Contemplations 2: Ancient City of Ayutthaya. Thursday, 17.01.2010.

Weather: still mild.

Visited the ruins of Ayutthaya. I find it hard to reconcile the splendid city i saw in Sri Suriyothai with the poor, tumble-down houses now scattered in the formerly great city. Even sadder to know that Hongsa won the war in the end.

All i could think of, while wandering amidst broken towers of bricks, was 'Good, Lord, how on earth did they build these things?' and what sort of a war it must've been, for such a huge area to be torn down. here and there in the city you see a sudden bit of crumbling old wall labeled 'City Wall' and you know, once upon a time, these walls were the ones that kept the city's inhabitants safe within.

If modern man is great with all that he has, how much greater the man of old who made so much out of so little?

Tell me, how significant can a modern human being feel, standing next to these gargantuan edifices build by sweat and blood?

Some food for thought: the tour guide mentioned that monks (they're required to serve as monks for a certain period of time, all their men) enjoy watching sports, but arent allowed to watch ladies' gymnasticcs. too sexy. but if a monk's entire aim is to achieve the state where no earthly desires can bother him, what does it matter how sexy a woman is? why worry about temptation is you are beyond it?

On to the entertainments of the night.

Remember watching the dances of the previous night (of course you dont)?

On stage, all we see is a well prepared tale, narrated beautifully in a cultured voice, with all necessary characters and settings in place, rehearsed to run on time like a well wound clock.

This night, however, i watched not the dances, but was drawn into them; feeling the gentle rocking of a traditional barge, dancers twirling their fingers in the midst of the guests, simply adds on to the heady feeling that i'd felt as though i'd stepped a little bit back into time when royals enjoyed such entertainments. was it a little rush of excitement at watching hanuman chase after sita? while on stage, i felt a sort of detachment, as an audience watching a play, but to have hanuman prance before me, waving his, pardon me, ugly head about...

I watched those dancers slip into their costumes in a corner of the barge, simply because the barge was small and there was nowhere else for them to do so. an ordinary man and woman quickly throw on and tie different lengths of cloth, pin on trinkets, put on a mask. and behold, no longer mortal they be, but mythical princess and mighty deva.

How easy it is to switch personas. you simply step out of one into another, discarding each layer so easily. Such is the way of the stage.

But we do that in our lives, all the time, don't we?

Small wonder that we cry and laugh over what we see on stages and screens... do we recognize ourselves in art, even as it imitates life?

Or is it instead as Wilde would have it, the idea of life imitating art?

Contemplations 1: Bangkok, Wednesday, 16.01.2010.

Weather: mild, cloudy (to match a genial mood)

If ever i were amazed by art, this would most certainly be it.

Think: walls and ceilings covered in rich gilt (the guide assures me that its real gold), delicately set with tiny and tinier squares of glass, painstakingly carved wooden pillars etc, all handpainted in vibrant, glorious colour. (and lets not forget the brilliant wall canvas of scenes from the Ramayana painted onto, was it a 100 rooms of the Grand Palace? i forget. but breathtaking, nonetheless)

You see, they honour their king by building him marvelous palaces to represent his sovereignity (also having his portrait displayed in every conceivable place), because he is a symbol of the country they love, and in doing him homage they honour the country he stands for.

If ever i were awed by the love a people have for their country, this country would be a shining example of it.

I can feel the love of the people pouring out of the shining walls of their palaces, their temples, out of every soft 'sawatdee', and mostly, how sincerly polite and helpful they are to everyone, not just those who have yellow hair and white skin.

I watched a simple tour guide stoop down to pick up a milk box that a careless tourist'd tossed onto the palace grounds and put it in the bin. such a simple thing, really, but so profound.

With that, i can only conclude that the thai love their country very, very much. through the peoples' actions a country is reflected, and i can safely say that they have managed to honour their country in the highest degree, simply by showing courtesy and respect to others and therefore giving a good impression of themselves, and anything associated with them. something, unfortunately, that my own countrymen and women (never say i am sexist) lacks the ability to do.

It's only been my first day in Bangkok, but as you see, i've already found so many things malaysians could do well to learn from.

First of ALL: i would like to emphasize on the astonishment i felt on stepping out of the sky train (their version of our LRTs) to be greeted with a sea of people, neatly arranged in lines, all waiting for their turn to enter the big worm. no pushing, no shoving, no queue-jumping.

I am in awe. and in absolute disgust for my country people, who cannot so much as enter a doorway without some degree of pushing or squeezing.

Second: POLITE cab drivers! an absolute rarity in the bloody mess of roads that is kay elle, but seemingly common in bangkok. you definitely do not get any cabbies in kay elle deigning to open car doors for you.

Having said all that, i shall move on.

Visited a gem factory today, and by all accounts, it is under royal patronage. i watched several of the workmen at their craft, and i have to marvel that their rough, big fingers and primitive tools could create such delicate work. there was this craftsman moulding a flower on a stub of wood, slowly hammering away till he'd gotten the perfect shape, then hammering pinpricks into the surface, and painstakingly lay gold dots into them.

But how many of these craftsmen were there? three? four? precious few to continue what seems to be a dying art. while i am infinitely grateful for mass-produced costume jewelry (otherwise how would we all afford any?), it breaks my heart to think of how technology robs us of many traditional ways.

Still, while danger of repeating a cliche, i can only say, such is life, i suppose.

Intermission IV: postcountdown: hail, 2010.

just yesterday afternoon someone i know well (and who probably knows me better than i like) told me, 'you're still young, go enjoy!' when i made a face and said i aint a big fan of clubbing.

'fun'=clubbing? maybe in your glitzy world, not mine. (so said from yours truly's own personal experience from last new year's countdown after getting splashed with beer and squeezed off a dance floor by a grind-happy couple =.=)

a bit silly to ask, but i'm wondering what i'll be getting out of this year?

nice lecturers, definitely (especially after that fiasco last semester). and nice team mates (also after several fiascos last semester). and nice assignments (still from that fiasco last semester). and more good books. more new discoveries, more...

heck, when did this turn into a wishlist?

i wonder how many roadblocks there'll be this time? the beginning of this year signifies several endings for me; endings that're coming all too soon. unfortunately also, my head's swimming with ideas and sort-of plans i'd dearly love to carry out, except for the buts... never mind. i'm rambling.

for once, i dont have much to say, anymore. just that, at this moment, i'm only aware of a strangely positively, optimistic bent in my demeanor, something sweet and warm, something full of hope and lightness, and right now, its lifting me up high, higher than i should be for someone who'd liken facing the unknown to standing on the edge of a precipice on tippytoes (and who'd view the ravine with trepidation).

oh, and that warm, sweet feeling? its called Faith.