Home away from home.
By Daryl
Monday, 30 October 2017
The croaking of the frogs just after a down pour, the crickets at night filling up a cacophony of maddening sounds, it's the weekend again.
The Singaporean hostelites are back home for their home cooked meals, we the Malaysians, alas are left to our devices.
Some of us would get on the No 10 double decker bus and travel down lush rain tree lined Ayer Rajah Expressway and visit the bright lights Orchard Road. But most of us cash strapped Malaysians would just make do with weekend hostel living.
What more than above the usual homework and assignments to while the time away? For me, photography was a way out. Taking photos of wild life in Kent Ridge, insects, even the occasional portraits for the hostelites which resulted in being one of the Wedding Photographers for Raffles Hall hostelites. And of course doing gardening and fixing things as I was also involved as the Maintenance Crew fixing spoilt lights and faucets and what nots.
But come the night, when all was still, I'd had an appointment to spread myself over a green carpeted table and indulge in the 2 to 3 hours of challenging 3 ball billiards.
If it ain't with Chua Ai Ling, it'd be with Ang Fui Gan or David Tham on a game of billiards. It's practically mathematical. Angles, spins, all the tricks to be mastered with just those 3 balls. But it was not those balls that made the day, it was the unspoken camaraderie, the "I know you had a bad day yet we are not going to be talking about it" kind of tacit acknowledgment that we all shared, and yet not shared. And after a few hours of laughter, a couple of cups of coffee, we retired back to our respective rooms, knowing that we shared something real yet without sharing anything, but well.... maybe sharing enough for that time at least.
I guess billiards are cheaper alternative than a visit to a psychologist or psychiatrist.
Monday, 30 October 2017
The croaking of the frogs just after a down pour, the crickets at night filling up a cacophony of maddening sounds, it's the weekend again.
The Singaporean hostelites are back home for their home cooked meals, we the Malaysians, alas are left to our devices.
Some of us would get on the No 10 double decker bus and travel down lush rain tree lined Ayer Rajah Expressway and visit the bright lights Orchard Road. But most of us cash strapped Malaysians would just make do with weekend hostel living.
What more than above the usual homework and assignments to while the time away? For me, photography was a way out. Taking photos of wild life in Kent Ridge, insects, even the occasional portraits for the hostelites which resulted in being one of the Wedding Photographers for Raffles Hall hostelites. And of course doing gardening and fixing things as I was also involved as the Maintenance Crew fixing spoilt lights and faucets and what nots.
But come the night, when all was still, I'd had an appointment to spread myself over a green carpeted table and indulge in the 2 to 3 hours of challenging 3 ball billiards.
If it ain't with Chua Ai Ling, it'd be with Ang Fui Gan or David Tham on a game of billiards. It's practically mathematical. Angles, spins, all the tricks to be mastered with just those 3 balls. But it was not those balls that made the day, it was the unspoken camaraderie, the "I know you had a bad day yet we are not going to be talking about it" kind of tacit acknowledgment that we all shared, and yet not shared. And after a few hours of laughter, a couple of cups of coffee, we retired back to our respective rooms, knowing that we shared something real yet without sharing anything, but well.... maybe sharing enough for that time at least.
I guess billiards are cheaper alternative than a visit to a psychologist or psychiatrist.
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