Life in progress

Clearing my book cabinet is somewhat like leafing through the pages of my life, again. I could have come across the same yellowing bookmark a year back, or thumbed through the same Christian literature my dad left behind, but the feelings and thoughts, though familiar, are never really the same. I know I will probably never read the Christian books my dad loved buying, but I always put them back in the same place - just in case. I know I will probably never re-read the Chinese books I'd bought back in my teen years, but I still keep them - just in case. Then there are the books that I wonder why I never just threw them out 2 years back. Because, today, when I look at them again, I don't even hesitate to dump them in the waiting plastic bag - to be given away. And then, there are the precious mementoes I have collected over the years. Lyrics of songs I'd written; beautiful handwritten letters penned to me by an old man who loved travelling the world and whom I'd interviewed during my days as a journo; and an old programme booklet of a photography exhibition held at The Substation by a dear friend, when we were all wide-eyed journalism students at university. Looking at these keepsakes, I am amazed that my nondescript brown cabinet stores items of value that can stir up such strong feelings within me. I think I am feeling restless again. I wonder what the future holds?