Boyband nostalgia

I was – and admittedly, still am – a huge fan of Backstreet Boys and Westlife. There, I’ve said it. And if there were any concerts in the near future, I will confess too, that I will not hesitate to buy tickets. Oh gosh. I feel like such a silly fangirl now.

The past few days, I’ve been listening to a lot of old BSB hits from the 90s era. Ah, the memories. As I was singing along to those sappy, cheesy lyrics, a somber thought came to me: that these songs now evoke different feelings. As naive young girls growing up in that pop-saturated era, where MTV was filled with endless videos of such songs, these songs had once seemed to tell of some fairytale romance that any impressionable teenager will obsess over.

Now as we move into adulthood, I think we’ve seen that real life isn’t the fairytale dreams that you probably once harboured in your hearts. So ten years later, I still listen to these songs, but no longer with a lovestruck, dreamy outlook or carefree innocence of childhood. We all have to grow up someday.

But hey, ten years later, both of my favourite boybands are still together (albeit each is less a member now)! And I still enjoy revisiting musical memory lane, listening to these songs from the 90s and early 2000s, every now and then. But the sands of time has carved imprints and etched scars upon the guilelessness of the young heart, and the songs no longer evoke emotional fantasies, but merely amusing memories of a naivety long past.

Limbo.

I’m now twenty-two, but I don’t feel as if I’ve grown any older – twenty-two gives a sense of being in a limbo; it’s the apathetic place between the excitement of official adulthood and the agony of official “I’m OLDDDD”. First of August could have just come and gone, and I wouldn’t have felt any distress over the passing of it.

Of course, the details that you want to know: it was a simple, quiet birthday spent with Yon How – we went shopping in the afternoon at Westfield (where we found excellent deals on jeans, and I really needed new jeans!), and dinner was a lovely home-cooked affair at his place (he cooked! ), and then we watched a movie together. (Match Point – I thought it was a good film. Interesting plot that toys with the concept of luck. Towards the end, I was like, “Oooooh, so that’s why it’s called Match Point!” =P Thought that it was quite well-done, in spite of the unconventional ending, where one would expect justice to prevail and all that – but then it HAD to end like that to do justice to the whole concept it was trying to bring across, right?)

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LIMBO (n.)

… c : an intermediate or transitional place or state d : a state of uncertainty

In many ways, I suppose this year, and next year especially will be a limbo for me. Okay, maybe not next year (things might change then), but at this moment, yes, definitely a limbo. I almost don’t dare to think about my future beyond graduation in December 2010. There’s just too many questions and uncertainties. But at this moment, I can say that I am ready to graduate by next year, because frankly, four years into this double degree, I’ve almost had enough of uni life, and want to get a job and not depend on my parents anymore. But the me a year ago would not have want to graduate yet. Three years, on the other hand, is too short. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m in this five-year course after all. Haha.

Having said that, I’m actually really enjoying this semester – it’s the best combination of subjects I’ve chosen so far, and I’m really enjoying every one of it! There are two English Lit, one Pol. Science and one Music. The readings are intensive, and although it’s only the third week, I’m already feeling the weight of the tons of readings and preparation I have to do every week (on top of other commitments). The English subjects might be enjoyable, but I’m still shaking my head at the way Lit subjects are structured – although this may very well be the norm for other universities as well – seriously, one book per week?!? We’re barely brushing the surface of the goldmines in each text. I actually really miss the meaningful analyses and heavy discussions that come from in-depth readings on each book that should span at least a good few weeks. One-hour tutorials each week do not do justice.

Anyway, before I get carried away on that discourse – I finally had my piano lessons with my new teacher! He’s what I expected from all that my friends have told me about him, so no huge shocks. Today had only been the second lesson, but I feel like I’ve learnt so much in that short span of time. I’m quite excited about the piano again, for the first time in a very long time. It’s a feeling that I haven’t had in a while – the feeling that, “Yes, I can do this after all”, the sense of wanting to accomplish something great, and knowing that it’s not impossible after all. I’m actually enjoying practicing again. I’m falling in love with the piano all over again, and I’m rediscovering that joy of learning and soaking up everything that I’m being taught. The night before, I was Youtubing songs that I might potentially be studying, and just listening and watching these world-famous pianists performing was inspiring. I’m just … speechless now.

I’m out of words. Haha. But yes, I’m enjoying this semester, and all the books I’m studying for the Lit subjects; the eye-opening and intellectually stimulating Politics subject; and the fun and interesting Music subject. And the joy of the piano all over again.

This may be a limbo for me, but I’m determined to get the most out of all the opportunities I have – right here, right now, and to do the best I can.

The way forward is upward

An SMS from my friend A reminded me about the “pact” we made before the semester ended – I won’t go into details, but suffice it to say, we decided with much determination that we would both begin piano lessons again, with the goals of getting our diplomas (AMusA for her, and LRSM for me).

I had already obtained the phone number of my prospective teacher from another friend who is studying under him now, way back in the semester and it’s just been left lying in my phone memory for more than two months now. After much consideration for most of first semester, it finally boiled down to two teachers, and after talking to two friends who are studying under both teachers, I decided to go with this one.

So with much trepidation, I took my phone and scrolled to his phone number – and hesitated again. What was I afraid of? Why am I still holding back even now? I glanced upwards and saw the “verse for the month” that was on my calendar – “In quietness and trust is Your strength” (Isaiah 30:15).

Okay, God, I will trust You.

One reason why I was feeling so much apprehension was because my friend had mentioned that he is a very busy teacher and might not be able to take on any more students, given his schedule. Already from the start, I didn’t see any reason to hold high hopes.

With that verse in mind and reminding myself that I’ll never know unless I try, I pressed the green button, full of resolution. The phone rang for quite a while, and I felt my resolution slowly eroding. Suddenly he picked up, and my heart raced, but sounding very busy and hasty, he asked me to call him back in ten minutes as he was on the phone with someone else at the moment. I was too agitated to feel anything else, so “Oh, okay” and hung up.

I sat back in my chair.

For some reason, I felt compelled to turn to my Bible and read the verse in context – it’s also a habit of mine to read the context of individual verses that strike me. And chapter 30 struck me immediately – hard – because it talked about the Israelites’ penchant for always going back to Egypt and relying on her.

Exodus accounts much of the Israelites’ complaints after they left Egypt and how they grumbled to Moses about wanting to return – yes, return to a miserable existence as lowly slaves where life was so hard. They escaped Egypt for the promises of a better life, but when hardships come, they wanted to return to that comfort zone – that bubble of comfort, where at least they knew what to expect. But is that really the best place for us to be?

I think we’re like that in so many ways – enslavened in a situation or circumstance until we no longer recognize it for what it is, and we forget. There will be moments of ‘enlightenment’ when we open our eyes to see that we need to break that bubble, but then something happens, and we retreat back into that false security and sink deeper into that abyss of self-inflicted misery.

I think I’m like that.

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But as I read that chapter, I knew that I had to break free, once and for all. I can’t keep looking back to that place of regrets and self-pity which can become such familiar but destructive ‘friends’.

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I looked at the time – about ten minutes had already passed -

To my surprise, my phone rang – he had called back instead! I picked it up quickly and introduced myself, et cetera and The Question: Will I be able to have lessons with you?

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And then:

…pretty packed at the moment, but I should be able to squeeze you in.

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*indescribable moment*

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I won’t be able to begin straightaway since he’s away in Sydney for the next two weeks to adjudicate a competition and perform a recital, but I was to call him back when second semester begins again to confirm lessons. In the meantime, he gave me a few pieces to work on. I felt excited and eager and scribbled everything he said on a piece of paper.

The phone call ended and I stood there for a moment, feeling exhilarated as I grasped onto that second chance that I felt I have been given again, and feeling so grateful.

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For the first time in a long time, I finally feel like I have a purpose again.

Early Autumn

They don’t make songs like these anymore. Amazing lyrics, and sublime music, matched by a divine voice.

(Music by Ralph Burns and Woody Herman; words by the great Johnny Mercer.)

When an early autumn walks the land and chills the breeze,
And touches with her hand the summer trees,
Perhaps you’ll understand
What memories I own.

There’s a dance pavilion in the rain all shuttered down,
A winding country lane all russet brown,
A frosty window pane
Shows me a town grown lonely.

That spring of ours that started so April hearted seemed made for just a boy and girl.

I never dreamed, did you, any fall would come in view so early, early?

Darling, if you care please let me know,
I’ll meet you anywhere
I miss you so,
Let’s never have to share another early autumn.

Woody Herman has a great interpretation of the song as well. This era was just so rich with such splendid jazz standards as this; mainstream music today leaves me shaking my head and wondering where the great has gone.

C.S. Lewis Song

It’s funny how the lyrics of a song can come up behind you and catch you unawares.

*

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy, I can only conclude that I was not made for here. If the flesh that I fight is at best only light and momentary, then of course I’ll feel nude when to where I’m destined I’m compared.

Speak to me in the light of the dawn; mercy comes with the morning. I will sigh and with all creation groan as I wait for hope to come for me.

Am I lost or just less found? On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way? Is this a soul that stirs in me, is it breaking free, wanting to come alive? ‘Cos my comfort would prefer for me to be numb, and avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become.

For we, we are not long here – our time is but a breath, so we better breathe it.

And I,

I was made to live,

I was made to love,

I was made to know You.

Hope is coming for me,

Hope, He’s coming.