What next?

Met up with two dear girlfriends and ended up feeling more down that I've ever had in awhile.One of them said I've changed. That I no longer see things as an optimist but rather as a cynic.That I now choose to see the negative side of everything and everyone first before being proven otherwise.They said I've lost an essential part of myself.
Yes perhaps I have deadened parts of myself. It really is easier sometimes to do nothing, think nothing and feel nothing. 
Many things have lost their pretty sheen.

In the haze of nullity, it's like a really slow way of dying, and yet on the surface, life goes on. I appear normal. Happy even. Facebook is a farce.

And experience is the lousiest teacher, because it gives you the hardest tests first before teaching you the lessons. 

I used to think that I could shut it out. The all consuming, permeating sadness. 

Shut it out with exercise, friends, work, the kids. 

My friends say "get on with your life", "you have to fix yourself first", "you don't need anyone to make you whole", "you have many things to be thankful for"

Ironically I am most enslaved both by what I have and do not have.

Trying to shut out the depression only strengthens it. 

While I mask it with a flurry of other things, it insidiously creeps back up with renewed fervor.

And it can be debilitating. 

Getting out of bed seems like too much effort.

Putting together a bowl of cereal with milk and then spooning it into my mouth. Chew. Swallow. 

I can't handle it.

I even try to delay moving a muscle just to get up to the toilet. 

The kids create a ruckus around me, demanding my attention with shrieks of sibling bullying and injustice, and I just sleep through it all. 

Blocking out the sound.

Blocking out what I should be feeling and doing.

This is not simply a feeling of sadness.
It's too much sadness and futility at too trivial a cause.
Today the car doors were jammed and I wanted to burst into tears from being unable to lock them.

If I look at myself out of body, from a filtered place at a distance, I am lucid.

And I know it's ridiculous to feel like this. 

I know that I should get up, put on some decent clothes, eat some breakfast. 

It's not a big deal, everyone puts one foot in front of the other and do all these every single day. 

But it is a big deal right now.

The opposite of depression is really not happiness, but rather vitality.

My friends probably have already started thinking of me as whiny and needy. 

Why can't she snap out of it? She has so much to live for. Why is she being such a weakling? 

Perhaps those who tolerate and acknowledge their depression are the ones who are truly resilient.

So I don't really want to talk about it anymore.

And yes I am too weak to tolerate it, choosing to continue to mask it under layers of punishing alternatives. 

This is not a romanticized and glamorous portrayal of a melancholic soul. 

It is crippling and inexplicable. 

And right now I am unable to figure out a way through this fog of numbness. 

The house is quiet

The house is quiet.




No incessant chatter. No bickering. No whining. No one yelling out for mummy every 30s. Everything is neatly in place.


But I hate it. I hate the stillness. I hate the quiet. I hate the loneliness that permeates from every corner, tendrils of past memories threatening to overwhelm me.


It's only 930pm. Saturday nights aren't meant to be like this.


I remember Saturday nights a lifetime ago. Board games, movie nights, late night shopping, crazy play pretend games, sneaking out after the kids are asleep...I didn't even know there would be a last time for these. And I can't even remember the last time it happened.


I feel like heading out to run, to tire myself to the point of exhaustion yet again.
To shut everything out.
Don't think, don't feel.


No I don't really have an inexhaustible well of energy. Exercise is just a crutch to get over the pain and burden of life, some of which are still hard to mask.


I know all too well how it feels to be at a point where you are consumed by desperation, hopelessness and loneliness. It's all consuming and you feel that there's no way out. And I know how it feels to think about the only people you love more than life itself while you are thinking of giving up on life. I've been there.
It took everything to claw out of that dark place.


The house is quiet.


One day the kids will truly be off on their own lives.
One day will be the last time they scamper cheerily through the front door yelling for me.
One day it will be the last time they sleep in their rooms just across the hallway after I've kissed them goodnight. The last time they want me to follow them upstairs because they are afraid of the dark. The last time I read a bedtime story or stage a crazy puppet show and hear them holler with laughter.


And I will not even know its the last time until there are no more next times.


The house will really be quiet then.


And my greatest fear then is there will not be anyone for me to do nothing with.


I hate this silence.

Letting go

I have a wound and it seems to have been on my skin forever. It used to bleed profusely and caused me much anguish. It has since healed over but the healing process has taken such a long time that I do not even notice its presence when I accidentally brush against it occasionally. I scratch at it sometimes, out of boredom and curiosity, but the drop or two of blood that oozes out hardly makes me flinch.

I am letting someone go.

This person is my wound that has healed over, a wound that will never quite become a scar, but yet will always be part of me.

I have to do this necessary act of self-preservation, before I can expect to properly move forward in life. And to me, this act of letting go seems as if its almost some kind of victory.

I have been embroiled in an emotional fog that has blanketed me for the longest time, a state of despair and disorientation that has prevented me from being aware of just how hopeless the situation has become.

Well meaning friends have been nagging that I should really wake up and do the right thing by myself, and that life can go on even if this person is no longer going to be a major part of it. Yet I stubbornly chose to not heed their well intended advice and continued to trudge down a despondent path, chasing an irredeemable dream; each step becoming more and more disheartening.

I do not know exactly when was the exact moment that something clicked inside my head. It was definitely not as though i simply woke up one day and felt totally fine and happy.

I guess I simply started to forget, feeling the acute pain of the futility of my longing less and less as each day went by.

I think there will come a day when it wouldn't even hurt at all anymore, and I'll probably not notice it too, because I have now willed myself to think about and focus my energy on other things.

I have decided to let everything go in order to remove the turmoil that this person has wielded from his place of power for so long. Because if I pick and choose memories, they will just bleed into one another, spiralling into an uncontrollable series of flashbacks.

I cannot simply think about the time the two of us sat on the beach talking for an entire night, or the time we spent together during our school days, or how we supported each other when we were down and out. Because if I allow myself to think about any singular memory, it will not only start to remind me of all the other good times but also of all the promises made and ultimately broken. 

We had an entire story, and  in order to let go, I cannot and will not choose the memories that i want to isolate for nostalgia. Perhaps one day I can think about each memory in isolation but till then, I am choosing to simply wipe my slate clean.

I have stopped caring about what that person is thinking about or doing at this very moment, or obsessing over whether a "Like" or not on Facebook means anything more than it should,  or thinking about what I could have done differently to make that person choose to stay by my side. I am letting go of everything about this relationship that means something to me, because life can be just as good, just as beautiful, without this person in it.

I have written before that I don't want to learn not to feel. I remember emphasizing that if i dont feel,  ill forget how much i cared. But this time I have to stop feeling.


And some days, I catch myself thinking; I guess this person has no effect on me any longer, and probably vice versa, and it feels very much like a small death. Ironically at the same time, I feel the certain kind of relief and freedom that comes from not having to second guess and be chronically disappointed ever again.

I am letting someone go.

And this time it is for good.

No more regrets.

No more looking back.

 

Everything ok?

I always get sentimental at the close of a year and this year i am particularly so. It has been just that little bit scary and lonely as i tried to find a balance on my own. On a scale of one to ten on how well ive coped this year, I guess I passed. 

But anyhow, life's full of hits and misses and I'm thankful for all the adrenaline filled and warm fuzzy hits of 2013.

On family, friends and life...

 It was a humbling experience volunteering with underprivileged kids in Vietnam this year. Their cheerfulness and content despite their limited comforts made all that we take for granted back home excessive. I made some awesome, selfless friends in the process and ill work alongside them again in a heartbeat on more projects this year.

I backpacked in Sri Lanka with my best friend and it was the most unforgettable experience of my life. We did all everything unconventional; from going out to sea with fishermen, to chatting up locals on board third class...we had experiences that you only watch in movies. 

Im so glad we had this chance to do all that we did and i wouldnt have it any other way. Thank you for showing me how a trip should be truly enjoyed; without the stress, the unhappiness and the simmering anger, that things can be worked out with a little patience and acceptance, as with everything else in life. 

I climbed an active volcano that was a challenge every single step of the way. . Perhaps being on the wrong end of 35 is a wake up call to run the proverbial marathon or climb a mountain before one becomes too old/too tired. Nevertheless Rinjani reignited my spirit of adventure and 2014 will see me scaling new heights and exploring new terrain.

 I brought my kids to our first ever threesome trip to Taiwan on the heels of a girlfriend and her family. It was exhausting I must admit but the fun that the children had more than made up for it.

I completed my quota of 12 races this year with one of them being an overseas race. I achieved my PB thanks to my bunch of inexhaustible running kakis who never failed to push me to my limits. (Sometimes even to the point of puking)

I went back to my first love - badminton, and managed to stumble upon a regular group to play with. The bonus is that this group is a wonderful bunch who not only are badminton kakis, but have also become close friends as well, hanging out for suppers and coffee and offering a listening ear when I'm down.

I made newfound friends who share similar life experiences and who have picked themselves up so courageously to make the best of their situations. You know who you are and I am honored to be able to confide my hopes and fears to you, for only you guys understand the struggles I face. I reconnected with old friends who inspire me to take life by the horns and face each day with upbeat optimism. Thank you for keeping me company all those lonely nights, as we poured out our woes and lamented about our fates over dinners and drinks and music. 

My kids have become more important to me than ever before. I realized that in a world that constantly lets you down, they are a constant and that their unconditional love and acceptance is all that I need when I need a little (or a huge) pick me up. 

On love...

I floundered through some misses in this arena this year and i sometimes wonder what had possessed me to make certain decisions. 

I realize that i need to find a man who will fight to be in my life no matter what. I need someone who knows that love is hard work, that relationships are never always about the good times.  I want someone who understands that the loving, laughing and the goofy times are worth the fighting for the fighting throws up important issues that once ironed out, will strengthen the relationship. 

I want a man who will make it his life's mission to make me happy because he is convinced that only he has the right to do so. 

Is it too much to ask for a man who intuitively knows what to do when im happy or sad, and who pays attention to details of my personality? Is it too much to ask for a man who recognizes the girl who simply needs to be cuddled and held and cared for but yet admires the woman with her ambitions and dreams?

 I want a man who will always believe in his heart of hearts that we should be together; a man who will never give up on me no matter what. 

Perhaps I am trying to kid myself. Perhaps all my well meaning friends are right and that I should not settle. 

All i know is, through it all, two words keep popping up in my mind now and then.

"Everything ok?"

I remember the support that came at the back of these words. I remember the genuine concern for what's happening during my day. I remember the familiar comfort of these two words and how they became my crutch to get through tough days. 

"Everything ok?"

"No it's not ok. But maybe this year ill find a way."

Juggling grenades

Some time ago my Facebook status read: I feel like im juggling grenades.

Yup one of those cryptic statuses that drive people nuts trying to decipher.

Lest people start detesting me for being one of those sympathy eliciting irritants on Facebook, allow me to explain.

With the expiration of my marriage, i was handed 5 grenades which i have to constantly keep up in the air.

My kids.

Work.

Friends (family included).

Dating.

Exercise.

They are timed to diffuse spontaneously sometime in the future. But i have to keep them off the ground right now. Let a single one drop and it blows up in my face. 

But ive learnt that strangely, i am intrinsically equipped with the skills and tenacity to juggle all 5.

On good days, when im on a roll, all 5 grenades are up in the air. There's an easy momentum to things and not much effort is required to keep them rotating gracefully. Nothing to it. I breathe easy and touch each grenade lightly as it flits past my fingers. I marvel at them twirling in the air.

My children are happy, well behaved and doing well on all counts. We have great fun together and i manage to engage them meaningfully. They get mummy (and daddy) rolled into me.

The work front is good. Events at school are run without a hitch. We get more referrals, our reputation grows. Everything flows smoothly.

Hey i can do this! All i have to do is keep the grenades whirring in the air, far off the ground. 

My social life is buzzing with activities. I hang out with girlfriends, have supper with hall mates, have impromptu picnics, go drinking, karaoke, catch movies, hunt down live bands...im having loads of fun and doing all the madcap things that i love doing.

My dating life is a blur of happy moments. Is there some glimmer of hope that i see on some kind of potential future?

Im positively glowing from all the exercise im getting in. Yoga three times a week, runs every three days, tee shirt drenching badminton games, monthly races.

I feel like i can juggle these grenades forever. Ive gotten the hang of it!

Grasp, twirl, flick, grasp, twirl, flick. 

I dont think, i just do. 

Easy peasy.

And suddenly, i get a crick in my arm. My wrist is sore and my fingers bevome clammy and unsteady.

I still keep the grenades in the air but the easy grace is gone. 

One almost crashes to the ground. 

I struggle to regain momentum. 

Darn, why did i throw that one so far out i had to stumble forwards to catch it again?!

I think about the grenades. One day they will be diffused and i can finally set them down on the ground but right now, the timer on their tickers still show a long way away.

And so i continue to juggle.

My daughter does well at school. My son graduates from preschool. I achieve my personal best timing in a race. I made peace with my family. I meet new people and have interesting, new experiences. I look good, feel good and think maybe i can still have it all.

But a grenade almost hits the ground. 

Shaken, i restart the twirling, albeit s little slower this time. And with a greater deal of uncertainty. 

My fingers are cold and clammy. What if i really drop one?

I am nervous and upset at my inability to focus.

Something has gone wrong at school. Staff issues, parents are unhappy. 

My kids exhibit behavior that is out of sync with their normal dispositions. 

The person im seeing disappoints me.

My friends are all basking in their own cocoons of happiness to bother much about me.

These issues are real. They crop up on me, more often than not.

Almost reflexively, i catch hold of the dating grenade and set it down gingerly. Please dont blow up in my face i silently implore it. The peace of mind that immediately comes from not having to think about the idiocyncracies and needs of another person lets me find balance once more. Cupid has as much credibility as the Tooth Fairy anyway, seriously.

I juggle 4 grenades now, keeping one vigilant eye on the one on the ground.

Now dropping my dates didnt seem to do the trick. In fact the whole juggling act is now out of whack. I cant find the rhythm anymore. If i dont set down more grenades, they are all going to fall and blow me apart.

Hey but maybe if i throw the grenades far enough, i wouldnt be harmed by the fall out. That seems like a good option...

But while i ponder about throwing the grenades far away or continue trying to juggle them, everything falls apart. Nothing goes right at school. Im constantly on my fone with work while im with my kids. Our relationship suffers. My friends are upset with me for not heeding their advice and always trying their patience. I am a snivelling, complete mess.

And so i make a choice. Im throw my dating, friends and exercise grenades as far away from me as i can, keeping just work and my kids up in the air. I vow that i will never ever let these two come crashing to the ground. 

The discarded grenades blow up a distance away but im still here, with my two grenades still up in the air, unscathed and just that little bit worse for wear.

And yet after some rest and regrouping, I am handed 3 new  grenades with reset timers. And with renewed energy and vigor, i start juggling all 5 again, hoping for the day their timers run out and i can finally set all of them on the ground, resting my exhausted arms.

Am i doomed to juggle these grenades for the unforseeable future?

Sometimes I really wish i was just juggling rubber balls instead. 

Finding middle ground

To my best friend...

Ive come to the conclusion that people want you more only when they think they dont have you.

And you're right. In a relationship, the person who cares less is the one who controls the dynamics of the liaison. And to the person who cares more, it will always seem as though they are chasing elusive affections and attention.

You know I am hopeless at not caring and equally clueless at trying to act like i do not care. But i am learning from you that to emerge from a trying relationship unscathed, you have to appear like you do not care. 

You know how to be the one who doesnt text back, who doesnt call, who leaves the guy coming back for more and who acts like you dont give two hoots whether he really does or does not. 

Im trying to be like you. To protect myself and not have expectations. To really recover from it all. To essentially be the person who cares less or acts like they care less. 

Im trying...but not giving a damn doesn’t make me stronger or wiser or even happier. And either way, caring too much or not caring at all comes with its fair share of pain.

Not caring just makes me feel less human. 

It makes me feel less and less.

And i dont want to forget.

When all is said and done, everybody needs a person. It is human to want to be loved, to want to be taken care of and to want to take care of someone else. To deny that, is simply to deny one’s humanity.

Being like you does not come naturally to me. So even if you tear your hair out trying to tell me that being the person on your flip side has too much potential damage, i cant see it.  

I dont want to see it because the irony is, i think that im the one who's doing it right. I belong to the category of hopeless people who let all their emotions out at once, who will tell you how much they care or love someone right from the outset, who essentially will show hand and pull out all the stops, until all signs point towards us barking up the wrong tree. 

And i (stubbornly) think we are the ones on the right track. 

I know exactly how excruciating it feels like to be on my side. 

Ive hurt people all because i wore my heart on my sleeve and then cruelly hid it. And no one knows better than me to have their heart broken because they cared too much. Its a bleak, dark place where i hope never to revisit.

I know the journey to returning to being ok is long and difficult.

 Yet this journey is supposed to have been worth facing for i am supposed to emerge stronger and wiser, and less likely to make the same mistakes again.

Ive made mistakes of telling people i love them too much, too often. Ive lost sight of my fairy tale ending, ended up being the person chasing seemingly elusive affections and even getting it all so horribly wrong.

And so you say im supposed to have learnt from my mistakes.  Much as i would like to will myself to do that and strengthen my resolve, i simply cant do it. And you know i will put myself on the line over and over just to try to find the perfected version of what i had lost.

So my dear, my point is if you act like you don’t care, people will eventually start to believe you. And i dont want that.

Therefore if you feel that i care too much or feel too much or love too much, i want to tell you that i think the alternative is worse. 

Im trying to find that elusive middle ground between our two extremes. But when it comes to love, I don’t think there is such a thing as loving too much or showing someone that you love too much. And if there is, I think it’s a state of mind thats applaudable and not something to be ashamed of. Because if you don’t tell people and show people that you do care, that you do have feelings for them, that you do love them, how the hell are they supposed to know?

Im trying to protect myself just as you have lectured me over and over again. But life is short and i dont want to go through it not letting anyone know how much i care, how much i can love. 

Ive been asked before how does one learn not to feel. I dont know because i dont want not to feel. For if i dont feel, ill forget how much i cared.

So if my heart breaks, let it break. Because i dont want to convince myself that im fine when im not. Just be there for me if it happens, ok?

Xoxoxox

Xoxoxo

Regrets

I miss our life together. I miss the silly, happy times; the comfortable companionship, the simple joy of just being together. I still remember flashes of things that we did together, conversations we had, places we visited.

We were really good together, and you know that. And I will not have anyone, not even you, belittle what we had.

You say i dont understand. I do really. My heart breaks even as I write this and I want to tell you that not a day goes by that I don't wonder why things are this screwed up. Not a day goes by that i dont wonder what if certain words had been said, certain things had been done, certain decisions never made. Hindsight is an out and out bitch.

But having said that, I cannot go on living a half arsed life. Yet you have been in my life far too long to just let go. 

There are the loves that can’t be tempered by circumstances, distance or time, and our split that i made myself call was really just a “No matter what happens, i know we will still have this connection.” It was never meant as "goodbye".

Even if my heart hurts in the moments when i recall certain memories only belonging to us, I knew that you will always be there. You are someone I will never be able to truly say goodbye to, how much more so when I had to leave unwillingly.
 

If for nothing else, i just want our relationship to still be as fun as it always was. I dont know if we will go through the rest of our lives with this overhanging shadow, nevertheless that closed chapter is by no means a representation that everything is dead and buried.

So this is me with no filter, cos someone's got to say something and im never ever going to live with regrets again.

Please remember what we had and dont choose to dwell on things that are skewed from reality. 

I need you in my life. For good.

If you are happy now, then tell me and i will find it in me to be happy for you....one day, when and if all wounds can be healed.

 
I really dont want to feel that i have to validate my worth by having someone love me. 

候鸟飞多远 也想念着南方

旅人的天涯 到尽头还是家

下一站 还感觉不来是冷还是暖

天一亮 我又离开

如果我回来 有没有人等待

如果我孤单 会不会谁明白

想像着 再见面却怕自己不勇敢

想拥抱 在你胸怀

时光隧道 传来回音

请你听一听

那是我们当时

幸福约定

有些人 在心底从来没忘记

有些事 有些梦 还找不到谜底

有些话 越欲言又止 就越是动听

让我们 靠近 想悄悄告诉你

多爱你

那颗心 还一直守候没离去

走遍了 全世界 还是你最亲密

记得吗 你最爱的歌 让我再唱起

让我们 相遇 要悄悄告诉你

多爱你

Remarkable Rinjani - I surived

I underestimated this remarkable mountain.

I thought that my relatively fit physique would allow me to scale this mountain fairly easily and I was lulled into a false sense of security and did not particularly step up on my training regime.

I couldn't be more wrong.

The first day of the 4 day 3 night trek started off pretty easily.

Vast savannah slopes stretching for miles all around us, merging gradually into slightly steeper climbs at certain areas. The sun-kissed landscape was exquisite - with cows lazily grazing, tall grasses gently blowing in the breeze, the occasional mist obscuring the breath taking views and the brooding mountain looming up in the distance.

 

Pretty postcard views

We were all fresh and on a dizzying high of being out in the great outdoors and we made good progress initially, steadily climbing as we took in the pretty scenery along the way. 

 

Our Supermen

We had a motley crew of two guides and 6 porters accompanying us on the trek - Juki the madcap, lecherous lead guide, his sidekick Sab whom he ribbed incessantly and their supporting team of porters.

These supermen carried our food, sleeping bags, tents, foldable chairs (after all it IS the luxury package) up the mountain in baskets attached to bamboo poles. They skittered from rock to rock effortlessly, in slippers no less, toting the poles like they were simply huge foam dumbbells.

 

They were always one step ahead of us, making sure that whenever we arrived at each rest point/campsite, everything was readied and waiting for us. They cooked for us, set up our chairs and tents, served us copious amounts of hot ginger tea/kopi/coke/sprite/pocari and gave us massages (okay as for the last one, it was only for us girls!).

Our crew amazed us endlessly with their quiet strength, their creativity in the camp kitchen and their cheeky sense of humour. Juki regaled us with lewd jokes and countless pranks on Sab and we taught him our repertoire of (dirty) words in Mandarin and Singlish.
 

It was a non stop, riot of fun camaraderie all the way up the mountain.



lecherous Juki in his element

 

 

Luxury lunching

As we trekked through the gently ascending wide open foothills of the mountain, the air became distinctively cooler and fresher, a stark contrast to the stifling heat we were all so accustomed to in the city we had left behind.

 

We were right smack in the middle of a huge expanse of flat terrain, a rocky trail snaking its way up the mountain in the distance. Despite the brilliant sunshine on our faces, mist was billowing all around us, offering an occasional cool respite as we approached our lunch stop. Ominous looking dark clouds were gathering in the distance but our guide reassured us that it was a common occurrence and nothing to worry about.

 

 

 

 

And then we saw it. A huge tentage with 6 foldable chairs already set up beneath, was waiting for us. It was a welcome site for 6 aching bums to sink into.

Lunching in shady comfort

Our crew was all set up with portable gas canisters, woks and all the ingredients for our lunch and they were cheerfully whipping up a feast for us. We had fried chicken, mixed vegetables, keropok and rice, washed down with ginger tea and coke, all savored under the shady comfort of our tentage.

 

the camp kitchen

the grub

A Caucasian trekker curiously wandered over from his group who were miserably huddled under some nearby trees that offered scant shade and enviously commented that our fried chicken looked delicious. Needless to say, course it was!

We kinda derived some sadistic pleasure having fellow trekkers shoot us dirty, green eyed looks as we lounged around in our foldable chairs at each rest stop over the next couple of days. The luxury package was well worth every single cent!

 

Green eyed fellow trekker alert!

And so we relished our very first lunch of the trek as we watched our crew use their hands to wolf down their simple meal made out of our leftover ingredients, feeling grateful for their unreserved good nature and cheerful servitude on this trip. Unanimous votes to a truly enjoyable and unforgettable lunch in the great outdoors.

Relentless hike

To say that it was laborious heaving our aching bodies and full tummies onwards was an understatement. But we persisted, buoyed by the excitement of more varying scenery our guide promised that we would see along the way.

climbing past landscape destroyed by forest fires 

 

gorge-ous views

 

The undulating terrain gave way to more challenging rocky outcrops where we needed to exert more effort to negotiate. Our $10 walking sticks came in handy, helping us to balance without putting too much strain on our core muscles.

 

 

 

 

The trek upwards was relentless, with long stretches of terrain meandering up ahead in the distance. We were all at comparable levels of fitness so no one was particularly left straggling behind. We mostly hiked along in companionable silence, pausing occasionally to take pictures of the landscape.

 

local version of goring pisang at one of the rest stops

 

 

Hardy low lying vegetation lined the lower slopes, giving way to a bushy brown carpet that was dotted with patches of green, the vegetation becoming sparser the higher we climbed.

 

tired people kept going by our crazy guides

 

 

Stretching and refuelling were de rigeur at each rest point as we all got ravenous pretty quickly from all our exertions.

 

our view at the rest point

 

elevation check 2005m

 

 

 

 



Juki, with his wide, permanent grin and boundless energy, entertained us incessantly on the uphill climb. He had "Prankster" written in invisible ink on his forehead and his jokes and pranks took the tedium and effort out of the climb. 

 

Almost to base camp!

 

 

 Finally after an extremely demanding and punishing climb for about an hour and a half, we finally reached the ridge where we would set up camp for the night. But the view more than made up for our sore and tired muscles.

 

 

 

 

A weather beaten sign proudly declaring the presence of "Puncak Rinjani"greeted us at the top of the arduous climb

It was a clear day with cobalt blue skies above us. The ridge was a flat expanse of barren and exposed soil and rock and a biting wind was blowing across, scattering the clouds and changing the scenery ever so often. We scrabbled for our jackets before whipping out our cameras to immortalise the landscape.

 

elevation check 2657m

 

Rare still of the peak ahead of us with no clouds obscuring it

 



panoramic view of the ridge

Our porters had arrived at base camp way ahead of us so our comfy deck chairs were already assembled in a thoughtful row facing the crater lake, with steaming cups of ginger tea and platefuls of fried banana fritters set down beside them.

 

basking in the welcome sunshine amidst the bone chilling winds

 

our toilet tent in dazzling sunlight

 

How many of us have had a chance to piss to a million dollar view of an active volcano's crater lake and its smoking cone?

 

 

And so we spent a phenomenal night camping on the ridge, sipping hot chocolate as we looked out for shooting stars flying through a huge expanse of sky dotted with stars so big and bright, they seemed closer than normal. If not for the bone chilling cold and the prospect of not being able to get up for the summit climb in a couple of hours, I think all of us would have gladly stayed outside to savour the mesmerizing night sky.

Sunrise Summit

It was around 2am when we awoke to piping hot ginger tea and coffee.

All of us were not well rested, having tossed and turned fitfully for the past 5 hours in the freezing cold of the exposed mountain ridge.  Alpine starts at unearthly hours are never fun; getting up way too early, groggily piling on more layers of clothes, fumbling around under headlights, unpacking and repacking the backpack you were sure you had already loaded properly the night before and taking the first miserable cold step outside your relatively warm tent.

We started hitting the trail around 230am, muscles protesting vehemently in the pre-dawn blackness.

The initial trek was fairly steep and we passed by many other campsites just further up of ours, the only sounds were our footfalls in the gravelly terrain.  After about an hour and a half, the trail became thick with loose rocks piling upon a 45 degree ascent. Our feet started sinking into the loose pumice stone gravel like quick sand. For each step we took upwards, we sometimes slid back three.

I began to really slow down now. Every step was a huge effort, and my frozen muscles were threatening to go on strike, ignoring the urgings of my determined mind. The menacing trail swallowed my every step and drew me into its depths, mocking the huge amount of energy I expended to edge just an inch or two forward in ankle deep volcanic skree.

Our legs burned and our lungs were heaving in the by now much thinner mountain air. Walking sticks pressed into the soft trail for support, we slowed down to a laboured trudge and concentrated on simply putting one foot ahead of the other and gain as much ground as possible with each step. All we could manage at each rest point were a commiserating silence, the kind that is only forged in times of misery.

We had seemed to make such good progress before but in the pitch darkness, I imagined the summit looming even further away than before.

Our headlights illuminated the narrow pathways, with either sides of us promising a certain quick but extremely painful death with a misplaced step.

As we made our way towards the final climb of the summit, the sun began to present itself in orange-yellow streaks through the clouds. All of us took cover behind a rocky outcrop that shielded us from the biting winds and started fumbling for our cameras with fingers that were frozen stiff.

 

 

surise atop the mountain

 High above the clouds, in the surreal light of dawn, I found myself staring at one of the most spectacular sights I had ever seen.

The panorama was akin to an elaborate Peter Jackson film set than reality. In front of me, the imposing peak sliced through the underbelly of fluffy white clouds.

narrow trail leading to the summit

To my right, the edges of the crater lake had myriad hues of blue, white, pink and brown, its emerald waters glistening in the dawn sunlight and its smoking cone throwing everything into soft focus.

 

Rinjani's smoking crater lake in the first rays of sunlight

 

 

ethereal beauty revealed just a few minutes later

 

To my left, the steep and relentless drop a few hundred meters down as far as I could see, and dotted with a few sorry excuses for shrubs, seemed almost apocalyptic.  

 

don't look down now...

 

Behind me, Rinjani cast an imposing shadow over all the other mountains in the distance, as if challenging any to better its majesty.

Rinjani's shadow

 

 Through the pain and the exhaustion and the dread of still more of both, I felt so alive. I felt so thankful that my tortured limbs had got me up there, above it all, to be able to gape at the exquisite scenery all around me.

At 530am in the freezing cold and pale light of dawn at about 3500m above all of Lombok but still an hour from the summit, Felice Benuzzi's book "No picnic on Mount Kenya"came to mind.

Just like Benuzzi's tale, although our adventure was nothing compared to his heart stopping encounters, this trek has proved fantastic and we all agreed that we had already accomplished enough for us to be proud of.