Though there are stacks of marking crying out for my attention, they can wait just a while. Oh is WHAT is that part of speech called, where a part represents the whole...as in, would my reference to academic essays as 'marking,' qualify as an xample of a Synechdoche, or would the term Metonymy be more appropriate?
Having said that, I have been singing several silent odes to a shopping mall of late...ask my close friends back in Cal...I was averse to shopping malls in general...while some might, and rightly argue that they have their advantages, such as creating a host of jobs, allowing people to congregate and offering convenience in terms of 'all things retail,' in general...i was still averse to them...to me, they were impersonal, overly-commercial buildings, rows of shops with no emotional value whatsoever...maybe because my old school campus was, well, replaced by one...
However, however...JP is different. It's where I could FEEL myself growing up...i feel that this is not going to be as eloquent a post I had hoped it would be, though I have so much to say...It is in a lonely corner of this mall that I had silently teared, having succumbed to a powerful wave of home-sickness...I must have attracted the collective attention of many passers-by, but the people here are so nice, that they did not stand and stare at me, they let me be...it was here that I bought my first dress with my first-earned allowance...it was here that I shopped for presents for my family and friends with the remuneration for the first few months...I remember spending every penny I could spare...and buying things which were mostly, largely, unnecessary...I remember walking around this place for hours, my splendid sense of direction leading me the wrong way every two steps...I remember trying to immerse myself in the food culture here, tentatively trying out new food items, and learning the spellings of local delights! I remember walking off the tension of having to take my first ever class here...I remember how 'comforted' I felt when I began to find my way around, with a warm sense of familiarity in an unknown land, when I received sudden and beaming smiles from the sales-people, who possibly saw me gallavanting around, more often than not...I remember trying Hot Soya Milk for the first time here, I remember the warm, 'runny' comfort it offered me as it trickled down my throat and how I thought it smelt as fresh and sweeeeet as a baby...it was here that I wove so many hopes for my days ahead, it was here that I must have unconsciously planned my lessons and anticipated student-reactions. It was here that I spent some lonely hours as well, and tried to over-come some sad feelings... It was here that I watched my first movie alone, and cried through it, just feeling funny that I was watching a movie alone, though it is rather a natural thing to do...it is here that i watched my SECOND movie alone, loving every moment of it...it counted that the movie was much better than the first, of which I didn't miss much, despite the tears...it was from here that I made thousands of phone calls home...Ami ekhon ei dokaane, ei khachhi, er shaathe...it is here that I had deep, indelible, ever-etched conversations with some of my closest local friends...it was here from where I embarked on my first ever MRT ride...I passed through JP with one very close friend of mine during those tiring weeks of practicum...and both she and I barely used to catch one another, because we were both so sleepy...
In another strain, life has been rewarding...i am trying to sip out the honey and cast out the thorns, as Anne Shirley was wont to do...except for those thorns whcih will help me grow by bleeding out my faults...
Having said that, I have been singing several silent odes to a shopping mall of late...ask my close friends back in Cal...I was averse to shopping malls in general...while some might, and rightly argue that they have their advantages, such as creating a host of jobs, allowing people to congregate and offering convenience in terms of 'all things retail,' in general...i was still averse to them...to me, they were impersonal, overly-commercial buildings, rows of shops with no emotional value whatsoever...maybe because my old school campus was, well, replaced by one...
However, however...JP is different. It's where I could FEEL myself growing up...i feel that this is not going to be as eloquent a post I had hoped it would be, though I have so much to say...It is in a lonely corner of this mall that I had silently teared, having succumbed to a powerful wave of home-sickness...I must have attracted the collective attention of many passers-by, but the people here are so nice, that they did not stand and stare at me, they let me be...it was here that I bought my first dress with my first-earned allowance...it was here that I shopped for presents for my family and friends with the remuneration for the first few months...I remember spending every penny I could spare...and buying things which were mostly, largely, unnecessary...I remember walking around this place for hours, my splendid sense of direction leading me the wrong way every two steps...I remember trying to immerse myself in the food culture here, tentatively trying out new food items, and learning the spellings of local delights! I remember walking off the tension of having to take my first ever class here...I remember how 'comforted' I felt when I began to find my way around, with a warm sense of familiarity in an unknown land, when I received sudden and beaming smiles from the sales-people, who possibly saw me gallavanting around, more often than not...I remember trying Hot Soya Milk for the first time here, I remember the warm, 'runny' comfort it offered me as it trickled down my throat and how I thought it smelt as fresh and sweeeeet as a baby...it was here that I wove so many hopes for my days ahead, it was here that I must have unconsciously planned my lessons and anticipated student-reactions. It was here that I spent some lonely hours as well, and tried to over-come some sad feelings... It was here that I watched my first movie alone, and cried through it, just feeling funny that I was watching a movie alone, though it is rather a natural thing to do...it is here that i watched my SECOND movie alone, loving every moment of it...it counted that the movie was much better than the first, of which I didn't miss much, despite the tears...it was from here that I made thousands of phone calls home...Ami ekhon ei dokaane, ei khachhi, er shaathe...it is here that I had deep, indelible, ever-etched conversations with some of my closest local friends...it was here from where I embarked on my first ever MRT ride...I passed through JP with one very close friend of mine during those tiring weeks of practicum...and both she and I barely used to catch one another, because we were both so sleepy...
In another strain, life has been rewarding...i am trying to sip out the honey and cast out the thorns, as Anne Shirley was wont to do...except for those thorns whcih will help me grow by bleeding out my faults...
