welcome home

Excuse me for being weak.

I truly wanted to stay away so I could concentrate on work but guess what? This world I’ve created here for my daily musing has become home. And sooner or later, no matter how tired one is, you want to return home.

Which is what it felt like when I logged in. I was turning in the key at the front door to my castle in the clouds. Looking at the blank page under ‘Add New Post’ just comforted me. Without a second thought, I already knew what I wanted to say.

‘Welcome home!’

When we were children, we greeted our parents every single night with that phrase, as they walked through the door. ‘Welcome home!’ we’d holler from every corner of our house, whether it was the tiny flat, the house with a garden, the private apartment…

It was a reunion of the family. It was the coming back to where it all mattered.

Today, I needed to come back to where it all mattered to me.


After a day of fun, sourcing for wardrobe essentials, I was happy and satisfied.

‘Hey, do you have a moment? We need your help next door,’ Jap Girl said to me around 5.45pm.

‘Sure,’ I replied, getting up from my sequin-sewing on the floor.

‘The video we planned is just not going the way it should,’ Burton, the video editor said. ‘It’s just… so hard.’

‘Show me,’ I answered. And as I watched the video, my heart plummeted. She was right. The video was awful. We sat there in silence for a while as I tried to come up with some solution… but there were no answers.

‘Let’s sleep on it and work together first thing tomorrow,’ I finally gave up. She nodded with a doleful expression.

‘Hey, the video we received didn’t meet our requirements at all,’ Cutesy told me as I walked back into the office. I sighed. These videos were sent in from various parts of the world and they were all so important. They are the crucial, climatic moment of the entire program. But one by one, I was watching the pieces in my game plan falling loose from their place. Before I could answer her…

‘Do you have a moment?’ the Mother called on my mobile. ‘I received a call from the housing board and they said that we need to renovate the toilet because of a leakage in our bathroom. They’ll absorb half of the cost but as we need to remove the glass doors… and re-do our entire bathroom to accommodate their repairs, it’s going to be a hefty sum. Oh, and the washing machine broke down. It’s beyond repair.’ Again, before I could come up with a proper answer…

‘We’ll need to complete one of the outfits by tomorrow afternoon. We just got confirmation that we’re going ahead with the photo-shoot after rehearsals and well… the outfit will be ready, right?’ The Husband asked from across the room, clueless to what the Mother was telling me then.

‘Yeah,’ I answered them all. ‘Everything will be ready and everything will be okay.’

I walked out of the office feeling like I’d just drowned.


‘Babe’ Ruth – one of the greatest baseball players in history – once said, ‘Every strike brings me closer to the next home run.‘ I thought about that as I walked.

I was battling a severe case of condemnation. I should have done better. I should have planned better. If I was a better script-writer, a producer, a person! All this wouldn’t have happened. I’d have the answers… The foggy thoughts swirled all around me.

I am closer to my home run. I am, amidst all this, closer to a success that I cannot yet fathom. And yet… I finally broke down. Being strong was too much for me to bear.

God, I can’t do this. It’s just too much. Within a span of 15 minutes, the world had turned upside-down. ‘Why am I doing this?’ I asked myself. ‘What matters?’

Like an ostrich with her head in the sand, I crawled into bed and slept for a while. At rest, the Dream Maker did His work. He held me in His arms while I breathed in His intimate scent. He carefully untied the knots in my head. He took my heart and covered it with His peace. He reminded me that I was loved, that I’m not doing this on my own.

I found home in His arms. I found myself again, where it really mattered.

And now… I am ready for a night’s worth of work. I get this feeling that oddly, I’m going to enjoy it all.

Welcome home.



…at the end of the day, I think Home is something you make, not something you find. Something you’re always leaving, and somewhere you’re always looking for or returning to. It’s part of growing up, and not the best part. – Neil Gaiman

Full estates with gardens, 4-storey apartments, dingy one bedroom/kitchen/toilet apartments, dormitories… I’ve stayed in them all and I’ve realised that home is truly where you make it happen.

Home today is my books, my music, my secret corner (which right now is in the kitchen, at the counter-top when the whole family has gone to bed) and my love… thankfully I can carry these things everywhere I go. Almost.

Recently, I found my home extending as far as my heart grows. It now covers several countries and as the borders of my home snake around the world, I find myself needing less and less to feel, well, at home. Maybe I’m just not as sentimental as before.

Good food for thought as I plan on my next place of comfort.


And as each day passes, we colour in the walls with memories. But like children, once you’re done colouring within the lines, you turn the page and start a new picture. I’m done with the picture I have now. I’m ready for something new. Something awesome.

Aside, here’s a little track by the Manic Street Preachers doing a cover of Rihanna’s Umbrella. I hated the original. Loved the cover. Especially after watching them sing it live in the contradicting sweltering heat.

Umbrella by Manic Street Preachers

Totally random, I know.