I love you. Wherever I live.

 Where I live now at the farm. Our ancestral home.

I have the pleasure of spending my resting days and nights in a pair of a 100-year old concrete shophouses with wooden floorboards, staircases, partitions and ceilings. This is our ancestral home, built by grandfather Mr. Gan Swee in 1919 by Chettiar craftsmen from India. 

The two adjoining shophouses have broad concrete five-foot ways supported by large pillars that are as old as the building.

We walk into the main one through the wooden door frame holding the tall heavy wooden doors at the main entrance , one of which is about to come apart, to the main reception hall. This space houses the antique mother of pearl furniture that line the walls of the main hall fronted by the family altar of solid dark rosewood carvings sitting high on the front wall separating the inner living ground floor quarters from the immediate courtyard. The wall is dominated by a large scrolled paper painting of Guan Kong, the god of war. At the far end of the wall, there's even a small window that opens out to the inner courtyard which has been neglected. Apart from this and the leaks everything else in the house stands solid. 

The unusually high ceiling, mosaic tiled flooring, wooden door frames, inner courtyard and outer kitchen fresh water well accentuates this century old building. 

Upstairs is reached by very steep stairs situated in the middle of the house just after the courtyard. The upstairs landing area is the living area which is a vast hall as broad and wide as the width of the shop lot. The dining/work table occupies a quarter of the room at the far end from the staircase, lined by a 3-step-case of glass fronted shelves housing the alcohol, books, tobacco and work paraphernalia. The back extension of the living area leads to an ample kitchen that looks out through a window to the farm at the back of the house. It's a good vantage point for viewing people coming and going to/from the farm.

Back at the living area, a large window opens out to the inner courtyard below revealing a patch of sky that floods our living room with light- sunlight by day and moonlight at night. Here is where I spend most of my time working on my mac or resting & reflecting staring out the window at night. 

We now cross-over to the lot next door which we also own, through an arched doorway purpose built to connect the two lots upstairs and downstairs. Both doorways are identical. This brings us to the inner living quarters, the TV area, the cupboards space, the ante-bedroom for  the bedroom of the lady of the house- my step mother. She's the undisputed queen of the roost. She keeps house to very high standards. A seasoned veteran of 80 years she has told me stories of her life to make mine pale in comparison. The inner living quarters lead via a walkway over the open courtyard to the main sleeping area at the front of the shop house. There are three partitioned rooms on this upstairs on the front of the shop house next door. 

I occupy the right partitioned room with two french windows fronting the main road of the small town of Johol. Which means I get to hear the goings-on the main thoroughfare below. The modified motorcycles are most incessant, occasionally overwhelmed by huge tanker trucks that grind by like a storm.

A large queen sized wooden bed greets you at the entrance from the flimsy wooden door that cuts short the wooden walkway to the front window. Apart from the largish bed there's a low side table for my smokes & crystal glass, another low table front adjacent to the foot of the bed sits the table fan that works hard all night to air my testicles under my sarong. A white plastic permanent recliner is parked close to my bed. I lounge in it smoking and drinking while listening to music from my beautiful bluetooth speakers made in China, positioned at the foot of my bed. At the corner near the right french window, the ceiling had somewhat partly collapsed revealing a damp and dark attic that drips water from leaking tiles at the century old roof, down to a large basin laid on the floor near the front right corner of the shop lot. 

With the frequent rains this time of year, my room will receive drips and drops of raindrops to the basin and the floor boards. Drip, drop, drib, drab....! All day and all night. And I love it. Sometimes.

This is where I live. For now. 

Come sit with me or roll around the bed with me. I'm here most of the time if not, I'm probably with you. Giving you pleasures you never thought possible. 

Not necessary physically but emotionally and spiritually for sure. 

See you soon? Meanwhile...

Be happy wherever you are.

Stay tuned. Literally.

I love you. My muse. My guru.

Photo by Mathew Schwartz on Unsplash

It was in September when I first met her, on one enchanted evening. 

She wore a red dress. She hosted dinner at one of my favourite restaurants in the city. 

Her flattering dress is further enhanced by her red lipstick. Perhaps I should say the red lips gave the whole ensemble it's centerpiece framed by the perky nose and penetrating doe eyes arched by finely defined high brows. 

She had set her sights for enterprises to build with her sons in her NGO to inject the social element into them. And she liked the T-shirt enterprise we started. Hence the audience with her. It felt like being summoned to have dinner with the queen. I don't recall much of what was discussed between the four of us except the visual was more overwhelming than the conversation or words spoken. I've never met a queen before and I couldn't take my eyes off her. I was simply drowning in my sense perceptions. Here was a woman of intense depth and deeper scars. I was captivated as a tiger would a samba deer. 

We were in constant touch ever since. 

The emails blossomed into the occasional coffee or dinner. Most encounters drag on into deep conversations ending up with invitations to her farm overseas. 

It wasn't on my bucket list but I ended up visiting her at the farm a couple of years later. I saw for the first time what she was describing to me at our meetings. I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of my stay there. It was eye opening. I went on Chinese valentine day- Chap Goh Mei and I returned on western St.Valentine's Day. 

Both Cupids shot their arrows deep. I was infected with the idealogy of social entrepreneuship. Much like Mao was with the ideology of Marx.

We kept in touch via the occasional text until she returned home less than a year later after some changes had happened at her farm. She closed that chapter after three years and brought everything home. She had also brought several burdens home with her. 

Chiefly the trials and tribulations of a single parent raising a teenager. And on the back burner the vision that passionately burns in her heart-to change the world, weighed heavily on her shoulders and mind. 

Building a single platform that onboards social enterprises that better the lives of the marginalised with the privileged. To empower the next generation by building world class products and services helmed by world class talents. These were all that our movement here stood for as well. 

She wanted to start a Social Enterprise platform and she needed help. I was always in business mode looking to climb higher up in the consultancy food chain to avoid extinction. Aka Business innovation or better known as survival. I saw the great value of the social element in enterprises. I was game. It was the next level up. I was excited. 

We crafted a loose plan, she took the lead and started off exploring every nook and cranny of the region. We were aligned in our vision of the world we were trying to build. We spoke at length, day and night, we were fully engaged and having fun. We connected at so many levels that we were never at a loss for things to say or do with each other. Even fighting was fun. We were so different yet so intimately familiar with each other. I told my family that we connected at levels that transcend sex. We travelled extensively, I was soaking in the new experiences and numerous new friends we met along the way. She looked happy, someone remarked at a wedding and news spread to several gossip groups. Maybe she does look happy because she was. I could never tell but I certainly hope she was happy though distant, because I was happy being with her.

Literally finalising our manifesto on the run, in airport lounges and hotel lobbies. We pursued the far horizons in search of our dream of making the world a better place for all.

Her defining moment for me was the time when she delivered a monologue that lasted over an hour convincing the professors, doctors and staff of the top Asian University to start a joint venture enterprise with us. 

She calls herself a social impact investor having invested in one of the largest NGOs in the region if not the world in helping families out of abject poverty. Except instead of just investing money she throws herself and her family into it by moving there and working on the ground. The heroic stories she shared with me were as endless as they were inspiring. If not for her I would not be where I am today. 

Me. 

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would get acquainted with such an inconvenient not to mention unglamorius & uncomfortable vocation- farming. Mine was the finer realm of boardrooms and C-suites. Luxury hotels, fine bars and restaurants. Finely cut suits and even finer cuts of meguro and wagyu. Appropriately accompanied by fine sake or red wine.

I had spent my entire working life of over three decades eeking out a fine living in the city. The very thought of farming the soil never quite sat with me. But that changed when I met her. I was more open to the possibility. More importantly the numbers worked out very good. 

She. 

She left the life of the board rooms and C-suites having seen the futility of excesses, into the space of socialism. Social Entrepreneuship. Building upon her experience and learnings from her hands-on investments and experiences in the world's largest NGO for over three years. She was ready and capable. 

She had been looking to use her well accumulated knowledge and expertise to build her own farm to start her Social enterprise platform and school.

I wonder if she still wants to do that?

On that fateful enchanted evening, I thought I was the tiger stalking a deer but I realised she was a dragon in hiding. And I a crouching tiger.