I don't even remember the last time I've been rejected so many times. Practically every photographer I've approached - the good and the not-so-fantastic - has claimed to be unavailable on my wedding day. Indeed, I've come a long way since the time I said to C that it doesn't matter even if we don't engage a photographer to cover our wedding. In my defence, I was thinking of those photographs of the contrived and cringe-worthy "pose-and-say cheese" variety then, which I still believe I can well do without.
But I've since come to the realisation that I do wish to have something with which to remember the most important day of my life, when I say "I do" to the man I love in front of the God I love. I want to have something that I'd enjoy taking out every now and then, something that will take me back to those memories every time I look at it, so what better than photographs?
Videos won't cut it for me - they say far too much, leaving nothing to the imagination. I'm looking for something that will evoke that special day, not masquerade as that special day. I don't need to have every scene of that day replayed in every minute detail for me; what I want instead is for my mind to be allowed to take flight and indulge in the process of recollection - an activity which could very well be as pleasurable as the contents of that recollection themselves.
So the search continues. But when God closes a door, He opens a window. So I'll keep the faith.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Friday, June 8, 2007
An unexpected act of kindness
A few days ago, I boarded the bus only to find that my ez-link card was out of cash and I was out of coins. The fare was $1.10, so I took out my $2 note and started looking around for someone I could ask for change.
The nearest passenger - an old Chinese woman - shook her head at me before I could even finish asking my question. So I approached the passenger sitting behind her - a Malay woman with three or four kids in tow. She took out her wallet, emptied out her coins, then asked me how much I needed for my fare. "$1.10," I told her, thinking that she wanted to know which denominations to give to me. Instead, she gave me $1.10 exactly. I looked at her almost in bewilderment, but she just said simply, "It's ok." Only then did it dawn on me - she was giving me the $1.10 for my fare! I was quite stunned; I don't even remember the last time I was at the receiving end of an act of kindness from a complete stranger. I thanked her profusely and proceeded to pay my fare.
When I turned round to find a seat, I was greeted by a middle-aged Chinese man and woman who simultaneously offered me change for the $2 note that I was still clutching. I accepted change from the woman, then returned the money to the Malay woman, but I could not help feeling a little disappointed.
No, it's not that I didn't want to return the money to the Malay woman, but I just felt that by so doing, I had somehow diminished the magnitude of her kind act in some way. That act of kindness from one fellow human being to another was unconditional and undiscriminating - something precious and valuable in an increasingly selfish and materialistic world.
The nearest passenger - an old Chinese woman - shook her head at me before I could even finish asking my question. So I approached the passenger sitting behind her - a Malay woman with three or four kids in tow. She took out her wallet, emptied out her coins, then asked me how much I needed for my fare. "$1.10," I told her, thinking that she wanted to know which denominations to give to me. Instead, she gave me $1.10 exactly. I looked at her almost in bewilderment, but she just said simply, "It's ok." Only then did it dawn on me - she was giving me the $1.10 for my fare! I was quite stunned; I don't even remember the last time I was at the receiving end of an act of kindness from a complete stranger. I thanked her profusely and proceeded to pay my fare.
When I turned round to find a seat, I was greeted by a middle-aged Chinese man and woman who simultaneously offered me change for the $2 note that I was still clutching. I accepted change from the woman, then returned the money to the Malay woman, but I could not help feeling a little disappointed.
No, it's not that I didn't want to return the money to the Malay woman, but I just felt that by so doing, I had somehow diminished the magnitude of her kind act in some way. That act of kindness from one fellow human being to another was unconditional and undiscriminating - something precious and valuable in an increasingly selfish and materialistic world.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)