What I would love to say at work:
"It might look like I'm doing nothing, but at cellular level I'm really quite busy."
"Thank you. We're all refreshed and challenged by your unique point of view."
"I'm out of my mind, but feel free to leave a message... "
"Someday, we'll look back on this, laugh nervously and change the subject."
-- this is why I love Stumble!
Thursday, 13 November 2008
Thursday, 30 October 2008
2008.10.23 Fly Me to Bangkok
come fly with me
stay a little while above the clouds
we'll fly into the dawn
when you open your eyes
we're there...
in Krung Thep
the city of angels.
Sawasdee!
stay a little while above the clouds
we'll fly into the dawn
when you open your eyes
we're there...
in Krung Thep
the city of angels.
Sawasdee!
Wat Phra Kaew
Ramakien figure outside the templeThe splendour of Wat Phra Kaew (Temple of Emerald Buddha) enchants the eyes of the beholders. The temple is so grand, yet the namesake of the place: the Emerald Buddha itself, is quite small. Despite its minute size, it is the most venerated icon in Thailand. The Buddha was dressed in a gilded monastery robe with headress since it was rainy season then. I was told that the Buddha will be dressed in golden shawl in winter, while in summer, he will be dressed with a crown and jewelry.
The reclining Buddha at Wat Pho
View across Chao Phraya from Wat Arun
After bringing us to Wat Pho and Wat Arun (it was his first time visiting these places although he was bornt and bred in Bangkok), MooH said: Since I have been to two temples this year, I don't have to go to temple next year. ~_~* (he has one-temple-a-year policy)Besides the mandatory sightseeing, we had the essential Thai culinary experience in one of the local markets and in a shopping centre in Sukhumvit area. The food was great: papaya salad, sticky rice, roasted chicken, minced pork for lunch (this meal offered a mix sour, spicy, and sweet taste) and the best Japanese meal ever for dinner (well, Jap food is not really a Thai experience, but it proves the point that food in Thailand is fantastic!).
In addition, we tried all kinds of public transportation in the city: bus, BTS (skytrain), river express, cross-river ferry, tuk-tuk, and taxi.
Bangkok reminds us of Jakarta, only better and cleaner.
A rendezvous, a déjàvu.
The two people that make Bangkok so memorable (=
Sunday, 19 October 2008
a friend told me once that he always thought that the best moments are when one is 80% happy.
i thought about it for a long time.
happiness is elusive. most of the time we sit in the midst of happiness and sadness, in the gap, where feelings are scarce and unmemorable. and then something comes along. so we live.
i sip my coffee every morning. it gives me a certain happiness. and then i got onto a packed mrt train, that nullifies the coffee effect. i went into office lobby, waiting for the lift. i saw the cute colleague, and my heart gives a little leap. work starts, and feelings are put to rest and mind is set to work.
in the long term, these little feelings in the morning hardly matters. it is unmemorable.
in contrast,
the first snow in life is unforgettable. i remember mine. if anything, i was probably at the moment of 80% happiness.
sitting outside a cafe in a small beach in italy, listening to street musician playing a tune so familiar, a song heard over the radio many years ago, is another happiness realized. at that moment, nothing else in the world matters.
these moments make my world goes round. but those unmemorable moments are the ones that make the world goes round.
my world is small, but the world is one big, big place.
and to be alive, has always been, will always be a grand thing in its own right.
i thought about it for a long time.
happiness is elusive. most of the time we sit in the midst of happiness and sadness, in the gap, where feelings are scarce and unmemorable. and then something comes along. so we live.
i sip my coffee every morning. it gives me a certain happiness. and then i got onto a packed mrt train, that nullifies the coffee effect. i went into office lobby, waiting for the lift. i saw the cute colleague, and my heart gives a little leap. work starts, and feelings are put to rest and mind is set to work.
in the long term, these little feelings in the morning hardly matters. it is unmemorable.
in contrast,
the first snow in life is unforgettable. i remember mine. if anything, i was probably at the moment of 80% happiness.
sitting outside a cafe in a small beach in italy, listening to street musician playing a tune so familiar, a song heard over the radio many years ago, is another happiness realized. at that moment, nothing else in the world matters.
these moments make my world goes round. but those unmemorable moments are the ones that make the world goes round.
my world is small, but the world is one big, big place.
and to be alive, has always been, will always be a grand thing in its own right.
Saturday, 27 September 2008
bright saturday afternoon
pretty curls flowing in the wind
one, two, up you go
one moment you were on your feet
next you were on your hands
hanging off a little arch
three seconds of pure, simple joy
repeat
repeat
repeat
how could you be so happy, little one?
are you an angel?
are you stranger to the world?
what can i say to you?
should i speak of the world that i know?
no,
instead i should talk of happiness, of the pure blue sky above us,
of candies and chocolates, of careless abandon in the playground,
of a child's bright eyes
.
.
.
Joie de vivre - a joy of everything.
pretty curls flowing in the wind
one, two, up you go
one moment you were on your feet
next you were on your hands
hanging off a little arch
three seconds of pure, simple joy
repeat
repeat
repeat
how could you be so happy, little one?
are you an angel?
are you stranger to the world?
what can i say to you?
should i speak of the world that i know?
no,
instead i should talk of happiness, of the pure blue sky above us,
of candies and chocolates, of careless abandon in the playground,
of a child's bright eyes
.
.
.
Joie de vivre - a joy of everything.
Thursday, 18 September 2008
I blog less now. There are couples of drafts left in the dashboard, collecting dust; each contains fragments of memories that are not well-versed and thoughts that are foggy: hazy mist that hides something important that I don't know what. It becomes quite frustrating to write, because I have all these thoughts but my words are so cold and flat.
I used to write letters, because I really wanted to keep in touch with old friends back home. I had so many things to say: the new place, the new school, the new friends, the new crush, the feelings, and most of all to say that I really missed them. As time went by, as the new life settled down, it became harder to write. Lives became more disconnected and the invisible, yet tangible distance grew wider until I couldn't see or feel the people on the other side anymore. I still missed them, but all I could write was 'Hello, how have you been? I miss you.' I couldn't keep on doing that, no? It's just too depressing. So I decided to keep these friends in an imaginary beautiful box with all the fancy letter sets, and labelled it keepsakes.
Today, in the classroom training at work, there were 2 Indonesians in my group. They are new to Singapore, coming here since few months ago to work. And it took them some time to find out that I was also an Indonesian. They even thought that I could not understand Indonesian. And one of them kept saying that although I was Indonesian, I was already converted. I was pissed at him for saying that. He was right to judge that I am not very Indonesian anymore, I have been away for too long. But I am not converted. They wouldn't know it, but the right word to use is actually displaced. I am a displaced person. Not quite an Indonesian, but not a Singaporean either.
Just yesterday, I met a friend for a drink by the river, in the middle of the town, in one of the most tumultuous periods in the finance history. The sky was still bright when we met and the place was still quite empty. As the sun went down and the evening set in, more people filled the place. People in suits drowning pints of beer, discussing about the flurry of events unfolding this week. I guess during hard times, drinks go down faster, willing them to give a temporal reprieve to the troubled minds. And there we were, at the threshold of the working life, quite comfortably unscathed by the things happening around us, but realizing that it would be our world in no time. Maybe it's the drinks, maybe it's the company, I'm not quite sure how we ended up talking for about 5 hours straight. I'm not complaining though, since having good chats are really therapeutic. And who knows, I might have found myself a kindred spirit.
And these days I met Lt for lunch quite often, and it makes me quite happy. Much happier than when I go for lunch with my colleagues. Maybe this just goes to show that I am a misfit for the present. I can comfortably be myself around old friends, and I don't quite know where I stand right now. When I go for lunch with colleagues of about the same age as me, often I find them very high-schoolish. When it's lunch with my older colleagues (those that have already worked for several years, already married, already have children), I find myself being so out of phase with them, not being able to offer any advise or give suggestions. I realise things are much better when I talk with the non-Singaporeans.
Ok, at this point in time, my mind drifts away. I have been juggling between completing this post and surfing websites for the past 10 minutes. I better end with a comic strip I found on Dilbert blog and publish this entry. Before it adds on to the draft list.
I used to write letters, because I really wanted to keep in touch with old friends back home. I had so many things to say: the new place, the new school, the new friends, the new crush, the feelings, and most of all to say that I really missed them. As time went by, as the new life settled down, it became harder to write. Lives became more disconnected and the invisible, yet tangible distance grew wider until I couldn't see or feel the people on the other side anymore. I still missed them, but all I could write was 'Hello, how have you been? I miss you.' I couldn't keep on doing that, no? It's just too depressing. So I decided to keep these friends in an imaginary beautiful box with all the fancy letter sets, and labelled it keepsakes.
Today, in the classroom training at work, there were 2 Indonesians in my group. They are new to Singapore, coming here since few months ago to work. And it took them some time to find out that I was also an Indonesian. They even thought that I could not understand Indonesian. And one of them kept saying that although I was Indonesian, I was already converted. I was pissed at him for saying that. He was right to judge that I am not very Indonesian anymore, I have been away for too long. But I am not converted. They wouldn't know it, but the right word to use is actually displaced. I am a displaced person. Not quite an Indonesian, but not a Singaporean either.
Just yesterday, I met a friend for a drink by the river, in the middle of the town, in one of the most tumultuous periods in the finance history. The sky was still bright when we met and the place was still quite empty. As the sun went down and the evening set in, more people filled the place. People in suits drowning pints of beer, discussing about the flurry of events unfolding this week. I guess during hard times, drinks go down faster, willing them to give a temporal reprieve to the troubled minds. And there we were, at the threshold of the working life, quite comfortably unscathed by the things happening around us, but realizing that it would be our world in no time. Maybe it's the drinks, maybe it's the company, I'm not quite sure how we ended up talking for about 5 hours straight. I'm not complaining though, since having good chats are really therapeutic. And who knows, I might have found myself a kindred spirit.
And these days I met Lt for lunch quite often, and it makes me quite happy. Much happier than when I go for lunch with my colleagues. Maybe this just goes to show that I am a misfit for the present. I can comfortably be myself around old friends, and I don't quite know where I stand right now. When I go for lunch with colleagues of about the same age as me, often I find them very high-schoolish. When it's lunch with my older colleagues (those that have already worked for several years, already married, already have children), I find myself being so out of phase with them, not being able to offer any advise or give suggestions. I realise things are much better when I talk with the non-Singaporeans.
Ok, at this point in time, my mind drifts away. I have been juggling between completing this post and surfing websites for the past 10 minutes. I better end with a comic strip I found on Dilbert blog and publish this entry. Before it adds on to the draft list.
