3 years ago, I had one of the best times of my life here. The permutation of the 26 alphabets can barely begin to describe how happy those days were. They can only be described through the emotions poured out of my eyes.
As the bus passed the mountains, trains and skyscrapers, all I could feel was emotions overflowing in my eyes. It has been almost 2 years since I was back in Hong Kong. And 3 years ago, we had the craziest times of our lives. We met at the point in life where we are all starting a fresh blank page. And as years went by, we slowly filled this pages with each other’s memories and growth. We grew together, and this is why no matter how far we are, how long we have not met, the time difference, overtime we meet again, it felt like the time between us never passed. They talk about long distance relationships but no one talks about long distance friendship. Or family. It is tough.
Again, I saw how we all grew. From clueless fresh graduates to curious undergraduates, we have come a long way now. We are flying all around, working on super cool stuff and changing the world, one way or another. Long were the days where we hit every bar in the streets and wake up at 8am the next day for work. Now, we stay up till 1am talking about life, issues and reflections. I’m happy to see the growth in us, really really happy.
It made me wonder, what is home. Is home merely just a place to rest yourself? A secure haven to be 100% yourself? Or perhaps it is just a feeling. I have travelled relatively a lot and met people from all walks of life. From rags to riches to silver spoon spoilt brats, people who hates travelling and people who die to travel. I always ask them, where is home. And turns out, the more you travel, the less likely you know where home is. I mean of course, your passport will always be one of your homes, but is it really?
Singapore is my home and it always will be. I can’t think of a reason to give up my passport. Yet, if you ask me, where is home, I probably would not say Singapore. I am proud of my country, don’t get me wrong. But home is a feeling and Singapore does not give me the feeling of home. Many people I have met on my travels end up not knowing where home is. They have lived in tons of places and travelled all around the world. And still can’t find a place called home. Sometimes I worry I become one.
Well ultimately, home is a feeling. It always is. It is not just Hong Kong that is home. The Netherlands feels like home, and so is North-west Germany. It always feels different to be back home, but I’m always beyond thankful to be home.
Now that I am going to call Vietnam my home, let’s make the best out of it and enjoy every moment. I came with the mindset of working hard and I think I am doing that pretty well. Maybe even too well.