I think I may have fallen under the spell of John Mayer…I can see why Elyna and Aisya are fans. He’s like the male version of Norah Jones, in a way. Cooing voices that make you melt…perfect drive tracks, especially if you’re winding down a mountain hill. I’m listening to Back To You, by the way.
I’ve just read in the newspapers that Mel C (the former Sporty Spice) is a fan of the Mighty Reds. Who would’ve thought? And she was my favourite back in the hey-days of when the name ‘Spice Girls’ evoked expressions of admiration rather than embarassment in today’s time.
Oh, I am sooooo happy at this moment. When I was 12, I wrote my first poem and in the course of time, somehow that poem got lost and I was really upset that I could have been so careless to not have compiled my personal collections. Its a small collection, but only because I can’t spew out good stuff, and the things that I do write, I’m deeply attached with. What lacks in quantity, is made up in quality, at least to me. Significant milestones deserve a poem each.
Anyway, I finally remembered it in yesterday’s Worldview class. Alright, guilty as charged. I didn’t pay much attention because I couldn’t risk forgetting again. I wrote this poem in class some time after UPSR in 1998, and I wrote it with a story in mind:
There is a lonely orphan child, living in a shelter where he is ostracised by others for his quiet ways. In his solitude and desperation, he yearningly writes a letter to the world, which he lets the wind play postman and carry away. One day, a stranger finds the letter blowing about, and reads it…so the letter is actually the poem. It’s called An Orphan’s Sorrow. I am SO going to guard this.
Anyway, that aside.
The reason for the title of my entry is really about change, and what that does to us. No doubt, change can sometimes be a good thing, like a hijrah from something bad to something good, and from something good to something better, and from something better to the best that you can be. But sometimes though…change can be painful…especially when there isn’t any way of going back.
"Forever is a long time, and Time has a way of changing things…"
So quoted Big Mama in The Fox and The Hound. I particularly remembered those words when I first watched it. That was what? 7 years ago? Words like these stick.
I guess the whole point of this is how I came back this weekend, and realised how fast my siblings and I are growing up, and how rapidly things are changing. You won’t realise it til you stop and ponder about Then and Now. We all have our own characteristics and personalities that seem to be getting more distinct and defined and different. The beauty of it all is that we share the values our parents have taught us. Unity through diversity. =)
I’ve been spending the last few days reminiscing, mostly.
First, with my youngest brother, who doesn’t yet mind me snuggling next to him at night and telling him bedtime stories, if not of the Holy Prophet, then of crazy far-fetched tales of a Hero who rescues the world one too many times, is a banana and is the sole child of 2 very proud bears. Lol. I Like the fact that I can still make him laugh, and that he can still make me give him a big hug for the teddy bear that he is, and that when I come home, he still runs to me. It seems as though times like these will never end.
Second, with my sister whom though I share most of my disagreements with, is still my sister. By blood, we are bound. We are as different as night and day. We consider different things important, and one too many times have I heard my aunts saying how she’s the stylish one while I’m more simple. There have been times when I accuse her of being shallow, while she accuses me of being too serious. She cares about what people think…and frankly I just really don’t give a damn most times. Squabbles, bickers and catfights aside, it doesn’t take away the fact that I know exactly what’s on her mind, that I know what it is that makes her tick, that she tells me how much it scares her that I know her through and through, better than anyone else. It doesn’t take away the fact that she’s my fashion consultant if I particularly want to look nice, that she makes an effort every birthday to get me something I actually want (by asking me innocently a month before, which of course doesn’t work since I can read her mind), that she is who she is and isn’t afraid to admit it. It seems as though times like these will never end.
And finally, my brother. Undoubtedly, my closest sibling. Being only a year younger, we were the dynamic duo before my sister came along. Really and honestly speaking, he’s the only one who knows me to the core. I like the fact that being young, we were left in conditions that required us to stick together and work as a team. I like the fact that we truly looked out for each other, and still do, although now it’s more restrained since we both have our own lives now, that isn’t as intertwined as in the past. I like the fact that we now have our own worlds, but we can still visit the Inbetween, a world that we shared when we were 2 rascals running amok, our world. I like the fact that he hasn’t shut me out, and that we can talk for ages at 3am and laugh our butts off at jokes only we would understand. I like the fact that we can both talk about football and F1 passionately, watch games together to cheer or jeer, and walk past each other and just slap hands for no reason, or change expressions of understanding over the dinner table and snicker or roll our eyes. I like the fact that I can kick his @$$ in NFS3 or Burnout3 at times, and I’ll be yelling ‘in your face’ and be dancing about, while he looks on incredulously. I like the fact that you can stand in front of our bedrooms, and hear classical music coming from one room while his is blaring rock music, which shows how close and yet far apart we are. I like the long drives that we take to just talk, and that he helps me out no matter what. I like the fact that we both have our expertises, and that he refers to me for English texts while I refer to him for technologically-advanced gadgets. I like the fact that I can tell him anything and everything, and that he still trusts me. What I like most, is the fact that he now respects me as a becoming woman, and that I can now accept that he is now his own person, and doesn’t need me to protect him all the time. It seems as though times like these will never end.
Times like these, time and time again, will come to an end one day. Acceptance will be difficult.
Enough said here.
