Rosewithoutthorns – Happy 4 years old!

It’s been 4 years since I started this site, now a haven for me to pen my thoughts and explore my sentiments. Blogging, as empty as it had seemed when it first became a habit, is now a theraphy, and also a record of my life and personal growth.

Once in a while I get nostalgic, and as the business and noise of life crams out the space to think quietly, I look back into my journal of thoughts, random words, beautiful poems, and deep prose that I wrote before. Sometimes I amaze myself, because reading previous entries from years ago reminds me of the person I was before becoming another, and then another. Although I’ve always essentially been the same person, there are particular phases in life that can be recorded and segregated, and even more clearly now that there are dated posts describing the bare details of my life.

I make it a habit not to write down too many intimate details that the Internet and its ingeneous search engines like Google and Yahoo like to freely and randomly distribute to its users. I tend to type in a half-code that only those in the situation and discerning enough will be able to understand, if they even have access to this site. Still, having my thoughts coded, I remember exactly what I felt when I was writing them as I read the posts line by line and drink in the words bit for bit.

In a way, this blog is a pretty strong definition of my life, my habits, my ideas and my dreams. Words may not express everything I feel, but I try to put them in black and white the things that I experience and treasure. Writing has always been a cure for the insanity of life, for the emptiness of repetition, and for the lack of a deeper world. It has always allowed me to truly reflect and ponder, almost the only time when I search inside myself and display my heartbeat without being obliged to demonstrate some other.

Every few months I take a peak back and review my life written on a website by me, about me. Everytime, I realize the importance and significance it has for me. What a journey, and it will continue. Happy 4 yrs!

Depto searching

Last weekend and this week so far has been spent mainly on searching for an apartment (or “departamentos” in Spanish, and “depto” for short). House shopping as you may call it; a place to live, something between 40-50 square metres of space, preferably in a new tower (or condominium if you like) with ammenities and something within the budget.

Now that I’ve seen a couple of places, I’m starting to have an idea of what specific things to look out for and how not to be just simply impressed by the fact that an apartment has a nice big balcony – since perhaps a 12 square metres balcony would take up alot of precious space in a 53 sqaure metres apartment. There are many factors involved in searching for an apartment; first of all, the location, somewhere accessible near the Subte station and with buses that take you downtown, not just around the neighbourhood. It must also be located in a relatively safe neighbourhood, not one which is well-known for gangsters, robberies and other crimes. Then, whether you like it old or new – some prefer the older buildings because the apartments come with alot more space for a lot less money. Others would rather live in a smaller one-room apartment but have the convenience of a common room, a gym, and a swimming pool right at your doorstep.

Next, you have to pay attention to the structure of the house – Yes, square metres count but do is the space utilized efficiently? Is the overall shape of the apartment a square, a rectangle, or U-shaped? Where is the kitchen located? Is it situated near a door or window that will allow easy ventilation? Is the kitchen long or compressed in one corder? How many places are there for you to cook? Is there a door or wall separating the kitchen from the living room and most importantly from the bedroom? Remember that in a small apartment, the smells from your tiny kitchen can well up in the whole house and make it quite unpleasant especially if your bedroom has no division. What about the essential electrical appliances – is the refridgerator and the over provided? Is there a space for the washing machine in the house? Or do you have to replace the bidet for the washing machine?

How about the living room? Where is the window at, if there is any at all? How do the windows work – can they be opened sideways as well as at the top to allow ventilation during winter? Where the blank wall where a television can be mounted? How should the sofa be put? What about the dining table as well? Is there a balcony for you to sit at and sip some wine, or just to sit outside and get some fresh air and sun, and a place to hang your clothes? What material is the floor made of – is it wood or just plastic made to resemble wood? Is the price of the floor already included in the total price of the apartment?

What about security – if it’s an older building, does it have a porter for security? Whether it is old or new, how is the maintenance of the place upkept? How much are the monthly expenses to maintain the building? Is it calculated by a certain amount per square metre? What about the money you need to pay for a parking lot? Also, how does the apartment make you feel? Do you feel a sense of peace and quietness when you enter the building? Is it on a relatively safe and calm street, not right next to a neighbourhood secondary school where you have to hear kids screaming and shouting the whole day? Does it feel open and free, or small and cosy but a little suffocating? Is the hallway brightly lit? Is the corridor narrow with all the neighbours having to squeeze together while waiting at the lift lobby?

So many things to take into consideration – but also quite fun, because ultimately the apartment has to be a place you want to come home to – as with any home. Gonna be on the hunt for quite a while! Updates to come when there are any!

Sunbeams and hailstones

Hola!

Arrived around 4 pm Buenos Aires time yesterday, greeted by extremely welcoming sunshine and a nice warm temperature of about 26 degrees, not too different from the first time I visited. But as the afternoon progressed into evening, the sunshine gave way to rain accompanied by hailstones as large as eggs. Many cars had their back screens damaged from the rocks of ice pouring down from the sky – a phenomenon I witnessed for the first time in my life. I didnt believe it was hailstones until Juan picked up a piece of ice and put it in my hands – seeing really is believing.

This morning news reports of heavy fog and queues of cars waiting to be repaired from their war with the sudden hailstones reminded me of the happenings of the night before. But looking out of the window now, 24 hours after I arrived in the land of tango, it’s hard to believe it even drizzled, much less rained with such a furious tenacity. Now, the sky is blue dotted with little cotton pads of clouds, the sun is out again, highlighting the pretty green in the leaves outside the balcony, and the botanic gardens is full of life again. It is autumn and there are another 2 months before I will experience winter, not one of my favourite seasons in the world.

But so far, one day and it’s all good. I’m happy here. Packed 52 kg of checked in luggage and another 5 kg of hand carry – but I still forgot to bring certain things – like my USB cable to upload photos from my camera. Getting my mum to snail mail it over which should take 2 weeks the most, but other than that, I think I have all that I need right now..!

No photos till I receive the cable i guess. But in the meanwhile, I’ll continue to post from here. Buen dia!

Every turn a surprise

My favourite disney movie has always been Aladdin, and I’d always loved Princess Jasmine. Such apt and beautiful lyrics.

:: A Whole New World ::

I can show you the world
Shining, shimmering, splendid
Tell me, princess, now when did
You last let your heart decide?

I can open your eyes
Take you wonder by wonder
Over, sideways and under
On a magic carpet ride

A whole new world
A new fantastic point of view
No one to tell us no
Or where to go
Or say we’re only dreaming

A whole new world
A dazzling place I never knew
But when I’m way up here
It’s crystal clear
That now I’m in a whole new world with you
Now I’m in a whole new world with you

Unbelievable sights
Indescribable feeling
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling
Through an endless diamond sky

A whole new world
Don’t you dare close your eyes
A hundred thousand things to see
Hold your breath – it gets better
I’m like a shooting star
I’ve come so far
I can’t go back to where I used to be

A whole new world
Every turn a surprise
With new horizons to pursue
Every moment red-letter
I’ll chase them anywhere
There’s time to spare
Let me share this whole new world with you

A whole new world
That’s where we’ll be
A thrilling chase
A wondrous place
For you and me

Christmas is coming, and I want..

I want to travel.
I want to see Europe again, free of worries, smelling the sweet fresh air of hope, promise, joy.
I want to walk on the streets of Barcelona, waltz down LasRamblas as I take in all the sights, the tourists just like me, and hop from tapas bar to shot bar to crazy club.
I want to stay in the large carefree apartments with the beautiful tiles from the past.
I want to walk in the cobbled streets that lead into alleys full of quirky shops.

I want to feel the sun beating down on my Venetian straw hat, as I pose for the photo by the rivers that make Venice so beautiful.
I want the colors of Cinque Terre imprinted always in my memories.
I want to lie on the stony beach, shades on with the breeze in my face, barefoot in the sand.
I want to sit facing the view of the sea, which takes my breath away, as I smell the sweetness of the seafood pasta blowing in my face.
I want to walk in just the two-piece, salt in my hair, camera in hand, with eyes crinkling and spilling with joy.

I want to walk in the Asian supermarket and smell the familiar mixes of soya sauces, onions and garlic, in the dimly-lit corner shop.
I want to be queuing at the Durum Doner shop at 3 am after clubbing at Zapattos, stomach growling in anticipation of the yummy treat ahead.
I want to skip into Lidel with a shopping cart empty and come out laden with shopping bags.
I want to amble around the Weinachtmarkts and beathe in the heavenly gluhwein, cheeks cold from the winter air, dreaming of Christmas.

I want to look at things in wonder, amazement, new and fresh in my mind.
I want to hear a different language, peek at the laughter in their eyes, the life and passion in their steps as they skip and sit on the grass, full of the sun’s shining rays.
I want to feel the autonomy and independence and security.
Yet I also want my family to feel this lightness, this flight of peace.

We’re so fortunate to be able to travel the world, where each country sings of love and romance and brilliant happiness.
The light in her eyes captured in an instant, because she found love, and a passion unleashed.
I have friends all around the world, gone to pursue their dreams, their loves, a life different from that which they were born into.
Finally one of them is coming back, and I can’t believe how fast the year has passed.

To never forget

“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never, to forget.”
-Arundhati Roy

One of the signature quotes at the end of email messages, one of the quotes that always stun me in an absolutely refreshing way.

It is so easy to become immune to the violence and distress that once so thoroughly disturbed us during our daily news reading. It is so easy to frown and wrinkle our noses in disgust at the dirt-filled rat-infested conditions which the beggars live in, and then to walk on buy into the comfort of the five-star hotel, and out of sight, the poverty temporarily goes out of mind. It is so difficult to imagine and witness the pure joy on the faces of the little ones who spend their whole days playing with a simple ball, a game we take for granted, a game we are bored with, and it strikes us so hard to see these young children with more joy than us with all our expensive ostentatious goods. It is increasingly hard to appreciate beauty in what we do and have, when we have become shaped to complain without batting an eyelid, and to shout at what is not going well. We have became what we eat, and in this world of fast food, fast service, we have lost our patience for even the simplest things, we do not see anymore than we do not get nourished. It shocks us to see a woman with cancer encouraging her loved ones not to be upset, when really it should have been the other way round. We have become so accustomed to the grind of life which tells us money and status rule the world, that people high up on their pedestals should be treated like gods while poor people and those junior staff should be disregarded, ill-respected and not worthy of our time. We forget that sometimes certain things are just as they seem, and we spend precious amounts of time complicating two-dimensional matters when we should be spending more time solving and analyzing the world we live in. We become masks of insecurity mingling at events for the sake of networking, when actually we just want to spend some solitary time to gather our thoughts. What are we rushing to, where are we colliding headlong into? Why do we look away from that which is not pretty, nice or even just normal? Why do we forget so soon the things which have taken place? Why are we shocked when things which have been building up ages suddenly happen? What do we need before we can remember?

My sky and yours together

Have you ever felt that you missed some people so much, you felt your heart wasn’t with you, but with them, in some far off corner of the world?

I want to be somewhere else, living a different life, knowing I am with the person that I love, away from separation. Maybe I have never felt happy living a boring but secured life, stable yet lacking in passion, doing what is expected all the time. The longing to live out a dream, soaking in brilliant bubbles of happiness and joy, has constantly been my companion for as long as I can remember.

I want to be where the people laugh and live with every molecule of their beings. I yearn for a life, where like a drawing board I can start from scratch, creating the design of my life the exact way i like it. To be able to make a dashboard of all the elements that I want to keep, and throw away those that I abhore.

I imagine building a life with beauty, a deep sense of belonging, a knowledge of belief, faith and trust. Where people burst into song and dance, where love enshrouds everything. Where practicality doesnt even register in the first few priorities; and worries of the future are but just dots in the sky.

Growing up through the years, I’ve seen birthdays and anniversaries, weddings and friendships blossoming. And among all of these, I wonder how many are but just customary, and how many else are blooming out of true radiant joy.

I want to live in a world, where my sky combines with yours, where the sun never sets, the rays of delirious sunlight stay like crystals protecting us, where my day is yours as well. I want to build a life with you, a paint the picture both of us are in, walking hand in hand. I want to hear the birds chirping instead of cars zooming by; I want to see rivers and lakes and swimming fish, instead of neatly printed roads and factory buidings. I want to be finally at home…and home is where the heart is.

Purchase delivered: Experience

There are conversations that linger in your mind for a while after the speakers have returned to their daily lives, and recently these conversations have been resonating with the same frequency and heartbeat of my questions to life.

In the last month or so, I have been either the initiator or participator of engaging discussions whose individual impacts on me have transformed into compounding and increasingly urgent needs for me to know why I am where and what I am. I used to think when reminiscing on old times and looking at time-stained photographs, that we tend to believe that each instance in our lives are the best that our lives are, up till then. But frequent and subsequent contemplations of this theory convinced me that is not true. Many encounters with peers and elders alike have showed me that many are not happy where they are; perhaps they had made a wrong choice some point in time and unwittingly suffered the consequences of their actions. Or perhaps they simply chose not to reach for what they wanted, and as a result paid for it with an unsatisfactory existence.

Jonny Jr mentioned the fact that humans are intrinsically beings who need freedom of choice (amongst others in the Maslow’s hierarchy of needs); and it is often the limitations that are already in place that constrain our spectrum of choices, frustrating those whose lot in life determines they be the unfortunate few with restricted choice.

Another friend commented, on a totally separate occasion, that given limited resources, particularly resources called time and money; we should use them to attain things with the most lasting utility. Material possessions have the ability to make us incredibly happy and proud; for just one moment, before shoving us into the spiral of unending covetousness. I understood this the moment I started working and earning my own keep; suddenly every bag looks like it needs to be adopted by you; each watch seems to tick and coax you hypnotically to pick it up, and once you do so, you find something else that calls out to you. There’s an unending stream of utility in buying material goods; with the fine print that you also need an unending stream of finances. It seems that given the limited time and health that we have, a generally agreed purchase which would provide energizer-battery-style long-lasting utility is, and always will be, experience.

If at any point in life, you are the sum of all your past experiences, then shouldn’t we make a conscious effort to increase the experiences that we have all the time? The lasting impact every scenario life places us with usually makes up a piece of the puzzle we are trying to fix. But at the same time, we do not buy our paths in life off the shelves as we would a jigsaw puzzle in Toys ‘R Us. Our puzzle in life is akin to a painting yet unfinished; and each decision we make results in the coloring of that little piece of the ultimate picture that is unraveled to us in tantalizing candy bits and pieces. And the more we choose to value experience over the mere attaining of a goal while dreading the journey, the more texture, vibrancy and hues our paintings will exude.

And so, let me finish my sales pitch. Buy experience; but never, never at a discount.

The European continental story.

As often as the mind wanders to a time past and memories cased in silver, the heart stumbles upon the road winding into the garden of life, love and beauty. The frosty winter night, waiting for the tram to bring them home; the lights twinkling in the chilly dark, the jingling of the bells announcing the arrival of Christmas, they hold the keys to her heart. Gluhwein in the sunny afternoon, next to the church on the street bursting with life; the river enshrouded in the season’s mist, the cobbled streets, strong and sturdy under their feet.

So many events, so many friends, through chance encounters or similar timetables, sitting on the bus ride home, chatting, bonding, breaking the ice between the massive differences in cultures. The route to school was always new, each day bore forth a separate adventure, a different path, a unique encounter. It was the summer’s end which began the story, the scorching sun on the grand schloss’ windows. The first glimpse of Mannheim, the flowers singing in their pretty blooming heads, it was hope, and a journey whose twists were anticipated, and savored.

Bags packed and doors opened, train tickets and the travelers sauntered, into the voyage they dreamed up of; through nights and days of endless planning. Finally, the earth seemed ready, for their exploration and eager souls. The sculptures, the great stone structures, next to carefree artists; yet again spilling their love of art from the magnificent sunset onto canvas. The ancient bridge, sturdy as a rock; and there they sat, glued, to the glory of nature’s masterpiece. Rivers and canals and squares and quaint shops, they dotted the self-explored map of their adventures. The mountains and landscapes unraveled the lost history from where Mozart was birthed. It was a stunning beginning; a blindingly magnetic draw, to continue in the continent which separated two ends of the earth.

Settling down in a town now home, for months to come; the classes began, a system different yet strangely familiar. It was their first time away from home so long, so brilliant and beaming with dreams and experience. You take some time to adjust they always say, but once you have, and have found their little nook and cranny in the mould of your heart, you feel less homesick and more alive. That summer ended; and autumn took its place on stage, a gorgeous rehearsal of auburn reds and rose-burn shades. Leaves which lined the pathways and cascaded in the smooth cool breeze, landed on the ground, tracing the doorways of their hearts. Friendships blossomed and reciprocated acts of kindness brought forth the surge of confidence to do what they would never have done before. A walk by the sea in Lisbon, city of seven hills, and trudging in the sunshine. It was time of indulgence and feeling the vibes of wherever they were.

It was the winter, however, whose early chill and soon-settled nights made them more aware of life and love, of desires and longing, of a need to be met. Sitting at the stairwell, the night of the party itself, fears dissolved and will suddenly so strong, it took just that moment, after endless persuasion, to make one crucial decision. Just days before a temporary separation, that not known then, but it was a decision to stake it all and feel, the need to love and chance, to try and dare without looking back. Fighting back all tears and fears, it was in another city, where having been etched in their hearts as the seabed of their bittersweet memories, where an exchange of pieces of their different lives was made.

A jigsaw puzzle pieced carefully together, a beautiful picture, stunning and finally completed.

Gold trimmings on the leather bound book

Bits and pieces of me all around the world; residing where my close friends and loved ones are. The world feels so much smaller now than when I was little, maybe because I desperately wish it would be. All around the globe I have people to whom bits of my heart have been given to, a gift for them to keep and take care.

Sometimes I sit at the bus-stop thinking back on times past, of memories gold, and friends of old, who I love so much. Somehow the friends who you unexpectedly find like a treasured book in a second hand book store turn up at the doorstep of your life one day and by some random order, you establish a bond with them. A bond which you would never have made with the next-door neighbour, the classmate who you see everyday, or even family. And somehow, the similarly random order throws by some odd nature of life, chances for these jems to soar the world and achieve their dreams and aspirations, in work, in life, in love. And just a quickly as the precious encounter that allowed that friendship to develop and bloom chanced upon you, an equally unexpected turn of events leaves you finding that the people you love so much are suddenly so far away.

Yet it gladdens my heart very much, to find that despite the distance and physical separation, these friendships and relationships remain, still shining regardless of time and different lives. Sometimes our workloads and busy schedules keep us from writing and skyping as much as we would like to, but each time we talk, I know that friendships dear to me matter as much to them as well. Auburn leaves started a bond that began in autumn, the season whose colours always remind me of friendship and being found. Christmas markets and the walk in the winter’s cold make me smile wistfully, at advice given and taken, and a genuine listening ear. Sitting at the desk learning another language from scratch and using hand gestures to get my point across, yes that was a chance to understand and be understood, teacher and student to friends. Dinner after work on an impromtu desire to meet up, sales sourcing for favourite brands, and make up lessons, they remind me of so many wonderful moments. Dancing across a frozen lake, chasing in the wind, hearing the children laugh and play, that reminds me of you.

The most beautiful thing about these, arent that they make great memories, but that on top of being so, they are still very much alive and remain, shining and true, like gold trimmings on the leather bound book.