Thursday 13 September 2007

The Price of Passion

"You're characteristically late," she said, as I drew my seat to take my place. She lifted the tea cup with her wrinkled hands, lifting them to her visibly dry lips as she took a sip out of the cup. We both peered out of the window in silence, overlooking a view of the surrounding city landscape.

"I heard that you've been praying to the Almighty, my son," she said, breaking the silence with a calm and somewhat callous tone.

"Yes, I have, amazingly," I responded in perfect composure, fitting for my dignified conversational partner. "I've been praying for some form of guidance, now that I have an option lying before me; I've been wondering if this is really what's meant for me."

"I know that you've been striving for this for forever now, to pursue your passion," she said with a little sparkle in her weary eyes. "I remember the time when you were, what? 18? And with all the childish fervour, you said..."

"I'm gonna try to do what I can here to get as close to becoming a Game Designer as I can, and for the rest, I will probably have to go abroad to cover the rest of the distance." I rudely completed with sentence with a stirring sense of excitement.

"Foolishly naive, my son, foolishly naive. But I guess that's what dreams are about; where passion is priority and logic & reasoning take second place. But maybe, just maybe, that is what I like about you; the rawness in your pursuit for passion," she said with a wry, tilted smile.

"Perhaps..." I said sheepishly.

"It must be a Godsend to you for this opportunity now, all without having to leave the comfort of familiar shores. But still, before you make a choice, I have to warn you of the possible consequences of your potential choices," she said sternly.

I nodded slowly in acknowledgement.

"In short, you have two choices: the high road is the road to riches; you'll be entering the rat race and climbing the corporate ladder. Your success will be measured in socially well-defined terms: your career standing and your monetary income, which in turn buys you the high life and all the fancy things you will probably want. It's not going to be easy, you'll burn weekends, lose sleep, and all. But you have the advantage of youth on your side, and more importantly, your uncle; and I have to say, myself as well, think you have the potential to achieve success if you so choose this path."

"I would think so too," I said cockily, earning myself a rather resentful glare from the piercing eyes hidden beneath the telling signs of age.

"The other path," she continued, "is the path of passion; the low road. Obviously, you would be pursuing something that you're passionate about, or at least, you think you are passionate about, very probably against the better understanding of many, if not, most of the people around you. But seriously, how much are you willing to pay for this passion? Have you fully considered the Price of Passion?"

I listened earnestly as she continued. "Foremost, is the Opportunity Cost. Would you be willing to bear a monetary opportunity cost of AT LEAST a good $500 monthly, possibly more if you so choose to take the high road, all in the name of passion?"

Before I had time to answer, she continued, "And what about Prospects? Would you want to risk entering a fledgling industry, one in which its very existence in the local context is not assured for, say, even the next 5 years or so? Would you choose to take this risk over the stability you could find on the high road, or any other established industry for that matter?" she probed.

"Not to mention the Possibility of relocation. Even though you manage to avert going overseas to pursue your passion for the time-being; in the long-run, more likely than not, you would still have to leave the comfort of all that you've grown to be familiar with in order to further pursue this path," she stated.

"And of course, considering your character, there is the issue of Pride. Are you willing to shelf your pride, biting the bullet to take the lowest income amongst your peers? Think about it, if done right, the high road could make you one of the leaders of inducing envy from societal-defined perspectives. Are you not tempted by this possibility?" she challenged.

I sat there deeply in thought, staring at the lipstick mark on her coffee cup. It was red, a bright shade of red suitable for one of her age and stature. The validity of her words sank into my soul as I continued to ponder.

"You probably need time to think about what you REALLY want, my son." She interrupted my binding chains of thought. "My job here is merely to paint the bigger picture of the potential consequences of your available choices; and in this case, it was integral to state to you the full Price of Passion, before you decide to ransom any form of time or commitment. But still, at the end of the day, it is YOUR choice to make, and no one Else's. After all, Man makes his own *ahem* Destiny," she sniggered.

"Oh, look at the time. I really must be going, you're not the only one who has or needs a Date with Destiny; so many more are in need of my wise counsel at the crucial points of their lives, don't you think? And I only have so much time for each one of you children." she said somewhat condescendingly, as she rose from her chair.

I rose from my chair in accompaniment.

"It was a pleasure, my son. Take all the time that you need to ponder about your Destiny, and when you're ready, choose the life that you want to lead, I trust you'll make the right choice" she said solemnly.

"The pleasure was mine, m'lady. I think I know which way I'm headed now." I courteously replied.

"Jeremy," she bidded, as she stretched out her white-gloved hand.

"Lady Destiny." I replied, as I grabbed her hand in a soft handshake.
She turned around to walk away, but not before turning back to say one last thing. "Oh, and for the record, I did give you a little more time that my other dates, simply because.... I like you. You've always dared to Dream, and I like that in a person," she said with a slight chuckle in her voice, as she disappeared from my sight.

I stood there for a few moments, thinking of the conversation that had just transcended. Collecting my thoughts with the aid of a deep breath, I turned around to walk towards the lift lobby. Staring at the buttons, I paused to think for a few moments, before confidently reaching out to press the "Down" button. I took the low road.


Dream On, Dream On, Dream until your Dreams come True.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Just for the record, telling me about a prior entry DOES NOT in any ways makes it any less entertaining ~ as this particular entry has proven.

I'm impressed.. hands down.

And my dear, i think ur writing has improved since the start of this blog. Congrats~ :)

Jeremy Kang said...

Haha. Glad you like it, my dear. I'm impressed by myself too, haha. At least I was when I was reading through it.

But still, I'm sure the rest of the world STILL find my entries a little too long for the blog norms actually bother to give it a read.

About whether my writing has improved or not, well, maybe its just a moment of inspiration more than anything else. But still, hopefully from here on out, the bar is raised.

sadfszdfasdf said...

Passion FTW. This entry by you was a passionate one, and look at the result - uncharacteristically good writing!

The high road's kinda boring anyway ... you can't exactly stop by the roadside to take a photograph or even a piss. Low road much better.

BTW, my photos of your sorry Tampines are up on my blog ... including one of your block. Ha!

Jeremy Kang said...

Yes, I saw the photos, and drop of said comment BEFORE you actually left your comment here (even though I think the timings of our comments display otherwise).

Sheesh, "uncharacteristically good-writing?" I really wonder if I should be elated or mournful about such a grey comment.

But yeah, I guess I'll be travelling the low road until it one day leads to the high road, or till the fuel for my passion runs dry, whichever comes first...

sadfszdfasdf said...

Haha - I was kidding about the "uncharacteristic good writing" bit. Forgot to put a smiley to soften the blow.