(:

so glad to receive a little (and unexpected) morale booster today...

sometimes, all we need is a little push...

 

 

 

a picture for you

The post title is the subject of an email I received this morning.

When I was in the States, I had the fortune to meet this pair of very gungho grandmothers from New Zealand who took great care of me during my Niagara Falls day trip. We exchanged email addresses and a while back, I sent them a couple of photos from the trip. Today, I received a surprise email from one of them of a photo we took during the trip and an invite to stay at her place when I go to New Zealand. Just felt all warm and fuzzy knowing that I am being thought of.

(Niagara Falls, 2012) The photo that was sent over

what i am looking for...

"Intellectual thrill, aesthetic rejoicing, quiet appreciation, fond recollection, witty banter."
~Yann Martel, Beatrice and Virgil

My favourite line from a book I do not think is worth reading. What a letdown.

memo: awestruck moment with mother nature

(Battery Park, 2012) Very surreal

I was crossing Battery Park, on my way to catch the Liberty Cruise. A spot of pink amidst the greenery of the park caught my attention. It was a tree, the only tree in the park that is still in late bloom, shedding its pink blossoms. I have seen flowers fall, but never at such a scale. There must be at least a thousand flowers on the ground. What an amazing sight. I stood under this tree, my feet nestled in the soft cushion of grass and petals. I closed my eyes and felt the petals falling gently. I could even smell the sweet fragrance.

It was a quiet moment between nature and me.

memo: a rush of gratitude

It was late evening. I was having a slice of pizza at the basement of the Grand Central Terminal while reading my book. The pizza was good but I was pretty full by the time I got to the crust so I decided to throw it away. It was then that I noticed this middle-aged Afro-American man at the litter bin just next to my table. He was rummaging through the contents of the bin, apparently searching for scraps of food. I impolitely stared for a few seconds before my mind registered the scene. Indeed, the man was putting together his dinner from the bits and pieces of edible waste in the bin. I was taken aback. Here I was, on vacation, in this big city of dreams, and face-to-face with... poverty? I looked at the crust in my hand and felt my face redden with guilt. I gobbled up whatever I had intended to discard and left the place. The sky had already darkened as I was walking out of Grand Central and I noticed some people seated on the floor, lining the sides of the Terminal entrance. I quickened my steps and lowered my head in shame when I realized that the homeless were just setting up their bed for the night. Their one-bagful of possession sat next to them. I don't think I EVER need any reminder to make me realize how fortunate I am to have food on the table, a bed to sleep at night and a roof above my head.

ashamed to be spoilt rotten

Read two articles today which I thought I should share.

TIME Print Edition March 19, 2012: Escape from Syria
An article about a war photographer's escape from Syria.
(In case you have been hiding under a rock, the country slipped into war because the leader ruthlessly kills dissidents to prevent an uprising against the government. Today, an agreed ceasefire came into effect but everyone is skeptical of how long it will last.)
Excerpts:
"...in the battle for Syria, where the rules of wars do not apply and where civilians are facing a savage massacre...
"Most residents of Bab Amr, says Daniels, "had someone in their family, [maybe] several people, who had been killed. We felt very bad saying 'Please help us get out of here. We have lost our friends.' We couldn't say that, because they had lost everything."
"He says repeatedly that he is deeply uncomfortable that the ordeal of the Western jounalists has gripped the world's attention while hundreds of residents in Bab Amr have been killed."

PilotOnline.com: A chance in hell
(http://hamptonroads.com/2011/07/chance-hell-part-one-inside-combat-hospital-afghanistan)
A five-part series on the day-to-day life of the staff of the NATO hospital at Kandahar Airfield. If you are not close to tears at the end of reading this, you don't have a heart.
Excerpts:
"Looking at him now, quiet and still for the first time since he arrived, you begin to notice things about him besides his terrible wounds. You notice how young his face is. You notice that he’s tall.You notice his muscles, how lean and toned he is. You figure he has to be an athlete. Maybe he is – was – a football player. You notice the two words scrawled on the back of his forearm, and you wonder whether, after this, he’d get them tattooed there again: “No regrets.” Then you start to think about everything that lies ahead for him, assuming he survives. You think about how he’s going to feel when he wakes up after this surgery and realizes that it wasn’t all a nightmare"
"The day I got here, the average age in the ICU was 5,” he says. “I think that number speaks volumes about the nature of this war."
"Too many people complaining about things that don’t matter – office politics, personality conflicts.” He pauses. “That’s definitely something this place does to you. It takes away your tolerance for people who complain about things that don’t matter. It’s like, ‘Are you healthy? Do you have all your limbs? Then everything’s fine.’”

It is really hard to imagine such atrocities happening in another side of the world, when I am just a pampered city dweller. But reading such articles puts things in perspective. What gave you the right to be typing angry messages on facebook whining about the most insignificant stuff when there are nobler causes to fight for in life? I feel angry thinking about the unjust - that the people of war-torn states have to worry about whether they will be alive the next day while I sleep cozily in my bed at night. I feel angry knowing that fellow human beings learnt nothing from history, and actually believe that violence is a means to an end. I feel angry knowing that I am, but a coward, one of those privileged people of the developed nations, who only knows of war through the news and who does nothing but sympathize and shed an occasional tear or two.

Life is unfair? Indeed.

'twas a good break

"and the fleeting sense of joy should not be treated callously, just because it is short-lived"

~Wise words from a friend to me

(Ao Nang Beach, 2011) First sunset

(Ao Nang Beach, 2011) pretty sight

(Ao Thalane, 2011) Kayaking

(Krabi, 2011) Must love cats!

(Krabi, 2011) The neurotic cat with its signature 'puss-in-boots' look

(Ao Nang Beach, 2011) My purple lantern

(Ao Nang Beach, 2011) My first lantern experience came to a tragic end when a gust of wind swept my dear lantern away before it took flight

(Maya Bay, 2011) Gross overcrowding at the island hopping sites

(Klong Muong Beach. 2011) Leisurely morning at a quiet beach away from the busloads of tourists

(Krabi, 2011) Rock climbing rocks

(Krabi, 2011) My awesome legs (:

(Krabi, 2011) Staring in awe at the experienced rock climber

(Phra Nang Beach, 2011) Cartwheeling on the beach. F.U.N.

(Phra Nang Beach, 2011) Sunset

Photo credit: a very talented friend of mine