Singing in the Rain

Am wet from the drizzle and high from listening to Greg, Declan and Chris cavort and caper about on our way back from the city. It was Chris's 20th, so we did the customary dinner and outing thing, and they did the usual get a little bit tipsy thing. And then they wanted karaoke, so that's how we ended up at some decidedly seedy little bar called the Charlatans while Chris and Greg and Declan sang their little hearts out and Lauren and I watched from the sidelines. And admittedly, laughed.

Declan got really into it, and that was funny. He sings well, and he does the whole emotional audience 'I'm-an-entertainer-and-I'm-entertaining' thing very well. Very camp, but everyone enjoys it. Greg gets really into it as well, and Chris, despite his usual retiring self, was equally as enthusiastic, despite possibly being less loud compared to the other two.

By the time we got out, it was drizzling and the trams had stopped. We walked back to college, and then the guys decided to walk on the tram lines, which are in the middle of the road. It was quite the Sgt. Pepper scene. Five individuals linking hands and walking (well, one of us was merrily skipping) down the tram lines. And singing on top of our lungs. Well, the boys were anyway. What a strange sight we must have made.

On another note, I just had to share what I learnt in a lecture yesterday. We had a lecture on AIDS and HIV (which incidentally, was an awesome lecture, I was moved to tears), and the lecturer was stressing about how it was a devastating disease and a growing epidemic throughout the world. And because it was a medical lecture, he did the whole social implications that come with the physiological breakdown of the body thing.

What I found interesting, and frankly, unexpected, was when he presented a slide that showed the proportion of AIDS and HIV in the world. It wasn't so much the countries that had AIDS, but the countries that didn't. Countries like Iran, and Iraq, and Egypt, and Indonesia. The rates of HIV were practically non-existent. And then the lecturer said, it was because of Islam.

Apparently, the practice of circumcision acts as a protective factor to being infected by the HIV virus. For the scientifically inclined, the foreskin of the penis has receptors that are the only mode of entry for this virus. Through circumcision, where the foreskin is removed, this eliminates the mode of entry for the virus by sexual transmission. How cool is that? Yet another mystery of the Quran explained.

Fasting in A College Environment

I remember how long the days seemed to stretch when I was a kid. Long days which seemed to test my patience as I fasted those early years. How I would constantly watch the clock's hands and eagerly turn on the television to listen to the muezzin's call, symbolizing the end of the fast.

Here in Australia, the days stretch even longer, but my patience has grown throughout the years. I barely feel the need for food, can unblinkingly watch people eat the most tempting of foods in front of me without the slightest twinge of temptation, and still have the energy to do most things.

It's interesting fasting in an environment where mealtimes are set, and Muslims are a minority. In this college community, where there is a grand total of 3 Muslims out of the 300 plus individuals we have here, I am very much in the minority. My friends are very interested in what we do at the moment, a concept so alien to them. Ramadhan; the month of fasting.

The kitchen lady calls it our 'famine'. My friends have started referring to times in relation to when I can or cannot eat. Sometimes they forget and are mortified, but I assure them that I don't begrudge them at all. After all, it is new and strange to them. I enjoy explaining to people about the experiences I go through as a Muslim. Many of my friends are now aware of Ramadhan, and are all the more interested in listening to my accounts of it.

I had no idea the extent of college awareness was until I sat down for dinner the other night. I had 5 minutes till I could break fast and I had my food in front of me, prepared for the breaking of fast. The sun was still out, although it was sinking fast. On the way from the kitchen to the dining hall, no less than three people commented on my food. I was amazed when one of them reminded me I had 5 minutes to go. It's quite amusing, in a way, to think that I am being supported by the many Ormondions who are aware of it. As a matter of fact, Charlie even threatened to come and police my eating. The concern and support is overwhelming.

Despite the support, it's strange fasting in this environment though. I wake up to eat Sahur alone in my room. I roll over as my alarm rings, groggily munch through a couple of pieces of bread, and drink a glass of water before rolling back to sleep. A far cry from the days we would eat as a family back home, and my sister and I would continue eating up to the very second we could.

And dinner. I usually have to have late dinners now, while my friends are almost finished with their meals. I have taken to going to dinner with everyone else, purely for the company, until fast breaks. It is different from the almost festive atmosphere of fast breaking back home, where I would follow my parents to the Ramadhan bazaar and sample to my heart's content from the tempting array of food the bazaar had to offer.

It is also so much different fasting in an environment where individuals aren't exposed to the culture of fasting. My friends have adapted fast, learning to make plans after fast breaking and finally learning that I am not offended when they forget I am fasting. Ramadhan here is strange and new and yet, just as easy as any other Ramadhan I have gone through.

Perhaps the support I have received has made it easier, despite my friends having never experienced fasting month before. And perhaps, it's just God's way of making things easier for me. Perhaps it's because Ramadhan itself is a holy month. In any case, I feel physically and mentally prepared for the rest of the month.

Bittersweet Nights

This weekend flew by. Bittersweet.

Ormond College had it's Valedictory Dinner on Friday night. It was an emotionally charged night for me. It marked, quite possibly, my last formal event in Ormond as a college student. I wish I could stay, but circumstances suggest otherwise. I think Hugh picked up on my underlying emotional state as well, and kept telling me how sad it was. I'm going to miss not being that boy's neighbour anymore. I think the one regret I have about being a college student this year is not doing more. As I listened to the awards being given, and the speeches, and the contributions to college people had done, I felt regret that I didn't do more. Regret because I knew I was capable of making a difference. And regret that I didn't.

I had doubts about making it to the smoko that night. I definitely did have doubts. It was the first night of Ramadhan. Where most Muslims would be spending the night doing tarawih prayers, I would be spending a large portion at a party. A party where the alcohol would be free flowing, where the boundaries of a Muslim's limits would be tested.

I went because it was quite possibly the last smoko I'd attend as a college student. Despite the internal conflict I went through, I made the decision to attend that smoko. I had the normal amount of fun as I usually do, although this time round, my enjoyment was tinged with sadness. I'm glad I did, because I was there to say my goodbyes, in a way. I'm glad I did, because I knew I wouldn't be able to re-live these days, days of my wildness and my freedom and my lack of responsibilities. I'm glad I did, because I was able to be there with Molly when she broke down over him.

Too old, too jaded, too fast.

Both Hugh and Liz had friends over, so a large part of the weekend was spent on going out. Those late nights, minimal sleep, taxing activities.. When we dropped by Hugh's room so he could pick up his wallet, and I dodged into my room to get mine, it didn't surprise me to find everyone sprawled all over the room in various positions, asleep. They were so incredibly exhausted from the activities of the weekend that they had just literally fallen asleep on the floor, the chair, the bed and wherever else they could find room to lie down on.

I guess all that partying caught up with them in the end. I had a quiet night in, that night, spending it curled up with a book.

They recovered in time for Pickenfest on Sunday, though. Pickenfest is a huge, outdoor concert held in Ormond, and performed by Ormondians. It's an awesome deal, because Ormond is a college that places huge emphasis on music, and there are heaps of talented musicians in college, as evidenced by the amazing performances we had yesterday. The turnout was huge, helped out by the amazing weather, and the free food and drink.

Oh what challenges a fasting Muslim goes through. Sigh. The free fairy floss had me drooling, and watching everyone grab for the free pizza and Red Bull was tempting me. I found it easier than I thought I would have, though. I just concentrated on the music, and had a great day despite all the obstacles I had to face.

I will miss all this.

Weather Highs Equal to Beach Days

Melbourne and it's fluctuating weather. Only in Melbourne would you get a high of 32 with blue skies and sunshine one day, and 17 with cold showers the next. Hmph.

The advantages of being a uni student, sometimes, is the freedom to go where the wind takes you. On that marvelous golden day, when we were struck with the urge to hit the beach, we upped and went. No questions asked. No long and lengthy contemplation, no quibbling about timing, no questions. We just went.

Even more fun was the fact that we literally went where the wind took us. The choice of the designated beach spot was totally random, influenced only by the tram that passed by us. And there we were, four uni students in our beach gear and towels, on a tram we had never been on before. We had been on the tram for 15 minutes before I asked the fateful question.

"Does anyone know where we're supposed to get off?"

Blank stares. Shrugs.

One of my worst habits is the need to be in control of everything. I swear, I'm a tad bit obsessive compulsive. I always worry about being on time, I need to know what plans we're making ahead of time, and I always need to know that everyone has a vague idea of the place we're headed to.

The fact that no one knew where we were going, how we were getting there, and that this was all a generally very unplanned excursion did not sit well. However, as I was getting antsy and contemplating making my way through the packed tram to the front in order to ask the driver for directions, Liz pointed out the most welcome sight I could have seen at that moment.

Glistening blue waters and white sands ahead. South Melbourne Beach.

It wasn't a bad beach, to my surprise. I baked in the sun, quite happily, with my lecture notes and my camera, while Liz, Hugh and James splashed around in the cold waters. It was a great day, including my narrow escape from James' and Hugh's intention of bodily picking me up and unceremoniously dumping me in the water. We laughed, we ate ice cream in the sun, I walked along the waves lapping on the shore and took videos.

We had an awesome time. And it felt all the more amazing for the fact that it was just a spontaneous decision to do it, in the middle of the day, and that I was forced to leave behind the remainder of my control issues, and just go with the flow, regardless of knowing the whats and wheres and whens. And I never felt more relaxed.

***** UPDATE ******

And today is Ramadhan. Happy fasting everyone. :)

Picnic in the Park

Thank god the weather is finally starting to look up. Summer definitely seems to be a not-so distant possibility now. The sun occasionally makes an appearance, there air is definitely warmer than the winter chill we Melbournians have been subjected to for the past months, and everyone's starting to venture out in beach gear.

In lieu of the good weather, we ended up organizing a weekend picnic. One of the best parts about Melbourne are the well-kept parks for public use. A sanctuary in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the city. The particular park we ended up at was a 5-minute walk from college, which is convenient when you're lugging heaps of things.

I napped parts of the afternoon, secure in the company of friends I knew would take care of me. The sun was warm on my face. It was one of those lazy, laidback afternoons where time seemed to trickle ever so slowly in the best way possible. An afternoon filled with easy chatter of friends who had all the time in the world.

We were young and unfettered by the responsibilities of adults. We had time to kill, and the lazy, stagnant air of the evening made it seem as if we were caught in a moment in time. Frozen, crystallized, captured in the peak of our youth at that very moment, in all our glory and confidence and immaturity. We are barely tainted with the blush of adulthood, individuals all supremely confident with the naive invincibility of youth. It seemed as if Father Time did not touch us that day, and we were all the more comfortable with that.

We had fun in all our trash-talking glory. And as the sun set, and we too made our way back to college, and our slow, winding day came to an end. We basked in the warm glow of dusk, each unwilling to let go of that languid, lazy feeling. Unwilling to fast forward to the normal pace of life. And so we sat. And waited for life to pass us by.

Here's to a laidback weekend.

Morals of An Online Female Generation

The Internet has made the world a smaller place. Truly it has. E-mail makes keeping in touch just a click away, chat programs make it possible to talk to a person on the other side of the world instantly, certain websites allow individuals to keep in touch with whole networks of people. And that is just the tip of the iceberg.

With so many people enjoying the uses of the Internet on a daily basis, it's not surprising that individuals have had to create an online personality. This may differ for every individual. The shadows and anonymity of the World Wide Web creates an almost intimate environment, an illusion of privacy. An individual has the freedom of choice to choose what they want to do, what they want to say, be whoever they wish to be.

Some retain themselves.

Others don't.

I join the ranks of the many online, daily users of the Internet. E-mail is my friend. My MSN is constantly on. I have accounts on Networking websites like Friendster and MySpace. I've made use of all these services to keep in touch with people I know.

The latest trends seem to be networking websites such as Friendster, and MySpace, which I find particularly useful conceptually. I enjoy looking through the profiles of old friends, getting updated on their latest photos and latest going ons through the occasional post on the bulletin board. I've even been contacted by old friends, friends who date all the way back to primary school, whom I am delighted to get in touch with once again.

Lately, as I occasionally do, I clicked through the many profiles on MySpace, randomly flitting from one person to another. As I shifted through profiles of randoms, I saw a disconcerting shift in the photos displayed on public profile. The profiles I looked through seemed more suited on a pornography, adult matchmaking website rather than the wholesome, useful tool of communication that I envisioned.

Women, all beautiful in their own way, displaying their bodies on a network which was easily accessible to chlidren old enough to use the computer. It made me wonder. True, there was the anonymity of the Internet, the freedom of experimentation, but what was the point? Images that I can easily do without, the wanton images of naked flesh, more explicit than tasteful.

It made me wonder about the choices these women were making. Did they need the lustful comments of other individuals to bolster their insecurities? Did they have a point to prove - to display the beauty of their bodies on the realms of cyberspace for the world to see?

More so were the individuals who put up pictures of themselves flagrante derelicto with their partners. What was the point? The secret desire of voyeurism? Did they get off by imagining their images fuelled the lust of others? Did they just want to prove that they were having a healthy sex life?

The one issue that angered me the most were the profiles that put up such pictures, and yet, still boldly admitted to being individuals of faith. Muslims. Christians. Whatever. I'm definite on the fact that religion frowns upon the degree of wantonness displayed for the world to see. It's not up to me to judge on how people choose to act. However, it becomes somewhat personal when a Muslim publicly chooses to flaunt the rules of religion.

It confuses me that individuals can turn the most innocent of things, meant for public use, into something else. It seems to me that this is a sign of the degradation of the moral and religious values of our society. It makes me sad to think of these women, who seem to think it's alright to flaunt their bodies publicly. It makes me wonder if they respect themselves at all.

Women are all beautiful in our own way. You don't have to spread your legs to prove it.

Yay for Term Breaks

Sydney-Canberra-Sydney-Geelong. In that order.

I am physically exhausted, but mentally recharged. Oh well. Party when the sun shines, that's what I think. It was a packed holiday, because hopping on and off trains and buses and cars were such a huge part of it, but the times in between were awesome.

SYDNEY

After being in Sydney, I've definitely decided that Melbourne is a much nicer place to live. Sydney is busy. Hustling and bustling. The city is huge and sprawling, almost intimidating. It was noisy. It was everything I can live without. It was, however, definitely the tourist destination of the break. I can't believe how many people I ran into! I met up with some of the Americans from Ormond at Darling Harbour and had lunch with them. It's nice to be able to sit beside the bay and have lunch, while keeping an eye on those evil seagulls. Then we went to see Nemo! LOL. I mean, the aquarium.

After they left, Chris and I decided to do the whole tourist thing and see the Sydney Opera House. Or at least, I wanted to. Chris wanted to be original and be one of those people who would say they'd been to Sydney and never been to the Opera House. Strange. Well, I had my way. Sort of.

Chris, being the typical male he is, refused to ask for directions and vaguely waved his hands towards the general direction of the Opera House. We walked 45 minutes on some godforsaken road beside the shoreline, which I swear NO ONE ever uses, before we got our first glimpse of the Harbour Bridge.

My first reaction : "God, it's ugly."

Chris's response: Well, it's a bridge made of steel.

I did revise my opinion after seeing the whole thing. Quite impressive. The people walking up the bridge looked like little ants walking down in unison down the steel. The thought of being that high up just sends the blood rushing to my head. Wouldn't do it. Wouldn't even get halfway up. It was an impressive structure though.

Then we rounded the corner and came in sight of the structure that has to be on the majority of every single tourist postcard of Sydney. The Sydney Opera House. It didn't quite have the grandeur I associated with it. Sure, it was interesting. All those curves? Pretty cool. I dare say an architecture student, or a construction student might have found it a bit more impressive. It was just a nice building, and it looked cool lit up at night.

The best part of Sydney would have been the beaches. I met up with Brad at Bondi, and ran into some med kids there as well. It was quite strange. It's a small world after all. Brad and I spent most of the afternoon sunbathing. He maintains he got a bit of a tan. Heh. It was nice to nap in the sand and hear the waves breaking in the surf. The gentle lap of waves. Johanna, Jaime and Kathryn came later, and we hung out at Bondi until the good weather ran out.

Manly Beach was quite nice, but it reminded me more of one of those lonely, rugged beaches that one tends to walk up and down at. There were heaps of things washed up on the beach. One of the deadliest jellyfishes in the world. Dead puffer fishes. A washed up rotting fish, A squid without it's tentacles. I enjoyed the walk. The brisk wind against my face. The little nature excursion with friends who muck around. I love the silly photos we took of things washed up.

Anyone who heads to Sydney HAS to try Pancake on the Rocks. Oh my god. That place was awesome. The best pancakes I had in my life. I think I scared off the guys with the sounds of appreciation I kept making. Chris and I kept the conversation laden with sexual innuendoes, and I think poor, innocent Jee Jian missed the whole joke we had going on.

Just walking around Sydney with people whose company I enjoy was fun. The highlight was when I returned later that week and they drove me around in a newspaper van. (One of the seniors was working as a delivery boy for the Herald Sun). That was a first.

CANBERRA

Sam drove me down to Canberra later that week. I was totally exhausted I passed out for the whole drive down. At least he had Katie with him. I'm a good passenger. Sleeping in vehicles come easily to me. Slept over at Sam's that night we got to Canberra.

Coming so late, I couldn't appreciate his house until the morning. It was fantastic. Airy, with a patio where we could actually lounge around on. We went out for lunch into the city, and headed over to the national spring festival: Floriade. This was the second year I've been to Floriade and it's just as beautiful as I remember. The flowers stretched out for miles and miles. Walking down those paths made me realise how much I appreciate those simple things in life. Flowers make me so happy. God is amazing.

Met up with Hugh later, and was immediately sucked into his whole mad, crazy social whirl of his life. His friends. I met all of them. The whole crazy bunch. They're all mad... and I love them for it. It's like stepping into a sitcom. They're all witty, insane people. I slept over his house that night. His parents are awesome. They're lovely as well. It's always different hanging out with a good friend under familial conditions. It gives you more insight into their character.. And Hugh is a sweetheart at home. It makes me miss my own family.

Had lunch with the whole big group the next day and then Hugh took Tammy and I to Parliament. I've been there before, but I like walking around anyway. For some reason, I wasn't as trigger happy as I usually am. I was supposed to sleep over Tengku's the night after, so Hugh drove me over later. We made plans to party that night.

Got to Academy later, and immediately loved the interior. A huge TV screen spanned one wall, showing the videoclips of the songs playing, and I loved the funky lights. I was less smoky than most clubs and I met up with everyone else before Hugh got there, because he was attending a 21st. Anyway, Hugh and Justin were majorly shitfaced.. Everyone was hitting the dancefloor with an enthusiasm that amazed me. These guys dance like people on television do. As in, really well. Anyway, later that night, we got a bit of a scare cause we found out one of the crowd had taken E. Crazy dude. It turned out to be impure MDMAs, not enough to actually cause any sort of harmful effects, but it freaked me out slightly anyway. I do like Academy though. It's a nice place to hang out.

When I got back to the apartment, I was supposed to call to be let in. Total drama. My phone battery died, and I didn't have the number memorized. It was 3 in the morning, freezing cold, I had left my jacket in the club and my phone just died on me. Sigh. I was lucky enough... my phone managed to stay on for 15 seconds: just enough time for me to scribble down the number and make my way to a payphone. Good times.

Tengku took me to the art gallery the next day. It was nice catching up with him. I think he was dead bored walking around the gallery, but I love art, so I took ages poring over the pieces I really liked. I could've stayed longer, but I think he was getting antsy, so I took pity on him. It was nice enough of him to take me around.

Hung out with Faee, Shazlin and Azlin that night, and had some of that Goodberries ice cream Tengku keeps raving about. It was good. Not mouthwateringly, ohmygodIhavetohavesomemore good, but good nonetheless. It felt good, hanging out with the Malaysian crowd. It's such a different vibe from my Australian friends. I suppose a similar culture brings out different things, and it's easier to click. I just hung out at Faee's place for a while later, but it got late, and that part of my holiday ended.

GEELONG

I made good on my promise to Nat and FINALLY came down to Geelong. Flew in straight from Sydney and made my way to Deakin. It's a nice enough place, although the hallways reek of piss. That building has seen one too many drunken episodes. It was so fun catching up with Nat after so long though. Just hanging out with one of my oldest friends. The sense of comfort. I swear I'm getting old.

I love Geelong if only for the fact that it has this amazing waterfront. It's a sleepy seaside town, but that day there was some sort of fair going on the waterfront. I had to resist the temptation to have a pony ride. We had sushi beside the beach. I met up with Chris later, and his girlfriend, Lauren, gave Chris and I a lift back to Melbourne.

My holidays are over now, but I'm recharged. And refreshed.

I remember the flowers.

I remember the smiles of friends.

I remember cuddling up to Nat.

I remember the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

I remember the sensation of the warm sun on my face.

And I appreciate all of them.