My September weekend

I had a good weekend, better than the weekends that came before because after a long time, I am finding my sense of purpose. It was a little emotional as I am still trying to straighten out my curly internal conflicts and not get into any more conflicts while I'm doing this. Ever since I've come back from Perth, I feel like I've entered some sort of whirlwind, where I'm just moving in circles, and not in one direction but many, getting pulled and pushed along until I get lost, the strong wind carrying me and placing me somewhere unknown. It is funny how we wouldn't go somewhere foreign without a map but we fail to 'map' out or lives and specify goals and dreams unfulfilled. Friday evening finally came, a long-awaited night although the week had passed very quickly. I had been out everyday, there were many things going on in good ol' KL, like the KL Design Week which coincided with the London version (but it would be unfair to compare the two, surely). I felt like my mind was opening slowly but surely with all the new things I saw. I was fortunate enough to catch an audio-visual feat, created by the Light Surgeons on Wednesday and a series of images from local designers and artists at the KL Pecha Kucha Night that took place earlier on Monday. It was a powerful thing to imagine that this event started off in Japan and spread like wildfire to so many other countries in a few years. I would think there's no harm in looking elsewhere for inspiration, especially when it comes to life. On Thursday, I finished researching for a shopping survey I had to do for the new publication coming up in my company. I have to catch up on my writing since I've been out everyday of the office, but I reckon it was all worth it, especially when Friday did finally appear. I had tickets to watch Ahmed Ahmed, the dishy American-Egyptian comedian who liked to put on his Middle Eastern accent. It took some time to finally get to the ballroom where he was scheduled to perform, thanks to the wonderful mechanisms of Kuala Lumpur jam and my impeccable perception of time. I was the default driver (am looking into retiring soon or at least charging for petrol) and picked up the boys. We reached nearly half an hour after the scheduled time but thanks to GMT (General Malaysian Timing), the show had not started yet. It was a strange crowd, a mix of the eager media people, triumphantly smirking at getting free tickets and the glitzy VIPS who had perfect hair and six inch heels. I gaped rudely with my mouth hanging slightly open at the sight of the rich and famous. What is it about them that instantly reduces you to feel so self-conscious about your own slightly-lesser 3-inch heels and not so slight disheveled hair? Is it the bored, glazed and jaded look on their face, or is it the fact that they're so good-looking, you immediately feel an instant wave of ugliness? It is this prickle of inequality and that split second where you wish you too could experience the plush interior of a shiny silver Peugeot and walk down the hallways of Hilton in your silk bathrobe. Studies have shown that the less equal a society, the more crime, social ills and problems that occur in said society. If the average middle class could feel that painful prick of inequality, imagine what the invisible below the poverty line must feel. But all was forgotten when the lights went out and the comedians took the stage. This comic talent is one to be taken seriously, as I do feel that comic men and women are one of the sharpest observers of human beings. They would be a gold mine to sociologists, in my opinion. I laughed much stress and pain away and it felt good. I didn't even feel shitty for cancelling a planned bus tour the next morning because I think I needed the sleep I got Saturday afternoon - I lazed in my faded Backstreet Boys t-shirt (hey, they're still better than N'SYNC okay?) and didn't shower until 7p.m. It was a quiet night out with dinner at Restoran Ismail for the briyani and more lazing at Ash's house. Sunday morning, I woke up at 6.15a.m and thought I was dreaming. I have not been up this early in a long time and even though I only had 3 hours of sleep, I miraculously made it out of the house and was on the way to plant trees along the riverbanks of Shah Alam. Now, Shah Alam is not the kind of place one would recommend a person, tourist or local to go. The roads are complicated and for some reason, they seem to love roundabouts there. I have spent a good portion of my life at these roundabouts, going round and round to buy time to figure out which exit to take. The riverbank however, had its own charm and imagining all the trees blossoming and sprouting right by the surprisingly clean river made me smile. I wasn't sure what to expect with planting trees, having never picked up a shovel in my life so I was surprised that it was actually quite a simple process if you remembered what to do. We were given a demonstration and were told that it would be easier without gloves. Seeing other people getting their hands dirty made me think that it wouldn't be so bad. This was until I remembered that there are other species on the planet, like pretty centipedes and graceful worms (I'm trying to be polite but yea, I screamed like a bitch when I saw the worm wiggling out of some soil nearby). Having said that, the moment my hands touched the dirt was a memorable one. It felt like I was about to nurture something important and give life to an otherwise empty grass lot. I imagined a strong majestic tree with deep green leaves that would reach out and hug me when I came back to visit. Many of the holes were deep and filled with water which we had to drain out so that the soil wouldn't be too soft to pack in. Then it was all about clenching fistfuls of soil and leveling it into the hole. The young tree was then gently un-freed from its black wraparound and placed into the middle of the hole, with infant TLC. The hole was then covered with more soil and fertilizer, all the better to feed nutrients to this growing life form and then we moved on to the next hole, repeating the process again. I was sure that at some point there was sand falling into inappropriate places on my body and we couldn't scratch the itch with our soiled hands but it was an extremely healing experience. I had, without thinking, invited friends on Facebook to this event, not even considering that anyone would show up - but two actually did! It was a very pleasant surprise and a welcome change to my usual routine. I really needed a weekend like this and maybe with a bit more healing, the conflict will lose its flow altogether. Here's to dreams unfulfilled because no one said you couldn't create new goals and look forward to everything else.