The Cho

Recall the cho across which Dr Khanna's father took his last steps, the searing desert heat, and unbearable pain burning through your feet. Tying leaves to his feet, only to find the leaves completely permeable to the heat. Perhaps a fictitious place, but one which our school's Astro Turf is modelled upon. For today I tasted the the full blast of the heated turf.

Perhaps it was sheer madness that caused me not to have second thoughts about wearing sandals to school, it was entirely possible for me to return home and fetch a pair of shoes, given that I had only realised my folly about two steps out of the Condominium estate. Still, I persisted, choosing to put faith in my not-so-tough-as-steel feet, only to find regret.

To be fair, the ground only threatened at the beginning, hardly a tingle, but prolonged exposure was - in a word - hell. In a moment it became clear that I would not last, even as I struggled to hentak-kaki to beat the heat. Half an hour into the game and I sat out, because it was far too hot. I had hoped for the sun to go down, but apparently it wouldn't relent, not today.

But there was purpose in all this I guess. For in my sitting I struck up a conversation with David, on of those in charge of the MCYC youths - who, coincidentally came for a meet-the-BB-Boys' (with a captial B as always) session - and it was in this conversation that we exchanged thoughts on the workings and building of a Preaching Point, during which of course I shared the interesting experiences of worshipping in a Cathay Cinema Hall.

And that would bring us to MCYC, the camp which has both been a blessing and (sometimes, unfortunately) a burden - still, I'd prefer to see it as a blessing. As the youths came and went, mixing with us in the process, we felt joy, we felt fulfilment, and we also felt that we had a long way to go. Breaking down age, education and (yes) gender barriers was no picnic, and we would have our hands full for the coming two weeks. Still I debate over the possibility of attending the camp, to go or not to go, though the latter seems more likely - given a very packed schedule.

Recently, I've been trying to finish a book that was (graciously) lent to me by Derek - The Moor's Last Sigh by Salman Rushdie (the poor potato). A satisfying read so far, but difficult to understand in its own ways. An exploration into a dysfunctional family, revelations of human nature, the very best and the very worst, struggles within relationships, passion, desire, abstinence, rejection, ecstasy, all the different flavors of life, tantalizing spices of life, dashed onto a platter, a generous portion indeed.

And now, it seems, this blog remains as but a fragment of what it was. Merely a record of life now, unvisited (though many come and go silently). Let it be that way. To my invisible audience, adieu!