The Happy Hours of Life

I decided to blog from Chilli's, at Citta Mall today. Initially I had wanted to sit outdoors but that section was closed and so I settled in into the cool-comfort of high-table seat inside.  These are my thoughts today, in between sips of the house red wine and spoonfuls of their nice spicy beef soup.

I'm looking forward to a new phase of life next year when I should be able to pursue more of my personal projects instead of being tied down to a nine-to-five job. That was how I used to live before the pandemic, but I had chosen to take a regular work-from-home job out of curiosity during the Covid lock-down. Having been out of the corporate rat-race for more than a decade, I wanted to find out more about the tools and processes used by multinationals today.

 I did learn a lot from the stint but I also found that the experience of getting regular income, with all the executive perks had diminished my appetite for risks. I needed to cast myself out into the world again, to regain my survival instincts. Fate, apparently has conspired in such a way that the opportunity for such an adventure has opened up again. The question is: do I still have what it takes to regain my old touch?

My mental agility and acumen, I'd like to believe, is as good as ever, if not better. There are certain advantages that age bestows upon us: most notably, wisdom. One's youth is often blessed with a lot of energy; but unfortunately they are also wasted on foolish endeavours. But then again, it is also the foolhardiness of youth that brings out the sage of later years.

The bane of advancing age is cynicism. One should be very careful with the preponderance of pessimism that often accompanies the onset of years. Often it is simply a defensive stance taken by us to deflate the enthusiastic endeavours of the young, simply to shield us against the pain of our exclusion.

Cognisant of our tendency to hide behind the veneer of respectability that comes with age, I am always reminding myself of the idealisms which had forged my growing years. How different am I today, compared to who I was 20 years or even 30 years ago?

One thing's for sure: my appetite for knowledge has never diminished. I would even say that it has intensified.  This lust for understanding has surpassed all other yearnings that are of the flesh and I see that as a positive development. 

Like the Gnostics, I truly believe that salvation is to be found via Gnosis, or knowledge of the divine, which one has to pursue not only with the yielding softness of faith, but also the bold thrusts of reason and intellect. Knowledge is indeed power but can this subtle power be transformed into a force that moves and moulds the material world?

Does one inevitably seek a blissful retreat from the world for fear of not being able to stomach its vicissitudes? These are the ruminations that occupy my mind on this hot Saturday afternoon,  perched behind a high-table in a TexMex restaurant. Do I still possess the tang and spice of my passionate youth? Or has all that been distilled into the wine-like essence of maturity?

I don't know. Since, it's already 3pm now, I shall continue mulling over them with some Happy Hour beers. 

Music-woven Memories

Another Saturday afternoon in Cyberjaya: I'm listening to some of my old CDs while typing these lines, with a pot of Al Kbous tea brewing beside me. It has been an eventful week at work, events which have interesting repercussions for the future. But I guess I've been through such situations many times before in the past.  

But let's come back to my CD collection. Rummaging through my storage boxes, I realised that I have quite a number of movie soundtracks albums: The English Patient, The Lover, Somewhere in Time, Havana, Out of Africa,The Matrix Reloaded among others. Listening to them brings back happy memories of those particular times in my life. 

The English Patient is one of my favourite movies, one which I never tire of rewatching. It reminds me of that time in my life when I was a bit of a wanderer, travelling to Indonesia every other week from Singapore, enjoying both the solitude and friendships forged during my many sojourns. I saw the movie multiple times in the theatre when it was running. And it never ceases to tear me up every time I watch it.

The Lover is a movie released in 1992, starring Leung Kar Fai and Jane March, based on the French autobiographical novel, L'Amant by Maguerite Duras. The composer for the music in both The English Patient and The Lover is Gabriel Yared, one of my favourite movie soundtrack composers, together with Ennio Morricone and Vangelis. 

Like many other arty erotic movies, The Lover was panned by critics when it was released, but I think they ignored the fact that it was a very well-made movie with great cinematography and music. Both elements combined well to evoke the passionate yet ultimately hopeless love story between a French teenager and a wealthy Chinese man in colonial Vietnam. 

I didn't get to catch the Lover in the theatres as this being an R-rated movie, was not released in Malaysia then, but I managed to catch it on VHS tape, and later read the English translation of Mageurite Duras' book.  Like the English Patient, I consumed and enjoyed all 3 media--movie, music and literature for these works, giving me a complete experience them.

The soundtrack of Havana reminds me of the Rex cinema, where I watched the movie three times on 3 consecutive afternoons in 1990. This movie basically rips off the plot of Casablanca,  setting it in Havana instead. It is love triangle between a gambler, played by the recently departed Robert Redford and Lena Olin, playing the wife of a communist revolutionary, Arturo Duran, played by Raul Julia. 

Again, this is another widely-panned movie, which for some reason I love to bits. I think it captured the excitement and romance of a love story set against the backdrop of the Cuban revolution.  I only managed to get the soundtrack album when I was in Singapore, a decade later. 

Perhaps I am a sucker for romance set in exotic locations. Out of Africa, again starring Robert Redford is another example. The soundtrack music was composed by John Barry, whose most famous creation is the iconic James Bond theme. 

Out of Africa is based on a memoir by Danish author Karen Blixen, who published the book under the pen name Isak Dinesen. In many ways, the movie pushed all the right buttons in me by having all the elements that I'm fond of: exotic locations set in the colonial era, travel, books, music, literature and even featured a fountain pen, in a scene where Redford's character gives his personal pen to Blixen (played by Meryl Streep), encouraging her to write down her stories, which she had so skilfully conjured and narrated extemporaneously over dinner. 

Writing about all these movies makes me want to rewatch them again. Memories are woven into our minds by music. Just a few notes from any one of their themes will immediately open a floodgate of sights, sounds and feelings,  transporting me again to those days when I was a much freer soul. Perhaps, it's time I explore the same freedom again...