Want.

How does one go from being wanted desperately,

to wanting desperately?

 

A Question

If I don’t and can’t expect anything from you,

then what should and could I expect from whom?

Kondrashv Sergey, Autumn.

The Dilemma & Mothers’ Day

Last week, I brought my Mom out for an early Mother’s day treat @ Fort Canning. A Midsummer Night’s Dream @ Fort Canning. She thoroughly enjoyed herself. She’s a fan of Shakespeare, and if there’s one thing I will be eternally grateful for, it will be the love of literature that she shared with me. As a kid, I was exposed to Shakespeare more than anything else, starting with bedtime stories. I loved the shrewdness of Portia in Merchant of Venice, the love-struck Romeo in Romeo & Juliet and mostly, I loved the magic of a Midsummer Night’s Dream. I remember how devastated I was to have not been allocated Shakespeare in my final year course bidding in NUS, and my following ecstasy that followed when my appeal was approved. It is all thanks to my mother. Bringing her for the show was a full-circle moment. Years after she read Shakespeare from a blue bound book to a star-struck kid falmost every night, there we were, sitting under a marquee, sipping wine on a full-moon magical night. I can’t give an unbiased review of the performance as I was just enjoying the magic and mayhem that was unfolding among the greens of Fort Canning Park. It was creative and the space was used very well. The only thing we felt could have been slightly better would be the costumes. There were fairies, but they seemed too Hanging-Out-At-Far-East-Plaza-Teenagey. And that was a little letdown. I mean, they were fairies! Fairies are beautiful and pretty and magical. Not teenagey. But oh well. Overall, it was a  beautiful night, and we had tons of fun.

Right after that, I was lamenting to my mother. I wished I was still in school. Still doing literature. I wished that I would do literature for the rest of my life. After whining a bit, with my mom as usual patiently listening, we went back home. An hour later, my dad comes back with the previously mentioned Brown Envelope. My application for Masters in Literary Studies was approved and they sent me the Offer letter. First, I was in shock, and then I jumped around my whole house.

And now. I’m stuck with a dilemma. After drawing a healthy, steady income for half a year, it’s difficult to let go of it all. Where I work, there are tons of perks. Bonuses, holidays, credits to use on courses to upgrade and expose yourself etc etc etc. Not only that. I’m finally getting the whole idea of responsibility and how much I have to give back to my parents (it is never going to be enough, not even for a lifetime). As much as they are encouraging me to go for it, I am thinking two, three, ten times. What do I do after that? What do I do during my Masters? It’s full time, I’ll be earning a bit. But only just a bit. Still, this is Literature. How do I let go of that? I haven’t decided, but I know I’ll be crazy to let this opportunity go.  Well, we’ll see. And I thought choosing between jobs is going to be difficult… ha.

Mothers’ Day is tomorrow! Of course, it is not to say that it is only on this day should we show our appreciation. I know many of us, as we grow older, learn that our parents are the only ones who practise unconditional love. Unconditional as it really is.  I’m going to take this day as an extra time to reflect, onthe amount of money she has spent on us (she has repeatedly told me that she could be a millionairess should she not have had kids), on the amount of time she spent with us, the love she showered, for laughing with me, for crying with me and for giving me the greatest gift of all – the love for reading. Tomorrow, I’m going to give her that extra hug and a huge, sloppy kiss on her cheek. Hey, why wait, let me go right now. :) 

 

Little Dark World.

The world is a dark place.
Every single person seems to hold a dark secret in the depths of their being.
But there are some things are far worse that secrets.
People who do strange things. Shameful things. Knowingly.
Some things in the world that we believe happen only on film.

But they pretend.
Pretend that they are entitled to do that.
Pretend that it’s their display of inner individuality.
Pretend that they are ‘mistakes’ to learn from.
And worst of all, they pretend that it is right.
That it is good for them.
And pretend that the shame they feel does not exist.
And ignore their conscience gnawing at them, their soul slowly being eaten away.
It’s strange. How these people could be around you right this very second.

But alas, life as we know it, is often stranger than fiction.

There.

Feeling extremely and completely jaded.

Sometimes, I feel that I should, for the rest of my life, engage myself in mindless, routine 8-5 jobs so maybe, just maybe, over time I would become a mechanical robot, devoid of feelings and emotions.

Sometimes, it’s best that way.