Your Window to the World

I've had just enough time to...   open my window to the world

A lovely window that I chanced upon in Malacca...

How you look at the world

Shapes how you look within

Your window to the world is

What It sees when it looks in

You see more through the views

Of others than what you yourself see

Look at the world

With love and compassion

So that the world

Will look at you the same

...said a lot about the owner.

The Lady in the Flower Cheongsam Promise Me Love

I've had just enough time to...   deliberate on the complexities of Love & Life

The Lady waiting on the stairs by the street of Malacca

The lady in the flower cheongsam

Promise me love 

But I don’t have the currency 

She said she doesn’t mind 

But many do 

And do I 

Mind we are of different worlds 

Mine beneath hers

What about pride?

Love conquers all when you’re in love

But love is like soft petals on sunny days

All too soon it fades away while

Pride is sharper than steel and

Harder than the boulder

That stood in our way

Love on her mind

Coward! She cried

Your pride is too fragile

Hitting me where it hurts

How do I make you understand

A man’s pride is his being

Without which he is a bitch

I can give you my life

But I can’t sell you my pride

What about love?

What about love?

Without love a man can survive

A lesser man he may be but a man still

Without pride a man is a dog

Its tail licking its heel

Life in the way

I am a woman.

I need no pride which

Makes me more a man than you

I am willing to die for love but

I am not willing to die for pride

I am willing to give up everything

For that sublime feel

You are not willing to accept heaven

To your brittle pride you yield

She stood at the top of the stairs

I stayed below

She dared me to go up

But all I could think of

Is the same promise

Made by the farmer’s daughter

One love is as good as another

But a shattered pride

Stay shattered forever

Looking Out The Window With A Smile

I've had just enough time...   to look out the window into the world with a sad smile

The clown looking out the window into the world in historic city of Malacca

Looking out the window

Into the world

With empty eyes and a smile

The small kid runs, laugh

And pointed

He likes it best on hot afternoons

When only stray dogs

Roam the silent street

On cloudless night when pebbles

Reflects the moon’s silvery lights

On rainy days when heaven’s tears

Spear the lonesome Earth

Always with the same smile

The same empty eyes

Looking out the window

Into the world from behind bars

I was wandering through the street of one of my favorite city. The historical city of Malacca where there always new discoveries to be made. At a corner building of the Ironsmith Street “Jalan Tukang Besi” away from the maddening crowd, I saw a Chinese Clown in a T-shirt looking eerily out a window of the brightly painted orange building. Its fathomless eyes unreadable and its sardonic smile uninterpretable. What are its thoughts to be looking out the window every day? I tried to imagine but it is not easy to be a clown with sad eyes and an uneasy smile.

The Hooded Cyclist on a Green Bicycle in Downtown Surabaya

I've had just enough time...   to have an encounter with the hooded rider of a green bicycle

Caught this hooded cyclist in downtown Surabaya

In the busy street of Surabaya

Competing with trucks and cars

A thick hooded cyclist

On a green bicycle emerged

Face masked against

Spurting fumes of

Noisy vehicles all around

Who is he?

What are his thoughts

What makes him what he is?

I would have run after him for answers

But I was not, and he disappeared

Into the traffic leaving questions

Hanging like smoke in the polluted air

I was in a car squeezing through the afternoon traffic in downtown Surabaya when from nowhere I noticed a hooded cyclist. That is very rare in a tropical country especially it is made of thick clothes as the one he wore. Must be very hot and sweaty under that. With the hood and the mask he wore, one cannot even make out his features. His attire is different from the locals and he wore heavy boots and rode a green bicycle. With the cars moving slowing due to the congestion, he whizzed through the traffic and disappeared in front of us. He is very interesting and I found I wanted to know more regarding this strange character. So if anyone recognized this hooded cyclist of Surabaya, be sure to drop me a line and satisfy this itch-like curiosity.

A Broken Bowl of Rice

I've had just enough time...   to smash my iron bowl

Found this broken bowl of rice in Kuala Lumpur, will I deliberately break mine?

He had an iron bowl

That cannot break

So he cared not

If it dropped

Till it was replaced

With one of clay

To his chest he cradled

But it accidentally dropped

Smashed to pieces

Overcame with fear

He lived on edges

Till he discovered

His life was saved by

A broken bowl of rice

In another section of the hall opposite to the one with the sculpture of sealed lips (see last post), was one exhibiting works by different artists employing the same theme “bowl”. Though this is not very original, it is still my favorite as it resonates with me and reminded me of all the fears we experienced worrying about breaking our bowl of rice. But same as the sealed lips, it may not necessarily be a bad thing to go beyond our comfort zone. And sometimes, we need a disaster to push us out of it. 

If my lips are sealed

I've had just enough time to...   have my lips sealed

Taken of the sealed lips in an exhibition in Kuala Lumpur

If my lips are sealed

I won’t be able to compare

Thee to a summer’s day

Or express in how many ways

I love you

If my lips are sealed

I can only love in silence

Like the undisturbed snow…

Pure and unadorned

Unadulterated by words

I was waiting for a charity event to begin and I wandered as I’m prone to do. I stumbled into a gallery and I liked this exhibit. The first thought was political – about how much we cannot say in this country. But when I draw out this photo to write, I find I did not want to go down that path. I want to write about love. And what can happen if one can’t express it. It is not necessarily bad.

The Happy Faces of Octoberfest Parade - Part II

I've had just enough time to...   hunt for smiles

A Generous Smile

Around the fire, the hunter illustrates

A sea of faces is not the best hunting place

Crowded heads and hurried paces produce only

Frozen smiles with insipid tastes, we hunt

The wild antelopes that leap from hidden bases

A Cheer-ful smile

A Bald Smile

 

A Smile in Every Direction

The best lure for smiles is another smile

Dredged from the depth, still smelling of blood

Excites the hearts, setting them aflame

Spreading quickly through the land of game

Smiles will rise like a flock of startled birds

On a sudden charge of stampeding herds

Smiles after smiles the hunter aimed

Smiles after smiles the hunter claimed

A "watch out for the horse shit!" Smile (woman) & A Careless Smile (old man)

A Hidden Smile

A Saluted Smile

A (not so successful) Covered Smile

That cold October morning, the hunting was good. I hunted and caught smiles after smiles. I hope to catch a few with this post. I still remember the lesson taught - “the best lure for a smile is another smile”.

Prancing Smiles

Many Colourful Smiles

A Juliet Smile (where's Romeo?)

And finally the smile I tried hardest to capture. Saw the lady in uniform controlling the crowd. She was serious in her task. I willed her to smile and finally my long distance mind control worked and I caught her smile! :)

The Grasshopper In My Room

I've had just enough time to...   encounter a grasshopper in my room

The grasshopper I encountered in the seventh floor of my hotel room in Kuching

I found a grasshopper

On the seventh floor of my hotel room

How did it get there? I do not know.

But it must have hopped there

All the way from where it came from

I said ‘hello’ but it hopped away

To a far corner of the room

I left to do what hotel occupants do

And when I returned, it was gone

I never saw it again but did I hear its song?

In the early morning

Before the breaking of the dawn

I was awaken by singing in my room

I don’t which is lonelier

The singing by my bed or

The early morning prayer

Enveloped by the yearning

And the longing

I fell into a strange dream

Of heaven and home…

Two days ago when I opened the door to my hotel room in Kuching, a tiny grasshopper sprang away from me. I followed it to the center of the room where it stopped and viewed me with cautious eyes as I snapped it. As I had to leave immediately, I left it undisturbed where it was. When I returned late that night, it was nowhere to be seen. The next morning when it was still dark, I was awaken by the shrill singing that after several moments of sleep deprived confusion, I concluded it must be from the grasshopper in my room though I am not sure what sound grasshopper make. At the same time, the early morning prayer from across the river wafted into my room. Surrounded by these two sounds, I fell asleep again to a strange dream…