The NSFs from my intake probably all feel it by now.
We have finished all our training. We have been through the worst phases of what our vocation can afford to offer us. We have been in where we are posted to long enough, and by now, we know our stuff-

ORD is coming :P

But well, not yet. This odd phase of almost reaching it allows much thinking.


I can look back and think about many mistakes in my life, but I think one of the best moves I made in my life, is having built solid friendships with a few close brothers. This bunch who I can go beyond a label of "best friends", who will always exist more than a photo to be posted as a facebook profile picture and who are there.


Something I actually can say I did right in life. Heh. Thank God :)

Labels: Life, muse, NS

Sometimes writers are praised to be good writers because they can capture the essence of an emotion which has not been given any name.

I have much appreciation for greater minds who can craft literature beyond a mere philsophical retreat of words being not enough, or just a faint justification of calling it 'mixed feelings'.

One emotion which I believe such a greater mind must address, is the emotion when a person is just next to you but who really is a million miles away.

Such a defeat is faced in varying forms. An old friend who you had shared a past that was less wiser with that you bumped into. A relative who you had always heard about, finally met, and who you struggle to break through formalities and make up for lost years. An important person to you who is pulling away and who makes you wonder over the concious attempts to catch up. A colleague who you work with closely on a daily basis, and find yourself having to discuss work even when it's lunch. A good friend who you know will always be there, but physical proximities insist on having both of you apart. A spouse whom through domestic drudgeries has become a stranger. A grandfather who you had negelcted a proper responsibility to spend time with, who you can only approach now with sheepish awkwardness and a strained awareness that he is getting old.

A strange reality of things is that on those various fronts, such a defeat need not always be painful to us. Sometimes it can be as fleeting as the thought process when you walk pass a begger, rushing towards a next destination. Even if we finally decide that such is painful to us, the remorse or regrets sink in at that moment when you realise it. It can even flood you quite intensely, but that may be the point. Intense moments don't last that long. And even when you do make that instance of connection with that someone because circumstance or divine appointment granted it, the refreshment allows its effect to linger only for so long. After that, it can stay on (arguably, just merely) as a prized moment in memory.

A gym-time conversation with a colleague recently revealed a very simple way to express this emotion. He said,

"Got scolded by my boss really badly la just now."

"Oh. Why?"

"We didn't manage to finish something by the deadline given. It's not anyone's fault really... Not his, not ours. It's just that when you deal with something like time... you know, some things just are not in your control..."

"Time's fault? Haha. I guess you can't say that too."



By the way, he is the most hardworking guy in the department (No, its not something subjective. Everybody agrees that he is.)



"Yup things are always more complicated. Difficult even. Otherwise it wouldn't mean a thing."
- A Friend's text message

Labels: muse

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