Little Bangkok

We have a new squattter -- Scruffy, a gypsy with an appetite for affection as large as her appetite for food. It didn't take us long to befriend her and break her in once she accepted our invitation to lunch. Since then, we had been gathering twice a day -- once for lunch and once for supper. But she is dirty; she wanders about all day and haunts our corridors regularly with her disarming call. We had considered suggesting some form of bathing or personal hygene for Scruffy, but we were sure that she wasn't going to accept. Well, if she obliged, then she'd be allowed to curl up on the bed with the other furrballs. But then we'd never be able to make sure she stays clean beyond the day we physically see to it.

I guess we could have extended the hospitality to Grumpy as well, but Scrufy doesn't like him. She openly displays her disapproval whenever he enters the room. I guess his characteristic rake-on-gravel greeting doesn't do much for improving his reputation either. We had our eyebrows raised when we noticed Grumpy trailing her down the corridors on some days. Despite a lack of better suitors, Scruffy has insisted on placing her dignity before his advances. Beyond, mere evolutionary incompatibility, we suspected that Grumpy was probably one of those guys with some kind of social inaptness, like bad breath, body odour or just a plain unappealing voice. The poor girl.

We're nevertheless thankful for this new addition to "the illegals" family in our neighbourhood. A new muse to help smooth the rough edges and bridge the short fuses. There's already plenty of that we have had to handle over the last few weeks -- the last thing we'd need would be to have little Grumffies and Scrumpies running around.

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I met Scruffy earlier this morning for breakfast. Well, it was more of an invitatino from Scruffy -- she came calling at the door at about 6.45 am. I almost ran into her when I was heading out to collect the laundry; somehow that little gypsy just knows when I'm awake.

Food had always been a rather quick and purposeful affair for Scruffy and me. I'd lay out the dishes and she'd tuck in, a grateful nod to sign her thanks. This morning was no exception, though I noticed a look of sleep still wrapped around her face. There's just something very personal about being able to yawn together with someone. Ha... Scruffy.

It's a real pity we couldn't share breakfast with Her. She didn't wake with me and nag me out of my lazy sleep. I didn't have the subtle pleasures of coaxing her awake soundless, with a very personal alarm clock. It was just Scruffy and I this morning, and I was packing. She was packed; packed and ready to fly.

On my way down to the airport, I scavanged for a space on the morning train; swooping down to the first target, still warm from the kill. Tucking my burdens under me and heaving my sleepy limbs against the seat supports, I breathed a half-sigh and drifted to the electronic lullaby of the train mechanics.

A holiday, finally, for us. She's going to Bangkok and I'm headed for KL, our parting separated by two nights. Given the pace of our vacation programs thus far, I'd say that it's about time we had this well-deserved break. For days now I had been contemplating my impending fate without her. The days would pass easy. It is the nights that will prove tricky. I know for certain that I am no longer the same naive sentimental fool I used to be, but I certainly have come to appreciate the little things between us more than before.

The impression she leaves on and with me are always subtle. It's the little things, she once said to me. I wonder if she considered the nights "little things" too. Certainly the darkness holds much for us, but now that Bangkok sparkles with her scent I tingle with a wariness of the familiarity of darkfall. I'm sure the days will drug me sufficiently for sleep to come easily, but it would be purposeful.

Well, I think that it would be snowing by the time I return. In my heart at least, but I'm sure she'll notice the subtle look in my eye. For now, I hope she has a safe trip to Bangkok. There are now two beats in that heart she carries -- hers and ours. Please, be safe and have fun.


JKLM

Tribute

My music director is a teacher. He is a teacher because he taught me more about myself than about the music he helped me to make. He taught me to open my eyes, free my heart and dance to the music in my soul. He taught me that I could still learn when I thought that I had already known all that I needed to know. He requested me to leave my ego at the doorstep and showed me that he still respected me when I was disarmed. He showed me that he had a temper, but he was also fair, and funny too.

Through him, I have learnt to let Him and Her be. It's their choices, not mine. My previous entry was proven to have gone through as little considerate thought as it took me to fire the slew of digital accusations. My opinions don't matter for now because they are merely observations from my position.

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At 1 a.m., that familiar warmth curled up beside me, it felt like home. Not the physical domain, instead, it's the final port my ship comes to call. My shield from the storm, the winds and the rain -- my home away from home. For the tingle of her comfort at the end of the day, I'd slave for a day and risk much more away from her.

At 8 a.m., her opulent gems are a sight to behold. As they fight back fingers of sleepy restraint, her eyelids betray their struggle -- bright and glittering orbs of child-like passion. The eyes can't be the windows to the soul, because if they are so, her soul should be darker than night and more consuming than the depths. But they are warm and comforting, offering a seclusion that I can retreat to in respite to find peace -- peace in her hands.

Whenever I hide, I close my eyes. I close my eyes to concentrate on feeling and touching. Every night, before we drift away, there is a dance her hands perform in an almost ritualistic manner. A stacato tapdance, they dance upon the surface on which they rest, seemingly welcoming our impending journey. I close my eyes and wait for that performance nightly now, and it has become my adopted ritual. Without them, sleep is but purposeful and short, nothing like the way we drift to wake and find one another again.


JKLM

Hollow Victories

Sometimes victories can be hollow. In spite of hopes that certain thoughts would not materialise, and that certain people's habits won't show, they still do. It's a hollow victory simply because nobody benefits from that correct guess. It's also hollow because it empties me out when I have to mask my annoyance and PR my way through the day's efforts.

Alright, to be fair, it has been a tough day for everyone. And while I had not expected them to be extremely enthusiastic and productive still by the time they had reached their second job site, I certianly had hoped that they wouldn't just sit around and be passive about things.

A few thoughts crossed my mind even before their return. Firstly, there was not informing anyone of the other committment they had on during the earlier part of the day. I guessed as much that their assumption was that someone would inform the others about it. Fine. My next thought was one on fairness / equity: where is your priority? Given that you guys were pretty stubborn about having the dates fixed in their current arrangement, I guess that it was just an unfortunate accident that these two events had to clash. Fine. Perhaps there was an emergency of some sort. Perhaps it was on short notice. Whatever.

Secondly, while I had blamed myself for being overly judgemental when my unoccupied mind drifted through the above thoughts before their arrival, I had a sneeking suspicion that it was going to come true. I didn't really want it to come true, though I knew that there was nothing I could do to prevent it or avoid it in the opposite case. Still, I had expected it to be different, given their earlier stance and sentiments.

So I was right. She was disappointing as usual -- more talk than action, more passive action than active interest. I don't want to judge or blame her because I don't think I have the right to. Thus, the hollow victory.

I just don't fully understand why he is spending time on her. Until the time I feel that my feelings are no longer biased and I am able to approach this topic rationally once again, I shall reserve my opinions. But frankly, it doesn't take too much to impress me.

So there.


JKLM