Disappointments

My living tree shrivels in its own hope,
Strangled by the absence of promised sunlight.
Waited too long for a friendly bird's visit.
These little deaths that happen every day,
What does it matter.

Why make the heart jump, when you know it will stop?
A break in its constant rhythm is not welcomed
Its peaks and troughs are
Unpredictable, I will suffer
A cardiac arrest.

A tree with a pumping heart is not so hardy,
It dies sooner than you think.
Just takes, the absence
Of promised sunlight, and the no-show
Of a friend.

But the friend did come. A cheery bird, hopping,
Looking for the tree with a heart.
Puzzling, though, where did she go?
The little bird thought,
While perched on the dry dead tree.

W.J.H

On space, time, and the past. - A tribute to my victorian days

The mathematical equations describing the relationship of space and time is not understood by many. At best, we know that space consists of 3 dimensions, and time is the 4th. Yet, the very concept of time is abstract and mysterious. We exist in its very fabric, but can't quite comprehend its substance, what it is made of, how it looks like, how does it look from higher dimensions. My greatest guess is this, we can understand 3 dimensions more because we exist in 4 dimensions,we can only truly 'see' time if we exist in the 5th dimension or higher. But I am not going to dwell on the physics of the matter in this post, but rather, to speak of my personal experience of the intricacies of space and time today.

I felt keenly its relationship today when I passed vj and met michelle at parkway parade for lunch. My senses picked up, the things that had change, and the things that had not. The things that endureth gave me a sense of place, the things that had not showed me lucidly, the passage of time. For sure, the vj building and the 24 hours glass panes I glimpsed remained as endearing, like an old faithful friend, but my delight and comfort turn into ambivalence as I gaze carefully at each student decked in vj uniform. None of them looked familiar.

I stepped into the familiar zone, and it seemed like the past did not completely disappear. The buddies laughter, and the big butt's bickering, the starbucks study sessions, and conversations over apollo char kway teow and dim sum lingered like pleasant ghosts of the past, in the bubble tea shop, the curry puff lady by the bus stop, in the treats food court, in macdonalds, at the flag pole in parkway.

The things that had changed reminded me that life had moved on without us. That parkway was in the hands of others, and we are mere visitors.

Once we leave the past, and move on seamlessly into another phase of time, the times of the past get frozen into a sacred shrine, invisible to human eye, but keenly felt in our souls.

I grazed the curtain of that shrine today, and felt the its breeze and breath on my face, ever so gently, and elusively.

The breeze of yesteryears, and the breath of its warm wind.

Hostel application and its agony

Sigh, hostel application results have disappointed me again and again. Not that I expected to get a room in PGP through the appeal process. For sure, my reasons for appealing were not that compelling. Still, I felt it was worth a gamble as there was nothing to lose. Now i would have to wait till August to register on waiting list. Can anybody tell me what are my chances if I register on wait list? if you've been there, done that, my email is depth_of_grace@hotmail.com I would love to hear your story and get some well meaning advice from you. Never mind if we don't know each other, I would still love to hear from you.

IF any there are any friends out there who wishes to give up their hostel room, regardless if its PGP or elsewhere in NUS, please contact me. even though i know chances are slim. my contact number is 98772756.

Thank you, kind souls.

Mission trip

There is a certain lull in the very heartbeat of Malaysia that holds a mysterious allure. Somehow, my worries seemed to dissipate a little, in my 8 days spent there,during the church retreat and the mission trip. Both trips were, enjoyable in their own special way. The retreat in a, "the fellowship is great and warm" kind of way. The mission trip in a, "fresh experience, communal living"way. But I must say that these 8 days have been really memorable and special to me. Already, I'm beginning to miss the little sanctuary that we spent our 3 nights in.

I really loved playing with the village children. I am very inclined to believe that in their young lives, they have never taken a picture with a digital camera before. They run and snatch the camera to see themselves displayed on a small screen, only to laugh and roll on the ground, they literally did. When we gave them lollipops, they put them into their mouths without removing the wrapper. And we have to cajole them to take the sweets out just so we can remove the wrapper.

I had a great time fellowshipping with churchmates, and I told them about a stupid worry I had that was plaguing me for months. And by telling them, I released the grip that the worry had on me, and I am glad that they were very understanding, and they will shoulder this burden with me, imaginary as it may be.

This post is not complete. I will write more after the pictures are in. because they will trigger my thoughts.

Musings on seafood.

The supermarket is a mini-zoo, it is. We went to purchase necessities for retreat, nick, the boy and I, and I wandered off to the raw food section, to observe some of my dead scaly friends. It wasn't an uncommon sight: Housewives and a host of other people, poking and fiddling around with the dead fishes, obviously heeding no attention to the cold dead jelly eyes staring back up at them.

These days, I have an unexplainable fascination with lobsters. I saw a couple of them today, they look like gigantic sea insects. There were also some live prawns swimming in a bubbling tank, staring at me with their black beady eyes. The way they stare at me, makes me wonder who's really the exhibit.

Eels are a slimey lot. They wriggled and slithered in a big bathtub of water, I pictured them as Ah boy's favourite unagi, and they suddenly seemed comical.

Crabs. Ah! I can't even begin to explain my ambivalent feelings towards them! I have always had a predatory attitude for them, because they are one of my favourite seafoods, (and as I say this I'm looking forward to eating one of them tomorrow en route to the retreat destination) . But looking at how they were man-handled or rather, woman-handled today made me feel a tinge of remorse and pity. Their huge brownish glory pincers were strap tight to their shells, and signs of struggle can be detected as they are picked up by human hands, examined, and then thrown back into the pile. In such a situation, their size and their strength becomes their folly, for the good ones always get cooked and eaten first. I spent a good minute staring at them, contemplating their sorry fate. But soon, the cloud cleared, and my momentous grief at their impending funeral dissipated like the wind, and the image of huge chili crabs of tomorrow began to float in my mind's eye. With that, I was forced to confront my hypocrisy, and to move on.

I saw remnants of a medusa. A tentacle of a many-legged (or many-handed?) creature, and shuddered at its raw form, having just ate a small baby one hours ago. Friends of Davy Jones, perhaps.

Seafood is such a delicacy. The fruits of the sea come in many succulent colours that entice our eyes as well as our stomachs. Yet, the fish market, albeit an upperclass supermarket, is evidence of the barbarity of nature and man. A morgue for the magnificient creatures of the sea. Here, they are ripped apart for autopsy by the pathologist, the fish-monger no doubt, but we know the cause of death alright, "acute airway occlusion" , whatever. Lets just be thankful they didn't die for nothing, for their deaths would sustain many lives of a superior, literate race, or so we rationalize.

Yet in such barbarity, I can see the wisdom of God's plan for nature that began in Genesis. I am not sure if I'm saying this because of my voracious appetite for food, as my friends would know, but surely, if it were otherwise, seafood or any food for that matter would not taste that good.

Of course, nothing on earth can be entirely objective. I am a human being, so I am biased.

If you are a fish, salmon or trout, tilapia or prawn, you would treat me as an enemy, someone to be FEARED.

Such is the law of the sea.

Its a man eat fish world.