When you’re young, you think that persevering is difficult, but the true test in life is actually letting go.

The business that I took over in 2019 started going downhill at the beginning of 2022. I persevered for the entire year of 2022, giving myself only 3 months of minimum salary. I took on extra jobs to make ends meet. I pushed, and pushed, and pushed. I was really struggling to keep the business afloat. It was like treading water in the middle of the sea. It was physically and mentally draining, but I persisted. Finally, I made the decision to sell it. It was sold in February this year, but I continued working for it. It continued to take from me as I continued to gain nothing from it. This went on until today. Today, I announced that I had sold the company 5 months ago.

It took me 1.5 years to learn to let go. 1.5 years at great personal cost. Was it worth it? I don’t know.

I don’t think we’ll ever grow sick of poems, quotes, or videos telling us to live a little braver, a little brighter, a little weirder because we’re all so afraid of stepping out of line. I think our desire to belong, to fit in, has effectively smothered our unique fires. Sure, there’s good reason for that, especially in classrooms and in society, but that leaves us grappling with “What does it all mean?”, “Who am I?”, “What should life be, for me?” So, be brave and take risks. Be brave to dare to try and live more than just a 9 to 5 lifestyle. Try, try against all forces, to make it yours. Live so hard and so fiercely that you won’t want to turn back the clock. You have this one life. It’s yours. Celebrate it.

An old community centre

Fibrous with wood and wire

Torn from wall to wall, retired.

As I get older, deaths sit in the same calendar boxes as births; remembrance grows with celebrations.

On this day,

I wrote, selfied, and

Deleted.

My career had a plot twist about 3 weeks back. My foray (back) into the corporate world was cut short, and I’m focusing on teaching now. I met the change with surprise, some upset, and then equanimity. I thought it might be fated after all. Perhaps it was a waste of time to “take a break” from what was and is my passion - teaching. If the company had not changed my contract, I could have wasted half a year or more doing things that are irrelevant to my calling. This might be fate moving me in the right direction.

I was inclined to think it was fate because I had met a fortune teller in March who sort of foretold my situation. Now, I’m hardly a superstitious person, but I’m not a complete skeptic. The fortune teller, a numerologist, mentioned that my life/career would change dramatically when I turn 33 (plus/minus 6 months). He said, “It would be hard for you to find a full-time job. Your work will be part-time, freelance or project-based.” At that time, I was holding a full-time job, so I didn’t believe him. Now, it seems like his prediction has come true. But of course, I could easily find another full-time position and “overturn” his prediction. Who knows?

Young green mangoes

Swollen, round, expectant

Dangling jewels in a tropical dream

My little girl giggles in her sleep.

Is she dreaming of the puddles she jumped in?

Or the stray cats we heard meowing?

Or is she dreaming of other things that

stretch far beyond her memories?

If so, she is lucky,

for the richest of us giggles in our sleep.

I’ve come in a thousand forms to you,

as a raindrop grazing your cheek,

as a bubble dancing by on your way home,

as a little bark, by the cutest pup, and

as the forgotten smell of our last vacation.

I’ve greeted you a thousand times to

tell you just how much I still love you.

If ever you feel that AI might come

To rob us of our lives, then read, watch, touch,

Feel, kiss, hug, and cry,

And laugh, and dance, and shout!

It can never be us - waves and waves of

Feeling and inspiration,

Chaos, utter chaos!

Creation, light, misery

They’re ours and no machine can ever,

ever take them away.

The Backdrop of Our Family Photos:

Colourful patterned couch

On the old piano, pictures of our late grandmas and

An urn holding our old dog’s bones.

Magazines, newspapers, advertisements stacked

For the old rag and bone man.

Items - hairclips, toys, and food - scattered here and there

In their right places, all

In their right places, home.

1st of June arrives

Wet, grey, and slow

Splish splash, splish splash, splish splash

A writer described Amour (2012) as a depiction of the horrors of physical decline in old age, and she isn’t wrong. Even through the rose-tinted glasses of youth, the pain and suffering of the elderly couple felt raw, visceral, and intimate. But I can imagine the same situation being quite different in my culture where families are closer, even as adult children raise their own families. There’s a lot more support (or perhaps I’m lucky) where grandparents help with childcare, and adult children help with caring for the old.

In the closing scene of The Whale (2022), Charlie, a morbidly obese man, stands erect without his walking aid. This is the first and last time the audience sees him on a full scale. It is ugly, shocking, but powerful. He shuffles towards his estranged daughter, who finally calls him “daddy.” Before he reaches her, he begins to float, and his face becomes illuminated by white light. The film ends.

The depiction of weightlessness suggests that he is free from guilt and suffering, while white light suggests hope and redemption. As the story focuses on the perils of blind faith and religious trauma, the choice of an angelic ending is interesting.

The Whale (2022) opens with a close-up shot of a laptop screen - rectangular, impersonal, distanced. The camera zooms in on the singular black box in the middle of the Zoom video meeting. It says “Instructor,” but there is no mystery as to who he is; the audience knows he is the protagonist of the story. Soon, we see him, Charlie, in his apartment seated on the sofa. This apartment is the stage for this story. Charlie never leaves.