Tuesday, 30 November 2010

LIL' KIM (Feat. Sisqo): "How Many Licks"

He never heard of her thereafter. She drifted away like a piece of wood on the ocean and surrendered to the wills of nature, in stead of her own, for it requires more effort to swim than to float. Moreover, it assumes a destination, a vague idea at least of where you are heading to. And all too plenty of ideas she had, yet none of it encompassed it all. She had no master plan, no perseverance also to complete even one of the many things she ever started. Many frantically juggle with an ever-increasing number of cones in the circus of life; she chooses to put them down and give up. Patience was a virtue she had never sought to acquire.

Perhaps he had been nothing more to her than a tree to sniffle on, with the curiosity of an unleashed dog that wags its tail happily while wandering aimlessly in the park on a lazy summer Sunday. He turns his head to the pond; the sound of children’s drama and acted tears. He realised that his fate was just as randomly determined as that of an ice-cream by the whims of a spoilt child, who bans a scoop to the trash bin after just one lick, after having begged for it relentlessly first.

Thursday, 25 November 2010

PEARL JAM: "Long Road"

The night is pregnant of brilliant ideas. The horizon brims with a sweaty anxiety. An odour of desire looms into a shadow that is mistaken for darkness. It’s a long road from the heart to the mouth.

Friday, 19 November 2010


We are only crazy through the eyes of others.

Tuesday, 9 November 2010

Cartel: "The Perfect Mistake"

I discovered yoga by chance, by mistake almost. I had been doing long-distance running for a number of years, until I ultimately ran a 42.195 km distance never to repeat it again in this lifetime. Only humans are a species crazy enough to focus on a random number like that, and to spend a few years of their life cultivating it. After reaching that self-imposed goal, I felt a bit disoriented and turned to the gym for a change. But it takes bravery to keep visiting a fitness centre. Most of us start fanatically, but when the enthusiasm of the new year’s resolutions fade, it’s very hard to stay motivated by the cold metal sound of weights falling down, or the view in the mirror of oneself lifting dumbbells.

Sure, I had peeked through the classroom window occasionally, and I had noticed that bunch of disciples performing all kinds of silly poses in front of their instructor, but “yoga is for girls, right?” and “it can’t be that hard”. Nonetheless, one day I joined the centre’s yoga class that I had inconspicuously been observing for a number of weeks already, and I felt like an intruding duckling in a group of graceful swans. But to my surprise, the swans accepted me, and they didn’t notice that I suffered so hard during my very first hour of yoga ever. Perhaps it was courtesy of them pretending not to be aware of my legs trembling like an erupting volcano. Perhaps it was their good manners not to hear my choking, as if I were fuming like that same cursed volcano. In any case, something changed inside of me. Beyond my prejudice, I felt I belonged there, in that very moment, when all thoughts seemed to escape like ashes in the air. And when I closed my eyes after that one hour of intense yoga practice, I felt peaceful, silent, yet invigorated. I was immovable, but moved. It was love at first fight, but a fight I loved to lose.

Sunday, 7 November 2010

CAT STEVENS: "Morning Has Broken"

The night evaporates in the morning dew; a long shadow that stretches itself out behind me like a lazy cat. The lion city roars rather like a sleepy kitty at this merciless early time of the day. A bird tweets for attention, happy to be noticed before the increasing swell of street sounds will drown his melody in a whirlpool of noise. The carpet trader is struggling to open the padlock of his shophouse; some aunties are cutting fresh vegetables in an empty restaurant. Every open window frames an enchanting painting. A city is beautiful in its ugliness. My pace is light, as I walk through colourful Haji Lane. The stench of some cigarettes, the foul smell of beer. Odorous remains of late night troops on the loose, who wandered on the roads in quest for companionship. When we seek thrills, it’s actually the sense of belonging we are after. It’s easier to betray oneself in search of recognition by others, than to recognize yourself. The escape to inner freedom starts when we break the chains that others impose on us. That’s what makes yoga so appealing. Forget about the wary smiles, the raised eyebrows. In yoga, you don’t have to adopt a pose, you become the pose. I step in for my today’s yoga teacher’s class. I crave for coffee.