something borrowed, something blue.

i draw the violin case from beneath a muddle of books and bags. i think to myself how strange it is - the fact that I've ceased to notice it for so long, and yet, when the need arises, i know just where to find it.

its case is weathered and frayed and at first, i take it out carelessly. it's after all, just another object, an object which used to be mine. but then again, my fingers jerk in disagreement. my fingers, my palm - they have memorized this feel, this supple grip, this delicate curvature. and so, i slow down, consciously and deliberately drawing it out - as i have done so many times before.

opening the case of something musical, something of such sentimental value for the first time in a long time can be indescribably profound. it's as if the butterflies of a forgotten past, a cobwebbed corner in your soul suddenly comes alive. hastily, i unzip the case, not quite realising that my breath is held. i am imbued with anticipation; i am not even sure why. and then there's this sudden still in the air as my eyes fall upon the instrument.

for some reason, my heart sinks. it hurts deep within; i am inexplicably torn - torn for feeling so connected and yet, so irreparably distant. this amorphous veil flutters limply between us and there is this stale feeling of loving something that will never quite be truly yours again. it hits me like a surging wave - the endless hours of practicing, the orchestra days of blindly playing along and sliding small fingers up and down fingerboards, the trembling hands as a recital begins. it starts off as a single note, a harmony which then escalates into a full-blown symphony.

i catch my breath as i gently let my fingers run across the exquisite wood, the fingerboard, the bridge. i caress the strings almost longingly, hoping somehow that my touch would elicit the same sounds that had resonated in my dreams once upon a long time ago. i am surprised at myself, for never had i imagined that i would feel such an infinite attachment to this music-making thing in my hands.

but this moment of epiphany passes (as all moments do) and crumbles away. the wings of the butterflies of old slow to a still. i cannot help but wonder why after all the things we have been through together, you still seems like something borrowed, something blue.

Jesus Loves You!

I stood there, before the notice board, my eyes skimming through the school calendar.

The morning was still dark and the quiet peace which only comes with early mornings such as these still reigned. One word jumped out at me, continuously.

Peperiksaan.

Yes, that foreboding word kept appearing, again and again, until all that was left of the calendar to me was the word PEPERIKSAAN, hugely printed in block letters. I could feel my heart beat;I could feel it thumping as wave upon wave of fear and worry consumed me. A string of incomprehensible thoughts ran through my mind, collided somewhere in between and all I felt a second later was enshrouding darkness and total disintegrated confusion. The dark morning was only getting darker and that peace had been tainted by a seizing panic. I had to tear myself away from the board.

Breathing unsteadily, I sat down on an orange stool in the common area (where students usually try to get homework/some studying done in the morn). In a desperate attempt to shake off the clinging panic, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. And it was when I opened it again that I saw a pencilbox with the most reassuring words I've seen for a long time.

Plain and simple, it said: JESUS LOVES YOU.

And suddenly, I felt the gripping worries fall away, the fear torn asunder, for I knew that amidst those terrifying thoughts, Jesus loves me. And all He has called us to do is to do our best and leave the rest to Him.

Matthew 11:28-30
28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

You see, Jesus loves each and everyone of us SO UNIMAGINABLY MUCH - and that love will never fail you. And so, if worry has somehow seeped its way into your heart as it so easily does, I'd like to encourage you to take heart and to trust in Him. He will never fail you, He cares for you :)

And so, on an entirely different note together, I was browsing through YouTube the other day and I came across this AMAZING guy and I was just blown away by the extent of which he was willing to go to just to bring love into the lives of people. It absolutely inspired me to share this love that I have been blessed with. But most of all, I realised that really, love should be freely given without expecting anything in return for we have the greatest love we can find, EVER in our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

4 am

I trash around in bed on what seems to be yet another sleepless night. I flail around for something solid to hold on to - but find myself sinking deeper instead into an indefinite abyss. I toss and turn in semi-consciousness, kept awake by the mosquitoes which feast on me. My dreams are hazy, as if glimpsed through a filmy veil. They are terribly disjointed - but have enough of a nightmarish quality for me to recall the feeling of longing, the pining for days past and for the beloved faces of people too far for me to hold on to. A stinging pain in my left eye jolts me awake - and in hasty panic, I grope my way down the staircase. I grab a bottle of Eye Mo and douse my eye with it. Thankfully, the pain ebbs. It occurs to me that some fresh air might do me good. I stumble into the vast space - and the dark night. I immediately miss the cold, cold fall nights. The moon is shining dimly and the house next door is blaring Chinese opera tunes. I realize with peculiar pride that I am back in Malaysia, back in the melting pot of cultures - where anything is possible. A gnawing hunger eats at me - and I have a sudden hankering to practice the piano.

Is this jet lag? Or am I missing this:

To a vivacious, young lassie who has too much explosive energy in her small frame.

Meet Miss Abigail 'Fally' Chew. She thinks she's very cute. I'm not sure if I agree :P

Well, well, let's see what we have here. Today is my little sister's 13th BIRTHDAY! My oh my. These years have indeed flown by all too quickly. She's officially a teenager! (oh, you have no idea how many childhood days I have whiled away wondering how Abigail would look/be like when she's finally 13) And now, here I am, sitting at the computer, calmly blogging as she turns the rosebud pages of being a young lady. I smile. I'm sure she'll cringe when she reads this later. Hehe.

So, on this very special occasion, I figured I'd do a little tribute to my bouncy, explosive sister.

1. Miss Photogenic. (Kononnya ;D)

Right. This little sister of mine - she happens to be very, indescribably fond of taking pictures of herself :) Hehe! (But I'd have to admit that she is the only one out of us three siblings who can pull off the very many different 'creative poses' Asians have fabricated!) Let me describe to you a typical scenario which happens every night.

Bored that I have AGAIN drifted off to Dreamland all too soon and she has no one to converse with, she lolls around in bed, trying very hard to think of something which will entertain her until she too, joins me in Dreamland. A thought bubble appears on top of her head. ELEASHA'S HANDPHONE! She creeps around my room. OBJECT ATTAINED! And there's pin-drop silence for the rest of the night. And all's well with the world. Till -

I wake up the next morning to discover that there are NEW, sometimes disconcerting pictures on my phone of a certain type. I shudder. And go on a deleting spree ;)

[the above story is slightly exaggerated]

2. Miss Giggles

Abigail is a strange specimen. She laughs too much. ALL THE TIME. Sometimes, I wonder how her little kiddy self can contain so much laughing gas. What makes it even queerer are the mundane unfunny things which trigger her laughing bouts. Which mind you, last a long time. There was this one time when she sat - laughing uncontrollably over these two lines.

Whaddya have for lunch?

I had fruit.

Do not ask me what's so funny about it. I have no idea. But I notice that she finds the last line especially hilarious. She happens to love cartoons like Phineas and Ferb & Shaun the Sheep because they make her laugh - a lot. As for the reason behind it? Je ne sais pas.

Just yesterday, the name Horatio tickled her funny bone and she decided to come up with an awkward dance sequence for that name. (Which I admit, quite unabashedly, was rather laugh-worthy!)

3. Miss Darling-after-all

Aww. So innocent looking, squashed between her two elder sisters ;)

When all's said and done, I guess both Sarah and I are incredibly fond of our cheeky little junior for so many reasons it's hard to list it all down

1. as I have to finish this blog post before midnight (which is in approximately 15 minutes)

2. there would just be too many things to write about

So, excuse me as I attempt to fit her warm, loving self into a paragraph.

Despite her repeatedly telling me that I should go sing in Oscar's garbage can, she is the most supportive, sweet little sister one could ever have. She deals with my ramblings every night, switches off the air-conditioner for me when I'm too exhausted to do so, animates my school powerpoint presentations in her higgledy piggledy manner, gives me great big hugs and keeps me grounded with her shrewdly honest comments. She is able to break the awkward silence in any occasion with that contagious laughter of hers and extinguishes any form of mounting pressure with her ridiculous sense of humour.

An incident which comes to mind: During my most recent school examinations, I was really stressed and could hardly think of anything but my papers. Stressed and pretty much disillusioned, she plastered a big smile on my face when she drew me a card which read 'ELEASHA ROCKS HER EXAMS!!! *smiley face* *smiley face* *yet another smiley face*' It was a simple gesture - but it gave me the strength to get through that week of examinations.

And I think that's the perfect embodiment of Miss Abigail 'Fally' Chew. She's really, after all, a good little girl who is perfectly content with being quintessentially her - now - forever. And so,

BLESSED BIRTHDAY ABIGAIL! WE LOVE YOU! <3

How does one name this feeling?

It's when you're down in the dumps and you feel so insignificant that you discover with a fresh understanding all over again that Mummies and Daddies are the most amazing people alive.

And I thank God for them.

Because He is.

There’s nothing quite as beautiful,

As seeing those rain clouds gather,

Wrapping the world with an all too familiar,

Wispy, hazy, splendor.

There’s nothing quite as beautiful,

As watching those first rain drops fall,

Like crystals, laden with myriads of colour,

Harbingers of hope and wonder.

There’s nothing quite as beautiful,

As walking in the falling rain,

There’s freedom, elusive freedom in all its glory,

Free from pain, free from worry.

Things look different through the rain,

Lights resonate with warmth,

Trees bend and sway with grace,

Nay, this beauty will not wane.

There’s nothing quite as beautiful,

As believing having ne’er seen,

The good things the Lord has in store for us,

He has already quenched our thirst.

There’s nothing quite as beautiful,

As knowing life is beautiful,

Neither a desperate attempt at optimism,

Nor a penchant for altruism.

Life is beautiful,

Only because He is –

Beautiful.

The Pau and I.

Perhaps it was the cloudy, deliciously drowsy weather. Perhaps it was me being imbued by a wave of deep retrospection. Or perhaps it was the weather that caused the wave of profound retrospection.

But either way, the fact remains - just for today, I am entirely in love with steamy, spongy, ambrosial paus, smothered with heaps of hearty red bean paste. (I know, it's an overuse of food-licious adjectives but I just HAD to. Check this out to create your own string of food adjectives!) Eating that fluffy round ball of goodness was not so much of a hunger-satisfying experience. It went much deeper than that. It was almost - philosophical!

I shivered as a gust of wind swept past me. The rain was pouring down in sheets and the leaves hung on the boughs, trembling. Mr. Pau Seller smiled amiably as I exchanged the money in my hand for the pau. I clutched it tightly, cupping it in my hands as I contentedly made my way to my seat, scrumptious images playing in my mind. I smiled rather stupidly at the pau and I believe it grinned right back at me. Ironic actually - since it was about to be eaten. But then again, maybe it was honoured to be of service to me ;)

I slowly and deliberately peeled off the white layer around the pau and simultaneously, I felt the troubles of the day fade away into obscurity and I was drawn higher and higher, past the clouds to my own little unburstable bubble of Pau and I.

I've always believed that la nourriture vrai has never existed for the superficial purpose of filling one's tummy. It nourishes one's soul. As I sank my teeth into the luscious spread of nectarous red bean, it dawns upon me that the common passion most people have for food is quite justified. You see, good food is something that leaves you with an aftertaste so divine, something which warms you, thawing the sleets which envelop your soul on particularly bad days - freeing you to love again.

And that is the story of the magical moment my Pau and I shared. Maybe someday I'll write a book on The Philosophy of Perfectly Perfect Paus.