The state of poignancy

Watching two poignant movies in a row in two days (Saturday and yesterday) instilled in me this sense of extreme calmness, wherein it was impossible for me to harbour hatred or jealousy or any negativities in me – it was a feeling I relished, loved, and if I have to paint what I felt with more precise imagery, I’d say it was like attaining that state of nirvana. I felt completely at peace with myself and the world – despite the fact that both movies could potentially move one to tears.

And all these put me in a contemplative mood. I was so. At. Peace. It’s hard to want to shake off this serenity that enveloped me – and I guess that’s why I love watching these potentially heartwarming, poignant movies that might even force you to think when the credits roll. I love the tranquility that seemed to reverberate off the screen I was watching from, and that’s probably why I was so drawn to these movies like a drug addict would to his stash.

The first movie I watched was on Sunday 2am (though I suppose it wouldn’t count as Saturday in a technical sense) on my laptop – this Australian movie that only saw limited screening, called Romulus, My Father. Based on the biographical book of the same name written by Romulus’ son, Raimond Gaita, it recounts the tale of how an Australian immigrant raised his son, and his relationship with his estranged wife. A typical family drama it is not, and all I can say is that the pace of the movie might not be for those who love action movies – the cinematography is breathtaking, and this true story is mesmerising to the end, supported by an amazing cast (starring Eric Bana and Kodi Smit-McPhee) who played their roles very well.

The second was Accuracy of Death, as it is known locally, or Sweet Rain or 死神の精度. I wanted to watch this Japanese movie so much that because of inconveniences in screening time (both Andy and WH couldn’t go at night), I went all the way to Cineleisure with Wai Hong and Andy to catch the 4.50pm show on Sunday. Starring Takeshi Kaneshiro as the dashing god of death, it offers a fresh original storyline concerning a probably overdone topic of shinigami (god of death) and despite the morbid subject on hand, it’s incredibly moving and thought-provoking – the sort of thing that makes me want to live and appreciate life to the fullest, as corny as it sounds.

After fetching Andy back as he was rushing to cut his hair at his friend’s place, WH and I ate at the chicken rice stall behind my house for dinner.

Then after the usual last minute changes at night, eventually Ding and I went to Shawn’s place to do our Japanese homework in his room – Shawn’s mum just came back from the UK along with his ‘cousin sister’ so it was pretty rowdy in the living room. Andy dropped by too, then after a while, we went off to Andy’s house – not before Ding and I went back to my house to pick up an Absolut Apeach and bought a few things at 7-Eleven to do some mixing, and lemang from the stall near the Petronas station behind my house that was actually open at 1am. O_O

We.. drank. And ate the lemang. And talked. It’s one of the social things that I like to do – a bunch of friends sitting around a table talking over alcohol in the comfortable, intimate setting of a house rather than over elongated tables at a noisy open-air mamak over limau ais where as a cohesive clique we seem to have sub-cliques of our own.

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You know, everytime I attend my Chinese or Japanese class, nearly each time I come out feeling incredibly pumped up and excited in that pursuit of knowledge. My teacher seems incredibly happy and cheerful and positive all the time and views life through rose-coloured glasses, and in that way, her nearly childish excitement of learning something new seems to be rubbing off onto me.

I guess that’s why I looked forward to her classes somewhat every week. Sometimes she even offered us life advices voluntarily, even though we probably must’ve heard them from other sources nearly all the time – like in today’s class, she advocated exercising to us young’un’s wtf.

Just earlier (on a somewhat unrelated note), I discovered that the 40-something auntie in my Chinese class is something of an incredible woman – I’ve always known that she’s the adventurous outdoor type, as she has been running in marathons, climbed the Himalayan mountains before wtf, and trekked through the thick rainforest of Sarawak. Today, she told us that she had driven on our F1 Sepang circuit for Team Porsche WTF and owned a “race car” (no I didn’t ask what exactly it was). ‘course it’s not for the big F1 races, but merely something of an entertaining (expensive) pastime from what I gathered.