Saturday 18 June 2005

It's All For the Memories

It's always that time of the holidays where everything happens and seems to pass by in the blink of an eye, oh so quickly and before you even realise it, that time of rest and relaxation and partying and socialising has drawn to a close and I reluctantly return to the grindstone.

But not without the biggest smile on my face.

The memories of friends and laughter and trips as I made my way across different Australian states and to places nearer to Melbourne. The memories of old friends met and new friends made, in that uniquely Malaysian way of networking, especially with overseas students, where friends of friends become friends after a couple of hours and outings with a couple of friends finds me playing tourist guide to a pack of enthused, interested students.

The first highlight of a memory; the memory of skiing, of feeling the strange but exhilarating sensation of cold snow and warm sun simultaneously on that beautiful snow covered mountain. The memory of excitement at mastering the most basic ski moves as I learnt how to stop and turn as I glided over the snow. Of running around awkwardly in snow boots having a snowball fight with Nazli while Tengku sat and laughed at us. Of sliding down backwards on the slope in the beginning as I couldn't control my skis.

The memories of parties held and nights out, of company of friends which I thank for, because it is a time of my life where everything seems uncertain, where the winds of change have been unleashed and I know that nothing will be the way it once used to be. A part of me is saddened that I have lost that part of my past, but another part of me stays hopeful for the future.

The memories of those laidback times where we would just kick back and hang out and enjoy each other's company. Of spending whole days doing nothing but enjoying the warmth and security and the carefree nature of it all, knowing that we would soon have to return to the grindstone but for the moment, choosing to take life as it comes.

The second memory; one of waking up languidly and lazily in the early afternoon, warm in between the sheets and watching him flipping crepes like a pro in the kitchen. Warm, mouthwatering crepes with sugar and lemon, and I sit and watch and wish I could capture this particular moment in time. Without a care in the world. Happy.

And now I must return to that damned grindstone.

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