Kindly Yours

It dawned that the need for accumulation was a fallacy. The more one gains, he thought, the more one has to lose. A rising surge of good feeling swept through as he looked at the papers shredded or thrown away in heaps. It was symbolic of the loss he felt inside, the loss of his sincere trust in certain others who manipulated or used him like a paper doll. Funny that such people can misplace his extended hand of friendship to them. Sad and disappointing, but in the end, for them. The physical disposal was also reflected in electronic deletion. He did not understand why certain individuals around the place were deluding themselves creating imagined needs and ordering others to duplicate things in so many dimensions, as if paranoid that these duplicates would be required in the future - or is it that these individuals actually had nothing of value to contribute and had to make a semblance of activity and importance around their wrapped minds? It was not that amazing that so many things k...

There they were, each in a seemingly cocooned world, all as if choreographed to a tilting perfection. Each person twirled and expressed in individualistic style, some were coached, others imagined on their own and yet there were some who moved in synchronised style, not just physically but in spirit. You could see that a few took a break after a short stint, while in contrast, some could not stop, and only did when there was a lack of space. Most telling was how one reacted when there was an unintentional fall. The younger ones took all this more in their stride, and the older novices tended to be less sure of how to pick one's self up. More interesting was how a learner looked up to the mentor and watched in earnestness the graciousness of the teacher's moves. Even more rewarding was how the instructors had this satisfaction in their faces when they realised that their proteges had moved on to another stage of their passion. Maybe it takes more than just stirring interest to...

The round full moon focused its mellow intensity on to my living room. The garden solar-powered lights complemented the unavoidable spotlight from the springtime star-dotted night sky. The lawn was lit in a light hearted sheen that seemed to nurture the green grass rather than apparently burn down on them. This was a magical moment, something we all know requires the perfect alignment - and maybe coincidence - of the stars, wind and time. On Sunday, after coming out from Joel Aden's birthday party, my Forrester indicated it was thirty-three degrees Celsius outside on a shiny torrid afternoon in Sydney's north-west. The mileage showed a chalk-up of 33,333 kilometres - an incredible hallmark moment when I happened to glance at this synchronisation of numbers. You may say that we don't plan such things, we set in motion a chain and sequence of events, usage and preparation to then by chance arrive at a remarkable observation. I had been trying for a week to pay some minor ...

It is easier to locate an outlet selling alcohol in Australia than one serving salads, offering gymnasium facilities or a place offering positive help in community matters. The encouraged lifestyle reeks of alcohol - advertising media, sports celebrations, commercial office functions and social cocktails. The largest supermarket chain places its liquor outlets near the checkout. Accessory products and services support and facilitate their consumption, from motor car portable fridges to the compulsory bar at the local clubs. It is implied that one has alcoholic drinks before settling into any dinner - formal, casual or spontaneous. Wine is introduced as a posh feature, consolidated in family and other occasions and any possibility of upscaling in taste to somthing more hard is officially sanctioned once one turns eighteen years of age. Who is to take responsibility when faced with the dire consequences of excessive alcohol consumption? Does letting go mean recklessly escaping into a...

This was the world of university days, when relief meant getting away from the books, assignments and lecture routine. Neat rows of houses were lined up along grid roads in what was a typical housing estate. There was a green lung of a square green,which I still associate with Simon, Stephen and Kuan Hong sitting there on its edge, after an early dinner and before the equatorial sunset. There was the cinema quarter, surrounded by terraced shophouses, motorbike parking spots and push-bike hawkers. Road 6 does not seem to have changed, still exuding the presence of student rooms, walls bleached by the strong sun and upper floor balconies choked with items that could not be stored inside. However the cinema is gone, replaced by a mixed goods supermarket. I wonder about the youngsters who grew up in the other rooms while I took one facing the road. I think about the mixed rice dishes which was sold at a price that I cannot even get a Coke can for these days. How regimented our student ...