What is your notion of happiness?

"I hope you'll find your happiness in the end", he said with a sigh.

It was a close of a discussion, blanketed in despair. It was said without hope for the real meaning of the words uttered. I smiled, amused at what he implied in his final words to me.

Our conversation was a result of a deep rooted discussion about my beliefs in god and religion. Him a devout but moderate believer, I a wavering agnostic. Earlier, when I confessed my doubts in what is considered real truth by many people, he welcomed my differences. He celebrated the opportunities to debate what might be an intellectual/faith differences.

But lately, and gradually, he cemented his conclusion with hopes that I am to eventually find my way back to religion, that finally god will open my heart. As if to imply all along, I am not on the right path.

What if, I wonder to myself after my conversation with my good friend - I already found my happiness? What if I've already found my answers and they are not necessarily found in the way he had hoped for me?

Say, if I don't take what is considered the virtuous path of many, would my decisions be any less correct, true, or relevant?

Trying to be ordinary

I'm turning 25 in a day or so.

And I am anxious to decide whether I should start looking seriously at how my life is going to shape over in the next 5, 10, or 25 years, or whether I should just live my life one day at a time, with no regard to the past or the future.  

Sometimes I caught myself thinking; I'm not reading enough, I'm not writing enough, I'm not reflecting enough, I'm not seeing people enough, I'm not living my life enough.

But how much is enough?

And wasn't there a saying about life is what happens when we're busy making other plans?

I'm always the person with the plans. I have a career plans from 3 to 15 years. I have a list of things to do before I'm 30, things to do while I was in Australia, things to do for how much time I allowed myself to be in Malaysia. I have a list of characteristics in a man I would like to date. I even rate them on a scale of 1 to 10.

What if, for once, I want to stop thinking about what I want to do with my life;

And just live?

I've worked for almost a year now. And despite the fact most of the time I'm actually enjoying my work; reading and writing about the changes which have swept the way government and corporations operates with nature and environment, talking to people who needs help and assisting them in getting it - occasionally I would still feel like quitting.

I would look at other people and ask, how come they never seem to hate their job? How come they make it appear like they have the perfect job in the world? Don't they have demanding boss and inconsiderate superiors too? Don't they work weekends or at odd hours sometimes? When do they even have time to meet new people?

Oh my, wherever did I get the idea life has to be perfect? Whenever did I hammer into my head I can only be happy when everything in my life is fine and dandy?

I think I'm finally getting the idea about how beauty is skin deep, and happiness does come from within.

Timely serendipity

I woke up in the morning, hit by one powerful realization. Whether it was timely (it has been exactly a month since I returned) and I am due to move on with my life, or it was simply a serendipitous coincidence - I don't know. But for once, after a while of drowning in the stupor of grief and resentment - I feel like my vision is clear and my enthusiasm to live has sprung to life again.

A couple of days ago, I was scheduled to be in KL reuniting with my friends and catching up over our times shared together. But I didn't make it then. For some reason, I believe my absence was meant to be. I don't think I was ready to build the bridge connecting my old self - the one my friends knew so well - with who I've become today.  The truth is, I wasn't sure if I am ready to plunge into the new life yet, one with the currents so strong it might wipe away the core of my being.

Unnecessary disappointment

What is better to fill a holiday than Andrew Bird and Louisa May Alcott? Andrew Bird's raw voice is intoxicating it lifts you up into an altogether different universe, while the story of Jo and her sisters are refreshing enough it keeps you grounded in the reality of life.

There is little about the life of unemployment to be recorded nowadays. Apart from the usual reading, writing and pondering, I do nothing else to qualify my stories worth writing about. I wanted to write about the past, but the cheerful thought of them is tarnished with the grim prospect of my life at present - so I chose to preserve them where they belong. When I'm in a better state of mind, I'll revisit them again.

As for the future, although they warrant the most sparkling enthusiasm - I am reminded to be careful of unnecesary disappointment. The application is nearly complete, and I've begun to read and write for the proposal. However, since my life at the moment seems to move at a rather slow and disconnected pace - believing in possibilities is proving to be difficult.

Spicy curry and heart-stabbing smile

Sometimes I could taste memories. The frothy cappuccino and our hearty laughs. The salty sea and the trickle of our sweats mingled together. The spicy curry and a heart-stabbing smile. The refreshing mints and the sound of the beautiful song. I swear sometimes I could taste memories.

A vagrant's friend

My head was lolling to the music when he came, I was partly drowsy with sleepiness - battered from the 10-hour journey from Down Under, and partly anxious at the thought of seeing him after all these while. But when I faintly heard my name and I turned around to see his face breaking into a big wide grin - I felt light as a feather.

Friendship is a strange thing, I must concur. It grew from the least expected, and sometimes against the continuum of space and time. People always say the best of friends grew out of thick and thin, for better or for worse. But sometimes magical moments sprouted out of the driest and the barest of all lands. Sometimes an utterly honest manifestation of what a soul is capable of can only be seen in one spontaneous second - unplanned, and uncharted.

I am a wanderer, a gift of friendship is something I don't have at my continuous disposal. A floating and an aimless vagrant, I hold on to the memories of beautiful moments like a tramp hogging bare shillings on the floor. Like that one perfect morning in the terminal, they're hard to come by.

Re-acquaintance with home

There is a strange associated lethargy when I walked through town yesterday. It was the first time I stepped into the shopping complex since my return, and as usual the complex is packed with young people. Most of them just hanging about in groups.

It's been more than ten years since we moved to Kelantan, and somehow throughout all these years I'm yet to fall in love with the state. I've never really had the time to get acquainted with the city. I spent most of my teenage years living in boarding school, and then I went off to college. Until now, I've fallen in love with many cities and make them my home, but somehow Kota Bharu never made the cut.

In bleak comparison to Randwick, let alone Sydney - the sight of litters, roadkills, and lousy drivers are growing to irritate my presence about the town. Daily survival is becoming a trial nowadays. I woke up full of hope one morning and determined to start the new chapter of my life with enthusiasm and productivity, only to find my optimism diminishing to bare minimum at the end of the day. At night I dream of my life in Down Under, and sometimes the thought of what was once mine made me clench with bitterness and despair.