16deg in Köln and some thoughts

when i heard about what happened, the reason why i could take it objectively was because i had kind of expected it, and because i have seen it happen before.

there is a difference between friends and contacts. i would prefer the term acquaintance, but 'contact' is the buzzword nowadays. and sadly so. contacts are people you look for only when you need a favour or two from them. friends are people you always look to.

of course we always want to have a special group of people whom we are especially nice to. we accord them a special status. there's nothing wrong with this. but love is not exclusive. it doesnt mean that the other people are worth nothing, and can be left to die. or we save them only if we deem them to be of some value to us in the future.

some harvard professor was saying that young people of today should start learning to build relationships at this early stage, because the people you are talking to could be the next president, the next chairman or something.

it is precisely this kind of bullshit that young people are reading, adults are espousing, that our society is becoming more and more like a rat race, if it isn't already one.

make friends, not contacts. get to know someone not because he may find the next superdrug, but because he likes football. it's really all these simple things.

and it only takes a little bit from each of us to make this world a better place- like holding the door open so that the running stranger can get onto the tram.

for their own sakes, for their own souls, i hope they see the light soon. and the place they are in is actually one of the best place to do that.

and of course, we have every right to feel frustrated, to feel indignant. but always put your hand to your heart, and remember that last line of wilhelmus.

heb ik altijd geeerd

the problem with winning the rat race is that you are still a rat- lily tomlin

the mother of all comebacks

football is a funny game, really.

when matthew taylor scored against the run of play, i thought everything was still under control. then diaby got himself sent off. still ok. then taylor got another goal, and i thought, that's it. 2-0 down, 10 men. bolton gotta be absolutely losers to throw this game away.

and the first fifteen minutes of the second half showed no sign of that happening.

then corner. gallas ghosted in at the far post. 2-1. then arsenal woke up and started to play a little better, and bolton got a little panicky. flamini reached for the ball in the box and was felled. van persie converted the penalty. and then van persie blasted two chances over and wide. and with injury time approaching, hleb cut the ball back, fabregas swept it towards goal, and it bounced off a defender. 2-3.

it is by no means pretty. we made it hard for ourselves. like i always say, totally unnecessary. but at the end of it, we pulled it off. to prove what, i don't know. i am just thankful for the three points, even though from the 15th minute right up till the hour mark, it was one of the worst display of football i have ever seen from us. all those stray passes, all the miscommunication.

but we pulled it off. and the most important thing now is to keep our heads down and take it one game at a time. and not throw everything away again. this result was very hard-fought. if we don't get the results we need, be it in the champions' league or in the domestic competition, then we need not have won here tonight. so we better not waste it.

shut up and win.

gilberto: If we win our seven games we still have a chance. We cannot afford to be beaten.

you can't even afford to draw. and even if we win all 7 games, we may still not win the title. get that very clear. there is only a chance. even if we beat man u, we still need someone else to beat man u. and the most likely team to do that is chelsea. and if chelsea beat man u, chelsea will still be 1 point ahead of us, so we need someone to take points off chelsea. and who is there? and even if man u loses to both us and chelsea, they will probably be ahead on goal difference, because we can't score more than 2 goals per game. so we still need another team to hold them to a draw to make them drop points. that means in the remaining 7 games, man u can only win 4 games. you think they are as loser as us to go on a 5 game winless streak?

well, you never know.

all i know is that everyone ought to shut up and go and win the games.

wenger may want to buy hatem ben arfa. why don't we get robinho, if not ribery. and benzema as well. i think bendtner needs to wake up. maybe mario gomez would be an interesting option.

ich bin immer da.

tight contests are usually defined, decided by what has come to be known as 'a moment of magic'.

indeed, david villa's volley against italy on the 76th minute after a poor header from cannavaro is a goal worthy of winning any game. reminiscient of zidane's winner in the champions' league final between real madrid and leverkusen.

holland went 3-0 down to austria before staging a stunning comeback to win 4-3. ok, personally i think this was unnecessary; why not win 4-0 right from the start? but at least we didnt lose this. yet it tells you how vulnerable you can be if you don't focus from the start. that was basically what happened.

and germany swept the swiss aside (again). 4-0. i think klose is the established striker, but gomez and podolski will make an interesting partnership.

at the end of the game, they interviewed podolski and asked him if he was sending out a reminder through his performance of his presence.

his reply was: ich bin immer da. ich war nie weg.

i am always there. i was never away.

he also said that it doesnt matter whether he plays for 90 minutes or 30 minutes. what's important is to show what he can do. he came on as a sub on the hour, created one and scored one.

he took his chance.

but we are only human

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MAKAWVgFgFM

Looking up the hill tonight
When you have closed your eyes
I wish I didn't have to make all those mistakes and be wise
Please try to be patient and know that I'm still learning

at the end of the day, we are only humans.

sometimes, it is also about exposure.

from the movie moonstruck
"Loretta, I love you. Not like they told you love is, and I didn't know this either, but love don't make things nice - it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren't here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us! We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and die. The storybooks are bullshit."

kashima antlers

at the end of this season, when you finally are sober enough to think about all that has gone wrong this season, look east. look at japan. at a team called kashima antlers.

a 13-game winning streak last season saw them overhaul urawa reds to be crowned j-league champions. they went on to win the nabisco cup, japan's equivalent of the fa cup. and although they lost the season opener, the xerox cup, it was under extremely dubious officiating. then the j-league started proper. 4-0 over consadole, 2-0 over tokyo, 9-1 over krung thai bank in the acl, 6-0 over nam dinh in the acl.

and after the 6-0 win, the coach talked about taking one match at a time, masashi motoyama talked about the challenges ahead, uchida apologised for a poor performance(he only had two assists).

nobody talked about winning the double. nobody talked about how good they were.

i watched the highlights: they hardly celebrated when they scored. in fact, they were supposedly annoyed that they didnt dominate the vietnamese champions more thoroughly.

you can say that they haven't played the traditionally stronger teams like gamba and urawa, which curiously have made indifferent starts to the season, but shouldn't you be beating a weak team 5-0 then? so what's wrong with beating a weaker team 6-0?

they never stop running and scoring because they know there is always more they can give, because they can never be good enough. because they want to totally destroy the opponents.

that hunger, that desire, that humility.

we forgot these.

those stylish emerald eyes

you know, a bad day in cologne is one where you don't see a single stylish girl.

even though the heavy snow made me for the slightest of moment doubt that i was in cologne again, that stylish girl at the station this morning banished that doubt. those stylish emerald eyes in which you can lose yourself.

i resolve to take the 8:24 S-Bahn every day.

so we are indeed losers, after all. no trophy again this season. this is what happens when you forget the basics, when you take for granted that you have done enough. if we had taken the points in the last 4 games, this result wouldn't have mattered.

we can start planning for next season. and i think we should bring in players with that killer instinct. football isn't about winning 1-0 with the goal being rated 10/10 for artistry. football is about winning 5-0 with the 5 goals being rated 7/10 for artistry. that is precisely what man united has done. they realise that they can't pass like we do. but they also realise that they don't need to, because their way is so much more efficient.

we might ahve led the table for half the season, but it counts for nothing. now i realise that where you are in the first 37 rounds doesn't matter. where you are after the 38th game is. only that.

this might hurt, but it is the harsh reality. nobody wins the title because they led the table for the first half of the season. no one is obliged to give them the title because of that. it's never over till it's over. we learnt that the hard way.

update

an update before i go off to heidelberg tmr for easter

valencia 3-2 barcelona
finally something to cheer at the mestalla. valencia stormed to a 2-0 lead in the first half, then let barcelona pull one goal back, before mata made it 3-1. but just when it seemed that we were going through, eto'o capitalised on a defensive error to make it 3-2. we endured a nervous conclusion to the game. i saw the goals, but wasn't really watching, due to the poor connection as well as the ice skating on tv, but barcelona players surrounded the ref after the game. oh well, all i can say is that valencia's season has boiled down to only one thing: winning the Copa del Rey. this is the only chance to qualify for the UEFA Cup, considering our indifferent league form. we have to do a tottenham.

figure skating
i think mao asada didnt know how she became world champion. i thought it was over when she fell and took a while to get back into her programme. especially if you consider carolina kostner's outstanding performance. but amazingly, her points somehow topped kostner. and you know, she entered the round BEHIND Kostner, so that meant that her performance was deemed to be better, despite her fall. well, i am not one to judge, but i was definitely hoping for asada to win, and it's nice to know that falling down didnt turn out to be that costly in that she loses simply because of that. you know, sometimes mistakes shouldnt be so harshly punished. of course it might be unfair to kostner in this case, but at least asada's score wasnt entirely determined by this mistake. that would really have been a sham. and you know, that she managed to recover from it is already something.

i was hoping that asada would win because miki ando had pulled out due to injury. she came into this round in 8th place, and whatever slim hope of her retaining her title evaporated the moment she fell. she got up and tried to continue, but she just couldnt turn. she tried again, but again she couldn't. i think that was the saddest moment. she cried later on as she exited the rink, but i think that moment when she tried to spin but couldn't was the saddest point. it was simply dispair and helplessness.

that was why when asada fell, i thought it was all over.

anyway apparently miki ando has been struggling with injury for the entire season and never got into the swing of things. i think she was also supposed to go for an operation, or hadnt recovered from one. a year ago, she was the world champion. maybe you will call it a fall from grace. but it's really hard to stay at the top.

another former champion who has lost the plot is kimmie meissner, who finished 9th or something. she was satisfied with her performance, and it showed on her face at the end of it. and i guess one has to applaud her for that, for being able to come to terms with reality, for bravely seeing it through.

psv 0 ajax 0
4 points behind, 5 games to go. a win would have changed the equation.

super sunday
super sunday this weekend. i think liverpool will beat man united. they will do it the only way they know- in a tycho manner. so the onus is really up to us to do our part and beat chelsea.

but looking at the kind of crap we have been playing, i don't have high hopes.

i won't be watching. just as well, cos i think i won't dare to watch. but i would like to be proven wrong. i want to regret that i didnt watch it because we play like champions and win. i am interested to see what you can do about that.

all i can say is that if we don't win the league, we are just insulting ourselves, because we did all the hard work, we led the table for slightly more than half a season, built a 5 point lead twice, and threw both away, even managing to draw birmingham, villa, wigan and boro consecutively. and in the process, we basically handed the title to man united.

the only way we can win the title now is to win every single remaining game. or wait for man united to hand it back to us. but the latter is dependent on two things: 1, our ability to grab it gratefully; 2, if it happens at all. and seriously, even if we were able to seize the opportunity, i doubt it would appear.

so i am saying in advance that we have insulted ourselves. why dun u prove me wrong?

i finally realise why people say they rather finish 3rd than 2nd, because it is better not to be in the race at all than to be in it, and then lose it. i don't know what is worse, people remembering in the few months after the event that you lost it, or people forgetting a few years later, that you even finished second.

and the last thing:

football is about winning, not not losing.

promise

She saw him sharpening that dagger. "Are you going to do it again?"

He didn't answer her.

"Didn't you say you wouldn't kill again? Haven't you been staying away from the affairs of the world?"

He had. "But I can't take it anymore. Not when our people are being insulted, our values taken as a joke, all that we believe in and hold dear being attacked by these people who don't understand single thing."

"Don't do it. Please. Don't stain your hands with their blood."

There was hesitation in his eyes.

"Don't do it. For me."

**

There are nice people and people who aren't. Likewise, there are hypocrites and people who are sincere. Sometimes you are lucky and meet the nice and sincere ones. Of course one isn't lucky all the time.

And sometimes things happen to us. Things which shouldn't, because we wouldn't do it if we were them. Our values and all that we believe in come under attack.

Of course we would love to retaliate. And maybe we have a right to that, because if you don't defend yourself, no one will.

But I realize that there is more to life, than this endless politicking. The Zug der Erinnerung exhibition on the children deported during the Nazi times really woke me up. There is more to life than all these. Life isn't a competition with others; people who treat it as that don't understand a single thing.

Life is about living. For yourself, for the people and things which matter to you.

I wrote in the guestbook then. And I ought to remember what I wrote, and do what I said. Because it's a promise.

It isn't easy because we are not saints. Nobody promised that it would be easy, but let's do it, not because we have lost, not because we have given up hope, but because we have been enlightened. Let us do it also in the knowledge that we know, and Heaven knows. Whatever else doesn't matter, because we only need to answer to ourselves.

And when it really gets difficult, always remember that last line of Wilhelmus.

heb ik altijd geëerd

I have always honoured.

yesterday, while we were going to a pub, i suddenly stopped in my tracks. i heard pachelbel canon in D on violin and accordion. two musicians were playing in the passage leading to Hohe Strasse (i believe). quite a few people were gathered around, listening. i did as well.

it really seemed as though time had come to a standstill. i almost wished it wouldnt end. it was really very moving.

and listening to them, going through my own feelings, i suddenly wondered what Ichiro really felt when he heard Ross play Pachelbel in Milan.
**

i realise one thing: i am the kind of person who can take 5 photos of the same thing. people who look at them can say they are all the same. but to me, they are all different, maybe because of the angle, the background whatsoever. that is to say, even if it's a little different, it's different. and that's very important.

i ought to take videos, so as to cover everything at one go.

**
movies which really had an impact on me.

Once

Hero
the part where takuya kimura made his last plea in court. the line which really struck me hard.
"seems like he was trying to live."

Advent Children
i was looking at old entries when i came across the one about advent children. the very first entry, if i am not wrong. and i am reminded of advent children's significance to me at that point in time.

Infernal Affairs
i think it is still the best hk film i have ever watched.

Il Mare
the original of lake house, but way better. i think i watched it more than 10 times, thanks to vcd.

i need the following songs

mink's together again(ending theme to vexille)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jxU5J6H0lEk

lyn's sarang haetjana
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mJ5FGcSaDXA

tasha's ee juh nee
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DzBcxqSaxRg&feature=related

coffee prince ost: white love story and ba da yeo haeng
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6u5kY22ZBUU

tohoshinki's loving you
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jNx4KSYAo2Y

mihimaru gt's merry christmas take 6
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmw_Fa7nICc

gospellers' 約束の季節
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0beXezcNY-o&feature=related
hitori
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ThaBFTvLTqo
gospellers have alot of nice songs. from so long ago. i miss gospellers. amazingly i have none of their songs.

suppose A is envious of B because B has something A doesn't.

we always say: A ought to look at what he has and appreciate it, instead of always looking at what others have.

have we ever considered what A has then? maybe there's really a reason for him to be envious.
what if he has really drawn the joker out of a pack of aces?

it is easy for us to say, to 'advise' from a distance. and we don't go through what the person goes through. talk is free; anyone can do that.

we will win nothing this season.

if you are afraid to become champions, then say so. don't waste everyone's time.

you want to win the double. you can't even beat wigan. don't blame the pitch. you know what kind of pitch i play on?

you talk so much, but when the moment comes, you fall short.

fabregas can be the world player of the year? dream on.

adebayor is a world class striker? you gotta be kidding.

bendtner thinks he is already very good. but when wenger gives him the chance, what does he do? how can he blame anybody for not being given enough games?

if i have the means, i will gladly pay to get gilberto out of this club.

when even hleb plays like shit, you know we are not going to beat wigan.

do you know that man u just need to win their game in hand, and they are ahead? and you waited so long for them to slip up enough to create a 5 point lead. you think you are going to be so lucky again? we had this 5 point lead twice. we could have wrapped up this title race long ago. instead, we have just given the title to man u. we didnt have to go to old trafford to beat them. now if we want to win the title, we have to. and even that cannot guarantee anything.

we played like a bunch of idiots.

do you know why adebayor is a lousy striker? you give him two golden chances and he scores zero goals.

our team is shit, because we have no one who can singlehandedly destroy the opponent. no messi, no robinho, no rooney, no ronaldo. hleb can dribble but he can't score. fabregas can't dribble and can't score. adebayor can't dribble and can't score. flamini can only lose the ball and talk big. rosicky cannot even get near the ball, and he can't score as well. eboue can only get himself sent off, diaby can only lose the ball.

our team is shit because we have no captain. fabregas makes things happen because he is the playmaker, not because he has leadership. gallas brings too much attention to himself. even if you are hurt, you should just go on and not make a fuss out of it. toure leads by example, but makes too many fluffed clearances. gilberto has lost all right to talk.

nobody remembers who finished second.

what hurts me so much is that we can't even win it 1-0. we let the win in milan got to our heads. and i can tell you, if we don't win the league, we are going to live with regrets forever, because this was the season in which we should have won the league by april. do you know why not finishing first in this season is so scary? because when next season kicks off, everyone starts with 0 points. whatever we have done for the first half of this season will be erased. and can you say for sure you can do it again? this season is the best opportunity to win the league. after two seasons of suffering, you come up with the results, and now you are just throwing everything away.

they say that in 1974, holland lost the final because when they were 1-0 up, they realised they were going to be world champions. it was a situation alien to them, and they got afraid. they didnt want to be world champions.

this race is now out of our hands. man u have an easier fixture. and unlike us, they are not a charity organisation. they dun give points to teams that need them. if we were the ones having that easier fixture, then i would say it is not even a factor, because we are so good at giving points to teams that need them.

we are mentally very weak.

barnsley 1-0 chelsea

the night surely belongs to barnsley.

if you thought portsmouth beating man u was shocking enough, then what of barnsley's 1-0 win over chelsea?

barnsley took the game to chelsea in the first half. chelsea was so poor in the first half that you could have mistaken them for some division 1 or 2 team. chelsea recovered some pride by playing like a premiership team in the second half.

then, ominously, when barnsley had the ball on the right side, i was saying: cross, put the ball in. the barnsley player swung the ball all the way to the far post. when i saw cudicini come out, i was 80 percent sure it would be a goal. and then the net bulged. we had to wait a little to confirm that it was a goal; who would have thought that barnsley would really score against chelsea and maybe go on to win the game?

after that, it was all defending. throwing bodies, everything in the way. but still they could not score and along the way, barnsley even managed to be dangerous on a few counter-attacks. and as the clock ticked down, carvalho made a very bad challenge. that he was only booked for that pretty much sums it up: even the referee thought better to really heap misery on chelsea. technically, carvalho could have been considered the last man, because the player was going through on goal.

when the whistle was finally blown, a pitch invasion ensued. who could blame them?

one can only feel sorry for avram grant. he was hurrying out of the stadium at the end. i think he probably wished the ground would just swallow him up. but he need not have worried, cos i think everyone else's focus is on barnsley, not on chelsea, not on him.

a journey 4

London. Monday, 3 March 2008. 10:35

"From Zurich?"

"Yes, from Zurich," the postman nodded, thrusting the mail bag towards me again.

I took it from him.

"I need you to sign here…and here. That's right, thank you very much and have a nice day," he said before taking his leave.

I turned the mail bag over and saw the name of the sender. And smiled. It was an old acquaintance from my summer spent in Zurich as an exchange student. Was it 3 or 4 years ago?

We had briefly flirted then, but it was never serious, at least on my part. Because there was someone whom I loved a lot here, even though we had broken up. I guess it was the same on his part, because I wouldn't be staying; I would leave with the arrival of Autumn. Anyhow, it was more a case of two lonely people seeking solace in each other's company.

Isn't that always the case? People need people, so they come together.

I opened it. Inside, was a card, and something wrapped carefully in white paper. I opened the card, and a small piece of paper fell out. My eyes briefly followed its descent, before returning to the card, reading it.

"Dear Corrine, how are you? I am doing well. Of course it would always be better if you could come back here. But do take care. Regards, Frank. P.S. here's something for you. I think you missed it a lot, and will be glad to see it again."

I bent down to pick up the piece of paper which had fallen out.

"I lost my heart here."

My own handwriting. How could I not recognize it?

I remembered that evening. We had gone out in a group, and had a lot of fun. But my day was pretty much ruined after I discovered that I had lost something very precious to me. What was worse, I didn't know how it could have fallen out of my phone pouch. I searched the places I had been to, to no avail. On the tram back, he noticed my depression and asked what was wrong. Not really wanting to talk, I had taken out my notebook, wrote on it, tore off the page and handed it to him.

I lost my heart in Zurich, a long time ago.

I turned the paper over.

"I am returning it to you."

I took the remaining content of the mail bag in my hand, removing the white paper carefully.

It was a coin. But instead of any picture of any famous landmarks, or any face of any famous person on the coin, there were only three letters. SLC. I didn't need to turn it over to know what was on the reverse side. fae.

Sebastian loves Corrine. forever and ever.

a journey 3

Cologne. Sunday, 2 March 2008. 16:50

10 years ago, he came to her class as a transfer student, cold and unfriendly. His parents' messy divorce had taken its toll on him, making him lose interest and hope, in everything you could possibly imagine. His eyes were filled with wrath. A kind of burning rage. But while everyone else shied away, she came to him, and offered her friendship.

They became very good friends. Not best friends, but very good friends. They almost got together, but somehow didn't. There were a million plausible reasons. But the outcome, there was only one.

She knew that a lot had to do with another girl.

In the end, they moved on. They could have slipped out of each other's lives just like that, but Fate played her last hand.

She got posted to London for a year. For her first weekend, she decided to visit him in Cologne, where he had been working for the past 3 years.

To meet an old friend, she told her boyfriend back in the States.

She was apprehensive at first, not knowing what to expect: would they still be able to talk and confide in each other like the old times, or would they simply be awkward, polite strangers?

They hit it off from where they had left off, as though they had never parted, as though they were back in the days of high school, even though they are both now long past that age of innocence. "Good friends always have things to talk to each other about," he had told her once. "Even if they haven't been talking for a while."

The weekend was a whirlwind of activities. She arrived on Friday night, and they climbed to the top of the Cathedral on Saturday, went to the original house where the eau de cologne was produced, visited the Chocolate Museum because she simply loved chocolates, and topped it off with a dinner by the Rhine. It was too bad that the river cruises weren't in service at this time of the year.

"You have to come back again," he had said.

They went for breakfast at a café near his place, before taking a walk in the empty old quarter of the town. He cooked a lunch of paella, topped off with apple pies and a good Italian wine.

Before they knew it, the weekend was ending, and it was time to return to London, back to normalcy. She almost didn't want to go, but they were now at the airport, waiting for her flight back to London.

There was still time. So they sat at a café, with music playing in the background. Just as well, because they only sat there silently, his latte macchiato and her hot chocolate barely touched.

"That's my favourite group," he said, in reference to the song playing in the café.

"Why?"

"I like their music, and I like the lead singer. I like her voice a lot. And she's pretty," he smiled to himself. "She used to be a choir girl in church, and now she sings with this band, sometimes rock. So it's like an unlikely combination. The beauty of irony."

She was a choir girl in the church. The church he went to after he moved to their old town.

Hearing him say that, she suddenly felt foolish for letting her thoughts stray, for briefly reminiscing about the past, for almost wishing that they could try to make it work again. For even daring to entertain such impossible thoughts.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, Flight LH47 to London is now ready for boarding at…"

"I guess I have to go now," she said, getting up.

"I'll help you with your bag," he said. She allowed him to help her with that, and they walked towards the gate.

"You have to come back again," he said, handing her bag back to her.

She didn't answer that, and he kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Goodbye."

She wasn't sure if she should come back.

She still loved him, but he still loved her.

a journey 2

Basel. Saturday, 1 March 2008. 20:48

"Excuse me, but are you sitting at the correct seat?"

The young man barely in his 20s looked up at the woman speaking to him. She had short, blond hair and looked to be in her 30s. He couldn't really hear her with the music blasting away in his ears, but from her gesture, he could roughly guess her question. He slid off an earphone and nodded.

"But I am supposed to be sitting at 37…"

Now he could hear her a little bit more clearly.

"Is your seat 38?"

His seat was 38. Perhaps he was sitting at 37, his bag on 38. To him, 37 and 38 were the same. When he boarded the train at Zurich, it was empty. He didn't really expect someone to have a ticket to the seat beside his.

"It's okay; I will sit on this side. If someone else comes, then I will move back. So we both have more space."

He nodded and watched as she tried to lift her luggage up to the storage space above the seats. "Do you mind helping me?"

He got up and helped her with it.

"Thank you. Are you going to Amsterdam?"

"To Cologne."

"You speak German?" she switched to German.

His previous answer had come instinctively, even though she had asked him in English. "Yes, I speak German. Are you German?"

"No, I am Swiss. Where did you learn German from?"

"Well, I have been studying in Cologne for half a year already."

"I see…"

"Why is a Swiss going to Amsterdam?"

"I work there. At an American firm. For about half a year now. I was back in Basel for the holidays. I come from Basel.

"I have never been to Amsterdam. Do the canals really resemble the circles of hell, as Camus had suggested in 'The Fall'?"

"Haha…No…Hell wouldn't be that pretty, would it? You must come to Amsterdam. It is very special."

"I will, I will. That's for sure."

"What were you doing in Switzerland?"

"I went to visit a friend."

"Oh."

"In Zurich."

"Do you like it?"

"It's very pretty. Prettier than Cologne."

"Really? You don't seem to like Cologne very much."

"Not exactly…I am ok with it, but it is not exactly one of my favourites. Have you ever been to Cologne?"

"I used to live there for a while," she said quietly, smiling slightly.

"Uh huh."

"Those were the best days of my life. Cologne is my favourite city," she said that with a dreamy expression on her face. "I had so many wonderful memories there."

He looked at her.

"You should know the Hohenzollern Bridge."

He nodded.

"That's my favourite place, in the whole of Cologne. If you walk from the Cathedral down to the bridge, go all the way to where the first two arches meet. Somewhere there, you will see a drawing," she laughed before continuing, "Maybe you would call that graffiti. But to me, it's a drawing of a boy and a girl, with a heart between them. It's not very big. Oh well, it's probably fading off by now, so I don't feel that guilty for vandalising public property."

They talked about a lot of things: Germany, Switzerland, Kosovo's declaration of independence, Sarkozy's love life, and the American elections.

Is it easier to talk to a complete stranger because you know you will probably never see him or her again? Maybe you also think that there's nothing to lose anyway. Or maybe because it's boring on the train and both of you don't really want to sleep. Or maybe you just happen to click with that particular stranger.

After all, it isn't always the case that talking to a stranger is easier than talking to a friend, is it? At least not in comparison with a very good friend.

But they both did get a bit of rest.

It was perhaps 7 in the morning the next day when the train pulled into the Main Station of Cologne, passing through that bridge she mentioned. She was just awaking from her slumber as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

"Goodbye," she said softly. At least he heard it softly, no doubt because his music player was on again. He waved. "Goodbye."

He went to the Cathedral and walked down to the Hohenzollern Bridge from there. He was afraid he wouldn't find it. Because that would have meant that it had already faded off, or had been painted over- like a memorial falling to time, like memories being erased. Despite what she said of her guilt, he was sure she would be very sad if it was gone just like that, without a trace.

Walking along the bridge, he suddenly saw couples along the railing, gazing out at the Rhine, arms outstretched, enjoying the breeze blowing into their face. A guy sweeping a girl's hair out of her eyes. A couple kissing passionately. A couple holding hands as they cycled through on separate bikes. A couple sitting by the spot where she had said the drawing would be, drawing on the metal. The girl laughed and turned to face the guy. At that instant, he saw her face, albeit younger.

He suddenly felt humbled. So much had happened here. So many lives were changed here. So many memories were created here, memories which would be witnessed by someone like him years later.

And he understood that even if physical monuments were to be eroded, or even torn down, memories would still live on forever in the hearts of people. Indestructible.

a journey 1

Zurich. Saturday, 1 March 2008. 18:50

The sky’s already dark.

I am sitting outside the Gran Café, sipping whatever’s left of my maple cappuccino.

I can no longer write.

However much I try, however much I let loose my thoughts, nothing flowed.

Like a frozen Limmat.

I thought coming here could change all that.

He used to tell me long ago, Zurich is the most beautiful city in the world. One cannot help but feel inspired here.

His words seem so far away now…as though from another age, another era.

Like a boat with the rope cut loose, drifting away…drifting away.

As he did.

I came here to hang on to whatever that’s left. To search for what was lost. To understand him a little more.

But still he slips away. Second by second.

The waitress comes and collects my payment. She wishes me a nice evening as I stand up to take my leave. There is still a train to catch.

I walk by the bank of the Limmat.

He was right: Zurich is really very beautiful. But a part of it, I, as an outsider will never reach, will never understand.

Like the fortress guarding a secret.

Their secret.

The church bells ring, resonating and echoing the emptiness of the city, the emptiness of my heart. It is seven.

That’s when I see her.

The girl sitting alone on the steps leading down into the water of the river, handbag on her lap. She seems so alone. As though abandoned by the entire world.

She stares at the reflection of herself, of the buildings on the opposite bank, in the water. Or perhaps she is staring at nothing. Nothingness.

The church bells continue to ring.

I leave her behind, and she slowly becomes engulfed by the materializing mist. Or maybe I had simply imagined her presence.

Reaching the Main Station, looking at that big billboard with the ad of her favourite cigarette, it suddenly strikes me: he still loves her a lot. Maybe more than me.

More than me.

Even though he was with me, his heart wasn’t. Even though he claimed otherwise, I could see that he never got away from her. Maybe he didn’t manage to. Maybe he didn’t want to.

Why else would he still smoke that same brand?

He never kicked the habit of smoking; neither did he kick the habit of loving her.

There was some part of his heart, I could never reach. Some people, I could never replace.

Someone.

I check my platform on the information display and make my way to Platform 16.

It’s time for me to go. I don’t belong here.

berlin

Berlin, 1928, as the events leading to Hitler's rise unfold. an artist escaping the shadow of her father, a major in World War 1, haunted by the loss of her former lover, trying to regain her ability to draw; a journalist; a family split along ideological lines; a persecuted jewish boy, an old soldier filled with hatred, and many other characters...struggling to cope with the changes taking place.

jason lutes' Berlin: City of Stones is a comic, albeit an epic one, the first of a trilogy feeling the uncertainty, the chaos, the pulse of a city, a nation at the crossroads of history. the philosophical musings, the idiosyncratic rants, the pictures of daily life all bring 1920s Berlin to life.

i was at the library today when i chanced upon this book and devoured it straight away, not before finishing murakami's tony takitani in german first. i think this book is very significant because normally we look at history as history, without really looking at what ordinary people on the streets are doing or feeling. this book does that. and it really strikes me.

my favourite part is probably the journalist's musing that the history of mankind is like a river, while the pages are like stones randomly tossed into the river to see what would happen, sometimes forming a marsh, and that if the stones were to be carefully placed, the water flow could be altered. at the same time, he expressed his hope that while berlin was built on a marsh, the stones would be put carefully such that it would be built into a wonderful city.

i think this metaphor is very elegantly constructed.

tony takitani is a short story about solitude. i must admit that it doesn't really stand out. the characters just don't find their way into your heart as the ones in his other works. but it does impact you. it's disappointing by his standards.

veni vidi vici

i wouldn't go so far to proclaim that an old chapter of european football closes and a new one begins.

but if you were at the san siro, if you were watching it on tv, surely you could feel it: it is time for the old milan masters to take their final bow. it's a pity that they won't be able to do it in style. even if you are not a fan, just by looking at their achievements should suffice to invoke a degree of awe and respect.

but time waits for no one.

for 60 minutes, we played like champions. only the first 20 minutes and the 10 minutes in the middle of the second half, where we briefly let kaka run the show, were blotches. and of course, as with the first leg, we should have scored a lot more.

but all these shortcomings can be briefly forgotten for a while. even if we left it late, even if we suffered a few scares.

fabregas' goal was simply a moment of magic. the moment of magic we talk so often about to break a deadlock. only special players can do that. and he has.

almunia- 6
the scares from the corners came about largely because the defence didnt clear the ball when the ball came in. and the deliveries were good. other than that, he did everything that was required. and to be frank, there wasnt much for him to do.

clichy- 6
a few mistakes here and there in the opening 20 minutes, a really last-ditch clearance. very much improved from the last few times i have seen him. i think he and sagna played an important part in retaining possession from our corners, in that they stayed behind and were able to retrieve the balls.

senderos- 7
after a shaky start, he recovered and was strong and calm(mostly) with a few good interceptions

gallas-6
there was one occasion when he shielded the ball away from pato before clearing it. experience v inexperience. tts all i can say.

sagna-6
usual steady game.

flamini-7
i think he did very well, putting the pressure, winning the ball back. that kaka was relatively quiet surely has to have something to do with him. i think he distributed the ball effectively. if a dm can only win the ball only to lose it, then you might as well put an attacking midfielder there.

fabregas-8
match winner. a few brilliant passes and touches. dictated the play. he really rose to the occasion.

hleb-8
he made everything tick, linking everything up. and it was ridiculous that he got a yellow when he was fouled. he is an honest man; i have never seen him dive before, because he just loves to have the ball at his feet, to keep going.

diaby-5
to be frank, he had a few good touches, but basically alot of moves broke down because of him. either he slips, or he loses possession. naive is the best word to describe him.

eboue-5
largely disappointing on the right. didnt really make any inroads. even got himself a yellow. i am glad we got him out before he got a red.

adebayor-7
there were a few irritating moments, as always. but he did what he had to do. and at last he scored.

walcott-7
he should ahve scored, but tried to square the ball. you put a striker on the flank to shoot. but that was wonderful pace to set adebayor up. it could have been more, of course.

gilberto-6
can't really comment, cos he was on the field for a very short amount of time. but he didnt screw us up, and that's always nice.

art, poetry, whatever you may call it, but you know, those 60 minutes was probably the best football we ever played this season. we played like this against a world class opposition in their own backyard. no english team has ever beaten milan at the san siro. i think you can even say that no team has ever played milan the way we did over two legs, and more importantly, in san siro itself.

it is a great, great european night. we came here with so much baggage, with a point to prove- the 0-4 loss to man u, the eduardo injury, the 4 points dropped in the last 2 games, the need to score here. and yet, we did it. with style and conviction i should say. i am proud of what we have achieved. this, together with the switzerland trip, has inspired and given me strength and belief.

but we will win, we will win.

it had certainly felt like a final. but nothing is won yet. we are only in the quarter-finals. but for now, even I can't deny us the privilege of reveling in our victory. we thoroughly deserved it.

god bless arsenal

Zürich

Zürich really took my breath away, when i least expected it.
just before we reached Zürich, i was wondering what it would be like, cos you hear so much of it, yet know nothing about it. to be frank, i wasnt expecting much.
even though it rained, walking down bahnhofstrasse was very enjoyable, because it is really such a classy street. the winding alleys have so much character. then the schanzengrabe, the canal in the venetian mould, before reaching the Züricher See. the lake. the quayside is really a nice place to be at.

then the Fraumünster and Grossmünster. the marc chagall stained glass in the former. woah. i like the area around the Grossmünster. by the bank of the Limmat. benches where you can sit and contemplate. the bridges.

then a stop at the Opera House, then up to Lindenhof, where we got a bird eye's view of Zürich. Looking at the rolling hills, i realise it reminds me a lot of Kobe.
i was so enchanted by Zürich that i went back on Sunday, stayed there for a while before going back to Köln.

I went down to the lake, sat at the bank. then along the Limmat. Isn't it amazing how water can evoke throes of passion from mere mortals? it's like you would feel like embracing, kissing while you are staring out at the lake, at the river.

one of the most images that i saw there, which really stuck to me was that of a girl sitting on the steps leading down into the Limmat. at night. she was just sitting there, handbag on her lap, staring at nothing. then the church bells were ringing. she was so alone. i never managed to take a photo of that, but it would remain in my memory.
i promise that i will be back. i will sit at the Gran Cafe, enjoy a coffee and watch the world go by. like a Züricher. and take a cruise in the lake, along the river, and the gondolas.

37

Once upon a time, an ordinary girl used to like an ordinary boy a lot.

They met under the most coincidental of circumstances- in a café near her house.

She always had brunch on Saturdays there- toast, eggs, ham, cheese, a latte macchiato and her book.

One particular Saturday, she was at her favourite table, tucked away in a corner of that café with her brunch and Coehlo’s the Alchemist.

He entered the café, taking the table beside hers, ordered his own meal and took out a copy of that same book.

At once, all walls between them vanished; from strangers they became friends.

The Alchemist had worked his magic.

Thereafter, they always met on Saturdays, each occupying a table, each reading a book, but always on the same wavelength.

As though they had been friends forever.

She gradually grew to like him; at last someone who understood.

She never said a thing, even though she was sure he felt the same.

Maybe she was all right with this arrangement.

Maybe she was afraid to take that leap of faith, because things would change.

Maybe he too.

But one Saturday, he didn’t turn up.

Maybe he was sick, she thought.

He never showed up again after that.

Even though she always waited, at that corner of that café, every Saturday without fail.

Maybe he isn’t coming anymore, she thought.

Shortly after, she moved away.

And so, it ended before it had even begun.

It wasn’t that they had quarreled.

Perhaps it was just that he was busy, that’s all.

And in the end, they simply got on with their own lives, continuing from where they had left off before their paths had crossed.

Like two parallel lines intersecting- only a glitch could have led to that.

Maybe he had once passed by the café, saw her inside with that book and had bought it thereafter, just so they could talk.

But that’s no longer important now.

Much as she would have liked to know.

They never thought of exchanging means of contact.

Perhaps because they thought it would never end.

Or they didn’t want to consider that possibility.

Maybe when he comes by again, he would remember that at that corner of that café, a boy and a girl used to talk about everything and anything- and maybe he would smile at the recollection.

But it would still only remain a part of his memory.

Just as it would in hers.

People meet to part, she realized.

Nothing goes on forever.

But it once happened.

Written on 2 March 2008, on the CNL 40408 Komet bound from Zürich to Köln.