel game,’ he said. How the players must feel. To make it so far and look like the better side only to go down to a diving Italian…
For me, this World Cup campaign is special. I’ve never felt so caught up in patriotic fervour for a sport before. Singapore’s national team isn’t even worth mentioning, so I suspect many pledge lifelong support to English Premier League clubs and by default, England come World Cup time. Yet it’s not the same cheering for a team that you can
truly call your own.
It began last year when we gathered to watch Australia play Uruguay in the qualifiers. A cheeky Uruguayan star declared that it was their ‘right’ to be in the World Cup. They crashed out on Penalties. Since then, expectations have steamrolled and come World Cup, supporting Australia was a no-brainer.
And their performances were gutsy, spirited, enterprising and entertaining to watch. 3-1 versus Japan; 10,000 people at Federation Square in Melbourne. 0-2 versus Brazil and 15,000 people at Fed Square. 2-2 versus Croatia and 20,000 people at Fed Square. 0-1 versus Italy and 40,000 people at Fed Square.
These numbers very much reflect the mood and spirit of the average person in Australia. What a glorious time to be Australian! Who cares if end of financial year is coming? Who cares if the cost of petrol is skyrocketing? It all pales in comparison to the Socceroos playing this ‘beautiful game’.
I watched all the matches with my heart beating at double time, at the edge of the seat and breathless. I screamed and yelled when Australia scored. I swore when the referee made a decision that didn’t go our way. I cried when we made it to the 2nd round. I eagerly devoured every piece of news about the team; reading and re-reading news articles for that little scrap of new information. The loss was heartbreaking but there really was a silver lining to it all: I felt like this was home.
If the Australian Government had set up shop at Federation Square offering citizenship to anyone who wanted it, I’d be at the front of the line heading the thousands behind me.
Socceroos, I salute you.
Thank you for showing me what it means to be a ‘patriot’ and to love a country.
Melbourne, How I love Thee.
Working in the city, one becomes familiar with the sights, sounds and faces that accompany the buzz of any metropolis.
The stringy haired blonde (black showing at the roots) who couriers parcels for Melbourne Pathology. The dinky white Toyota Echo has in bold, ‘URGENT BLOOD DELIVERY’ emblazoned all over its body. However, each time I see her, it seems like she’s never carrying blood.
The young executive, immaculate suit, riding around town on her new burgundy coloured L-plated Vespa Lx. I passed judgment on her the moment she didn’t even bother responding to a nod and a smile of a fellow Vespa rider: poseur more concerned with looks of the scooter than the heart of what it means to ride a Vespa.
The hundreds of couriers over the many modes of transportation: the cyclist clinging onto the back of a tram as it dings it way up the hill. The truck driver who swore at me after I got my Vespa too close to him whilst he was illegally jay walking across Collins St. Parking inspectors who zealously insist of increasing the revenue of the city. They relentlessly shuttle up and down each and every laneway and thoroughfare of the city. You will NEVER ever get lucky. If you’re illegally park, you WILL be fined.
The bicycle cops in tights who stalk in the shadows of the tree lined Collins street, waiting to burst out onto the road to slap a fine on any offending drivers/cyclists/motorcyclists. I wonder if anyone has actually driven away before a fine was issued. Can their bikes keep up? Would they break any laws if they gave chase?
Sirens from ambulances, fire engines and police cars wail at least once a day as they roar down Collins Street (or up, depending on which direction you’re facing). Trams give frantic loud pealing of bells if any motorists get in their way (there’s the natural bell sounds of the older trams and the electronically synthesized clang of the new trams). Sometimes, the drivers even yell through the microphones, ‘Car ALP1234, please get out of the way!’
And the most annoying one of all: the busking guitarist with only one tune in his repertoire. He plays the damn song over and over and over again and he doesn’t even do that well (out of tune, misplayed notes).
But he has helped me learn one thing about the buildings here in Melbourne. They way they’re lined up along the sides of the roads: it creates a perfect acoustic tunnel. Sounds bounces off the face of each building, traveling with perfect precision upwards and sideways, ensuring that every single office will never miss his 365th rendition of
The Girl from Ipanema.
God I love Melbourne.
