Today a shiny black BMW pulled up alongside my car at a traffic junction. On the passenger’s window and door was a huge glob of birdshit. Shit-brown and so huge the bird must surely have had a nasty curry. It looked like an upturned saucer of curry, the sort that accompanies your prata, with conspicuous granuly bits made of cardamon and other sundry spices.
And it made me wonder whether a bird, taking a dump mid-flight as substantial as that on that BMW, would suffer a catastrophic loss of flight control due to a sudden decrease in flying weight. Would it suddenly fly higher? Would it spiral out of control, much like an Imperial Tie-Fighter after being hit by an X-Wing’s laser cannons?
And why do birds suddenly appear, every time, I park here?
Just like me, the weather was a little on the grey side today. My brand-spanking-new sunnies remained brand-spanking-new, apart from a brief interlude of sunshine that lasted all of five minutes. Work today entailed driving coast to coast, cross country, pan island, rapid transit. But good that it did, because on the way to one of my work stops, I drove down this leafy avenue that looked very out of place in Singapore. If the weather had been 10 degrees cooler, I might have believed I was either in Paris or Shanghai or Sydney or Melbourne. Anywhere but here.
Not that here is bad. I mean, we have one leafy avenue that looks out of place here. I rolled down the windows and drove as slowly as I could without being slower than the lorries that were carrying granite and dirt, presumably to the coast, presumably to reclaim more land so that we can eventually wade knee deep across to Bintan.
A weak sun peeked through the browning leaves, and more wet brown leaves littered the two-laned road. You could almost fall in love with the whole thing. Wet leaves, smell of rain, sound of tyres on wet road. As I go walkin’ my ribbon of highway, I see all around me my blue blue skyway, Everywhere around me the wind keeps a-whistlin’, This land is made for you and me..
Then I met one of my workmates for work, and she gave me a tupperware box that smelled of freshly baked biscuits. Inside, she said, were freshly baked chocolate chip and toffee cookies. They looked ugly, smelled great and tasted better.
At coffee break tonight, I saw two cats by the road, one of them batting an invisible prey, jumping skittishly, all four legs airborne, while the other cat watched. A young couple who were friends of my coffee mate (hur hur, coffee mate) were discussing plans for their wedding, scheduled for December 2005. Something about Sentosa, Beaufort, small patch of grass and 200 guests.
While ferrying a friend’s friend, I was asked ‘if it was difficult to find a man who had no issues’, and whether I had issues. I answered yes to both questions.
Walking back to my car after another work stint, it rained again, and it was nice feeling the rain fall on the back of my hands. A friend told me once, ‘when it rains, you can either run, or get wet’.
That friend also likes the mantra I think I live by, the one I lifted off a song lyric, the one at the bottom of this blog, the one I am especially reminded of today: “There’s only two things in life, but I forget what they are”.
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