Here's to the Nights

went back sunday evening after that wild wild party...no one was
around and everyone had some father's day thing on so i thought i'd
make my way back. the sun was already setting, and for the first time in my life, as i was heading towards the damansara toll, i saw a rainbow over uptown.

almost cried thinking of all i was going to leave behind. you were my life for the past 3 years. and come to think of it, you all have seen my change from the naive idealist to the bum without hope and now finally, someone wiser and stronger. there are some things that have changed a lot in me, and some things which will never (e.g. horniness and skirt-chasing, but you all already know), but one thing i've
learnt that if it wasn't for all of you there would have never had
been a constant in my life, something i could rely on, something i
could fall on.

i know when i step on that airplane, i'll be going into a time
machine; cuz the next timei come home would be in one and a half
year's time. i wouldn't have a home in Ipoh to come home to: my folks
would have already moved to some small crappy apartment in PJ. my sis would be flying halfway around the world with MAS; my dog would be given away to someone. and all of you would be working or making your ways in the world....and i'm sure you'll be far far away from where you are right now.

one thing i know for sure. you have been my landmark in this fast
changing world, at least for the past 3 years. your friendship has
borne me through some of the hardest times i've ever experienced in my life. and i'm thankful for that, seriously i have. remember the time i said in class relationships are better than friendships? i learnt how to swallow that in the past couple years.

my greatest regret is that i don't feel that i've been a friend in the same measure in return. if there only were a chance to make it up i surely will.

please don't forget me. i need something or someone familiar to come
home to.

Steven

It was 4:20am, and Iwas heading home from my friend's hotel room, where I had finished four Baron's in 45 minutes. I couldn't see much of the road, let alone drive. I was tired and sleepy, and I don't know why I didn't spend the night, but it could have had something to do with a surprise visit, some awkwardness, and the funny fact that I actually missed home.

Three hours ago I had settled deep into the shallow settee in the living room, watching Sin City with my dad. It was pirated, no doubt, and enjoying movies on his "home theatre system" was one of his few pastimes. I was feeling comfortable. I was almost considering not waiting for the call.

And now here I was, misjudging a turn as I made a last minute decision to take another route home. Hearing the screeching of the tyres and the loud explosion as one burst, I knew I was screwed. Metal shrieked as it made violent contact with the side wall of the pavement. Hitting the curb at 80, I was lifted up and immediately dropped. I heard the loud bang of the undercarriage against hard tar. I sat, motionless, for 5 minutes. The gears couldn't engage. You wouldn't believe the amount of weird people whom you meet in the wee hours of an Ipoh morning.

The tow truck pulled away. I started crying. Here I was, drunk and smelling of stale toddy in front of the person I was supposed to be the most responsible to. He wasn't silent, but only words of love came out. I was utterly ashamed. I have never been any more in my life.

Glancing through pictures shows you a past you never knew existed. He went through life the same way I did, and whatever shallow, angry words I used at him before were totally unjustified, and I knew it. He lived my life; he knew how it was to be me...once. He too had the same fears, which were realised, yet somehow I know he had more courage than I could ever had. It was not recently that I saw himself in me, and myself in him. I was him. I had his genes. My glories were once his, and my shortcomings obvious in his greying hair. And yet he lived my life before. To deny me of what his life was would amount to the denial of himself. He was courageous to admit it, and courageous enough to allow it.

We lived modestly, but he spent extravagantly, much to my mother's dismay, on us. He gave so much yet never asked for anything in return. Growing up, I have come to realize how much was the value of his sacrifices. I remember the promises he didn't back up, but I too realize the selfishness of the requests that perpetuated them in the first place. And still he trusted me. Days before the annoucement of the SPM results, he took me shoe-shopping. I loved loafers and saw a beautiful pair that was everything I wanted. I could afford it but he insisted on paying. It was a lot of money to me then, and I asked him why. He said "For your results." I told him I could flop every paper. He told me it was ok, and it was a reward for doing my best. I got 10As. It was all his.

And now I find myself thinking back of all the days I lost where I could have told him more. And I find myself promising him I'll make him proud.

I'll won't be the man he wished he was. I'll be the man he always is. Someday. I promise.

So This is The End

I was seated in a small coffeeshop in Karak, Pahang today when it hit me. Over the amazingly smooth patin and durian bombs, I realised that this would be one of those memories stuck in my head forever. There we were, Seng Hean and 1/4 of the Taiping Gang laughing and simply enjoying good friends and good food. All four girls were joking and squealing over Danny's newfound love (which was Gang Member No. 8 or something like that) and I was basically trying to ignore the looks other patrons we giving us because of the racket they made.

I loaded most of my stuff to the back of Seng Hean's Avanza,and Danny was there, getting his stuff out as well. Allan was helping me out a bit and I could tell he was kinda disappointed. A few nights ago he was complaining that he wouldn't be able to find roomies as "cool" as us. Flattered I was, but it was an overstatement. The new girl downstairs was moving her stuff in, and though I wanted to, I couldn't say I would miss the place. In fact, I couldn't stand the sight of one last glance. I couldn't explain it.

And there we were, us three guys, me watching as Danny had his Hokkien mee dinner. Talking about days gone by. Talking about 3 years in the making of the life I know. And there I was,wondering how different life would be when I return, wondering how much they'd change, wondering what paths life has prepared for us. I was thinking back to the first time I met them and how much things have changed. How much people have changed. And how the things we used to joke about have come true. And there it was. One of the last times I would meet Danny as my roomie for 3 years. No goodbyes, no farewells. Just that. Just the hope of what lay ahead. Maybe I was the only one reminiescing.

And here I am now, sitting in front of Seng Hean's PC, while all my stuff is in the maid's room. And here I am hoping that this next phase of life will be all rosy and predictable. Problem is, I know it won't be. And when I leave in 7 weeks, will it all take a turn for the worst? I'm trying to find a landmark of my life here, which would be my reference point before the concrete jungle sets in. That elusive landmark of photographs and dream-like memories which is now all that's left of my youth.

So this is the end.

Now I know how it looks like.

Gavin and Me

The day I met Gavin he came into the small glass room where i was with an ice-blended mocha with extra whipped cream. His tear-streaked face was already dry, painting two icy rivers down each cheek, ending at the corners of his small pouty mouth.

"Hi", he said in a strong Brit accent, while plonking down his cuppa, spilling cream on the bass amp.

"I'm Ezra, your new teacher", I said, extending a hand. He grabbed mine and pumped it up and down.

"Gavin. You're teacher number three."

"Well, yeah, the other teachers have left so I'll teach you instead. Do you mind?"

He grabbed the drumsticks. "Nope. Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yeah, sure."

"My brother, he fell down just now, and, and, he loves to cry, and, he went, Uuuh Uhhh Uhh..." Gavin then proceded to make loud wailing noises that I swore made everyone in the adjacent bowling alley stare. I suspected he was talking about himself from the tear-streaks on his wailing face. It was very convincing.

"Er, so Gavin, how many siblings do you have?"

"Huh?"

"Brothers and sisters. Do you have any brothers and sisters?"

"I've a brother. He's Aaron. And you want to know another secret?"

"Uh yeah, sure." I looked around to see whether his mom was nearby and staring angrily at me for making her son "cry".

"I had another brother. But he..." He hung his head and pouted.

"He...?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you. It's a secret. Only my dad, my mom and my family knows. I'm not supposed to tell you."

"Well, that's why they call secrets secrets. You don't have to tell if you..."

He looked up and chirpily said, "I'll tell you next week though."

I had no heart to tell Gavin that this would be our first and last class together.

The Multinational

I went to apply for the first ever passport I ever had in my life.

The first question the guy at the photo booth asked me was "Cina ke Melayu?"
"Er...Cina. Kenapa?"
"Cina jarang ada..." Then he made a stroking motion on his chin.
"Hahaha. Saya punya macam terrorist."

Yeah I do sport a sorry excuse for a goatee. That's because I'm Chinese and you should know that Chinese guys grow hair in the strangest of places. Like on the nipples and not on the chest. I mean I'm lucky enough to even have facial hair. At least it's not long and flowy and growing out of a huge mole on my cheek. And it must be the food here in Malaysia. You get stuff from all over. People have said I looked like everything from Chindian to Myanmese. Good grief. Still, with a name like mine it's easy to see why.