Sorebrek's Musings and Ramblings

In search of the holy grail of an MBA (class of 2008 hopeful), this space will hopefully chronicle the search and my other quixotic pursuits.

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

Jet lag buzz

Waiting at Changi airport in Singapore for local friends to come and pick me up so I won't die of boredom in the 8 hours before my connecting flight to India is due. In the words of resident Singapoerans, Singapore is one giant shopping mall; sorry if that sounds judgemental, I am not saying it, the residents are, the logic being if you're catholic I guess you can pull a funny one on the pope. Any way, I am sitting outside the baggage area in what might be termed a small island of seats in the middle of a wide corridor. Without much thought I had plopped on one of the seats. What didn't strike me at that time was that there were no other passengers in those set of seats; most had taken chairs by the walls. I soon realized why. I was sitting there with my hands locked behind my head and staring into space wih Brendel's Mozart to keep me company. It started as a trickle, but soon waves of humanity came washing down the corridor. They split into two columns right before me and walked around me. I was startled at first. Here I am sitting in a rather clueless, shall we say awkward position and hundreds of people are walking right up to me, staring at the guy in a funny hiker’s layering jacket and in what I take pleasure in pretending to be obeisance, give me the right of the way. In due time with a little help from Wolfgang and the fact that it has been 24 hours since I started my journey, I settle into a seance and actually begin enjoying myself. I can see me staring back emptily right through them, but taking in each and every one of them. Like flies they fell off my bleary-eye radar - the waddling nuns, the wild-eyed burqa-clad wives, the spiky hair-styled asian teen, the batik body-gloved flight attendants, the workers wheeling a barrow-ful of hard hats, the harrowed mother with three kids, the cute girl with calloused feet, the hard-to-miss americans, the gesticulating french, the young indian wife, the tired old parents with children of unbridled youth - they all pay reluctant homage to to me. The babbling brook of humanity divides itself into two startled tributaries at the island that was me on a natural high. It was almost as if I wasn't there; they were looking at a guy who wasn't me and strangely they seemed vulnerable as I looked through them. Guess I haven't felt like this in a long time. Guess I really need this vacation. It will be another 16 hours before I get home. It will be worth it, if only for my metaphysical experience.


  • At 6:44 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    the date on this post is wrong. why? just want to have your post at the top of all the rss feeds? pretty pathetic.

  • At 11:14 PM, Blogger sorebrek said…

    Sorry, I was meaning to be pathetic but not misleading :-) I wrote it when I did not have access to the Internet, but eventually when I posted it, I set it to the actual date; didn't realize that we've moved on to 2005.


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