Ageless
Friday, June 30, 2006
Since Hitomi entered my life, I graduated from the strain of waiting for public transport to the arduous task of hunting for available parking spaces. Admittedly, I enjoyed the convenience of zipping all over Singapore, and avoid having to sweat buckets in its humid weather. However, that also meant that I bypass the little things that come along during my quiet walks home.
Feeling restless, I left Hitomi behind as I walked into town to collect my replacement gym card. On the way back, I passed a vendor selling ice cream for just a dollar.
List of flavour includes local varieties like red bean and yam. Buyers can choose having their ice cream in a cup, sandwiched between thin wafers or wrapped in a slice of bread.
I quickly made my choice. For one dollar, I had a huge slab of raspberry ice cream and a whispered 'thank you' from an old seller with a gentle smile.
As usual, my stomach reacted quicker than my brain. By the time the idea to take a picture of my sweet indulgence popped in, there were already a couple of ugly bite marks on it. Coincidentally, I stopped right in front of a mega giant antithesis to the pushcart store. Having to ponder between premium decadence (with an equally premium price tag) and budget-friendly light goodness, I was contented with the choice in my hand. Given the charmingly local feel of ice cream pushcart stores dotted around the island, I think I can continue to have my $1 ice cream fix for a long time.
Walking with added springs in my steps, I delighted at how quiet the roads were. Even with my pace slowed to half its speed, I still passed several people. Then as I was ready to overtake another group, I just had to stop and stalk.
Doesn't it remind one of a familiar picture on selected notebooks?
I've grown immune to lovely-dovey dating couples and married folks. But this heart-warming sight gave bitter-sweet feelings. I've asked myself many times whether I can ever be fortunate enough to share this stage of bliss with someone.
I wanted to take a 20 questions Soul Mates test I found online once upon a time, but never managed to complete it because I got lazy, complacent and eventually disheartened. My faltered faith is not with Love, but with its agents. Young loves bubble over with raw energy but without maturity to control that passion, it can burn. Long time loves with intimacy can also fall apart because people take each other for granted. A married life does not guarantee security either. Just ask those who strayed.
My parents had their share of quarrels and cold wars but for two headstrong people, they are still going strong. High-strung Mom becomes relaxed whenever Dad is in her presence while Dad never forgets to send flowers to Mom every Anniversary. There were also a couple of times I saw Mom snuggling up to Dad on the sofa.
However, couples in their golden years are more endearing because they are like a complete entity. With surface beauty all faded, what is left is seeing beauty in each other's souls. You can also put them in a three-legged race and it would look like they have been doing that all their lives, completely in sync with each other. Call it coincidence, but noticed the old couple's foot steps? The man looked like a fast walker because he is always slightly ahead of his wife but since she walked with a limp, he remained by her side.
I envy couples with more than 40 years of togetherness. Precious gems such as Ruby, Emerald and Diamond that mark these milestones were selected for a reason. Gems take a long time to form but they are everlasting. Moreover, trials and tribulations polished them into becoming the glittering perfections that they are.
My grandparents belong to an era where showing tiny affections such as holding hands in public were unconventional so they show it differently, my paternal grandfather (Dad's Father= DF) teased his wife mercilessly in front of friends and family. Couple of times, it went overboard so she leaned over and hit him firmly on his arm. He would chuckle and then stopped his teasing. At least for the day.
It was just over a decade since he passed on, and Alzheimer's disease is slowly eroding DM (Dad's Mom) once sharp mind. As she slipped deeper into memory lapses to the point of forgetting the names of her grandchildren, she could remember, her eyes still brimming with tears, DF in vivid detail.
And there is my maternal grandmother (Mom's Mom = MM). I could not remember my maternal grandfather (MF) because he passed away when I was barely 2 years old. However, MM keeps a picture of him in her purse and whether she opens it, it's the first thing she sees. Mom said that even till now, MM still thinks of him everyday.
Both grandmothers hang on tightly to memories of their loves because without these memories, it is as good as not existing most their lives and being dead for the rest. I cannot imagine living a life as the one who survived the partner. Having to live each year at a time and wondering if it's going to be the year I reunite with my love. I wish for my life partner's health to remain robust long enough so that he can throw in the towel at the same time as I and we don't have to separate for too long. Maybe only a couple of minutes apart, just like twins at birth. We'll look like we're asleep in each other's arms just like any lazy Sunday as we transcend from this world to the next - together, hand in hand. I can go into greater details during the final ten minutes but I'll stop before I turn too morbid. Here we have people fantasising about weddings, and I fantasise about death...
I guess something as precious as Love is at its most beautiful when it is also at its most fragile. Not because of its decline, but of Life's transience.
Nevertheless, in all its forms, some things remain ageless.
|In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes.
How do you measure a year in the life?
How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love
Seasons of love
- Rent
How a Smart Alec Got Away
Monday, June 26, 2006
Bryan is often in a world of his own and snaps to attention only when he hears someone reading the public bus guide. On playful days, he engages teachers in games of hide and seek, Little Zimbeenee behind the curtain and ponders over the possibility of ever seeing a ghost bus.
On a particularly playful day, Bryan was caught writing 'bastard' on his book. Oh no, naughty Bryan! As punishment, he has to write lines! On a sheet of paper, he read his instruction.
I will not say bad words <----- Write this sentence 50 times.
So he was left alone to write his lines. Ten minutes later, the teacher came to him. "How is it coming along?"
"Marvellous!" he replied, "Eleven more words to go!"
A closer look at Bryan's marvellous work showed:
"I'll speak better words than the worst of mine. I apologise and Will not speak anymore of them today. After all the silly words have gone, we were very very very very happy, proud, joyful and glad all together."
Oh no, no... cheeky Bryan! He has to do it again. Properly too! And on that same sheet of paper, he had to copy:
Bryan will say good words only.
Once again, he was left alone to write his lines. Minutes passed and Bryan should be half way there by now.
"I am writing lines!" he said. And it was true, he did write his lines properly this time. The only thing is...
Bryan will say nice words only.
Bryan'll say nice words only.
I'll say nice words only.
I'll say terrific words only.
I'll say good words only.
I'll say successful words only.
I'll say fantastic words only.
I'll say quiet words only.
I'll say better words only.
I'll say brilliant words only.
I'll say clear words only.
I'll say chatty words only.
I'll say nicer words only.
I'll say more terrific words only.
I'll say more fantastic words only.
I'll say clearer words only.
I'll say fabulous words only.
I'll say quieter words only.
I'll say chattier words only.
I'll say more fabulous words only.
Clever, cheeky and naughty Bryan, but looks like you have learnt your lesson. Off you go then! You can have your break time.
While the teacher can have an aspirin or two. |
Brawly Bollywood
Thursday, June 22, 2006
It's my third week at a Bollywood Dance class.
The first time was memorable. I kept forgetting my steps because I was concentrating on a matter most critical, which was "Don't laugh, Pari. Don't you dare laugh!"
Thoughts of performing the kinds of dance moves I see in Bollywood movies threatened to leave me in hysterics. I like the style as it is carefree and leaves a lot to self-expression rather than precision. Trouble is that my dance is as expressive as gravel.
Every lesson left me gasping for breath and my cuff muscles aching the next day, which is not bad considering I could not do those rocking, shaking and swaying. The hardest part so far was shaking my upper body to the beat without looking as if I'm having a seizure. But I'll get it somehow. Let's hope I don't have to do the neck thing so soon. There is still a dull ache on the left side of my neck from my last solo attempt.
Just for fun, here's music (right click please. I removed the player because it made explorer go crazy) of that dance sequence I'm in the process of destroying. Song's Say Na Say Na from BluffMaster the movie.
-post written by a future Bollywood
Go Goalies!
Thursday, June 15, 2006
World Cup is upon us again so expect no shortage of late nights, melodrama, Oscar-worthy acting and of course goals, Goals, GOALS!
But that's so over-rated.
We're naturally drawn to the spectaculars so the likes of [insert names of hot scorers of the moment here] gets most stardom. But who are the people who make victories taste ever so sweet? It's those annoying people dressed in unique attires standing in the way of glory.
Dad was in a soccer team in high school. His coach was some crazy ex-military guy so vigorous in training was an understatement. However, thanks to superhuman stamina, the team trashed many opponents. One day, dad caught a nostalgia bug of his wonderous youth, so he brought the kids on Sunday morning to a nearby soccer field. I could not kick a ball to save my life so I volunteered as goalkeeper. Moreover, my basketball experience would surely come in useful. However, standing in front of the net became intimidating and I couldn't reach the top bar even when I jumped. Dad lined up my brothers and himself and took turns kicking the ball. My basketball reflexes were useless as I darted from one corner to another. Getting scratched or bruised from diving was the last thing I wanted. I even had a mental picture of paramedics being called to the scene because I was comatose from hitting my head on the goal post. How do these people do it? - Throwing away their safety to stop a hot shot goal scorer from getting the ball through?
The goalkeeper." ...They say where he walks, the grass never grows".
-- Eduardo Galeano, Soccer in Sun and Shadow
Demands are high. Goalkeepers, as the last line of defence, have to throw (literally) themselves in to do whatever it takes to stop the ball in its track. Even if it means diving towards incoming opponents, perform acrobatics as well as risk getting trampled. At the same time, they're expected to have lightening fast reflexes, foresight and quick thinking.
While they are not perfect...
When they do step up to the plate, they can inspire.
Watch out for an amazing mid-air back flip kick save at the 40th second mark.
In any sports, I have a huge respect for the ones who are left to stand guard. Let the strikers and forwards have their fun because ultimately, a brilliant goalkeeper plus strong defence will make a team invincible. And they certainly don't do victory runs around the pitch after every successful saves. |
To Shape Run or Not to Shape Run
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
That's the question that only Shape can answer. The organisers received an overwhelming response (which I'm sure has nothing to do with the fabulous prizes or the runner's kit worth $370 with only a registration fee of $15) from eager ladies for Singapore's first ever women only competitive run.
My running buddy informed me of the run in early May and we decided to take on 10km. She checked with me many times whether I'd registered as she hates to run alone. I always replied, "Soon." Was not too worried about it since deadline's 30th June.
Feeling assured, she promptly sent in her application form as mine sat on my table. Couple of weeks and reminders from her later, I finally completed my form and popped it in the mail box.
I took a quick look at their webpage on Sunday and noticed it was updated with the latest annoucement of not receiving any more applications due to safety concerns. When did the organisers make that update? I can only hope that it wasn't on the day I posted the form.
Or else I'm going to have to run more than 10km to get away from a furious friend. |
8 times Pari Flashes
Saturday, June 10, 2006
... her past.
*ahem*
Another tag mark left behind... this time by Onigiriman!
Once you've been tagged, you have to write a blog with 8 facts/things/habits about yourself, saying who tagged you. In the end you need to choose the 6 people to be tagged and list their names. No tag backs.
I find this challenging because I don't like to write in-depth things about myself. Telling folks about my take on stuff or my day is so much easier, which is why this post took longer than it should. While pondering over what to include, I mentally flipped through the back chapters of my life searching for anything that is remotely interesting. As my mind clicked out bits of memories, I was amazed that all these fragments did in one way or another shape the person that I am now. Memories (good and bad) are things that build one's character and define the person that you are. Which makes people with Alzheimer all the more tragic because they end up becoming empty shells of themselves.
These are the flash facts:
Fact #1:
I have been using the same facial wash - Eversoft Avocado - for 13 years
Old design (left), new design (right)
The green packaging has been really consistent as it only went through 1 major change. I still have the older design and unused for possibly over 5 years now. When the company decided to change the design, I felt the urge to preserve a piece of history so I left the last tube with the old design to rest inside the cabinet.
It's also the very first facial wash I ever used. I did try others now and then, but I'll always revert back to this one. While some detractors commented that using this is no different from plunging your face into detergent, it's still good ol' reliable Eversoft with the ability to leave my face squeaky clean. I do not plan on switching brands anytime in the future as once I develop a liking for something, I'll stick with it all the way till I'm forced to look elsewhere. Such as product discontinuation or in a larger sense, a break-up. But that's another story.
Fact #2:
I do these sorts of stuff behind closed doors
Tamaki Nami - Shining Star (alternate angle)
Tamaki Nami - Believe (alternate angle)
But don't count on me hitting the Para Para Dance machines at the arcade. This shall stay behind closed doors until, with my under-developed dance coordination, I can figure out the entire dance steps within the next couple of years.
Dancing to a happy tune was my way of dispelling nervous energy which I have an excess of. I was a difficult baby as I would cry non-stop and every little thing frightens me. As I grew older, I make a perfect candidate for hypertension and have regular throbbing headaches to prove it. Friends complained that I always leave them behind in the dust as I hurried along and that got me even more flustered. Many things worry me and I would even fret over stupid things like whether I'll die from spontaneous combustion from a short circuit in my brain.
Overtime, I have learnt not to take everything too seriously and laugh at myself more. There is something liberating about dancing as it encourages me to look on the bright side of things. My dancing might look like a rabid bunny pumped with caffeine and steroids but who cares? No one is watching and I get to have some fun.
Fact #3:
I have a
Sure he is a pretty boy and has waist size that's barely 30". It's also fine that folks say that he's gay, engaged etc. But he has the IT look for me.
I remember the first time I saw him on MTV's Bangkok Jam. My jaw dropped, I sighed and that was the beginning of a lovely one-sided relationship. Well I don't have posters of him all over my room and I sure do not scour the internet searching for any scraps of information about him, but I subject myself to creepy supernatural encounters just to catch a glimpse of him introduce the next scene for barely a minute. Hurry up and host something less scary!
Fact #4:
I survived Typhoid fever when I was 11 months old.
My parents really thought at that time that they would lose their first born daughter. But somehow, I hung on.
When I was at my lowest point, I was short of taking anti-depressants. Thoughts of suicide were never too far away and I would devise ways to end my life with minimum fuss. In times when I was finally staring at the knife clutched in my hand, I asked myself if my passing on would matter anyway. People will feel sad, but they will eventually get over it. It is then that I recalled the time dad told me about my illness and near brush with death.
That became my last source of strength. I told myself that if I managed to survive something that could have easily killed me, it is a sure sign that I was placed in this world to give something back and I should not ever short change myself of that purpose.
Fact #5:
I make it a point to watch every single Swan Lake performances that comes along.
I loved Swan Lake because of its story and most of all its music. And what little girl doesn't like white tutus and prancing around like the most graceful of all birds? I could also sit for hours watching videos of ballet performances which my mom dutifully rented. Strange that I could not remember any of them other than Swan Lake. But there was one scene from a ballet that traumatised me. The hero was given some flowers from a girl who left him. He watched her disappear from sight before turning his back to the audience and walked away. The lights dimmed and by the time credits started rolling, I was wailing like a banshee. It took a while for me to be consoled after that.
I learnt ballet when I was in Primary school and while I loved tip toeing around in my ballet slippers, I dreaded going for class. My ballet instructor was not exactly the nicest of people. The kind of person who personifies snobbery, she walked around with her nose pointed upwards. I never really found out whether it was because she didn't want us to see just how big her nose was. She was quick to dispense insults to those (like yours truly) who had the audacity not to know the difference between a leotard and a unitard and wasted no time to publicly humiliate those who could not keep up.
I also had organ class which was on the same day. In order to reduce the stress of shuttling from one class to another, I was made to choose between ballet and organ. I chose the latter. Simply because I liked the organ teacher a little better than the ballet teacher. In the end I found out the hard way that it was a childish decision. Minus the teachers, at least I liked ballet. 7 years of banging the keyboard and smashing pedals finally came to an end when I got to drop out of teacher's grade. Till this day, I regretted making that decision to stop learning ballet. So I guess watching Swan Lake is a way I could still connect with the lost ballerina in me.
To date, one of the more memorable Swan Lake I watched was Graeme Murphy's Swan Lake in Melbourne. The storyline was a little different but the choreography and costumes were stunning.
Fact #6:
A teacher compared me to Audrey Hepburn.
She might not think that it meant anything, but for an awkward teenager with very low self-esteem, her worlds were solid gold.
I had my first taste of the Audrey Hepburn charm through My Fair Lady when I was a little girl. Though totally clueless to her life outside that one film, watching her left me with enough impression to mention her name whenever I was asked who my favourite actress was. Couple more years passed and I watched My Fair Lady again on television and was reminded of how I admire her classiness and poise. I imagined meeting her in person one day but later found out she passed away.
Even in her winter years, she still has a certain glow about her and maybe much more than in her youth. It was as if she became more beautiful as each year passed. She was neither bombshell gorgeous nor wildly popular but with her down-to-earth and gentle ways, her legacy is a steady flame that burns eternally. The kind of person I dream to be someday.
I went through the usual stuff like teen angst, obsession to fit in, questioning my self-worth and wondering what my future would bring. Nearing graduation, the class exchanged the usual "keep in touch" notes on our class photographs. I nervously gave mine to the teacher and when I got it back, I teared, "... on a personal note, I really like your poise and elegant 'sense'! A little 'Audrey Hepburn-ish' - I've always thought."
Like a mother's hand that soothes an anxious child, I felt that same glow Audrey Hepburn had and with that, a tremendous boost of self assurance.
Fact #7:
I was a Jealous Brat
I envied my rich neighbour who has a room fully dedicated to house all her Barbie, She-Ra and My Little Pony collections. I whined constantly over my small collection of toys and threw fits when my parents refused to get for me something I saw on tv. Then Mom brought me along on one of her visits to a salam - village of the poor - in Bangkok.
"So you think you have so little?" mom asked me as she lead me along narrow planks that bridged different odd-shaped huts. I was too shocked to say anything. For a 6 year old, it was too much for me. It was a long time ago, but I vaguely remembered blue-grey wood on huts and pathways, dampness, and my mom saying hello to the residents. There was an old lady we passed. She was doing laundry outside her tiny house and she grinned at us, her gums were swollen and she barely had any teeth left.
Then mom brought me to a slightly bigger hut. She said that it was a school. It was lunch time and the students were tucking themselves into tiny pieces of chicken with more bones than meat.
Did they whine? No.
So I stopped whining too.
And something a little more recent.
Fact #8:
I crashed my car in a car park. Twice.
The first time was at school. And the other time was at the estate's carpark. I was running late for work and I backed the car out into an old Toyota belonging to a (thankfully) kind man.
It was a total comfort knowing that I have successfully carried out a family tradition. Grandma crashed her car into the back of a garbage truck while Mom managed to drive hers into a marketplace that was under construction with enough force to have a metal pole pierce through the windscreen and missed her face by inches. My father was no better. In his young and restless days he single-handedly drove a car off the cliff and left his passengers with broken arms and legs while he escaped with only a cut on the forehead.
Feeling that I might be destined for achievements that surpass my predecessors, I have developed a habit of braking early and often.
And finally...
my task is done. I hereby pass this on to 6 (why not more?!) other people who I very much would like to force a blog out from. In order of the number of days since last post - Will (18 days), Malu (11 days), Daene (10 days), Te (5 days), Don (4 days), and Ryo (4 days).
K, would relish in tagging you myself as a present from last time but something tells me that Aemii is going to do that when she's done with hers. You've been warned. Heh!
Updated: Pssst.... Debs (aka pegasus979).
WHAM!!!
I heard you and you've been given a tag of honour. Serve it well! |
Bimbotisized by a Panda
Monday, June 05, 2006
This commercial is absurd, there's somebody's in a panda suit and the song oozes enough saccharine sweetness to give a hippo a toothache. But it's still so darn cute.
I thought I should already be in perfect control when it comes to such things but the flying bit finally made me squeal. Blast my innate inclination for quaint and delightful looking things.
Wait a minute, what's the product again? |
Camp Sweet Camp
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Onigiriman raised a valid query about it being "camping" if you stay at a chalet.
While staying at a nice weekend resort complete with a spacious living room, kitchen and cosy bedrooms definately has c-h-a-l-e-t written all over, we also did (fairly) similar things people would do at camping trips.
We set up our camp site (once we checked in at reception and moved our bags into designated bedrooms) and took note of our food supply (of potato chips, oreo cookies and the number for Canadian Pizza). After that, we went hiking (to Downtown East) and the students picked up useful food gathering tips (at MacDonald's). We also got up close and personal with wildlife and learnt survival skills (while fending ourselves against hungry Jurassic Park dinosaurs at the arcade). At the end of the day, we gathered around (the coffee table) for some songs (while watching the American Idol Finals) and marshmallows.
I'm glad that the kids enjoyed themselves including those who had never stayed overnight without their family before.
One of them was Rio*. The bus was scheduled to arrive at 11am so I sneaked in some work for the students to do while reassuring a very anxious mother who actually paced around school for nearly 3 hours so that she could see her son off. Ironically, it was the same person who wanted Rio to become less dependent on her for every little thing and suddenly, she realised that she has to learn to let go as well. When we arrived, I paired him up with a chatty boy and they got along very well to the point of both begging me to leave the lights in their bedroom on overnight. Rio's mom usually makes a special milk drink for him twice a day and it was the first time he had to do it by himself. Which he did. His usually nervous expression broke to a grin when I commented that it looked like mommy won't have to do it for him anymore at home. Now it is just a matter of reminding the mom to let him do more things by himself around the house.
It is easy to want to shelter people with special needs from the harsh world but for how long? In the end, it is about picking up life skills and integrating into society. Things we take for granted such as ordering something at restaurants, doing chores, taking the public bus and even interacting with other peers are little triumphs towards opening up their world. Just like feeling water and finally connecting it to a word, Helen Keller's dark world suddenly exploded into lights. My wish for my students is that they will all experience that Helen Keller moment that will propel them towards finding their own niche in Life. In the meantime, my colleagues and I will continue to brainstorm different ways and means to set them off on their way. |
