The Mango Cake

I came around on a sunny weekday,

Hands in my pockets,

Acting out little fidgety stories

Vasaline on my cracked skin disappearing under thirsty pores

Enough was the fear.

And so I walked into the bakery,

Cancelled the order for a delicious mango cake,

Returning favors had never been so easy.

Under the orange tree you lay,

Seated grudgingly on a stone pedestal

How small it was.

Only that you were waiting in vain,

No time could have waited but you

Musing about the possibilities that it could have been.

Under the orange tree we lay,

So long before

Hidden memories under these layers of cream and candy

I sat there once, and ate it all alone.

Just a thought.

It takes very little to be happy, but the knowledge that you are in control of your own destiny. Not the words of others, or material possessions, for they are all but temporary.

When the heretics speak

Amidst this lingering madness,
I plant the seed of optimism,
growing into numerous vines of white and yellow
red blood gushing through tired veins
till it falls
spent but valued.

But who more to live for but yourself,
and for the smiles of many, hungry men?

And the voices of many a authority,
whispering thunders of proclamation
drowning your elephant ears
Bellowing in the gentle breeze?

And the whispers of the dead
silently beneath the cold pressed soil
yearning a turn of the shovel
so as to breathe the fresh country air
wafting green and green over
whilst people toil in grey
repeated patterns quiver a monotonous heartbeat
A single continuum of blue
as red gushes into the green soil above
and into hungry, little mouths of the Fathers
with ne'er a rectum

But many mouths
all chanting the same tune.

Smiling.

The Before Book - Poem

For doors open, yet you don't see them
Only looking back at heavily watered grass
Wishing that in it lies flowered seeds
That break from the thrashed soil, with
Toiling arms not rested
And all of which falls back to a single voice.

The voice of reason resonating in a chamber.

A little man in a little city owned by Big Men - A Poem

We are an old soul, with a young heart. 

A grounded individual with large wings, soaring high in our dreams, only to crash next daylight

So as we sleep, we ponder

And we give thanks to the bread we break

It melts on our tongue

Not reaching our ravished, hungry tummies

Crying foul for capitalism unfair

But those are only words

Which we eat

and we chew

And we listen

And we grow full from the promises our forefathers sung

The foot does toil

the hands filled with callouses

The dry, rabid mouth

Speaking of sticky, sickly sweet words

We look through the drool, and then we see God

in the mirror.

The Past vs the Present

Our parents might have had it harder in terms of standards of living. No air conditioning (or perhaps inefficient cooling), noisier vehicles, no trains to take us around, less shopping malls, no electronics, terrible television quality...

But somehow they had it better too. Everything was more predictable. Change was slow. Communication was slow, but we saw each other more often. Graduating from university was a big event, and your career was made out from then on.

Life wasn't easy, but it was easy to plan.

Now, we think of the knowledge economy, the digital economy. Basically it means - we know too much, yet we think too slow in comparison to the myriad of computers making calculations every millisecond, on stocks, on the value of currency, of businesses - by the time we graduate - knowledge is made obsolete.

And this is reason to be afraid.
 But even more reason to dream big.

Thoughts about a life worth living

Sometimes we fall victims to choice. We choose to be victims of circumstance. We choose to be victims of personality. We choose to blame us on fate, on luck, on our upbringing. While there are many situations which lead us to think that we are but actors in a scripted play - could we choose otherwise?

It has been hard. Growing up in a society laden with expectations. With overly competitive schoolmates, competing in everything from results, to number of sport medals. Growing up, I've been like the others. Chased dreams of scholarships, of good results on report cards, on getting into the best classes in the school and taking more "prestigious" subjects - my entire ego has been fueled by an appetite for approval - by society.

And unfortunately something else crept in - my love for the entertainment industry. And from then on my attention has been ripped into 2 directions, one scrambling to maintain passes in school, and attending classes on time, and the other dreaming of a big break.

The long hours of acting (and sometimes rehearsals), the auditions taking up so much time, the rejections - it has made me into a person with a lot of grit - but sometimes, don't you feel like there's nothing left inside of you, other than a worn down shell?

My ego has been crushed, then rebuilt by a flimsy approval from the entertainment world. Every job I get seemed like a nod from an invisible judge in my mind, telling me that I too - can do well too.

That I will not retire at 70, poor and void of any true achievements.

I have ceased to chase paper grades. My aspirations in law are long over (to good effect, there's too many lawyers now for too little jobs), and my grades in business school are perhaps less than stellar due to my fear of numbers (equations? no.)

And my efforts placed in the entertainment industry are not enough to bear good fruit, but too much for such little progress.

5 years is too much. Yet some actors take 20 years, or more. Do I have enough time? Recently, a poor lady named Cheryl fell down a cliff in Australia, and died. If I was her, and I fell? Would I die filled with a life of what-ifs?

What am I doing with my life? Where are the big dreams dreamt of as a teenager?

Even now, I dream of an existence where I am a successful entertainer, host and actor, getting big gigs, my timetable full yet the full control to reject any gig; with a successful side business to helm and grow my finances - and a nice house and car to boot (I guess its alright to be a little materialistic), but then I wake up, to a comfortable home, though a little small, to parents who adore me, to a stable family, to a future where I may live a simple, perhaps frugal but livable lifestyle, where I am at my best comfort to at least try a little longer to reach my dreams.

And there are so many things to be thankful about.

My new internship that is going to last for 6 months, with very diverse and interesting colleagues, a convenient workplace, a friendly and sweet boss - all willing to take me in despite my inexperience and quirks.

My good grade for a single module, with a professor that is earnest and innocent.

Friends who are there for me, silently, but surely.

Good things do happen, and it should be made a habit to end every day thinking about the positives in life, and how exciting tomorrow would be.

The little gestures of kindness a fellow intern gives, a smile leeching from an unfriendly face, a pat on the back - and seeing happy, smiling people brightens up an otherwise unexciting existence.

And every tomorrow gives hope, that I am working towards a big break in my own little way - where the toil bears fruit and I am content.

Mindfulness goes a long way.