Ginger; mint; cardamon; star anise; peppercorn; cinnamon.

Few would have guessed a tea made of these seemingly conflicting ingredients could taste so good.


Mumbai is such a pot of Masala tea - with its potpourri of locals (Maharashtrians), Indians from other states, and foreigners.

Even time has collapsed onto itself in this crowded city - cows and goats grazing on grass alongside roads flanked by buildings from the Victorian era traveled by an occasional Mercedes or Peugot.


Mumbai is not part of India, one of my professors insisted.

I could see why.

Hotels, horse carriages and locals who go "Konichiwa!... annyunghaseyo! No? From China?" abound, gearing to glean that extra rupee from tourists.

But this, of course, is not a fair appraisal of the city.


Paint a better picture from my upcoming photos you may.


Or finish up your cup of Masala tea.

What's been left behind may be telling.

Some things, sometimes, come back after we have let go of them: homing pigeons; the ball-chasing Jack Russell; unappreciative companions.

My love for photography (and creation) never diminished, but there are times when it takes a new environment to revigorate the attachments of old.


And this time it's India.


I will be heading to Ahmedabad for a six-month student exchange programme in a month's time.

Before hitting the books, I plan to do wander around Goa and Mumbai - with my trusty camera in hand.

I certainly hope everything goes according to plan!


In the meantime, I shall be posting some of what I have taken in Singapore and Thailand in the past two years. (Did absence make the heart grow fonder?)

Feel free to comment.

I learnt a lot during my stay in Queensland, Australia: It isn't always just about the guy with the chainsaw, the humongous buttress, and the big mob with the placards.

I don't think Mother Nature is bothered with trimmings; It's when the peace-loving-turn-paranoid barber drops the scissors and brandishes a pair of shears does tragedy befall. I think it's very romantic to be empathic, understanding about everything around us, like how indulged in puppy love the boy recites weird figures: '169cm, 47kg, 12/08/1987, 64575503...' So if everyone becomes mindful of the tissue in his hand (and perhaps also those already on the floor), his office's paper usage, the packaging in which his takeaway lunch comes... hooray! We have progressed.

Singapore's supposed to be a clean place, though. No doubt the cleaners (and policemen) work very hard. The means or the end, then?

I'm for the means... that's when you get the surprise ending.

I don't think Singaporeans really like Malaysia's Genting Highlands.

It's like visiting public restrooms: You cannot not go. If I say the visitation's because of the difference in Fahrenheit it's more than mere suspicion. "Out of the fridge... coo... into the toaster...", Mr Chicken Pie recounts the daily horrors, "and God help me if that 100-kg meat-mincer of a kid from down the road stops by... coo... coo..."

And that's where I'm going tomorrow. I mean Genting Highlands.

Was varnishing my camera prior to my trip to Australia, but Genting... nope... no dying firefly or gum tree... just my girlfriend and me (and her family). I think many of my friends find such a combination of travellers horrific, perhaps more so that I can still smile about it?

More on Australia when I return from Malaysia?


oH anyway don't be mistaken~!... Genting Highlands' an interesting place... clouds and rain making the atmosphere romantic and wintry kind of thing~

... wOohOoo~!~!

And in case you've forgotten... you guys rock!

Ouch!

Respite can hurt if it comes at a time when you don't need it... and for me, like now.

I'm in the midst of DA euphoria... my girlfriend's having her end-of-year examinations... and suddenly the army burps and sweeps me off Singapore... onto Rockhampton, Australia~ *glAnCes arOunD* ... oh... surprise surprise... it's a desert...

Haha... nAaah... really doubt things will get tough, so keeping my fingers very very crossed, hoping that this will turn out to be a charming photography expedition, perhaps even a bit of a gastronomic experience? Shall be missing my family, my girlfriend, my friends, my girlfriend, my home, my girlfriend, badminton, and DA... but hey! - I'll be back with a vengeance!

Used to be afraid of blogs... journals... those notebooks teeming with lines... and that incessantly blinking cursor... aRgh... makes my mind go blank... But this is the end of blogophobia I suppose?

hEy you guys are wonderful!... keep it up DA!

Tata!