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Monday, 28 April 2008

Report: A Moment to Stop and Think

Sometimes, I really wonder if we have the time to stop and think in our busy lives. Though I don't think my life is that busy (what with using the computer the whole day long, only stopping to sleep or go to college), there's.... rarely a moment's peace for me. No time where I can stop to really look around me, to feel the wind on my face, or to stop for a while and let the world revolve around me for a few seconds or minutes.

I sometimes miss the times I could spend alone, when no one's in the house, and I'm up early for once while my grandmother goes out. I'd take my mug of milo and sit right at the doorstep of the house (while waiting for the computer to warm up, of course. I still am a computer addict), leaning against the doorframe and letting the sunlight wash over me. It reminds me of my secondary school times in the assembly area, where I'll be sitting and dreaming and staring at the sky while the teacher drones on about discipline or something. (no offence there, but I was a student you know...)

Going to college is somewhat of a hectic rush. You rush out of the house, rush to catch the train, then rush to class. I rarely stop anywhere, and even if I do, I stop by the pet shop to pet the rabbits, or the bookstand to grab a comic for only a minute or two, then I'm on my way again. But isn't that what life's all about now? Keep going, keep pushing, don't stop for anything or you'll fall behind. 'Life is a rat race', I think that's how the saying went. We're so busy we don't even have time to stop and think anymore. And it's sad, isn't it? We're losing our humanity because of it.

There was a chinese man sitting by the exit of the passage that led to the monorail today, and he had an Er Hu, a traditional Chinese cello-like instrument. It's from the string family of instruments and the melody is produced by a bow. He was playing classical chinese pieces today with the accompaniment of music coming from a small speaker beside him.

For a while, I just stopped and listened, intending to spend only a minute or two. But the one minute turned into five minutes as I watched the rise and fall of the bow, the dip and swell of the haunting voice of the Er Hu. Money was in a bag by the man's feet, but a sign he had put on the ground said that "he hoped people listening to his music would feel happy".

For those five minutes, I forgot the world around me, focusing entirely on the music. I usually listen to rock while walking so my footsteps match the beat of the song, hence I walk faster than normal and I end up in college in time to rest a bit before class starts. But today, I turned off my music and I listened. And while I listened, something stirred in me. I felt a bit sad that not many (me included) know how to play the instruments of their own culture and history, and that knowledge is only left to those old and refined people you see sitting at the coffee shops while drinking coffee in a group, reminiscing about the past.

For a while, I was taken back in time, scenes of ancient China I'd seen in movies or pictures playing in my mind. So as I stopped for a while and listened, I found that deep inside, I appreciated my roots and my culture, the Chinese girl that was in me, that was me, though I wear the clothes, talk and act like a Western girl. A tourist was standing across me, and he was listening to the man play with a smile on his face, as though enraptured by the song. I knew I stood there with the same expression mirrored on my face.

But things come to an end, and that five minutes passed, time returning to me. I was back in the hectic world of modern life, with people jostling around me to cross the road. Almost reluctantly, regretfully, I turned away, ready to get back on track from my little pit-stop. The crowd pushing and rushing, cigarette smoke in the air, cars zooming and blaring their horns, rock music blasting in my ears, the momentary peace was gone and I was back in mordern life.

But as I crossed the street and rode up the escalator to catch the monorail train, three things lingered in my mind.

The way the world stopped around me for a while.

The echoing strains of the Er Hu floating across the street and playing in my ears.

And the sway of the man's body as he followed the song, the small, secretive smile he gave that seemed a bit wistful to me, as though he was reminiscing something of the past, a memory neither you and I will know, personally belonging to him....

Still trying to transmute gold on 19:22

* JADE FIONA CROSS

The enigma of an authoress...

* Speak




* PULSE!



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