on monday night, i watched trainspotting. (as you might have read previously) in other words though, you can say that on monday night, i watched people injecting themselves for almost 2 hours. then, over the past few days, i underwent a total of 3 jabs myself. for vaccinations against typhoid, flu and hep A. my parents want us to have all these jabs as protection before we fly off in about a week's time or so.

on thursday night, aunty and mama came across my rgs year 2001 yearbook. i was flipping through and found a picture i had not seen there earlier. it was at our farewell assembly and there was a big picture of me hugging miss leow! how come i didn't see that earlier?? ANYWAY, this is not the point of this paragraph. i was putting my yearbook back into the cupboard and the sight of my booklet from my US school fieldtrip in year 2000 greeted my sight. it made me recall an incident of how i got a scolding from a teacher one night for some stupid thing which made me feel bad the whole night. that booklet was like my diary for that trip. we were made to write in it everyday. i started reading it and suddenly, everything just started coming back to me. it was a really great trip and the first time i had been away from my family for so long. then, next day, i was in school "mugging" for the first time this week when melt msns me. "wanna go work and travel in US?" i go, "really? ok!" and so the next day, (which is today which is saturday), we made our way down and signed up for it. looks like i'll be away for 3 months in the states next summer. to think that i was reading my US fieldtrip journal the night before haha. (ooops, better get down to telling papa)

(but aiyar, pravin's going into the army, and if i'm going to the states, then jeevan how? and then, there's also the camps and all that, what with some of our dear friends leaving us soon too. but will there ever be a RIGHT time?)

also, the topic of elderly dying has been replaying ever since i read junkhoo's entry about her late grandma. today, i was in the office in church stapling some stuff together with colin when a few people came in and started talking about this guy who passed away. and that he had cancer before and fell into a relapse and all that. discussing whether padre pio was going down and stuff. i wasn't really listening. just caught those. then i looked at colin and his mouth was agape. "uncle vincent!"

"who's uncle vincent?" i said.

"that guy, lar. the white-haired man. always go for mass."

uncle vincent's passing has been such a mystery. as was his life. he really made me smile everytime i saw him though. he used to play his recorder at the busstop while waiting for his bus after mass. before mass, he'd randomly go up to anyone sitting outside the canteen and talk to them about anything and everything. noone really understood but we all had a clue he was actually very smart. recipes, history, maths, he never ran out of topics. he'd talk to himself alot but i don't think he was actually intending to talk to himself. i think he really wanted to share everything he knew with anyone and everyone and it didn't matter whether we were really listening or not. no matter what though, he'd faithfully come for mass everyday. many stories have been passed around about his past and what made him this way. stories about his family. his mom. a deceased wife. all that. but i wonder whether anyone really knew.

just now, we decided to go to his wake. but even the most well-informed people in church didn't really know where he stayed. finally, we got the name of a road and managed to find the house. but there was no wake. no coffin. everything looked normal. we looked like a bunch of hooligans in terence's van waiting outside his house and peering in, bewildered at the lack of activity. funnily, we already knew the funeral day and time. there was just no wake at that house though. strange.

whatever it is, i really thank god for allowing me to have experienced the wonderful, colourful, intriguing uncle vincent. i wish i could've known him better. let him ramble a bit more to me. listen more to his simple recorder tunes. isn't that what we always say? i hope he's happy where he is now.

the funny thing is, that he probably didn't even know any of our names and perhaps didn't even know we existed. yet, we all know him and grieve his passing and rejoice in the gift he was to us all.

this post wasn't really supposed to turn into a tribute to uncle vincent. it was supposed to be about the strange coincidences of the week. the "omens", signs. (if you read the alchemist though one particular soul out there surely recommends you do not haha =p) well, nothing really is a coincidence in shireen's world.

god bless, uncle vincent!

and god bless you. good night!