22

22

22 is the year of catch-up’s. It’s the year G graduates and I spend the first week of the second half missing him. 22 is too old to make friends, but not too old to find old friends. I rekindle friendships, find new lunch/study buddies, step out of my bubble.

22 is the year I have my first taste of corporate life and find that I actually like it. It’s the year I end my internship and G starts on his first job, a short getaway in between, the last summer for awhile. I look towards the CBD from school and find myself looking forward, wanting to catch up with G.

22 is the year I reconnect with old friends with whom I’ve lost touch. Social media doesn’t really allow you to lose touch completely, but browsing through pictures of familiar faces isn’t quite the same as a “Hello, how have you been?”. We drop the arrogance of neverending tomorrow’s and make time to meet up for a drink, a hug, a “I missed you too”.

22 is the year before the future. In the future we’ll all be holding real jobs, driving our own cars, wearing wedding bands and living in new flats. In the future we will still be the kids we are today, goofy and corny, laughing about those nights we spend sharing our hopes and worries about this future that we will be living.

22 is a good, good year.

the end of summer

the end of summer

3 weeks into summer and I realize that this is the last long summer holiday that I'll ever have. Penultimate year. Internships. Friends and boyfriend graduating. Other friends going away while time allows for long trips. I'm slowly beginning to realize that life only gets faster from here. There'd be no more lazy weekday afternoons for shopping, swimming and just hanging out; no more waking up at noon everyday; no more having the whole day to yourself, just watching Gossip Girl and reading a book.

For most of my life, each year has always been marked with a long summer break. A time for us to take stock of the first half of the year. A time for us to chill and find drive for the next half of the year. A time when days melt into one another and summer becomes one long hazy memory that's so mellow and sweet, like the dollop of honey that goes a long way in sweetening your cup of tea.

This summer, I found myself industriously hunting for an internship and when I finally land myself with one, I feel like someone stole my jar of honey - summer's cut short. No more languid afternoons. No more spontaneous day trips. No more "let's just pack up and leave" attitude.

Now I think I'm beginning to understand why people just quit their jobs and become wayfarers for awhile. It's because they've kept summer in their hearts all along. I hope I will too, when I finally leave school next summer.

grief on a rainy afternoon

grief on a rainy afternoon

The rain, grey and heavy, falling.

The grief, dark and swollen, breathing.

The love, warm and present, smiling.

For the girl with her father's smile -

the rain will clear,

the grief will ease,

but the love, the love will always live.

always the people

always the people

I missed home for the first time today. It was not that I didn't miss home before that; I always do, but it's that kinda dull ache that lingers somewhere just below the surface. You know it's there, but it never surfaces to engulf you.

This afternoon, out of nowhere, it did.

No wait, perhaps it's not out of nowhere. I think I know where. It's from the new places I've been to. Yet there's nothing intrinsic about the cities that I visit that made me miss home.

It's the people I meet who have that effect on me. Sheryll was the first. 11 days in NYC with her made me realize how much I miss AC. The people you meet outside are different, not in the bad way, but just different. Sometimes it's a nice, refreshing kind of different. Sometimes it's a kind of different that you can't get around. It just isn't the same.

Then on the Easter trip, I met Pengfei at West Point. He's Sherlyn's boyfriend and Glenn's army buddy. We marveled at how small the world is when we went on a double date last December. Yet now, we're all apart. Now I really miss G.

And this morning, skyping with Mommy and Daddy over breakfast really did it in.

See, it really isn't so hard to start a new life in a completely new place; I was doing so well. Then you meet someone from home, and wham, everything comes back. Because it's always the people you miss the most.

With Sheryll, at Coney Island.

With Pengfei, at West Point.

And home is truly where the heart is.

a little sunshine

a little sunshine

Nothing celebrates life like a little sunshine.

Lucky. We all are, really.

goodbye, hippo

goodbye, hippo

About 4 weeks ago, I discovered a tiny bump on Hippo’s nose that looked like a start of a pimple. Worried, I brought her to the vet. She was prescribed anti-biotics, which I had to coax/force-feed her every night.

A week later, there was no improvement, and the bump had grown bigger. Glenn, being very sweet, brought Hippo to the vet for me, because I had a busy week. The vet managed to extract some pus, and gave her a stronger dosage of anti-biotic and some vitamins. The poor little thing looked very upset after having her nose squeezed and poked at.

Still, the bump kept growing. The last visit to the vet saw a non-invasive operation to determine the nature of the lump, and I was told it wasn’t a pus sac. Instead, it’s a solid tumour, probably cancerous. Nothing could be done.

Over the weeks, I saw less of Hippo’s usual antics of digging around her wood waste, scurrying around the cage or running on her wheels. Slowly, she stopped eating and I fed by hand every night. It broke my heart.

I thought of putting her to sleep towards the end, but I decided not to. I didn’t want to play God. What if she didn’t understand? What if she was simply fighting to draw her last breath? So I told myself, when it’s time, God will take her. Until he does, Hippo shall have her favourites till the end. Then he did.

Hippo was my first pet in a long, long time. She was the smartest and the cutest hamster I’ve ever had. She’s a funny, greedy and friendly little thing. She’s taught me a few things about life, and I think I’ll always remember. So here’s to you, little creature.

I remember when I first got you, a small little ball of fur, hiding in a corner of your cage, shy. I remember playing with you with taped fingers, because you were young and feisty and you bit. I remember you learning to tear up the newspaper to line your little hut before I bought wood waste for you. I remember showing you off to my hall mates, and how you spat out all your food because you got scared from the noise and touches. I remember you peeing on my hand.

Then I remember you in your braver, grown-up days. I remember lugging you to hall every week, afraid you might get motion sickness from the journey. I remember when you got too fat for your wheel. I remember you teetering at the edge of my laundry basket, earnestly trying to run away while a big, buff boy (which would be Glenn) struggled to catch you. I remember bringing you out of my room every night because you made so much noise with the wheel we couldn’t fall asleep. I remember you running along the corners of the living room, surprising everyone with your surprised look. I remember your excitement each time I clean out your cage and put in new wood waste. I remember your favourite sunflower seeds and your dislike for banana. I remember the photo of you, looking alert and full of mischief, with the yoghurt right beneath your nose.

Finally, I remember you in your last days. I remember wrestling with you with a broken hand just to feed you your medicine. I remember how you always go into your sand-bath tub when you got upset with the medicine left on your nose. I remember holding the watermelon bits for you so that you could eat. I remember cradling you in my hand for the last time, knowing it was about time. And it was.

You taught me that hamsters are not supposed to bathe in water and that Science isn’t magic. Initially, I expected the vet to have a foolproof cure for you each time we visited. You taught me that death is a part of life. I’ve been sheltered for most of my life, and have been fortunate enough to have never faced death. I was terrified of you dying, but slowly, I learnt to let go.

All I hope is that I’ve been a decent owner, and made your life happy, because you’ve definitely brought joy into mine. I’ve left you in a place where the morning sun will shine each day. Rest in peace, little Hippo.

Je n’ai pensé jaimais que je t’aimerais comme ça. J’ai appris de toi que Dieu a créé l’amour le même pour tous les choses. Il n’y a pas beaucoup de différence entre les humains et les animaux, vraiment. Je t’aimais, ma petite créature.

lover/fighter

lover/fighter

I love her...

... so I fight for her. It is what lovers do. There is no dichotomy: lover or fighter? It is lover/fighter both. I fought to get her, so I fight to keep her while I’m with her. I do not understand those who fight only to get back what they have lost. You should have been fighting all along.

-ellipsis

At least I can say, I've been fighting all along.

How about you?

je t'aime

je t'aime

That's "I love you" in French.

The French don't have a translation for

"I love you very much."

Instead, "je t'aime beaucoup" changes the meaning completely -

it means "I like you very much".

You see, to the French, love cannot be measured.

There can be no more or no less.

There can only be love.

Love, a superlative in itself.

And I think the French are quite right.

Donc oui, je t'aime.

Sans limite ou fin.

Avec tout j'ai,

jusqu'il n'y a rien plus.

fall in love

fall in love

"The other side of the coin is this: Fall in love.

I didn't say "be loved". That requires too much compromise. If one changes one's looks, personality and values, one can be loved by anyone.

Rather, I exhort you to love another human being. It may seem odd for me to tell you this. You may expect it to happen naturally, without deliberation. That is false. Modern society is anti-love. We've taken a microscope to everyone to bring out their flaws and shortcomings. It's far easier to find a reason not to love someone, than otherwise. Rejection requires only one reason. Love requires complete acceptance. It is hard work - the only kind of work that I find palatable.

Loving someone has great benefits. There is admiration, learning, attraction and something which, for the want of a better word, we call happiness. In loving someone, we become inspired to better ourselves in every way. We learn the true worthlessness of material things. We celebrate being human. Loving is good for the soul.

Loving someone is therefore very important, and it is also important to choose the right person. Despite popular culture, love doesn't happen by chance, at first sight, across a crowded dance floor. It grows slowly, sinking roots first before branching and blossoming. It is not a silly weed, but a mighty tree that weathers every storm.

You will find, that when you have someone to love, that the face is less important than the brain, and the body is less important than the heart.

You will also find that it is no great tragedy if your love is not reciprocated. You are not doing it to be loved back. Its value is to inspire you."

Finally, you will find that there is no half-measure when it comes to loving someone. You either don’t, or you do with every cell in your body, completely and utterly, without reservation or apology. It consumes you, and you are reborn, all the better for it.

Adrian Tan's speech

at NTU Convocation 2008

love's tough

love's tough

Maybe it’s the rain. Maybe it’s the extra time I have to sit alone and think. I found the last few days exceptionally draining and tiring. It’s not so much the physical exhaustion; it’s the sudden emotional burn out that took me by surprise. There are even moments when I find it hard to breathe.

I feel an urgent need to get away for a day, to be alone. I’m tired of trying so hard, of being in someone else’s shoes. I feel let down by myself. I think I haven’t been loving myself enough.

Relationships are never easy. Recently, in the face of life and its madness, love seemed especially tough. Promises are rendered tiny by priorities. And when these burdens aren’t mine to cast aside, I simply don’t know what to do. There is nothing I can do.

But I don’t want to be the one who gave up on someone I love. I don’t want to look back and realize I didn’t try hard enough.

I’m torn between me and you. But there’s no third way out. What do I do? Do we have to lose before we learn?