Hop

1 Corinthians 13

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8 Love never fails

9 For we know in part … 10 but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears.

11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.

12 Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.

But the greatest of these is love.

Lola

It’s a funny thing, nostalgia. It comes as swiftly as it disappears and in that instant, a thousand memories come and go in the blink of an eye. You are left reeling in its wake, a little shell shocked at the speed and yet you are fully aware of what has just happened. The effects are all too familiar and heady, leaving a soft spot in your heart and mist in your eyes. Almost undetectable, and yet entirely unmissable.

You are a different person now and yet in that instant, you are transported back to exactly where you were when you left the memory.

The little girl in the polka dot dress.
The teenager studying for her exams, surrounded by chocolate wrappers.
The young woman crying at her graduation.

All those years ago seems like a dream now but it really did happen. It was I who made all those choices and decisions that lead me to where I now sit in front of my computer. And if I were to meet myself as that little girl in the polka dot dress or the adolescent struggling through puberty, I would hope that she would be pleased to see how she turned out along the way.

I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life but God has been so good to me such that He has guided me to a lot of good things too, despite myself, and He has helped me learn from my mistakes (hopefully). I may not be the best version of myself at the moment but I do feel like it’s a work in progress and right now, I wouldn’t exchange places with anyone else in the world.

That’s a good place to be in, I think.

Walk the aisle

I went for my friend’s wedding ceremony the other day. I stood there sweating in my saree in that beautiful church that I had grown up in and watched as one of my good friends walked down the aisle, dressed in her best and was given away to the man to whom she was to spend the rest of her life with.

And I cried out of pure joy for her. Truly, the joy in that church on that day was palpable and overwhelming.

So, though she may never read this, congratulations Sharon.
May God bless the both of you with many beautiful and fruitful years together.

Exchanging hearts

I’ve been avoiding writing this post for some time now. For a little more than a week to be exact. It’s not so much that I’ve been in denial but more so that it’s taken me some time to really come to terms with it. I’ve been living in a shade of surreality for the past week and it’s only now that I’ve strung up the courage to write this.

Barath and I are no longer in a relationship.

Wow. No matter how many times I write that it still looks awkward. Suffice to say that this was probably the hardest decision either of us have ever had to make. And we had to make it a mutual one. It’s one thing to end a relationship with someone when you fall out of love or the other person is being treated badly. It’s quite another thing to have to end a relationship because both parties realise that neither side is able to be, or to give, what the other party wants of them.

It isn’t easy to give back a heart that you have had in your keeping and nurtured for close to seven years.

I know a lot of people probably already know about it but I figured by writing this post that I can finally take the next harder step and move on. A fresh start. Hence the new blog layout. It’s not that I’m trying to erase him from my life – it’s just the first attempt at moving on.

The end of our relationship was sort of like a death for me. I guess it also follows that with every death, there has to be a mourning that ensues before life can begin again.

A lot of people ask me how I’m being so strong about this. Trust me, that’s just a facade. There are moments when the emptiness is more than I can take. Understanding that this is a process that we both have to go through in order to come out on the other side, does not make it any easier.

I’m glad that at the end, it was mutual and it was amicable. Nothing could have been worse than if it had ended horribly. But hugging him goodbye and knowing that it would be the last time I ever would, had a ring of finality to it that I did not expect to be as painful as it was.

I have to say that I will never regret the years that we spent together, after all where we are today is because of where we were in the past. I just guess that now that God has helped us close those chapters, it is time for Him to write new chapters for us.

Thank you to everyone who upon finding out, understood how difficult it was for me to talk about it in person and so took time out to send me texts and find me online to keep me company. Thank you for your kind words and your virtual hugs and your assurances.

Thank you for your prayers; God has been a constant source of strength to me and He is the only one Who has been holding me up through this entire ordeal. He also gave me a family who stands by my side and shares my mad moments and lends me a strength that on my own power, I do not possess. God bless them.

So I guess there’s not that much more to say. But I guess what I will end this with is with a phrase that has given me more strength in the past few days than I could ever imagine.

“Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be shaken but endures forever.” Psalm 125:1

I guess as with all things, this too shall pass and only that which should, shall endure forever.

Earth Day

Listening to: Ryan Adams
“The word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out.”

Yesterday, 22 April, was Earth Day and what did everyone do to play our part in taking care of the environment? I’d like to take this moment to strongly appeal to everyone that we don’t need to join environmental movement groups or hug a tree or drive a Toyota Prius in order to take a stand in this matter. Switch off lights or appliances when they are not in use or even turn off the water when you are brushing your teeth. If you don’t need it, take the extra step, and turn it off. It doesn’t take much but the benefits reaped, are huge.

For example, when Monash University showed its commitment to Earth Hour by appealing to students in all its campuses to switch off non-essential energy sources for one hour on March 31, it showed that in the Peninsula campus, there was a 29% decrease in electricity demand and an average 23% for all campuses. This is in one hour alone, so imagine how much we can help our planet, if we did this everyday at every opportunity?

So we can make a difference. It’s just that most of the time we have too much of the tidak apa (roughly translated it’s no problem or live or let live) attitude to even kick off in the right direction.

I attended a seminar yesterday by a research student who was studying the microbial diversity in peat swamp forests, 60% of which are located in Peninsula Malaysia and Indonesia but which are rapidly being cleared away for development projects. Peat swamplands support a wide variety of endangered species like the tiger, Asian elephant, Malaysian tapir and the Sumatran rhino. Forest fires and rapid clearing are just one of the many problems they face. What will it take for the authorities, whoever they may be, to realize just how important these ecosystems are and why they must be protected and how taking them away will eventually affect all of us in the long run? These forests do not apparently receive any formal protection.

There are many people who are actively trying to campaign for their protection and I am not clear about its progress but things have got to start moving with the times, people have got to start waking up and doing something about these things. Most of us are powerless because we may not have the money, seniority, authority or platform to do something about it, but I think awareness and education is the way to start.

So please, don’t just let Earth Day be the day you turn off those lights.
Make it a commitment because we have nothing to lose.

Not yet anyway.

Facade

Listening to: Jack Johnson
“We’re just a bubble in a boiling pot.”

Thanks to my lovely friend, Melissa, I read this the other day. This is but an excerpt (more like the last part) from John Mayer’s blog.

“This is about us all. Every one of us. Who all seem to know deep down that it’s incredibly hard to be alive and interact with the world around us but will try and cover it up at any cost. For as badass and unaffected as we try to come off, we’re all just one sentence away from being brought to the edge of tears, if only it was worded right.

And I don’t want to act immune to that anymore. I took the biggest detour from myself over the past year, since I decided that I wasn’t going to care about what people thought about me. I got to the point where I had so much padding on that, sure, I couldn’t feel the negativity, but that’s because I couldn’t feel much of anything. And I think I’m done with that.

I’m not the first person to admit we’re all self conscious, Kanye was. But what I want to do is to shed a little light on why we’re all in the same boat, no matter the shape of the life we lead: because every one of us were told since birth that we were special. We were spoken to by name through a television. We were promised we could be anything that we wanted to be, if only we believed it and then, faster than we saw coming, we were set loose into the world to shake hands with the millions of other people who were told the exact same thing.

And really? Really? It turns out we’re just not all that special, when you break it down. Beautifully unspectacular, actually. And that truth is going to catch up with us whether we want to run from it or not. The paparazzo following me to the gym ain’t gonna be Herb Ritts and the guy he’s following ain’t gonna be Bob Dylan. It’s just a matter of how old you are once you embrace that fact. And for me, 30 sounds about right.

What now, then? I can only really say for myself: Enjoy who I am, the talents and the liabilities. Stop acting careless. In fact, care more. Be vulnerable but stay away from where it hurts. Read. See more shows. Of any kind. Rock shows, art shows, boat shows. Create more art. Wear hoodies to dinner.

Carry a notebook and hand it to people when they passionately recommend something and ask them to write it down for me. Root for others. Give more and expect the same in return, but over time.

Act nervous when I’m nervous, puzzled when I don’t know what the hell to do, and smile when it all goes my way. And never in any other order than that.

And when it’s all over, whether at the end of this fabulous career or of this life, which I hope takes place at the same time, I should look back and say that I had it good and I made the most of it while I was able. And so should you.

I’m going quiet now.

John“

Is there any doubt as to why I love this man? John, you should never go quiet.

I do however have one opinion to add to the above. We are told that we are beautiful spectacular people from almost everyone growing up – our parents, our teachers, Hallmark even. But even as we grow up and hear these assurances repeatedly, every time we turn on the TV or open a magazine or even an online blog, we are exposed to different undercurrents of thoughts – ideas that seem to oppose what we have been told time and time again. That in fact, what and who we are, may not be good enough.

When thrown headlong into the world, we realize that there is another set of rules that exist, ones that are set by the self-proclaimed powers-that-be of this world who dictate what is considered unique and beautiful – and what isn’t. It is unfortunate because everyone else seems to set their standards to those perspectives, which ultimately are just that, perspectives that somehow become an unspoken (but heralded) law.

And by God, it’s a mighty current to resist all on your own and that’s why sometimes it’s easier to just let go and float with it. But we shouldn’t, life’s too short to live it in the shadow of what someone else thinks you should be.

Immune, is the word John used.
It’s a good word – it means to be protected against potentially harmful agents.

Goodness knows, the “you’re not thin enough/pretty enough/cool enough/smart enough” laws never brought anyone else happiness by hearing it. They appear almost petty in face value but carry much weight on the emotional front – nobody wants to be inadequate so we strive to reconstruct ourselves and cover up the damage with a cool unaffected facade. It’s no surprise why we are all so self-conscious at times.

I think there is no way to be completely immune against the tide but living life to the fullest means living through and feeling each moment, completely. There will be wounds and tears because goodness knows there are people out there who have nothing good to say but they say it anyway and sometimes all it takes is one particular word to crack the chink in our armors. So no, there is no complete immunity against vultures but the security of knowing we are exactly who we are meant to be will ensure that though they may attack, the wounds will be skin deep and hopefully, will heal as fast.

I guess, we can’t completely stop caring to shield us from the pain because then that causes all kinds of other problems, but like John said, be vulnerable but stay away from where it hurts.
Security is healthier than denial and problems should be faced head on so that the magnified demons of our denial don’t come to collect one day down the road.

Life’s too short and I want to die a happy woman.
Yes, that’s right, happy.
And I don’t care if happy isn’t cool enough for you.

Caged

Listening to: Aretha Franklin
“I know we got to part.”

Much of what is said, cannot be trusted unless taken with a pinch of salt.

When the phoenix rises from the ashes, it must ensure it does not do so only to be trapped in a cage of its own making. That said, neither man nor bird was made to be caged. Sometimes, the risk of entrapment in a new cage has to be weighed in the balance of potential freedom. If you are caught between a rock and a hard place, it is true that there is no place to go – but up.

Empowerment comes from knowing that you had the option to lie down but chose to break free.

Come what may, the phoenix may have chosen a cage of its own making, but at least – it was his choice to make.

Massacre

I had my presentation today.
It was a bloodbath.

TGIF tomorrow.

The Unbreakable Tour

Listening to: Matt White – Anybody Else
  “Didn’t mean to play with your head.”

This is gonna sound reallly uncool but

OMG THEY WERE THE AWESOMEST I HAVE EVER SEEN THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sure there was some lightning and thunderstorms in the beginning, and it took me about 20 minutes to get from Monash to Sunway Pyramid when it’s like a 5 minute drive and sure I had to wait like one and a half hours for our tickets but

OMG IT WAS SOooooooooooooooooooo TOTALLY WORTH IT!!!

BSB still got it going on, I am quite happy to say. They did the whole shebang; songs from both current and past albums, the chair routine, the sitting at table playing poker and singing bit, the whole dramatic chest grabbing synchronized movements (which sounds totallly cheesy if you weren’t there but my 12 year old self LOVED it), solo bits, a bit of pelvic grabbing ala Michael Jackson, kidding around, top hat twirling – and all of it live.

I don’t think their talent has aged even a bit although their fan base definitely has. Three quarters of their audience probably discovered them when they were in primary school (i.e. me) about a decade ago and sort of grew up with them. Plus the whole beach concert concept was pretty cool.

The audience definitely knew the words to almost every old song – I know I sang at the top of my voice (and very out of key because I could barely hear myself) to almost every song.  In the middle of it all, some chick tapped me on the shoulder and yelled at me, “I thought there were 5 of them?” she asked.

Hahaha, halfway through the show. Wouldn’t have been funny if she had come all the way out to see Kevin? 

I got a crook in my neck as I strained to catch every single one of them in action at every moment in time and this is Another Con To Being Short. You get one big haired guy or some idiot sitting on the shoulders of their boyfriends right in front of you and you got problems.  But as the show went along a lot of people shifted around and I soon found myself with a clear view and stubbornly stood there for the rest of the night.

They were awesome.
Best RM88 I have ever spent that’s for sure. At one point I realised that I was standing with my hands clasped together like a prayer singing “All I Have to Give.”

………………….

That’s how into it I was. If you have to say anything, you have to admit that these guys give it their all at a show. I know many many years ago I watched them live at Frankfurt (on disc of course) and remembered telling myself so many times that I one day wanted to be there watching them live. I’m so happy I got over myself and went last night.

Though I came back at midnight, partially deaf, with a sore body, sore throat, jammed memory card and had to wake up at 5:15 am this morning, it was so totally worth it. I cannot stop saying that enough.

They still got it man, even with one member less. Whatever else, they know how to entertain.
Heck, even a  bit of bum wiggling and cheeky smiles sent the audience, which were about a few hundred people strong, raving mad.

And I was finally at an age where I could watch them sanely enough with the just the right excitement without constantly killing myself with ideas of the best way in which I could catch a glimpse of them backstage or hijack their limo with them in it. Yeah, I had some serious issues growing up

Anyway, there was some drama at the escalators on the way back from the surf beach as can only happen in Malaysia. Some of the escalators were jamming or something because of the number of people on it so security had to get hordes of people to stop getting on until the rest had gotten off at the top, which in the confusion sort of translated to, get off get off now! to the people on the escalators, which turned into, run run!  cepat lari!! which led to packs of sweaty, paranoid people running down the escalators in the opposite direction… yeah… it was a bit hectic. I cannot italicize enough how amazing the entire episode was.

Forgot where our parking bay was and then after getting in and driving almost to the entrance forgot that we still had to pay our tickets… the things I do for them.

Anyway, all in all, twas a good night – one I will fondly remember but fortunately seeing as how I am now 22, not one I will tattoo willingly on my body as a memorial (which I would have done at 13 I bet).

Indenial

Listening to: Tribute – Tenacious D
“We said nay, we are but men.”

Guess who I’m going to see live on Wednesday night?

My very first genuine knee knocking experience with boy bands started with these guys. I screamed and crooned and daydreamed my first fantasies with these honies. I was twelve years old and spent most of my time poring over their every article in those terribly cheesy teen mags that you pay like 30 bucks for to get a premium edition of their button badges or stickers. I knew their middle names, their birthdays, how they liked their ice creams and whether they prefer blondes or brunettes.

The Backstreet Boys.

Back when they were five boys strong and very much with the “you’re the one for me, you’re the one I need” accapella harmonies and rocking dance moves. I thought they were gods in their own right, I think every girl my age did. Except if you got swept up with the ‘NSync revolution. My dad used to annoy me so much by calling them Blue Arsed Boys. Whatever joke he was trying to make.

They were supposed to come quite a few times for a live gig. They never did, there was always something or other that came up. It was quite sad, I did everything I could to be as close to them as I could, I even went to see the infamous younger brother of the incorrigible Paris Hilton-dating Nick, Aaron Carter, when I was 13 (and he was like eight), …but let’s not talk about that shall we?

I wrote AJ a ” Your Number 1 Fan” letter when I was 14 and was quarantined in my bedroom with conjunctivitis; I never posted it but it’s still in my memory box, I’m willing to bet. We played various pranks on our friends that they had received autographed birthday cards from their favourite Boy, when all we had done was practice forging their signatures from an old tattered signed poster from their World Tour. We memorised every song, every rap, every interview…

Various boy bands with their 5 part harmonies and apple-cheeked naivete came and went but we were loyal for a very long time. I bought almost every album, and secretly harboured a hope that they would come back with something fresher, something more current. Meanwhile, we grew up, and so did they. They got married, went on Oprah, had kids – we moved on and got lives that did not revolve around the Boys who were named after a famous flea market growing up (or something).

They came back recently with a new album and one member less. All I know is they hadn’t changed much, they were much older but sung the same crooning music, same dramatic arm waving in their music videos. Most of their newer stuff just seemed to start with the words “In…” like Incomplete or Indescribable or something. I wonder why…

With a renewed interest in people like Audioslave, MCR, Jack Johnson, Amy Winehouse, Ben Harper, John Mayer and 3 Doors Down, I began to forget about the boys who was once able to floor me by doing complicated backflips and twirling a drumstick. We all have those artistes we keep locked up in a closet and are embarrassed to say we once loved and sang along to in the bathroom with a hair brush. I was way cooler and strictly alternative now, no more boy band crap…

…until a few days ago when Cheryl told me they were coming down for a gig on Wednesday. First I laughed it off thinking they were once a band I would have died to go see in the flesh and now here I was checking my schedule and being grateful I had more important things to do. Until I thought of how my inner 12 year old who had been craving for this moment all her life and never got it. If anything I had to do it for her. And mostly because, these are the Backstreet Boys. Though they are one less, I have always wanted to go see them, I had to do this to satisfy my curiosity if anything else.

And though I have no idea what every song on their new album is (mostly because I do not have it), I know this will be a sort of closure, plus if anything it will just be fun to hang out with girls who are now 22, almost ten years later, and recall what idiots we used to be.

I may even let a scream or two loose.
Who knows?

This week, the 12 year old Felicia gets a treat she never got to experience.
The 22 year old Felicia might as well join the wagon for a bit of fun.