Skylark and its Saudade

Note to readers:
I wrote a more fiction-like post, basically a short story, which talks about more or less the same thing this post does.

But it was written in a much more emotional way and I certainly added some imagination to it, making it a bit more sensuous, in a sense.
It is partly imagined, partly inspired and partly real.
I named the story 'Skylark and its Saudade'.

But since I wrote it with inspirations from my recent night out and memories from my favourite jazz bar  which just did its final gig before temporarily closing for renovation (thank god it's jus temporary!), I'm afraid the story is too fine a blend of imagination and real life incidents that would only confuse some of my readers.
So in order to prevent that, I'd rather not post it, at least for now.
For your information, I already wrote a disclaimer on the story which says: 'Any resemblance may not be coincidental'.

So before I'm ready to post of my fictional post, I give you this version of 'Skylark and its Saudade':

Skylark and its Saudade

Music is a language of emotions and memories.
A familiar song always have the magic power to time-travel me back to certain special moments, good or bad.

I seem to have this eternal weakness.
Whenever the restaurant plays a familiar tune or the bar plays some particular songs that give me dejavu, I'm always paralyzed with nostalgia and emotions.


There is something ineluctably seductive and addictive about jazz.
Jazz does things to me--makes me sway, makes me smile, makes me melancholy with nostalgia, soothes my sadness and also turns me on.
It always send a tinge of electricity to my ears and down my spine, awakens every cell in me and melts me at the same time.
Then leaves my body very slightly trembling, with a flicker of lust that linger on the ends of my hair and fingertips.


As the notes flow as deluge into my ears and hit my eardrums, an orchestra of synapses in my brain starts to play.
Then in a sudden snap of synapse, certain things, lines and words, random conversations just start echoing in my head.
Flashbacks of memories begin to flood me and cascade over me an avalanche of emotions.
Again. For the 236th time I guess.
And I go paralyzed for the rest of the day, or even days.

Sometimes music works the other way, when I feel terrible and in a split second when a tune, say a Jason Mraz song, hit my eardrums, serotonin level is back to normal and I'm in delight.

I guess I'm just an avalanche of emotions masqueraded under the shape of a woman.
Hey, I'm just a woman.


One thing I wanna say is that: I feel lucky as my most recent experience where music brings flashbacks of moments in my eyes, those were all precious happy memories that only put a smile on my face.

Thank you for all the pleasant memories.
And I'm glad that certain songs can bring back those memories as pleasant little surprises to warms my heart.

Love,
N

Note: in case anyone get curious, 'saudade' is not English, it's a Portuguese word.
Somehow, I don't quite like the English word 'nostalgia', so I always want to avoid it.
I wanted to use the Welsh word 'hiraeth' in replace of it, but I found the Portuguese word 'saudade' a better match to what I want to express.
And for alliteration purpose, it seems a better word to use for the title too.

Back In Time

Have you ever had those moments that time all of a sudden stop and you feel like you are brought back in time?

Those are the moments when everything seem so familiar.

Those are the moments when it feels like things happened just yesterday but in fact they happened long before yesterday---the feeling of so close yet so far away.

Dejavu, a beautiful French word which literally means 'already seen'.

We have an equally beautiful phrase in Chinese, having the exact meaning. 

Human experiences surpasses races as well as time, don't they?

A dejavu brings back precious memories that are as light and short-lived as fog and as fragile as a soap bubble.

Whenever I come across such striking moment which always seem like to bring me back in time with its magical power, I get so taken away that I find myself holding my breath or breathe as softly as possible.

Those moments are so precious that I fear that the sound of myself breathing could break the moment and bring me back to reality.

Yesterday I had a few moments like that. 

So overwhelming that they made me speechless.

I was brought back in time in just a split of a second.

It seems like it was just yesterday that I was a student (and I still like to be one), but I could barely remember how it feels like to be one----so familiar but somehow so different now.

Interesting how a change in identity changes a person in just a very short period of time.
I knew time passes and life goes on, but I savored every second of my mental journey of going-back-to-the-past.

While certain things and people change as time passes, I'm glad certain things and people don't.
Reading at my withdrawing room, still one of my favourite and most soothing things to do.
The scent in the air, the sound of typing on a keyboard, the funny sounds that smart phones gives off, the comfortable silence, the calmness that is so pleasant and precious.

The familiarity of a dejavu gave me something that I have been lacking these days----
a deep sense of security as I shut the outside world out and a moment of peace though perhaps a temporary one.
It feels like time stopped but the truth is time flies.
Open and dive in a book, a few short chats and the next thing I know is that hours have passed.

My journey back in time empowered me.
As I was leaving the familiar place, back to the outside world filled with strangers' faces, I felt peaceful. So much better and more ready for the unknown.
Dusk is the time when feelings and thoughts are particularly powerful.

My mind wandered free with random thoughts.
But having a better mood means my brain comes up with nicer thoughts.

One of the many thoughts I had on my way back home was the flawless and timeless Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.
Earphones plugged in, the voice of Frank Sinatra brought me on yet another journey back in time--the time that I wish I were born into.
The good old glamorous times when manners mattered, when men were gentlemen and women were ladies, when music was better and dance was an art.
I'm very stubborn for certain things and values that sometimes I find myself an alien in this modern but rotten world.
You may say I'm old-fashioned in certain ways, but this is just me. :)

Oh Fred and Ginger, watching them dance is such a delight.
I could watch them hours and still feel amused.

The Way You Look Tonight

Cheek to Cheek

A journey back in time brings back memories so pleasant that I am grateful and humbled.
I dedicate this post to people who I can never seem to thank enough, for simply being in my life and making it so much better. :)

Love,
N