Having had a gloomy day, I would not have written this post if not for the two new followers of my blog. Thank you for supporting me in what I do- with a ‘like’ or a ‘follow’. Knowing that someone finds joy in reading what I write, keeps me going.
Most of my days this year and the last, have been spent with me wandering around this cramped city when everything around me looks like an enormous scale model of a city. Singapore has no soul and I feel suffocated in it.
Although I expected to be have started on a full-time course in 2016, I had been unexpectedly met with two big rejections, and I was battling something worse as I struggled to hold onto my faith in God.
Surprisingly, I was incredibly happy with the rejections. It just reminded me of Victors who had found success after countless rejections. I thought of Colonel Sanders and Albert Einstein and just felt the desire to embrace rejection as I continued charging forward.
At age 5, his Father died,” begins the story of Colonel Sanders. “At age 16, he quit school. At age 17, he had already lost four jobs. At age 18, he got married. He joined the army and washed out there. At age 20, his wife left him and took their baby. He became a cook in a small cafe and convinced his wife to return home. At age 65, he retired. He felt like a failure & decided to commit suicide. He sat writing his will, but instead, he wrote what he would have accomplished with his life & thought about how good of a cook he was. So, he borrowed $87 fried up some chicken using his recipe, went door to door to sell. At age 88, Colonel Sanders, founder of Kentucky Fried Chicken (KFC) Empire was a billionaire.”
This year is a new year. My teaching commitments have increased but I’ve attempted to discipline myself in getting serious about my Writing. It’s a struggle though when insecurities slowly creep beside me and I start ranking myself against a scale of writers. I’ve never been the type to rank works of Art. I believe that Art should not be judged. Still, Fear sometimes gets the better of me.
Today, my morning flew by after I gave up finding an ideal cafe to sit at since most places were crowded. The skies were dark and I comfortably settled at home instead, making my own home-cooked lunch, which always beats eating outside in coffeeshops famous for selling greasy food with little or no vegetables.
As I dug into freshly cooked rice, broccoli and carrots, a caramelised onion omelette, sardines and a spiced soup by the side, I completed watching the human version of ’The Jungle Book’. It was fascinating to see the graphics come to life and the friendship blooming amongst the panther, bear and human – an unlikely friendship that survives adversity. Rudyard Kipling did an amazing job with this story.
The afternoon was spent marking and napping as I was feeling ill to the bones. Unable to continue marking, I began wandering around my house, deep in thought. Then, I pulled myself out of the house to take a focused stroll. I would have wanted my stroll to have retained the definition of its name and to have been leisurely instead.
Ending up in a far-from-ideal Cafe
Having spent the day wandering around, I needed a cafe to settle in during the evening. I stopped outside Italian Osteria because their glass bottles filled with homemade biscotti snatched my attention.
I stood outside, thinking whether I should step into the restaurant that looked all too grand inside. All that classy lighting would have been way too distracting for writing. All I wanted was a simple and peaceful place. Being in Singapore feels like being inside a cage. I see the countryside in pictures but I know I can never reach those peaceful grounds.
I’m now at a cafe that I’m not comfortable in as I write this post. The cup of cafe latte I ordered hardly tastes like coffee. My cookie is far from crunchy as I chew on it while drinking my now lukewarm ‘milk’.
Beside me, two women have been incessantly chatting in a foreign accent. Their conversation is jarring, I have to say. Their intermittent laughter breaks my chain of thought too frequently for me to write at a healthy speed. But, I’m here because I just had to settle down. I had to make up my jumpy mind and resolutely squeeze myself into some place. A Wanderer might wander but she has to stop at some Shelter to recover, at some point.
Now that I’m coming to the end of this post, I can pack up my laptop and leave this artificially cold place.
I shall not wander but return home, only to let my mind get carried away in its thoughts, in the hope of running away from the cage it is steeped in.
At least, it has hope.
Featured Image: http://www.absolutearts.com/portfolio3/c/charlesab/The_cage-1429062548m.jpg