Mental Note #1 : The Most Important Thing

There’s too many mental notes I’ve made on what I want to record down here. It is quite a momentous phase in my life. Not a boring year, thus far. Only one chance to write here before I get all taken up by the frenzy of the rest of my 2014, maybe. 

Here goes : There is a person that I miss. Who I used to share almost every single thing. Who I love, very much like family, and sometimes even more so. This person, who has been more blood than blood to me ever since we first met. I didn’t get to share all my good news with him. He is alive, but our friendship is dead. His fault? My fault? Who knows. Much like a traffic accident, I go over and over the events of that day again, thinking whether it could have been different.

What if x wasn’t distracted by the phone? 

What if y remembered to use the signal before the turn? 

What if x is not too stressed out by the crying baby at the backseat? 

What if y was not too late for work, which penalized employees for being late even 2 minutes into the official working hours? 

What if there were witnesses to give a true and fair account of how it happened? 

So many what-ifs. So is it fate, when things go bad? Was it never meant to be.. if it couldn’t stand this test, this time, was it even meant to be? 

Maybe I’m not missing this person… but an image of him. We probably grew into two such different people, and at some point each just tried upholding the image of the persons that we used to be, for the friendship that we think we deserve if only we were those images. I don’t know. All I know is that there is a wide, gaping hole in the list of people that I need to talk to, and know what they’re thinking, and hear their thoughts and see their person for what they are. A monstrous aching hole in the list of people that I love, in the shape of someone out there, walking barely a postcode or two away, right here in   this very same town.

I suppose it is what it is.  What’s been said, has been said with such earnest conviction that I wonder if any friendship could survive that even if we were to seek each other to apologize. This is like a proper break-up, of fast friends rather than lovers, and I’m left with the all too familiar feelings that arise in the mundane routine post break : Should I go to our usual haunts? Should I be walking in the area where he lives? Does he know where I am? Does he think of me, when good things happen to him and when bad things happen? Does he wish me well, or wish me a slow anonymous death? 

Maybe we will never know. Maybe we would when it’s much too late. All I know is that right here right now, I miss one of my best friends and it is partly my own fault. 




Melodies in Sepia

Some songs have that innate, immediate ability to transport you back to a certain time. I’m sure there are many studies to this effect, but nothing beats actually having that feeling, and especially from the same song again and again. Thinking about it, surely at any era of our personal lives we would be listening to any number of songs. Maybe some more than others, but there will be more than one time at any stretch of time. After all, it’s not like most of us were in gitmo.

So have you ever had that feeling? For me it’s like….. Pottering about your day and suddenly out of nowhere there’s this quiet paralysis, my eyes staring status quo but what I’m actually seeing is 2 second moving images from the past. Mostly in sepia of course. Or is that because I listen to classic jazz most of the time?

Just now it was Nina Simone’s My Baby Just Cares For Me. It doesn’t get me everytime, but when it gets me, ooh baby!

The scenes are always set in UK, which makes sense because that’s where I first heard of it. At least conciously knowing and acknowledging the melody. I love the first scene, in which I’m transported into a car, whizzing through the British countryside in autumn, or spring or any such moment in either summer or winter where you’d go “them crazy British weather”. So 2 seconds of that.

Then, 1 second blank, like one of those old school slide projectors, using little cartridges or something like that.

And then another quick scene, I’m in my body, weaving through the brunch crowd of Nottinghill Market, and my ears catch the melody and my eyes followed suit. Suddenly the crowd gave way, and I felt my intention to go to that particular stall from where the melody came from. “I must have it.

Snapped back, and my eyes saw me on my bed in real life.

Dreaming with my eyes open is much better than when closed.

Jelly Beans

And suddenly, out of nowhere, BAM!

All of 31 years hit me.

I’m always of the opinion that age is just a number, and I can never understand people who are overly sensitive about their age. Every age always seemed too old. I first heard it when I was 18, then 21, then 27, …. then especially 29. Then THIRTY (that deserved a spelling out in capital letters, b’cause, ya know, the gravity of it.)

I am just sitting here, minding my own business (i.e. social media – FB, pinterest etc), looking at pictures to zone out because I feel tired of reading and thinking. And I just feel so tired. But not in a way that I used to be, when I’m so angry at something, frustrated because the universe is just not going my way. On the contrary, I’m getting used to it. And I’m getting lazy. Also, not in the way I used to be, there’s more of a sense of giving up now.

So is this “growing up” ?

And let’s not get started on metabolism, and how you would think at my age I won’t be getting anymore zits.

Please, all my readers, (and that means all of you, Prav), PLEASE the next time you see me, please remind me that age is just a number. That I just misplaced my youth like an old mason jar of jelly beans at the aisles at the back of some dusty (yet quirky) second hand bookstore. And that I can find it back! Just that it might be past its expiry date, and, um- ok maybe that analogy might not be the best thing ever.



Back, 2014

So I’m back. Back to use this blog for its intended purpose : Letting Off Steam. And Most of The Time, Steam Is Tepid.

Have you ever had the feeling that you’ve been angry for so long that you forgot what you were angry about? There’s just a general sense of  “wrongness” that comes and goes every once in a while, like a nagging ghost on your back. And you make use of the various areas of the internet, for inspiration and distractions. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

So what will work? Religious faith? A support group? A lobotomy? What??

A holiday. Hm.

I need to go somewhere… inspirational and capitalistic at the same time. Japan? Europe? Austin, TX?

But the various things that I want, or need, none of them come with instructions on the packet that say “Just add water.” The only thing that was itemised under that particular list was popping my online shopping cherry. No worries there, let’s just say that there’s a whole lot of cherry jam on my shelves.

It’s raining outside. Damn, it’s crazy dark.

I shall write more.


And then,

Stressing over crap as usual. Ni tahap I feel like like I’m stressed but dunno over what.

And then :


My first real smile of the week.


Square 1 : Girl makes plans. The path is drawn, just about straight and just about forward. Girl walks down path, as planned. Suddenly a boulder falls down, tumbling down the mild slope, rolling rolling to a slow stop…… right on top of the path. Girl stops.

Square 2 : Girl sits down for a while to think. Crowd comes by to talk and to ask, “why are you stopping, Girl?” She answers, ” I need to think for a while… about how to get over this hump.” Crowd says, “Aw, you’re just making excuses aren’t you? Why can’t you just do something?” Girl asks,” Do what?” Crowd shrugs.

Square 3 : Girl cries by herself.

Square 4 : Girl slaps herself. “I refuse to be silly.”

Square 5 : Girl stands up and takes a deep breath. “Here goes nothing,” she whispers.

Square 6 : Back to Square 1.

“Someday I’ll be living in a big old city/and all you ever gonna be is mean”

One and a half months to go. Someone asked me whether I’ve counted in terms of days and I said no. Truth is that never even occured to me. I can barely remember what day or what month it is, let alone how many days to the big day. Or maybe that’s my problem.

I am overwhelmed. I wonder really, how do other people do it. And some people have aunts and cousins….. Here it’s just really mainly me n my mum thinking about it. And both of us are so busy with work already.

We had argument #453453gajillion about how I allegedly fed her the wrong information to the caterer (who we canceled the decor job, left with just the catering) about how we don’t need the skirting for the table. How am I supposed to knw that the skirting is done usually by the caterer and not the decorator?? She’s feeling guilty about going back to him to correct the understanding, and she was even willing to pay to get something which should’ve been complimentary!

The caterer is still doing the nikah pelamin, but still hasn’t gotten back to us on the design. They use email to send pics but never to reply my queries. And they have this whole…. Passive aggressive vibe about dealing with the cancellation. I really don’t get it, since they haven’t done anything yet, and the deposit can be channeled to other parts .. We are still taking the whole catering from them, which is the bulk of the spending anyway. Yeish.

Thank God the new decorator is so understanding. Mum and I both feel good about her, but I guess we’ll only know for sure on the day.

So…….. Lots n lotsa things to think about…. Last thing I need to think about is why my internal voice has a midwestern twang.

I blame Taylor Swift.