Jordan, Prelude

Ships and containers call at Jordan's only maritime access, the southern Red Sea port of Aqaba, a narrow strip bordering Israel, Egypt and Saudi Arabia. The hills and buildings of the Israeli town of Eilat are visible on the horizon. 

It's mid-Ramadan now, and a good two weeks since I returned from a trip to Jordan. It felt good to be back in the Middle East – Jordan has been generous – and it's also good to be writing again here it's unbelievable: the last time I propped anything up here was nearly three years ago. 

Undeniably, it's a shame that I stopped writing altogether. Therefore it is becoming harder to write now: it seems like an uphill task, flexing those rusty writing guns. How it feels now to write is like attempting to compose patchy, bite-sized thoughts to produce a fabric irregularly woven, but I'm inclined nonetheless to accept that as part of the constant, necessary creative process. It is, ultimately, celebratory.

The trip to Jordan, too, was a cause for celebration. My hardworking and resilient cousin just graduated from her studies in dentistry, much to my uncle's pride. I was lucky enough to be able to share their happiness. Seeing both of them rightfully proud and joyous made my heart full. I was grateful to be given the chance to witness that, and seeing them happy was enough for me. I'm pretty sure the achievement is more than enough for both of them and their family. My cousin is smart, but she's also been resoundingly patient, grateful and attentive. She deserves the success.

The weight of her graduation marks a point of inspiration for me. It's a humbling affair. I have been through a fair share of graduation ceremonies, mine included, but none carried as much impact and meaning as much as this one. It wasn't about the distance, really, neither does the scale matter. It was probably because I was so drawn to how my uncle greatly appreciates the effort made by her daughter, perhaps more than how my cousin appreciates the achievement herself. It made the struggle so much worth it. It's a simple, straightforward notion, but so visibly special. 

As for Jordan, the country made it even more beautiful. Summer has arrived, and the sun was sometimes harsh, but the landscape endured. The Mediterranean wind blew anyway, the sky took different hues, olive and fig trees still lush. It was amazing, making our way in the midst of the loud dabkeh blasting through the streets of Amman; racing through the crowd going nuts in the sweets and nuts store, sipping an endless supply of qahwah and shai and shumam; dizzied by the colours of spices, blaring honks and Arab youths randomly blocking the streets, dancing; dipping (sometimes literally) in the dramatic forms of geography, cutting deep into many forms of history. 

More soon. I need to settle some errands.

Once Upon A Fort

A man cycles along Rampart St in Galle, Southern Sri Lanka, January 25 2013.

I felt fortunate, albeit for a short while, for having to encounter such a pleasant surprise: this little, cosy fortified town. This little beauty's name here is Galle. Surrounded by pristine Indian Ocean waters, guarded by sturdy rocks and adamant corals, the settlement sits protected, flanked by ever-ready bastions, with some of its earlier cannons still in position, mouths pointing towards the open seas.  

Strong as it is outside, however, the inside offers lots of things tender: nice, friendly locals, succulent food, humble music, distant chatters, shy businesses, works-in-progress, and how gentle nature can be in treating centuries-old buildings. 

Imagine finding yourself wrapped in a blanket offering you warmth in the middle of the night, making you feel shielded against whatever opposing elements: coldness, monsters, darkness. Galle was generous enough to lend that feeling. 

Galle tickled me — reminded me of something so distant; the smell of the pavements, frangipani trees, cookings from the windows, all tried to lead me to something familiar.

I didn't find any exact answer, anyhow — not that I had too. But to see how design can celebrate a lot of things in life, and how life can celebrate design so much, I thought, what is this rewarding feeling?

Seven Years Later

Matters to arrive at: fresh, new shores, and ultimate decisions.

The waves of the Indian Ocean came splashing on the shores of Galle Face Green, the main public space of Sri Lanka's biggest city, Colombo, as the sun sets upon the city's weekend revellers, January 27, 2013.

I'm just going to break the rather demeaning silence of this space by pointing out the ultimate, reiterated cliché: we are indeed at a crossroads. I, am at a crossroads. I made it a point to calm down, nevertheless, digesting anxiously the situation, and later arriving at one conclusion: this crossroads is understandable, though I would choose to believe I'm still trying to pull myself together in doing so. 

Graduation, which still tends to inject itself the flavour of being recent, is easily a year or two in the past. The recollection of the rather romanticised days of studies (read: oh, how it was easier back then!) now even has ceased to be prolonged. It's all about the real deal, now. Fast entering February, with the election season fierily lurking around the corner forever waiting to be announced, I found myself still pondering on the most important personal decisions I have required myself to make — the result of some form of procrastination I'm never proud of. 

However stretched the pondering is, I am surrendering my guts to the better step of consolidating whatever that I am working on right now by collecting the best out of my content, and context; instead of, well, running berserk in panic, for instance, which I duly believe won't do anyone justice. 

It is only kinder should I let myself humble before the might of progress (and the idea of being progressive itself), forgive myself in the ever-smoother flow of acknowledging the seedier prospects of collaborating, and offered myself the more subtle reaches of idea-nurturing in shared thoughts. The opportunities are just enriching.

Seven years after the initial design of this space, a vessel propelling towards the better, I guess, could be ever-relevant.

Consoling my stalling worries in decision-making, nonetheless, is by having shared the joy in anticipating how thriving my peers are in making it in the areas their passionate about nowadays. It is just colourful.

Saying this while thinking about those in the creative industry almost exclusively — from architecture, to creative imaging, to fashion, to product design, you would to argue that the range is a tad endless — I would say the same of those performing in the realms of finance and accountancy, legal and medical, engineering and services, among many: their already sterling hard work in their respective fields are deserving respect.

Then, the ultimatum: we could go about living our lives to our self-definition of content, but not without acknowledging our larger, yet immediate context — in this case, our beloved Malaysia, whom we know today is inarguably reaching her most critical of points in her still long narrative. I strongly believe that we can't go about arriving at our personal decisions today without actually embracing this greater sphere, a sphere consisting a society at its most needy of care and attention from its most important layer: the members.

It is indeed a time never more crucial to arrive at decisions both for yourself and, at the risk of sounding exaggerative, the nation. But the wave of the reality, however sweet or however painful, has indeed washed over my feet, and yours. And it is only a fleeting matter of time until our chances get washed away with the receding tide.

Rumor has it, that it is time to decide — certainly, I hope, for the better.

4:59

The odds, the odds.

Refreshed

I thank you, citizens of the world. Thank you for your inspiring stories.

Being simple is so beautiful.

Bracket Z

With that rain going away, it is now time to breath fresh air.

Now.

Gold

It's my graduation, earlier today.

Later tonight, I had my Flickr account reactivated, and thus stumbled upon old photos, mostly dating from the year 2007 up til 2009.

It's 2011, now. All that I came out from my mouth as I went through the photos was just, wow.

We have come a long way. A way so long, even three years ago seem so far away. So many changes have happened, so many paths took different destinations. For many of us in those photographs, it's a new life now, with a new beginning. In the midst of the angst, we're hopeful.

I miss those moments. And, let's move on.

Congratulations, friends.

XVI

Just one of the nights that I feel distant.

Why is it so hard to come out with a full set of writing, nowadays? Or is this full enough?