Passion.

Walking along Charles Bridge in Prague, I could not help but feel utterly amazed by the beautiful sculptures in which every single detail was carved so very quintessentially. There were plenty of them. Every sculpture represented something unique, and that is why to me, Charles Bridge is a story - A story you dwell into with your mind, body and soul.

Even though it was our second time at Charles Bridge, it never ceased to amaze us, except that on that particular day, it was exceptionally colder than before. There was a variety of stalls. Some were selling souvenirs whereas some were selling paintings. The ones that prodigiously attracted me were the caricatures. I wanted one really badly, I really wanted one.

"700czk. Take it or leave it."

"Do you understand or not? I said, 700czk! If you come later it will be 800czk."

I was so taken aback by her brusque words. I knew there were others who deserved the money better, and plus, there were so many of them! While I continued to walk down Charles Bridge, I noticed most of the caricaturists were unavailable or that they left their stall empty for a cup of hot coffee. But there was this one man, this very special man who I could already sense his amiable vibe from afar. He was standing tall, seemingly looking for an opportunity rather than a business. He was not speaking at all. It was just him, with his smile so wide that it seemed like it could connect all the wrinkles on his face at once. It was the kind of smile you could see not solely from the edge of his lips, but also through his sparkling eyes.

"700czk."

Unlike most of the caricaturists there who could converse with the tourists in English almost perfectly, he could only use basic English words, word by word, but he made sure his message got through. The sudden gush of cold wind gave me a shudder and behind closed doors I pondered the question of whether he was cold too, but as if he could read my mind, he answered my question.

"Passion. Drawing. Warm."

Most caricaturists there had a board saying 'Only 4 minutes!', and I was expecting the same from him, except that he did not have a board like that. We were standing in the cold, stagnant, smiling, and subsequently, I could no longer feel my face and hands. But, remember the one very genuine smile of his? He never took it down. He had it the entire time, and that was when I knew - I knew why he was smiling, because he was doing something he truly loved. With every opportunity he was given by a customer, it was his chance to spread his passion for drawing that gave him the energy and warmth to go even further.

10 minutes have passed. The smile was still there. But this time, there were more smiles from the back. Some were taking photos of us while some were recording. Am I finally popular? I thought to myself jocularly. 15 minutes have passed. More people came. Some were showing us thumbs-ups while some had the same smile he always had. 20 minutes have passed. This time, it was him who gave us a thumbs-up.

I could not stop smiling when I saw his masterpiece. It was many levels beyond the ones created in 4 minutes at the same price, and that was when I knew the shivers were worth it. I truly admire people who have a strong passion for something. It is by having a passion that makes you do what you love, and it is by doing what you love that makes you know you are doing the right thing. It allows you to have something to look forward to every day, something to accomplish every hour, and something to share every minute. And that is why, true passion takes time.

Before I continued exploring more stories out there, I looked back to see his smile for the last time.

"My name. Ivan [ee-vahn] Tomek."

Hug.

I was standing in a queue with nothing that could calm myself down. Time was running out. From the corner of my eyes, I could see people whispering, people scampering from a corner to another, people locating places they ought to have gone, people finally meeting their loved ones after a long time with a hug, and there I was, listening to my fast-paced heartbeat that resulted from the incessant running and agile walking, meanwhile wondering on the edge between brimful buoyancy and cynical defeatism, if I could also receive a hug that could calm my flurried nerves.

In front of me, there were a pair of lovely Dutch couple and a Spanish man. The Spanish man must be new to this town, I thought to myself. The Dutch were helping him with the train ticket machine and while I was completely unsure if the machine would also accept a foreign bank card, I knew they could be of utmost help. 

Oh yes, of course! Our friend here is using his Spanish card and there is no problem at all with that! 

Her smile was somehow influential. It was the kind of smile that pierced through all the bad at that moment and suddenly all was well again. 

Are you from China? 

Oh, you're a Malaysian student studying in the UK! That sounds great. 

How are you enjoying Amsterdam? 

..

You know what? We actually have an extra ticket to Central and I figured you might want it? 

In this world, everything works both ways. Hmm... How much should I charge you then? 

Actually, I feel like getting a hug. Maybe you could give me that in exchange? 

..

It was that kind of moment I felt like in burning flames of anxiety I suddenly had a shade to walk under the scorching Spring sun. 

I did not merely get a free ticket, but I also got a hug when I needed it the most without having to ask for it. It just came, by hook or by crook, like as if, someone knew. 

Thank you so much. 

Big jet plane.

When I first went to pre-school, unlike most of the kids who were carefully led to their respective classrooms by their parents, I was left alone walking through the labyrinth-liked corridors, with a ponderously thumping heart but a brimful curious mind, looking for my classroom as stated on the name list, while my dad secretly watched me from afar to watch every single footstep that I made, to scrutinize my ability to seize the audacity I had in me, to believe that the first footstep that I made from the very start, would only end as someone truly magnificent who he could by then look back and say to himself with sheer pride, that's my girl.

At very young age, I have had big dreams. Dreams so wild that made me believe that I could fly. When I was 8, I created a game for my friends in which we all had different superpowers. I wanted to help each other believe that having a superpower may sound immensely absurd. But if we could just take a moment to believe in our inner-strength, we could also reach to the height where Spiderman could reach to, arrive at the flagship point where Superman could fly to. I gave myself the power of flying, because I wanted to be able to take off from a standing start and simply defy gravity to soar through the air with perfect control and land gently on the ground at will. I wanted to be able to unleash, control, and keep. I wanted to fly.

I've always wondered how it would be like to be living far away from home where I could help fix more fragmented dreams out there, meanwhile, building more big dreams for myself to limitless extent. I hope to have more than a pair of eyes to keep up with the brisk ticking of a clock to widen my vision to see more, learn more, and be more. But I found out, instead of hoping to have more than a pair of eyes, it would actually be more awe-inspiring to be a part of a bunch of people who are all given a pair of eyes. And that is when we all can see more, learn more, and be more, together - By sharing and listening. Thus, I've decided to leave home for a new environment to meet new people from all over the world who have seen very different things from very different perspectives for which umpteen seeds of voices grow. 

3 months ago, a vehemently big jet plane brought me to where I am right now. Why do I call it big, though? It's because it was where I unleashed, controlled and kept. I was unleashed, because after years and years of building up my dreams as if I was merely building sandcastles in the sky, I was finally another leap closer to reaching more of what I had always yearned for - To be let loose and unbridled. I became my own man of control. With a heavy heart that made every single second more onerous and wearying, I knew it mustn't be a constraint to me because it would only hold me back. I had to control - By looking forward, and not look back. Not looking back doesn't mean abandoning. The overflowing memories, be it good or bad, were boldly kept in an indispensable place in my heart - And in that uniquely big jet plane, I flew.