On the Bridge, Castle in the Air

So, there I was, strolling on the Millennium Bridge for the last time-with the magnificent St.Paul's cathedral overlooking me from behind, and the amazing view of the River Thames on both sides of the bridge.

All of a sudden, there's this weird admiration, deep down, towards the architect behind this bridge. It seemed to me he must have thought that such beautiful scenes shouldn't be enjoyed separately by the people on two different islands.

People should be able to share the scenes together in the middle of the river. Well, that's just what I thought. Maybe that's what a farewell tribute to a city does to my imagination.

This reminds me of the many beautiful bridges that have laid before my eyes, when I was travelling around the world. Some of the notable ones are the Tower Bridge, The Golden Gate Bridge, and the Brooklyn Bridge.

If you look closely enough, they are like the modern castle in the air, an impossible piece of art in the middle of a river stream.

And what they do is to bring people from different sides of the islands to meet each other in the eyes. Well, sometimes it could lead to more than meeting the eyes.

Some encounters are for the sunset of today, while some are for the sunrise of tomorrow. We never know.

What we do know is that, if you don't cross the bridge, you will only see half of the scenery, and the other half could just lie right at the end of the bridge.

Note for London #003 - Imperial walking tour, Down memory lane

I was telling myself this, when I was resting at a small park near St.Paul's Cathedral.

"Imagine yourself doing a walking tour from Earls Court to Imperial College. How would that be?"

I always have this crazy dream, that one day if I become famous, the route from where I lived in London to the college I studied in would be a path that people would love to retrace and visit.

This is exactly like what I did in Paris. To follow the route where Hemingway went to Shakespeare and Co. to borrow the books he wanted and went to La Closerie des Lilas to have a cup of coffee.

And so, the journey begins at 15, Longridge Road, somewhere near Earls Court.

A short walk along Cromwell Road, and we will arrive at Lexham Garden. It will then lead us to this small lane, somewhere between two old white houses, right behind the private garden in the middle of the neighbourhood.

Come autumn season, the Cornwall Garden Walk will have colourful leaves that fall from the trees. It's as beautiful as the flowers that you see in the summer, as if the flowers bequeath their wonderful colours to their counterparts. 

Oh, don't forget about '50G, The Little House'. A cute and memorable name for the tiny house. It's just located at the top of the slope, after the Cornwall Garden Walk.

You will also see the 'Babboe Big' children cart at 66, Cornwall Garden. The children cart is attached to a main bicycle, just like those that you see in Amsterdam. Probably a Dutch family, I guess. 

Pay a visit to the Kynance Mews too. It's like a hidden garden, shying away from the hustle and bustle of Gloucester Road during the day. Some of the houses are painted in different colours, similar to the houses in Burano or Cinque Terre.

Towards the end of the road, you will see an arch covered by vines, as if the plants are welcoming you into a hidden tunnel, to a different world.

Then, there is this Cafe Deco at 62, Gloucester Road; where students will buy the 1 pound baguette every weekday after 6pm. Well, given the price, the quality is largely compromised.

Or, the students will buy the lamb briyani or chicken curry rice from The Sandwich Shop, at 54 Gloucester Road.

In between these two shops, you will find a small, modern french art studio, displaying some of the most stunning and impressive arts at 58, Gloucester Road.

Can't really believe that I will somehow miss the route to college.

Note for London #002

I go on the same route, back to college, and see what have I missed along the way.

Nothing much. I wondered, whether there isn't much to see along the way to college, or is it that my eyes have lost the ability to spot the hidden beauty?

Post-college life is a complete chaos of mixed feelings. Part of myself feel out of place, with this familiar route that I have taken everyday back then.

So familiar that now it's so strange to retrace the path.

The Queens tower is still there. Standing tall, overlooking the freed men, and those who are still chained to the slavery of courseworks.

Many things happened in the past 4 years. Some relationships are still there, some are not, some you are not even sure what have they turned into.

That's Imperial College for you. Many from the outside would like to enter, and many from the inside would like to escape from it. Can't believe we have been living with the irony for 4 years.

Note for London #001 - The Beginning of an End

Very often I get this question from my friends, "Since you travelled quite a lot, which city or country do you think is the best? "

And, I couldn't find an answer for that. Because I think, the more you travelled, the more you realise that the world is so diverse, that each city or country has her own beauty.

There isn't one best city that everyone should live in. But there will definitely be one city that can accommodate you, and make you happy.

Today, my supervisor asked me something different, "After travelling to so many cities, which one would you return to?"

This prompts me to think very hard. I couldn't answer it immediately. However, after giving it some thoughts, the city that I will return to is London.

Yes, it's London.

Well, maybe it could be part of the graduation goggles, that I think I won't be coming back anytime soon. Hence, I miss it even more.

Or,

It could be this is the only city I have stayed for so long, other than Seremban. 4 years- a period of time which is short enough to leave, but long enough to miss.

This place used to be a dreamland, when I was younger, singing along with the London Bridge nursery rhymes; and then it becomes a reality, and takes part of my heart away eventually.

From Seremban, to London; and from London, to the world. The exposure, the people, the experience- they are just so great.

The best thing a city can offer is to give you space to explore more rooms for yourselves. And, London has managed to do that.

From science to engineering, to politics, to writing, to banking and finance, to entrepreneurship, to art and design, to coffee and to travelling.

Truly a melting pot, of thoughts and cultures.

Thank you London, for the amazing 4 years. I will miss you dearly.

10 quotes that will change your travelling perspective

1. You will have a tinge of regret, when you are about to board the plane at Gate 56. Like why I didnt visit this particular place or do particular thing. But, somehow tell yourself that it's fine, because that tinge of regret is the reason that you will come back to this place again. You will miss it dearly, and that's simply beautiful.

2. Constantly moving around in a city as a stranger will only see as much as your eyes can see. Take a short break at a local coffee shop which shies away from the crowd, and you will see more than your eyes can see.

3. Put a globe or a world map in your bedroom, and your dream will be bigger than the world that you have seen.

4. Challenges are in abundance when you are in a foreign land. The nature will challenge you spiritually, the city will challenge you intellectually, at the end of the day, it's not so much about overcoming the challenges, it's about stretching yourself to a new limit that matters the most.

5. Sometimes, we tend to force ourselves to feel differently about different cities. I do that too at first, and I found out that is harmful to ourselves, because the travelling objective has changed from observing a place to observing ourselves. This is not good.

6. Be a traveller, and not a tourist; for a traveller will tell his story with his eyes closed, but with his heart opened; while a tourist will tell his story with his eyes opened, but with his heart closed.

7. As much as we are changed by the cities we visited, the cities are changed by our perspectives as well. It's like the butterfly effect. You smile to the city, and the city will hug you back. One traveller can change another traveller, and it all started from just a warm hello.

8. Always remember the random routes, the random conversations, or even the random sights you randomly encountered at a place. These are the most random, yet most precious souvenirs you can get from a place.

9. Rather than listening to the stories from the sailors, sail out to the sea like the message in a bottle. Travelling is a voyage that will make the message meaningful.

10. Carry the dreams of your younger self while you are travelling. It could be - to see the starry sky in the desert or to hike the mountains like Indiana Jones. It helps to rediscover your dreams in life, and to answer the curiosity you once had as a kid.

Of dreams and reality

As usual, I did my random read on my Facebook news feeds today. And I stumbled upon this line in a piece of article.

"You need to let your dreams change your reality; don’t let your reality changes your dreams. " 

As I am reading this line, many things seem to be running through my mind. It's nothing special, let alone being profound. Nevertheless, it's such a simple fact that we usually overlook or that we conveniently choose to use the latter as an excuse for the former. 

It has been a good 4 years since the day I hopped onto a plane to fly from KLIA to Heathrow. So many things have changed since the day I dreamed of coming to the UK, till the moment I feel heavy-hearted to leave this country. 

This line resonates very much with me because the exposure, the experience and the perspective that I am having right now, are pretty much a manifestation of many small, little dreams. Those small dreams are like the 400+ tiny bridges in Venice, which connect me from one place to another. 

And, many of those journeys and detours that I have made, are not plans that I have outlined before I came here. All of them happened in a pretty random manner, looking back in hindsight. 

Back in 2010, I didn't even know whether I would survive my time here in Imperial, and now I am few weeks away from leaving this institution. 

The people and the incidents that occurred to me are like stamps given by the border officers on your passport when you are travelling across the countries. 

An indelible mark of rewards for the decisions that I took, that was once backed by so much fears and one "you only live once" thought. 

You have to move across the boundaries, to get to another places.There's no way you can change your reality by talking about dreams. You can only change it by dreaming of changing it.  

Before I came here, the reality that I once had, is so real that you hardly even believe that you are able to do what you have been dreaming all day long. 

Thinking of going back to the reality I once had is not terrifying, but it feels strange whenever I start to think about it. It's like going back to home, but it has a tinge of distant feeling towards my own home. 

Maybe, reality and dream, after all, are at different sides of the same coin, that you need to turn over once in a while to not let your dream slip away, thinking that the coin has only one side that is valuable to your life. 

The Tales of the Desert

When I was younger, my mum told me about the stories of Aladdin and the Magic Carpet, Alibaba and the 40 thieves, as well as the smart, little girl who managed to tell a story to the king for 1001 nights.

As I grew up, I got a chance to read the book The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, a Brazilian author. I read about snake charmers, fortune tellers with orbs, gypsies and many other mysterious characters that form part of my childhood experience.

The tales of the desert thus began.

So, it started with a camel. At first, I thought that the 'ship of the desert' would give you the ride of your life, like a pirate ship that sails across the Caribbean, just like how Captain Jack Sparrow did it. Instead, riding on a camel that kept on bumping, to get deep into the desert was kind of a pain in the ass, both literally and figuratively.

Well, it's still a ride of your life anyway.

Looking at the vast desert, I got excited. Sitting at the sand dunes, counting the stars. The sky was magical, full of stars and constellations. I started counting them, then I realised that it's better to just leave them alone. 

Ibrahim, the stargazer came. He told me about the Big Dipper and Small Dipper, the Draco (dragon), which consists of 25 stars and the Scorpio. Since young, I have always wanted to get a telescope, but living in a town with light pollution calls off the whole idea. So, I read the stories of constellations from books instead, and get to know how the Scorpio fights with Orion in the sky and hence they never appear together in the night sky.

We shared stories. I shared my Greek mythology and he shared his wisdom on stars. The hours went by, and he told me that they normally forget the hours in the desert. Living your life without counting the hours, and just follow the stars.

I also met a person who sold carpets. I asked him 'why is carpet so important to you guys?'

He told me that there are 2 versions of  the stories. One, is that it represents a book or a diary to them. They put the messages or wisdom that they want to tell on a carpet. Or it could also be a condensed memory, to preserve what you have experienced on a carpet. 

The other one is about the Moroccan girls. They use the carpets as a welcoming gesture, to give a warm hospitality to the guests that come to their houses. At times, it could also be a silent protest. If you see a camel on the carpet, it might mean that the girl is complaining that even camels have more freedom than them. 

I also met the snake charmers and the fortune tellers with cards in the market. Just like those Arabic tales, you feel a mixture of skepticism and curiosity, in the lifestyle of these people. But those depictions of stealing your money with black magic are not true, maybe there are, but I haven't met any of them. I only gave them some dirhams to snap some pictures. 

Sometimes, I do have this wild dream that one day, my experience could become one of the Tales of the Desert. You know that type that you carry on a camel and walk across the dunes, and spread it to other people in the oasis. 

Or it could be a story that people string them together behind a group of stars in a night sky, far away from the Earth, and travels in the speed of light to another galaxy. After a lightyear or so, the generations to come will listen to this story, like how I listened to my bedtime stories from my mum.

Either way, I am happy to see that the 12-year-old me, is watching the sky in awe, while lying on the sand, bare-footed, but with a mind full of imaginations.

Thank you, Strangers.

We are all strangers. Before we give each other a smile, before we say ‘hello’, before we walk into each other’s life. To pay our gratitude to someone we know is hard enough, let alone saying thank you to someone whom we have just met for once and parted ever since. 

Who we are today, to a certain extent, is related to some strangers who have crossed our path at some points in our lives. It’s this unfathomable, weird and random intertwining of fate and luck that brings us together and teaches us something that nobody we know can teach us.

I have met many strangers along the way, especially through my travelling here in Europe and in the States. For me, travelling has enriched my life in an unprecedented way, but the strangers who appeared along the journey meant much more. They are like a small cup of espresso, or a pint of Stella that gives my trips a refreshing breath.  And now, those moments remain as a lifetime of scenic fragrance in my memory.   

Hence, to some of the strangers that I have met, I would like to thank you.  

There was a time when I was on a flight back from Berlin and out of shear misfortune; the flight was delayed as it ran out of fuel. This was all due to the massive air traffic queue at Gatwick airport. So, the pilot flew from Gatwick to another airport (Stansted), got refilled, and landed at Gatwick again. After the delay, I missed my bus back to Central London.  

My first thought was that I had to spend the night at the airport. So to pass the time, I started talking to the stranger next to me. Turned out that you are a British businessman who works at London and Berlin. The best part was that you live so close to my place at Central London. So, you fetched me home with your BMW Z3. On the way home, we talked about Berlin history, the Berlin weekend nightlife which goes all the way till 11am the next day and the start-up culture in Berlin.

To the middle-aged, hospitable Norwegian hostel owner at a small town called Hellesylt in Norway.  You knew how much I wanted to visit the Geiranger fjord, but there wasn’t any ferry service around that time. You then drove me with your beige 1965 Chevrolet Suburban, to a spot where I could overlook the fjord.

While I couldn’t thank you enough for your kindness, you only replied me this.

“I was there once. I was young before”.   

Also, to the German guy who told me you were doing you internship at Audi in Chicago, thanks for being my bike partners while I was cycling at the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. You told me how much you missed your school teacher girlfriend in Hamburg, and how much I should treasure my dreams and my loved ones, for they are the only things that we will think of in front of a beautiful sunset. That, is indeed true.

To the Spanish guy who couldn’t speak English at all, and represented your district for a martial art competition in Porto. We spent the whole half an hour talking, by just using our gestures. You taught me that languages are not as important as the intentions when we want to communicate with each other.  Ironically, it’s that when we have common language, we complicate our speech; but when we don’t get each other’s words, we become more patient.

And, to this Brazilian lady at the Le Regent Montmarte hostel in Paris, thank you for teaching me that travelling is the only thing that makes us rich, after we have spent all of our money. Oh and the samba dance moves with the red wine. Your gesture was so friendly, so much so that it kept me warm, from the ice-cold weather outside the hostel. 

Thank you to all of you. For without you guys, I wouldn’t know that sometimes, being a stranger is as good as being a friend. We were friends once, and became strangers after that. Probably, leaving it as how it is gives a better definition for the encounters. 

Do not be a stranger that gives people a cold shoulder, but be one that lends a helping hand and brings joy to others. One day you will realise that you might be in one of those thank you cards which are pinned on the boards, at one of the youth hostels, somewhere in this world, with the kind words,

“The best stranger I have ever known”

5 Things you realise after your final exam is over

So, the four, long years of college have finally come to an end.

The exam is over. So, what's next?

1. The exam is over. But the department loves you so much that they tell you "boy, dont rush off to enjoy in the big big world, you still have your final year project waiting for you." So, it's not really over yet. The euphoria that bursts out into the thin air just gets deflated like a party balloon. You then realise you are in this weird limbo, between celebrating the end of college exam, taking a break, and doing your project. Then, you crawl back to your desk and look up to the Queen's message : Keep Calm and Carry On.

2. The library is getting quieter. So, this is pretty weird. Library is at the peak of its noise level when everyone is preparing for the exams. And, library is turning back into a library, after exams. Where you don't get people eating, where you don't get people making noise, and where you don't get people reserving for places. Oh. and we don't sleep in the library anymore.

3. The weather. There's a famous saying about London weather: "If you don't like the weather, just wait for a few minutes". Before that, you were in the library 24/7, (well dont take it literally, while for those who take it literally, god bless you) so the weather didn't really affect you. Now, you have a couple of minutes to spare, and you start realising the weather is not as sunny as 2 weeks before, and you start questioning, "where did the sun go?" And, the sun leave a message on it's unreachable cellphone: "i am on a summer vacation, will be back soon. ttyl"

4. The room. Your room is the one single place you are most afraid of after exams. It's full of small, little hills built out of your notes, past year paper exams and text books. Then, looking at them, with your mouth wide opened, you don't know where to start to tidy up your room. Then, a brilliant idea came into your mind. "Oh, I still have a final year project to do."

5. The notes. Should I burn it? Should I throw it away? Should I bequeath this treasure to the juniors? Or should I bring it back to my home country? With so many questions running in your mind, saying a yes to the 2nd question is the usual option. One, you recycle and help the nature. Second, you save the troubles for yourself to keep thinking about it.

      

被遗忘的热血政治

似乎很久了。那感觉，像个被放置在垃圾堆里的弃婴，被遗忘，被放弃。

四年前，还未到英国就读时，因为有常阅读报章的习惯，所以也就喜欢起写作来。后来，慢慢的，开始想以文字，为别人打抱不平。 这，开始了投稿到星洲言路版(Letters to The Editor)的旅程。

当你越写越多时，很自然地你就开始对政治产生兴趣。那时候，SPM毕业后，得不到JPA的海外奖学金。一气之下，把所有的怒气和埋怨，用文字大吐苦水。开始关注起教育课题，开始去阅读专业政治评论员的文章，开始去想到底如何利用文字改变大马人的思维，如何推动国家改革。

一个十七岁的少年，为了热血政治(和赚多一些稿费)，什么时事课题都拿来臭骂一顿。这是我最早期对于"个人利益离不开政治,政治也离不开个人利益"的切身体验。满腔热血，还曾一度想去报读 Political Science。

后来，到了吉隆坡去读 A－levels，认识了志同道合的朋友。开始出席MSLS，开始浏览Recom。然后，觉得只用华文来谈政治，始终无法和更大的朋友群辩论和沟通。这也开始了我为Berita Harian, Dewan Siswa, Malaysiakini书写的路程。后来想到,将来要去英国读书，所以也开始留意英文报的评论文章。

 然后，得到梦寐以求的奖学金。为了保障自身和奖学金的安全，我停止去写一切有关政治的文章。 这些年的夏季，都有回去马来西亚。出席了一些讲座，很多都是没有建设性的意见。你要讲话的平台，政府也给你。但是，你所说的东西，他也不会去听。

渐渐的，我开始对大马失望。对着一箩箩的旧问题，更是反感。大二时，为了让更多的年轻人明白到现实和实际的残酷，唯有做好自己的本分，才能够让自己的声音被听见，就像潘建成那样，我投稿去Malaysia Insider。 然后就有位学生大力抨击，说大马才独立５０多年，民主化需要时间，急不来。

 我顿时失望透顶。决定不再写政治文章了，因为那时候觉得，写了一大堆，政府依旧我行我素，问题依旧没有解决。大家都不明白，再等下去，国家就会完蛋了。

就这样，我变成了，十七岁的自己反感的那种人－开始对政治冷感。 在大三时，我的室友对政治很有兴趣。只可惜，我已找不回年少的热情。每每提起一些课题，我都哑口无言。因为我已经改变初衷了。

我相信，行动胜于言语，甚至文字。

 现在，看着身边的亲朋戚友都对政治感兴趣了。大家都看到希望，大家都热血起来了。 这让我很感动。看着海外和国内的朋友也不断呼吁大家投票来改变历史，拯救国家未来。国家兴亡，匹夫有责。我们看到了我们的责任，我们的能力，我们的理想。

一个大选，让一个政治冷感的年轻人，感到热血起来。这好象突然回到１９５５年，我们全国上下决定反殖民的那个时刻。