where thoughts materialise.

So we're into the sixth version of my blog after the last version hung around for a year or so.

Now, a bit of info on this image. This photo was taken one lovely spring afternoon, featuring the iconic Old Well from the UNC Chapel Hill campus. I would like to think of this image as a tribute to my time in UNC Chapel Hill, the awesome friends I made and the memories I now hold dear.

A milestone in my life indeed.

I've dropped the tagboard cos its useless and taking eons to load. But thanks to Angela who helped me set it up, I still do like and will miss the pink interface.

So yeah, it's the sixth one you fellas!

Yours.

27 April 2008

you know you miss my older entries

October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

You will probably label me as a weirdo if you read on, but I do have a point to make.

See, Clementi bus interchange will relocate from the 29th, which is next Monday. And I have nothing against that. But looking around at its old fittings and cramped layout as I was there today, I can't help but feel a feeling of lost.

This, I suspect, is largely because the bus queue for service number 99 is one which was once frequented by my late grandma very regularly till the day she was found with cancer.

And what has that got to do with the relocation and the lost?

This is exactly how architecture/modernism takes life as a tidal force, inevitably sweeping individuals forth whether we like it or not.

Often, emphasis is placed upon the idea of moving on as a positive thing, but what we do not address is usually how moving on means that what we have left behind necessarily becomes obselete. When the erection of a new physical structure takes place, it irradicates the sense of place brought about by the same place before. It effectively draws a new line in time for a the cultivation of a new sense of place altogether. And like the tide, it erases the marks we used to make on the sandy beach, and now a clean slate, ready to be written on again.

The greater the attachment to a place, the greater the feeling of loss. The psyche that goes behind making way for the new is deeper than what many people may think it would be, and its range of issues brought about by this depth (largely, memory and sense of place) is very tragically and very usually something we can do nothing about.

Sometimes I wonder why we are made with the incapacity to resolve such notions of loss, but I have learnt to accept much of it. We are, afterall, beings made to live in tandem with time and not to dwell in one point of it.

Another chapter is hence closing upon my grandma, and with time, it is going to get harder and harder to remember her. I suspect this is how memory dies. So this is how we forget. One day, she will reside no where else except in my heart. But very thankfully, that is the only place where her presence matters most to me.

nimgnoy let the night fall at 3:45 PM

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