chinatown

just came back from an uneventful 3 hours of roaming the chinatown streets in search for cheap music cds. well i got alot more than i bargained for, having 1) missed my bus stop; 2) walked in the wrong direction towards raffles place; 3) got distracted by cheap-but-poorly-made merchandise; 4) the rumblings of my tummy leading me to maxwell food centre, a stall selling taiwan sausage, and old chang kee (@ peninsula plaza - yes i walked tt far).

but the mind-dulling pace of life there really made me reflect on the pace of life in much of the remainder of the island.

everything's too fast. everyone's rushing off to somewhere to do something. running to catch the blinking green man before he goes. rushing to finish off tt last spoonful of char kway tiao before rushing off again to finish running through those doccuments back in office.

rushing to fetch kids from school. stepping on the accelerator before the ERP gantries light to life. rushing to cook dinner when they get home.

rushing to lectures. frantically copying the last paragraphs of a chapter to finish off a tutorial. rushing to tutorials.

it's funny for people to be so engrossed with cramming every bit of their lives with details and programmes; with appointments and commitments. people seem frantic, or even scared, tt a minute free would equate to a minute wasted, lost into all oblivion.

the trouble is tt pple are too anxious to achieve. to reign supreme in every sphere, so fondly ingrained within our hearts, and yet who has questioned its correctness. we automatically assume tt to achieve and to be able to check each and every little box on life's score card is a good thing, but who's assuming here?

i definitely won't go as far to suggest that sloth is a virtue, but what i'm saying is tt a little rest and relaxation sometimes is really what's most needed. just like the chinatown folks.

most of the residents have age twist their arm to do things slowly, perhaps the only way tt would correct our hurried nature. but observing around me, i observed pple strolling unhurriedly across the pedestrian crossing indifferent to the flashing green-man; browsing through the cds one by one, with some hokkien song blasting unglamorously through big ugly speakers; the auntie browsing through rack full of clothes and haggling with the shopkeeper over 1 dollar for 30 mins; ang mos looking at cameras whilst the shopkeeper tries hard to mask his smirk; the bus driver waiting patiently for an elderly to board the bus and seat herself instead of rushing off the moment 1 foot leaves the pavement.

the pace here is slow but not dull. fluid. smooth. calming. thought-provoking.

yet it has an aura of loneliness and irrelevance heavy in the air.

i had initially made the trip down to chinatown to scout for some jazz cds. shuwei told me tt the cds at pearl centre and pple's park were a couple of dollars cheaper than elsewhere. though he did warn me tt they may not have jazz, i still thought it was worth a shot especially since some plans for today were cancelled (very hurriedly as u may expect as part of our pattern of life) due to unforeseen curcumstances. true enough all they carried were lots of chinese pop, old love ballads, mind-blowing material like hi-5, and exercise cds with scantily clad women on the cover meant to tantillate those frequent goers of yangtze and its likes.

well... anyway... not a wasted trip after all since i explored a little more of chinatown and its surrounding area on FOOT, being lost and all tt, and having the time to roam a little into the corners of *almost* obsolete shopping centres.

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did u know? -- the m1s are selling roses today. kinda made me feel even more left out and alone. can't wait for tml to come.