I sat at the canteen, had breakfast alone this morning. The rest were pretty much socked out from new year celebrations and unpacking their rooms last night.This is the first of the days that I’ve started doing things alone.

These morning moments spent having breakfast, were mine and mine alone.They sure were good to own.

There was an Indian guy sitting at the next table, a pretty well-built and good looking one, he looked like someone I could talk to.I contemplated joining him, but he seemed like he having a ME moment,absorbed in reading the paper and eating his butter toast.This must be one of the best times of the day for him, or anyone.

Not to interrupt, I picked another table, the one with “the Ahmedabad Times” laying on it. I read my paper, crunched into hot buttered toast and sipped my milky tea .I forked up my omelette in a slightly flippant manner,without regard for etiquette or people watching. I was absorbed in the Ahmedabad Times, evaluating this lead sentence or that, asking myself how I would grade it if I were my journalism teacher.Apart from the canteen man speaking an incomprehensible language across the phone, this felt just like home.(Funny how I am self-conscious enough to describe myself)

I think having breakfast while reading papers must be one of the most universal experiences across the world.Perhaps it is great to start the day by retreating, so I do not lose myself in the stresses and adventures that are to come.

Talking about adventures, we spent New Year’s Eve eating strange food in a traditional Gujarati restaurant. The restaurant was in a “mock village” setting,complete with straw huts, kerosene lamps, and camp fires. It felt very much like Haw Par Villa, or Sentosa, these places made to replicate authentic culture for tourists.I am not a big one for these touristy commercial ploys, but it is only correct to appreciate our hosts’ effort in taking us there.

And this is how the mock rural looked like:Soft and large beds around crackling fires, the perfect excuse for people to lounge and talk in the soft light of glowing ambers as the world goes by.Along with that,village music, the rise and fall of tabla drum beats matched with wind instruments.People danced along to the distinct tribal sound,hands in the air, feet jumping, heads shaking.Do what you will, this is a celebration of life.

There was no booze, no loud techno bass, nothing of that sort, anyhow we still got high. Quite very high, actually.

In a crazy moment, I went onstage and requested to play the tablas(Indian drums). And hey hey, Im a tourist:they couldnt refuse.So started the rhythm divine, and what I thought was a decent attempt of mine to blend into the soundscape.

After the dizzying performance onstage, these two Indian girls came up to me. With every bit of struggling English theycould muster, they told me that I had a “very good spirit”, that I was a “happy person” . It’s heart stopping to have people tell you what they think of you:their words were appreciated more than they wld ever know.

Following that, we went to the musuem at the back of the mock village and saw all these Indian artifacts and inventions.Some were fascinating,others hilarious, mostly things I would never think of. There was this metal cup with a transparent base, people used it when playing cards. So you pretend to drink from it, when you are actually looking through the base to see the other player’s hand.Another was a rolling pin, with a bell in its drum, so it tinkles while rolling dough.It’s actually a rolling-pin-cum-rattle: so mothers can cook dinner and pacify their kids all at the same time—TADA!And there are dumbells that you stand upright to rest your knees on in case you felt tired sitting cross-legged. Geez, the things people do.

The musuem trip had to end so we travelled back to campus where we ushered in New Year having Chai at Chota: the mid-night cafe in sch. Fireworks happened in a distance,noisy parties happened everywhere round campus.Sleeping was a problem, but a good problem,at least this campus isnt a boring one.(but Im off to a slow start, havent started making random friends yet)

On a more personal note,I bought myself a ring for 2008.An eclectic ring with an electric blue stone on it.Ive never accessorised, was always a minimalist.Ive never bothered very much with looks, or taking care of myself. Looking back at 2007,I think I spent too much time caring about other people’s affairs, I NEED to take care of myself.

Someone once commented that I was fearless, but I think Im more reckless than anything. Did some good reckless things in 07.JY actually told me to “jie1 shen1 zi4 ai4″ (be pure and love yourself) which will probably be my guiding light for 2008.I can live as a reckless individual without attachments, life is much easier and more enjoyable that way.But perhaps people can only live that way when they have nothing to lose.And having something to lose is always a great thing, at least you’ve cared enough about something good solid and worthy of keeps in your life.

So as the Lord has shown me, Ive got lots to lose.I don’t live in the fear of losing what Ive been blessed with, but I want to live 2008 knowing that my life is bought with a price, that I always have loved ones rooting for me.

It’s quite a big decision to leave my jaded self behind, for more virtuous aspirations.Cynicism, style, pretension,numbness: all of this shall be kept in the attic for they are the old and outgrown garments that I hid beneath.

I throw my arms open to life again, trusting, only trusting it will bring gifts to a simple spirit.

( I am reading this two weeks later. and I absolutely cant stand the melodramatic ending. see maybe that’s what I felt at that time,so let’s give a little respect to that moment shall we? After severe contemplation I decide not to change it.)