Of Love

It was the strangest of feelings. One that I could not pinpoint to a particular cause much less understand it entirely. But it certainly troubled me greatly. And I felt pretty much dumb through it all. As if I was like a little child growing up and struggling to deal with the complexity of emotions as he sees the world through maturing eyes, his heart racing fully ahead, yet his mind having yet to catch up. I was facing with very odd feelings and what a shame I must have been, to be so old, yet so clueless.

Odd, would be a very apt word to sum up everything. From an ever shaky perception to my apparent naivety toward something so foreign. But Odd, is perhaps why I found myself sitting quietly in the corner of the aisle - a good quarter of an hour before the furor of activity flooded the place - praying. I was at a breaking point and all I could do was to surrender. The next few moments saw neither explanation nor justification, but a simple, yet divine comfort that embraced my soul. I shifted my weight toward my right as if leaning against a body that found form in the physical. A weightedness lifted as I kept my eyes closed and forgot everything that was around. All became still, and that very moment never felt more timeless, more beautiful, more divine.

Like a little glimpse through a hole was what I saw of the horizon before reality came pouring back in with full force. The quiet sanctuary departed, but not without promise of something much greater. The session of worship later saw a broken me, desperately seeking to find the presence of God once again. And the yearning was impossible great and greatly insatiable.

This strange feeling I slowly discovered, was nothing but a jealous heart ranging violently within because of a wondering mind's lack of focus on the heart's very desire. A desire that pervaded the very conciseness of my being. And I found myself falling ever so deeply into an immensely new measure, of love.

Let abundant love pour out,
Love of God, become my calling.

The last few months

A pathway found
A journey lost

And through it all,
I find myself

Floating, in an endless sea
of the conscious

So take me back to wonder
to a Love given without regret.

A New Year

Lets talk about the day spent at Universal Studios.

We went early as can be. Late of course by strict promise standards, but still earlier than the time of which the gates could open. And always in time for a quick breakfast. Very much like the preparation one takes before diving full force into a new start, but preparedness can never be perfect and one can never be fully prepared, but we give our best.

And diving in full force we did, because the insanely unforgiving flight of twist and turns was our maiden ride. The Cylon, or the blue roller coaster as we called it, lived out its legacy. It was intense and full of every imaginable ingenuity that makes your heart pump a hundred times faster with your pupils dilating with increasing ferocity at each swing of the uncompromising track.

Yet, despite all the rush in that two short minutes, time seemed to bend and stretch pass its chronological length. It was within those few moments did time seem to slow down for a fleeting second and in that very moment, your very position was revealed with unimaginable clarity. I was flying far above the park, overlooking the entire cityscape across the distance. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and I wondered why I have never seen it in such light before.

And as quick as the moment came, it left to give way to a fog of mist that clouded your vision through a drop that felt like forever.

I wouldn't say it was deliriously frightening but it certainly was an experience that demanded your entire being. I left the ride walking a little bit wonky, but this first victory gave me the adrenaline for all the rides that followed in the day. I knew that with all my fear of heights, I conquered the craziest, and that assurance gave me the quiet confidence to brave the rest. It was with the lack of fear that the joy of each ride was made so much sweeter and the day at the park a complete delight.

Let that be the start of my new year, with God.

The Love of God

There are a thousand different ways to express one’s emotions. Yet none could be better than doing it in a way that’s completely comfortable and comfortably personal.

So I sit here and write.

One of the most liberating moments for me is when I begin to recall of specific moments and instances in my little library of memories. I’d pull out a book and flip its dusty pages, crumbling with the sands of time and lightly inked with the illustration and words once forgotten.

The moment is one of worship. The page still freshly printed.

The auditorium had a certain quiet and calm. It has been a couple of minutes now and the heart of the song has slowly set in. The state of mind seemed rather unexplainable, indescribably perhaps. As if words alone have acknowledged in their failure to paint the image of what they saw. Vocabulary that felt seemingly inexhaustible suddenly ran short of breath and like a fainting spell that pierces in slow, forcing a new dimension of reality to be revealed. An epiphany into a completely new world, but that, only for a fleeting moment; a moment that shifts its weight like a wave, all around a state of consciousness and drifts just far enough before one loses it completely.

Yet there is this one girl that had seen it all.

She sat quietly at the foot of her seat. Her eyes closed with an equal amount of pain and comfort weaved together like the crossings of the finest linen. There was a certain disposition about the slight expression she harboured on her lips. It was neither placid not emancipating with joy, but a reflection of an impossible clarity of the situation that stood before her. Her heart was in complete surrender and her mind at absolut rest.

It wouldn’t have demand any attention at all, such a subtle contrite. Yet if one were to only focus a little longer than a few moments, something immensely alluring starts to kick in. It was not the posture, the music nor the combination of the two. It was something more, something deeply imperious yet benevolent at the very same time. There was a glow that pervaded the very physics of the visual sight piercing completely through a person’s eyes and deep into his or her soul. And arrests all that is within. Her story was a painful one, yet one that was made painfully beautiful in the many days that followed.

The experience of such love if explained any further would only be an injustice if not encountered. Such is the love that promises and guards, that makes nothing out of selfish ambition but esteems and assures even the dreariest of souls with a grace uncompromising and unending. Such a love is one that always chooses to persevere and hold on till the very end.

Such is the love of a very dear one I call God.

Out across the aimless sea.

I feel like an island far far away.

Maybe I'm in search for something I've taken for granted and something I've always avoided.

I guess some perspectives need to be changed and some effort taken.

Maybe then my summer won't disappear.

But stay as long like it should, as it should.

Recapping the Summer

And so the last three months flew by and school's starting again.

But one thing that proved most valuable to me was this one holiday I had. A holiday so different from any I've ever had, one that took me to beaches of Bali, to an incredible party with the greatest of company before cumulating at the breath-taking resorts of Bintan.

Bali.

I was told the sunrise at Nusadua was something of a charm and I shouldn't miss it for the world, even if that world of mine meant everything of sleep. Its description was perfect. The orange sky chasing away the dark of the night to give way to a morning splendor as the sun breathed life to cold beach, illuminating an endless horizon with a radiant glow. The daily miracle I'm afraid, would only remain but an elusive mystery to me as we missed all 3 days of its glory. We even missed the sunset.

But for the loss of such beauty, the long dinner nights made them up in full. Our last night saw us seated in the loveliest of settings while a duo on a square stage played to the tunes of slow rock. We sang along, laughed and chilled as the music filled the place. And when the night reached into a full, the closing song had two couples slow dance to its tune as we watched in quiet, the sweetness of such loving embrace. There and then, the trip was made perfect.

Singapore.

My Twenty First was nothing short of splendid. Not so much because of anything else as it were for the people who graced it. As though it was a paradox itself, the masquerade party was never a more intimate one I've had of a birthday since time in memorial. And never had I the privilege of having all the people I love gather together in a single place. It was beyond anything I could ask for; a dinner party, with the people I love.

Bintan.

The short family retreat was a real retreat from everything. I could simply be myself, completely. The walk to the long stretch of white beach proved more nostalgic than refreshing though I've never set foot to Bintan Island before. Yet the jetty that extended far into the waters from the pristine shore reminded me strangely of story I had come across in primary school. I snapped a few shots from a dying camera and spent the next day, crazy as it was, on a golfing course as my parents rushed to not hog the many others behind. We had a lot of fun rushing through a very slow game.

The night sky was an astronomic feast of the starry universe and I loved the quiet and tranquility of dinner by the beach. I was reminded over and over again the splendor of a God so big as I stared into an endless night sky laid with diamonds that tinkered from one end of the universe to another.

Its probably strange to have classified the life a vacation that spanned three islands over 3 separate time periods into a single term, but I thought otherwise. While the many others spent a great deal of their summer doing everything they wanted and liked, mine perhaps started only when the seasons of time had allowed of a short absence from work.

Nonetheless, I thank God and cherished every waking moment when those precious getaways sessioned. I've had my holiday and I'm glad I've had it in full.

Life & Liberty

There were a ton of things I wanted to write in the last month but I think I'll settle for this.

The moment at Stevos.

It was the last time our class gathered as a whole for something other than lessons. It was our 'G5's Over It' dinner, the second time we've had it after the western art history exam, sort of like a tradition. We were not the most bonded group of people, but each of us had a special appreciation of each other and as a whole. I guess thats why the effort to come for this was exceptional. The turnout was higher than any class attendance record we've had for any class all semester, which was queerly laudable, but we all knew why.

We sat among two split tables at the restaurant's quaint side alley. It had character, the warm lights that bathed the tables and painted the surrounding decor in a chummy feel, coupled with an odd audio mixup had quietly charmed us from the madly humid night air. Maybe it was the company. I would stare up into the high walls and watch the laser lights dance to a hypnotic pattern every once in a while as I listened on the conversations. Like the little laser show, the topics of talk were all so predictable, yet it was completely impossible to know what the next sentence was or who it'll come from. And we always do have that innate ability to surprise and bring life to the weirdest of conversations. Its alluring, I must say, to listen to any of the things we talk about. We'd laugh and shout in disbelief at the things being said and yet at times, almost immediately go into a quiet reflection at some serious issues.

Not all of us are funny, but I've learn to see that everyone has a little gem in their character that I've grown deeply appreciative of. We started out as complete strangers to each other, sizing up and judging on first sight. Some quiet, some intimidating and some pretty bizarre. Slowly, we got to know and understand the uniqueness of each other. But therein lay a strange synergy that made the first year so tolerable and at times ridiculously fun, which apparently was quintessential of the class. That's probably why I find the mix of people in my class a most interesting one.

For that, we toasted to our having survived Year One. And of course a smaller side toast to our two dear casualties. One, we've lost hope and forgotten, the other we wished all the best for her amazing next four years in St. Martins. A dream we all wished to have had. Its been a lovely first year with a most lovely group of people. And I will miss them very dearly.