sip your napoleon brandy / but never get your lips wet
It was by some great stroke of luck that I saw Lee He today at football and was informed of a 4Q gathering at his place in the evening. It was great to see the old faces again. Lee He's parents took a few seconds to recognize me but were soon expressing their disbelief that the little boy they once knew had grown so much taller. Its funny when you realize, bringing your friends back home now that you're coming with adults. It is difficult to explain how this feels, much like a reminder that you are no longer a child. You also momentarily wonder what it might feel like to be parents, wondering where the children who used to come to the house disappeared.
Being away from people you grew up with and returning to meet them is an incredibly comforting thing. There is, I believe, something incomparably precious about knowing someone as they were as a kid (yeah I'm 64 now and saying all this!). Of course, with my not being 64 and all, a great majority of the people I know now I knew as kids. What I mean though is this incomparably precious feeling touches you with people you knew well, people who you could come up with say 10 anecdotes about off the top of your head. (Thats it, there's a definitive measure to how well you might know someone: the 10 anecdote rule.) You can never be distant from people you can easily recall. Its also funny telling your parents who you were out with and having them recall what these people were like. You know, back from the days you'd get back home and tell them every little thing your friends did - "Ajay did something really funny in class and it went a bit like this...". They remembered Lee He as the boy from Hong Kong (wrong) who I sat next to for two years, who - listen to this its good: woke me up when i was asleep on my desk in social studies in plain view of my mum who had come to watch my personal speech thing for sec 4 english (where parents were invited) which was right after some insufferable dribble on civil society. These days I'm much more likely to be talking to my parents about what is happening with Anna Hazare's protest march in India than going "so yesterday night Sambor and I are sozzled in Zouk and we..." yeah you get my point.
I don't often see random objects and think 'I want that' but the suitcases the brothers were carrying on the Darjeeling Limited were very striking. I want a set of suitcases exactly like those.
My understanding of (high?) fashion is elementary at best but its interesting how fashion houses bring into their stores at exorbitant prices things which were once commonly used before technology and mass production allowed cheaper alternatives. These leather suitcases must each cost an arm and a leg but I swear I've seen very very similar ones lying around in the attic in my grandparents house in India.
Being away from people you grew up with and returning to meet them is an incredibly comforting thing. There is, I believe, something incomparably precious about knowing someone as they were as a kid (yeah I'm 64 now and saying all this!). Of course, with my not being 64 and all, a great majority of the people I know now I knew as kids. What I mean though is this incomparably precious feeling touches you with people you knew well, people who you could come up with say 10 anecdotes about off the top of your head. (Thats it, there's a definitive measure to how well you might know someone: the 10 anecdote rule.) You can never be distant from people you can easily recall. Its also funny telling your parents who you were out with and having them recall what these people were like. You know, back from the days you'd get back home and tell them every little thing your friends did - "Ajay did something really funny in class and it went a bit like this...". They remembered Lee He as the boy from Hong Kong (wrong) who I sat next to for two years, who - listen to this its good: woke me up when i was asleep on my desk in social studies in plain view of my mum who had come to watch my personal speech thing for sec 4 english (where parents were invited) which was right after some insufferable dribble on civil society. These days I'm much more likely to be talking to my parents about what is happening with Anna Hazare's protest march in India than going "so yesterday night Sambor and I are sozzled in Zouk and we..." yeah you get my point.
I don't often see random objects and think 'I want that' but the suitcases the brothers were carrying on the Darjeeling Limited were very striking. I want a set of suitcases exactly like those.
My understanding of (high?) fashion is elementary at best but its interesting how fashion houses bring into their stores at exorbitant prices things which were once commonly used before technology and mass production allowed cheaper alternatives. These leather suitcases must each cost an arm and a leg but I swear I've seen very very similar ones lying around in the attic in my grandparents house in India.