Grey skies, dull thoughts, pensive week.

Robbery

It's always a dreadful feeling, getting news of a loved one getting hurt. My mum was robbed yesterday, someone snatched her bag, and she took a fall. Thankfully her wounds aren't severe, a little shaken was she, but I don't doubt she'll weather through it soon enough. Good thing too that my father and sister were with her soon after the incident.

The news did make me realise how unprepared I was in receiving it. My heart sank, thoughts about how removed I am from the situation just made me frustrated. My mum was hurt, and I can't be there for her...

This time she got out fine for the most part, but what if something happens next time? It's a terrible thought, but sobering all the same, realising that I'm so far away from family right now, all I can do is hope that nothing worse happens from now, not at least until I get to see them again... Alas.

...

Rainy Thursday

The best way to get me moody? Let it rain.

I hate the rain. There aren't a lot of things in this world that elicits that word from me. Yet, I hate the rain.

Ironic, since I was raised in the tropics, a rain-forest country. But, I still hate the rain.

To top it off, there exists a period of time where I tolerated the rain, even thought it charming, for the sake of someone I once held dear, since she adored the rain. Well, she left me. So need I say more about the fact that I hate the rain evermore so? Well, I hate the rain.

Now that we've established my passionate disdain to the little droplets in the sky, allow me to report that it has been raining the whole day. Here... In the desert... Where it's suppose to be dry and arid... Not to mention hot? Don't even get me started on the cold temperatures, spring is long overdue yet we're still stuck with winter chills.

Alas.

...

Pensive thoughts

I suppose the combination of the above few occurrences, paired with a rather lukewarm service at BP earlier today, has made me rather pensive again.

Slow service, yet I made so many small mistakes here and there. I'm starting to feel the inadequacy again, the same feeling I had when I was working back in the studio.

Am I being overly sensitive? Insecure? Or am I genuinely incompetent? Either reasons are equally unpleasant.

I've been ruminating on her again, at least indirectly. This whole endeavour coming here to the US to study, can sometimes be an overwhelming thought. Did I make the wise choice by coming here? Was it impulse? Much that I'd like to pin the blame on my past lover for a decision I made, it's not that simple, nor is it any fair to think like that.

Yet, there exist this mild resentment I guess, this slight curiosity in my mind where I imagine an alternate reality where I never left home.

Would I have been happier had I stayed? I'm actually not sure. Come to think of it, I wouldn't have been happy either way. Though not incurring a debt would've been nice, then again, I'd have probably felt stagnated in life back home.

Huge risk, huge pay-off I guess. Might as well find a reason to be happy now. Wish me luck.

...

A Batu Pahat boy's brave journey

There was a boy from Batu Pahat. His family wasn't wealthy, but they got by decently enough. He grew up with a lofty aspiration towards the start of his life as a young adult, right around the 80's. He wanted to study in the U.S..

His family opposed, they couldn't possibly afford the endeavour. He took a leap of faith, he promised that he'll manage by pulling his own bootstraps.

And so he went, to a town in Utah to begin his journey. Studying as a foreign student in the heart of the U.S. was already a challenge in those days. But the young man needed to do more if wanted to continue his study, he began waiting at a restaurant.

Gruelling hours, difficult tasks, high expectations, yet menial wages. Nevertheless, he began to thrive, outperforming all his colleagues. 8 plates on one hand, 3 cups on the other, he was an efficient machine during the peak hours. Even during down time, he eventually became one of the fastest wrapper of dumplings.

While all that was happening, his home life was anything but glamorous. Outings for dinner were minimal, and while I'm not entirely sure, I would wager that he sacrificed much in his own social life. Even meals at home were bare basics. A loaf of bread nearing expiry to last most weeks, with nothing but a bottle of chilli sauce as his spread. He did all these things without uttering a word to his family regarding the hardship, for fear of worrying them, and it went on that way till his graduation.

This is the story of my current boss' brother. I'm here retelling his tale because I wanted to ruminate on the implications and parallels to my own experiences.

Suffice to say, his story made me feel like I'm not doing enough to strive for excellence. I came here with generally favourable conditions, I have relatives here, a safety net in terms of financing, and even a loan. He came over here with nothing but his will...

Am I doing enough? I'm not sure...

...

Kind gestures

To end this seemingly gloomy entry, I suppose I'd like to highlight two recent cheerier occurrences.

For one, an elderly couple that I had the pleasure to be acquainted with at English Corner offered to treat me to the musical "Wicked" that is coming up in April. I've been meaning to save up for the show, and I briefly mentioned about it to them in some of our past conversations. Needless to say I am pleasantly surprised by the gesture.

For another, I was chosen as the member of the month for the Music Therapy Students Organization. Again, it's something I didn't expect, but I guess a small acknowledgement from them does help lift my spirits of late.

I guess that's it for this week's entry. Until then.