The Missing Pieces

Whenever I have an idea or inspiration to build LEGO structures or take photographs using minifigures, I often find myself digging my box for the pieces that I want. I do not have a proper display case for them and I firmly believes that there is no use to exhibit them behind glass cases as I would take them out most of the times anyway for my photography. The idea of painstakingly rearranging them in a specific post is discomforting. Thus, I would rather have them sorted out in a box, a la minifigures, accessories and bricks.

Given the confined spaces of my boxes, some pieces would detach or fell apart whenever I attempt to dig up pieces at the bottom of the box. My clumsy hands inadvertently crumple the adjacent models. What I mean by models are like Snaily here. 

Consequently, during one of my building frenzies, I could literally spend a good two to three hours creating a LEGO-esqued scene because most of my time is wasted on finding those detached pieces which for some reason, always end up at the bottom of the box.

It is extremely frustrating as these pieces are minuscule. The situation becomes more dire when it comes to minifigures. At times, I would purposefully detach their tiny hands or legs so that I can create an original persona. Given my lack of fondness for all things meticulous, I would unknowingly drop these pieces into the seemingly giant boxes. The next time I try to reuse the same pieces, I have to go through the trouble of finding them. It doesn't help when they camouflage themselves with the other pieces, escaping detection.

There are times when these pieces could not be located at all. Even to the point of dumping out all the pieces, the intended ones still elude me. It is moments like this that I turn myself into a panicky White Rabbit and I would frantically search every nooks and crannies of my room for them. You know it's serious when droplets of sweat starts to soak your forehead and your shirt in an air-conditioned room. Tolerance fades away and annoyance worry and restlessness become your unwanted companions. Meanwhile, nothing will soothe your mind until you find those missing pieces. It will come to a point that it's futile to even continue. I end up lying on my mattress, thinking could I have accidentally lost the piece the last time I used it for photography outside.

All seem lost until I fumble among the pile of LEGO and there it is. The pieces I want have been hiding in plain sight. Letting a sigh of relief, I happily resume the building process, albeit the huge mess I have to clean up.

It is easy to think that things we are looking for go missing all the time when instead they have always been there. No intrusion, no theft but merely hiding in plain sight. We find them missing because we never truly appreciate them until we need them. I admit, I have yearned for the adoration of my students, carefully making sure that they get what they want while maintaining a certain level of discipline and boundary. I always thought that the pieces connecting me and my students are missing but instead, they have always been there. I found out about this when one of my students teared up in my last class with him, saying that he will miss me. I was touched. I supposed I have been focusing too much on making them happy with me that I didn't really focus on them.

So, appreciate the people around you and they will never become those missing pieces that you need to find.

Trip for Tripped

In the days of working culture, there comes a certain weekend when we will be jamming our bags impatiently with any clean loose clothes we can find in the closet; trying miserably to convince any available friends we can contact on Whatsapp to tag along; and rushing haphazardly to the first tourist hotspot our stressed out brain can muster. Yes, we occasionally make holiday trips, even if it's just for the weekends. But ever wonder why we make them? Why we gladly ignite the match that could potentially burn a hole in our pocket?

Truth of the matter is small excursions are made every now and then when life becomes a tad too unbearable. They are a necessity to keep our mind intact, given that spending our precious time in a counselling office is on no one's itinerary. Thus, on most weekends, certain tourist traps become a beacon of desperation for enjoyment. In Malaysia, historical cities like Malacca and Georgetown are epitome of tourist frenzy. In short, all these trips are eagerly done in a desperate attempt to cleanse our occupational tension that we have accumulated in (what I call) a hectic urban lifestyle.

That is to say, if we ponder deeply on this, it's life way of tripping us. Just like a mischievous brat, life has a knack of pulling prank on us. Using the element of surprise, it sticks out its foot when we are least expecting and before we are aware of it, it trips us. Whether we go down unscathed or we inflict a permanent scar, life would just snicker (Ha! Ha!) without a slightest hint of remorse or regret.

It takes a tremendous amount of self encouragement to pick ourselves up. On fortunate days, life would withhold its cruel demeanor and leave us alone. On other days, we are tripped again the moment we get back up on our feet.

There's no doubt that it hurts. No matter how much we anticipate it, we are still caught by surprise when life shows up out of nowhere. Here's the thing, life constantly has its eyes on us. Like a predator keeping a watchful eye on its potential meal, we are never out of sight. Knowing the inevitable, we need some getaway before it strikes again.

It began, then, the irony of all this cycle - a cycle of trips. One that we are desperately trying to take control of and one that's out of ours. When tripped one too many times, I too subject myself to this cycle. In a month of October, I was in need of a trip and I found myself on Penang Island. Given that I had been to the island twice in my lifetime, it wasn't my first option of a trip but as the cycle spinned, I desperately needed one. This brought me to the realization that I had been making a trip almost every other month. The brutal truth is I have been falling down all this time. Life tripped me by laying out incessant amount of work I had to complete and the continuous reminder that failure is just right at my doorstep if I don't push myself. When I'm not careful, I stumbled and I'm on my knees.

Even now, I'm still trapped in this cycle of tripped and trips. Undeniably, I vouch that I would find myself on a trip again. These trips may only span a few days but it becomes a part of life necessity if we are to recover past tripped as well as endure the pending ones in future. Perhaps the cycle of trips symbolize the cycle of life or perhaps, we are doomed to a perpetual falling down and standing up. Whatever the answer is, the cycle continues. At the very least, we are still standing up in the end.

The Comfort

A soothing warmth beamed through the window. Flickers of dust glided through the ray like tiny fairies reveled, ready for the new daylight. The ray gently creeped its way to a face in a slumber. As it reached, it tickled softly on the cheeks as if to wake up a sleeping baby. In a moment or two, there was success. As the mouth yawned, the nose wiggled and eyes blinked, yet, the body remained motionless. It was just a moment and then, all of it ceased.

In a state of weak consciousness, the mind was still aware. Half awaked, half dozing; half dreaming, half aroused. It was in this moment, the sense of touch was at its peak. A soft delight was felt as the silky fabric of the pillow rubbed against a weathered face. Never had the softness felt so comforting.

Meanwhile, the body was engulfed in a cozy comforter, wrapping itself around a tender embrace. It was this peaceful contentment rendering awakeness futile. 

Turning to the side, a familiar scent appeared. It lingered in the pillow and gradually transforming itself into a nostalgia. The urge to search for a missing hand underneath the comforter appeared but it faded just as it came when realization settled down. A feeling of loneliness suddenly hanged in the air. The comfort and delight were gone.

Somehow, the ray sensed this and dimmed itself down before it got too bright or hot, maintaining its warmth. Minutes later, the comfort returned and the body was in an embrace again. There was another presence this time but a welcoming one. An imaginary voice soothingly reassured, "I will be see you soon." Just like that the fairies are dancing again and the comfort took over the room.

A Day at a Coffee Parlor

In the late afternoon of a coffee parlor, there was sense of serenity. Aroma of freshly brewed caffeinated beverage lingers in the air. So thick was the scent that one would be bombarded by it even at the doorstep of the parlor. Even those who were not fond of caffeine would find the scent mesmerizingly alluring. 

While the scent of coffee and tea danced in the air, their stage varied from venues to venues. Most stages featured a vintage 1970s designs and layout with a slight touch of modernism. Audience flight find themselves dazed by the atmosphere, time travelled back to their elders' past life. Coming back to the current era, a lovely greet of welcome and smile would invite anyone in. All the seats would bring comfort and one would sink into it if stayed too long.

The lights were dim but the room was illuminating with interesting patrons. All of them sought for a little getaway from the tension imposed by urban lifestyle. Speakers would offer placating melody, massaging patrons' stress away. There was no need for headphones as the ambiance would sway you away with its lullaby. Just like a siren, all worries and sorrows were temporarily forgotten. Who wouldn't cuddle up to such embrace?

As with everything in this world, such comfort comes with a hefty patronage but none seemed to mind the cost. It was a needed remedy urban denizens required. Medicinal treats like tantalizing chocolate cake and therapeutic coffee rendered one wanting for more. However, one should control their intake lest one yearned to become a Lotus Eater.

The hours passed. Plates and cups on the table were empty again with a stain of delighted pleasure. A reluctance to part ways was held deep in the heart but the train of life was waiting. It was a quintessential ride one would not afford to miss. With a push of the table, steps were made towards the doorway. The train would stop here again and it would be a stop to look forward to. Just like that, in the late afternoon of a coffee parlor, there was sense of serenity.