Sitting on a sea of green,
I hear the sounds of planes above.
Looking up to see one after another,
filling up the sounds in the air.
The wind blows continuously,
while trees sway to the beats.
A harmonious sight spreads before me,
and I hear birds chirping around me.
All these creates a sense of calm and ease,
creating moments of surreality within,
striking a chord in contrast to yesterday’s terror.
It’s the fifth day of 2016. The period I have been counting down to since over three years ago. It’s not exactly the end of the chapter yet.
However, I am nearing the end of the path. The excitement of starting a new phase is not as strong as the nerves that’s building up of not being able to start any sooner. Seemingly in control but somehow not feeling entirely in control.
I can’t wait for the end of Winter to make her exit and to pull Spring into my embrace. Inspiration and Motivation await around the corner.
Riding emotions high;
when the balloon burst,
I see angel’s dust fall,
just like Alice in Wonderland.
Heart beating at a constant rhythm,
akin to still water,
Particles within my body,
catching on the beat,
stimulating an orchestra song,
abundance I feel,
It was so long ago but yet I still recognise her. In Jan 2005, I shook hands with this tall British lady – a consultant I met on my first real job – 10 years my senior. She was one of my admired individual and I did what I could to emulate her. My vivid memory of the first meeting – confident, smiley and professional. Over the next six months, I discovered more likeable traits and I couldnt help liking her more and more. Armed with the ability to deal with things in her stride, she broke down problems and developed viable solutions. At the same time, her endless patience and optimism stood strong against demands and tight project timelines. I strove to be like her as much as I could.
Roll forward six years – she still looked nearly the same, we didnt feel as though there was a gap. Still as chatty, smiley and open and honest. Nothing seemed to have changed. Only I did. I havent yet to be like her yet. Still a far cry, the optimism I felt from her was endearingly familiar but the wall I have erected over the years appeared to have filtered off the full effect. Someone once told me, it’s easier to be sad rather than happy. As such, he has been trying to be more engaging and to succeed in the more challenging task. K looks to have succeeded. Beaming with happiness, she chatted on about everything and the conversation was flowing on throughout the roast duck meal along Gerrad Street.
Stories were exchanged and gaps were filled over the past few years. It felt heart-warming and I could still recall the coffee and toast sessions we had at Harbourfront. She mentioned about the gift I gave to her which I have totally forgotten but I did recall the experience and advice she shared with me when I was still very much a greenhorn. In the past, each time I talked to her, the gloom just lifted and everything looked straightforward and easy to conquer. Except for the evidence of age, K was the same, I observed. Perhaps just maybe, with an additional tinge of steel and optimism, despite life’s obstacles.
Looking forward to spending time with her and her fiance at their countryside house, I conclude with conviction that she has not been my idol in vain.
Fulwell/Stanley Road. The final destination of the bus I take every morning stares at me before I mount the steps of a single deck London bus.
The thought always lingers at the back of my mind how it looks like.
I finally received my answer yesterday morning. (Yes, it’s now past midnight)
Of course curiosity has not pushed me that much to search for the answer. It crept onto me unexpectedly. Yes, as usual I fell into my usual slumber with music plugged into my ears. I settled into the second inner seat behind the back door and tried to read a newspaper about economics. Finally, the constant bus momentum coupled with my half awakened state on an early Tuesday morning did me in.
Perhaps it was due to the advancement of the hour hand on 27 Mar 1am GMT. It could be due to the fatigue from a consecutive five days of nights out. I actually MISSED my stop. Out of the nearly six months of bus travelling and each time I always doze off, I have only missed my stop around three times, if I remember rightly. And I only went over a maximum of two stops away!!
This time round, the bus driver had to tap me and wake me up. It’s totally shocking to have broken my proud track record! Fortunately I was way early before my official clocking in hours and I easily took a stroll of about 20min to the office. Other than annoyance over my broken record, two good things turned out from it – the refreshing and quiet walk kept me on my toes for a while and the query at the back of my mind has certainly been replied.