Plus One Minus One
Plus One Minus One
Due to some certain personal reasons of mine. I guess that eventually I would have to write this down. For some strange reason or other. It is the "exception" that I mentioned in my previous post. It feels a little bit tabloid-ish and a little bit attention-seeking. Then again, after so much time has passed. I guess it is only a weak attempt to justify and to think back upon the past with intent. And perhaps beyond this post. I will never again blog to honestly and frankly. Since really, the truth is that far too many people read this blog now. Even my brother reads it. So it is with much desolation that I continue...
And in reality. The word "I", is really one selfish letter. I cannot believe the number of times I have used that letter. Perhaps it is just an honest reflection of my more-self-centered character and personality. Which does not bode well for the future circumstances of life. Its easy to say that I struggle with pride, then again, perhaps it is also comforting to know that everyone else except a small handful also do so. Thoughts come and go. But feelings are forever. Emotions are often time fickle, even then, they make intensely strong impressions in the context of a strong imprint - bounded by the veiled walls of passion.
By now, everyone who read this blog since my december entry, will probably realised that my so-called "love-life" is really quite sad. Even my brother proudly proclaims to me on a regular basis, "Ha! People like you confirm cannot find girlfriend one..." To a certain extent and due to a host of factors, I will have to agree with the nonsense boy for once in my life. Then again. I have to acknowlegeable accept the chinese wisdom of thought via means of the rhyming proverb, "Nan Ren Bu Huai, Nu Ren Bu Ai". It is so true... Almost like setting the white point of a color balance before taking a picture and not struggling to set a grey point of a color balance after a picture has been taken.
The best quote, I have ever received in my whole life in JC. In two years. In the Most Nonsense College In The Country. Whilst Slacking In The Void Deck. With regards to girls, BGR, relationships and all its associations as well as complications really just goes like this:
"Men only need to make money. Women only need to look pretty"
He was a blur guy. Absolutely foolish in many aspects. He didn't even know how to take bus number 75 from his house a few stop down to a fabled place that his classmates so often mentioned and talked about in school. Most of the time in his growing up days, he had often just shunned girls. Preferring to keep a low profile in the this area. His thoughts were deranged most of the time, his speech was oftentimes weird and it rambld and halted in all sorts of directions. Most of the time, he lived his life in simplicity. A bare bones existence, content just with the passing pleasure of life that seemed to wither through his fingers the same way dry sand snuggles its way through the gaps in one's hands.
It was a last minute notice. A phone call. Beyond that, just a quick letter of parental consent. Signed at the last moment. Circumstances leading up to the whole thing were haphazard. In a dreamy state of oblivion that is no longer remembered. Strangely even as he struggled through his coursework in school. Still flush with his goal of heading straight to the polytechnic to complete a diploma in computer engineering as well as programming. Most of his life had been that of a miserly existence. The only reason why he started going to church a few years earlier was because a fellow classmate boasted that "there are many pretty girls in church to see and to meet". Life was simpler then. It involved less thought, more impulse, great rashness and a whole slew of silly factors.
As he sat in the bus and the people stocked up during rush hour. He realised that something was wrong. Bus 75 had gone way off its course and was now nicely sliding into an interchange! People started to disembark to take the rides on the recently launched LRT. Amazing, he thought. He was going to be so late. So late for something that would stretch a few days. He sighed as he queued up for bus 75 in the opposite direction. Stupid boy. Couldn't even take the bus and get off the right stop!
The cool breeze just swayed with a strangely chilly air. The air conditioned blasts from the bus on an opposite route did not help either. He sighed and wondered why he even bothered to do this "whole thing". And wondered if he could have spent his one week break in a better manner. Not camping out for half a week for some purpose he did not really understand.
The bus driver pointed to him which bus stop to alight. As well as the general direction in which to walk to his destination. He had heard of this fabled placed before and had only visited it a few time prior to the day itself. The morning was getting brighter. A cool shade of blue emerged from the brilliant sky above as he made his way, following his instincts and trying to just to figure out the path beyond.
"Excuse me, how to I get to MGS", he asked an elderly lady. Presumably a grandmother, walking a little girl nicely decked out in white and blue along the way. He had heard so much about the nonsense. The four clips and a buckle. His classmates often laughed and joked about it after PE lesson one day. He thought little and none of it. It was just a flashing thought. Like a beacon by the sea at night. And no more.
"Just follow the big girls ahead", was the old lady's reply.
"Ok, thank you..." and he trudged on. Realising that his destination stood right before him. A wonder of its time. An institution of learning. Decked out with history and widely respected in civil society. Wondering if the stripe on his shirt made any difference in a brand conscious and face-saving remnants of a confucianist influenced society. It is strange then that many things somehow went his way for a day or two. He no longer need to trail the former. Just proceed dead ahead. No security guard on duty.
Passing by pillars. He saw a memory of the past. And said a curt "no". Much in pride. And dumped his stuff on the concourse. And sighed. And wondered what to do. "Woah! You are just in time! We were wondering what happened to you already!". A friend smiled at him. "Come for the ice-breaker! Its at the basketball court", a voiced trailed off. He turned his head, and followed the rest. Tired. Shrugged his shoulders in confusion. "Not again...argh..."
He sat down. Exhaled deeply. Looked around at his friends and the guys from his school. Looked at the grey white sky above. And slowly turned his head to all that were now gathering into an ever-increasing size of a circle of people. Wondering what he had got himself into. He forced a smile. Faked a grin. Tried to upkeep a grimace. There was alot of things on his mind. And he was still wondering what he was doing here on an early morning. Sitting on a hard concrete floor in the middle of a girls' school. Its a strange feeling. Like alien ground indeed.
He looked ahead of him. And there she was! The most beautiful person he had ever set his eyes upon. His eyed widened in surprise. She just stood out amongst the rest. Absolute flawless beauty in so many more ways than one. He thought for a moment, that it was not a human. But an angel. She was extraordinarily beautiful. Everyone and everything else seemed to fade away in a split second. And it all came crashing back to planet earth. When the mind, filled with self-doubt and confusion set in an interjectory thought, "She has a boyfriend!". "Indeed! She defnitely has!"
"So what did you do after you broke up with him". He overhead someone else saying.
"Nothing lah, I just returned him all the stuff he bought for me and he returned to me all the stuff I gave to him"
"That's it? So Simple? Like that only...?". His eyes deflected for a moment. And everyone was settled down. Introductions began. He awaited... with bated breath for her turn.
She smiled to everyone after a few solemn words. Her words cutting through his heart like a hot knife through butter. "Adamantium through vanadium steel", and I ask thee? How do you talk to an angel? How doth ye speaketh thou to one whoms beauty is incomprehensible?
It was fast. Gathering his stuff. It was time to worship the Lord. Praise and Worship began. As with a word from the speaker. He settled into one corner. Pushing her out of his thoughts. Trying very hard. I repeat. Very hard to concentrate on the Word and to understand it. He scratched his head a few times. Looked down. Thought. And sighed once more. The time flew fast. And it was lunch. His thoughts about her never left his. Poked him throughout the day. Lunch. And then it was dinner. And it was much time spent on studying the Word. Prayer. As well as Praise and Worship. He had never really been a good Christian all his life. To him. His walk was more defined by the word "struggle". Than by the phrase "Walking In Victory". So touted by his many peers in Church and elsewhere.
By now, he had removed his white bata shoes. And by virtue of cheekiness and convienience. He dumped them into the lowest drawer of the teacher's table in the room. Sandals, he thought, was more apt and apprpriate. He was so tired, having struggled on less than 3 hours of sleep the night before in a freezing cold air-conditioned room. It was so cold, that he found himself wandering around the campus at 2.30a.m in the morning just to warm up. Another joined him at 3.30a.m in the morning. Shivering and bitterly complaining about the cold.
Something happened in the night. Many people were very unhappy. And a cold reception ensued to him and his friends the following morning. Worship was divided. Praise was dried up. Colder than the chilly winds that blew in from the plain. Fellowship was broken. Silence ensued. Childishness reigned. Red Hand. Or Red-Handed? So opposite the reception just barely 24 hours earlier. He mustered up his courage when no one was looking. When people were dispersing off for breakfast. To talk to her. In a stutter of words. He sounded like a chinese high guy swallowing them all. She smiled at him and exchanged a few words. Her voice was heavenly. Then put on her jacket and walked to have her breakfast. He was dumbstruck. Stupid little boy just lost a few more points in IQ. The milo tasted weird that breakfast. His hands trembled.
"Have you heard of this song before?", She asked as she flashed a sheet of transparency in his face, "It's called 'The Heart of Worship'..."
"Um... No.. never heard of it before..." was his tired answer, "How does it sound like?"
"Oh, you've not heard of it yet? Come, let me sing it to you!"
Without music. The two just stood there. In the middle of a crowded room. While she sung to the lyrics of Matt Redman's - The Heart of Worship. He looked at the lyrics on the transparency. The dark red carpeted floor not helping him in any way. Her voice was absolutely beautiful. Gentle and soothing on the ears. It stirred up feelings of peace from within. With so much raw emotion she sang. "Its all about you, Jesus". He was dumbstruck once again. He tried to sing with her. But he could not! He did not know what to say. Before long. The same transparency was taken out of his hands by her. Placed on the projector for all the see. The music filled the air and so did someone else lead with accompanment to music.
He never forgot this moment.
It is not everyday that you find 25 girls squeezing inside the boy's toilet in a girl's school. Then again, when clues are hidden in a rolled up piece of toilet paper. There is desperation. He wandered around the school aimlessly. Disterested in many of the more physically-taxing activities. Prefering to dwell his thoughts on what had been covered in the sharing sessions earlier. It was not easy. At the same time, at least he tried what he could. He sat in a classroom by the stairs that go up a few storeys from the canteen. Legs on the chair seat whilst seated and thinking on the table. She walked up and sat opposite him. And they talked. He talked like he had never spoken before in his entire life. Oblivious to the ever increasing and fleeting activity of a treasure hunt that started to swathe the room with more eyes and hands and feet. She smiled at him and shared her own thoughts and words.
Dinner came and went. Finger lickin' good. And then it was more time to the Lord. Opening up one's heart. And realising the enormity of one's flaws. And realising how merciful and good there is a faithful God that really loves and cares for all of mankind. He wanted to be a person person in Christ. And people were kind enough to pray for him even as all his flaws stuck out like a sore thumb. It takes a great deal of humility to humble one's heart. And it is a very difficult thing to do indeed. The service ended late. But not before he had cooked up a plan to get her contact details in the "much larger scale of things". The silly boy somehow had his IQ temporarily increased for a while.
He was informed of some devastating news later on. It broke his heart. And made him feel sad and depressed once more. Don't build your house near a volcano. Great land at a great cost. He sighed and pretended that everything was normal. A Life unto artificiality itself. A final worship session the following day ensued. As with a few pictures. He was tired and went home a regretful person. Mired with happiness and sadness at the same time. He was utterly confused.
"So what do you like?" He asked her a few days later.
"Ah this..." And she picked out a coat from the rack.
He studied the theory of cloth in front of him. Fashion made no sense to him. Only the price tag did. He looked for the elusive label for a while and when it read "89.90". His heart sank. "90 bucks? I don't even get more than 20 dollars a week!" He shouted in his mind. And felt helpless. She smiled at him even as he hung the coat back on the rack. Her friends very very nice save one. Best friends and security come to mind many years later on even as he thinks about this. She was beautiful. Outside. Incredible. Inside. Unbelievable. And he sighed once more. He looked at his handphone. Then a nokia 6110. And looked at the coat she so desired. And looked at his handphone...
"Help me pass this to her..." He said as he handed a piece of foolscap paper over to a trusted envoy. Only known as the "postman". He was the go-between him and her as far as written letters were concerned. A more personal touched added by his wise classmates. During chinese lessons with the Funky Chinaman, they had taught him several important and valuable tips. Like how to fold a piece of paper that it compacts down to a self-contained letter. The postman was a highly trusted envoy who most often could make the "delivery". Even if the circumstances were very difficult. He had never failed even once in his "mission". She knew about the postman too and made it a point to look out for the postman in school on particular days.
"I almost could not pass it to her yesterday, but one minute some girls came it to take chairs out of the room. And she was one of them, so I passed to over to her as quickly as possible." Was the report on the nearest time of unsuccessful delivery of the Postman. He called her everyday. And they shared their thoughts together for hours on the phone. Yet he always understood the circumstances as well as the restrictions that he would always have to live with. And shrugged it off.
It was only months later that he realised that he had left one pair of his shoes in a teacher's table drawer in a certain particular room with red carpeting in MGS. He sought the postman's help to retrieve them. The postmen found the shoes, nicely displayed with a piece of paper stuck to it. "Whose shoes are these?". He doubted that there are many girls MGS who wear size 10 bata shoes.". The postman related this story laughingly to him. Indeed. He knew he had forgotten something when he left the camp on the last day. But could not put his finger on just what it was.
"Woah, she's damn pretty man. And very nice too", said the postman once. "She bought me a drink for all my hard work..." He had many more pleasant meetings with her face to face. The only thing he regrets is never being able to take her to the ice-cream shop. The only reason why he bothered to aim for JC and not poly was because of her. It looked ideal that both of them would be able to enter the same co-ed institution a little while later in their lives. It looked ideal. It would be very difficult to realise the the goal of even entering a JC. His grades were miserable. Slipping to be so bad in his mid term exams. He had a series of rough patches in school even as on the surface everything seemed pretty normal. His 2nd language - a mandatory requirement for admissions was severely lacking. He was thoroughly discouraged.
"You can do it... Remember, you can do all things through Christ who strengthens you?" She was very very nice all the time. And even when he sat for his last chinese syllabus B examination paper in JC1. He used the entry proof to write her a letter. This time round, the it was a postwoman. Another highly-trusted envoy. No problems with delivery - because she was having her Chinese O-level examinations a few hours after his. A few hours later as she sat through her exams and did very well in them, he was whisked away to Sentosa by Aunty Ros. For the ACJC Christian Fellowship Camp...
Acknowledgeably. We all know what the ending is. That she changed her choice from AC. To RJ. And then finally, to overseas. Where she is doing very well now. I've written all that I've need to write. I felt that I had to put this up a few months ago. So this is what I can write from my treasured memories. It is by no means any "love story" or anything. It is just a collection of memories where my feelings were strongest then and there. Then again, to be honest. Everytime I see the lyrics to the song, "The Heart of Worship". I am reminded of her. Because she is the one who first taught me how to sing the song. Something that I will never forget.
And the first time I set my eyes on her was on March the 13th. The first day of the one week school break when I was a secondary four kid. Easily by means of a mathematical memorisation process. I just mentally consider it as "Valentine's Day plus one month, minus one day". And I will never forget - the day where I met the girl of my dreams...
Due to some certain personal reasons of mine. I guess that eventually I would have to write this down. For some strange reason or other. It is the "exception" that I mentioned in my previous post. It feels a little bit tabloid-ish and a little bit attention-seeking. Then again, after so much time has passed. I guess it is only a weak attempt to justify and to think back upon the past with intent. And perhaps beyond this post. I will never again blog to honestly and frankly. Since really, the truth is that far too many people read this blog now. Even my brother reads it. So it is with much desolation that I continue...
And in reality. The word "I", is really one selfish letter. I cannot believe the number of times I have used that letter. Perhaps it is just an honest reflection of my more-self-centered character and personality. Which does not bode well for the future circumstances of life. Its easy to say that I struggle with pride, then again, perhaps it is also comforting to know that everyone else except a small handful also do so. Thoughts come and go. But feelings are forever. Emotions are often time fickle, even then, they make intensely strong impressions in the context of a strong imprint - bounded by the veiled walls of passion.
By now, everyone who read this blog since my december entry, will probably realised that my so-called "love-life" is really quite sad. Even my brother proudly proclaims to me on a regular basis, "Ha! People like you confirm cannot find girlfriend one..." To a certain extent and due to a host of factors, I will have to agree with the nonsense boy for once in my life. Then again. I have to acknowlegeable accept the chinese wisdom of thought via means of the rhyming proverb, "Nan Ren Bu Huai, Nu Ren Bu Ai". It is so true... Almost like setting the white point of a color balance before taking a picture and not struggling to set a grey point of a color balance after a picture has been taken.
The best quote, I have ever received in my whole life in JC. In two years. In the Most Nonsense College In The Country. Whilst Slacking In The Void Deck. With regards to girls, BGR, relationships and all its associations as well as complications really just goes like this:
He was a blur guy. Absolutely foolish in many aspects. He didn't even know how to take bus number 75 from his house a few stop down to a fabled place that his classmates so often mentioned and talked about in school. Most of the time in his growing up days, he had often just shunned girls. Preferring to keep a low profile in the this area. His thoughts were deranged most of the time, his speech was oftentimes weird and it rambld and halted in all sorts of directions. Most of the time, he lived his life in simplicity. A bare bones existence, content just with the passing pleasure of life that seemed to wither through his fingers the same way dry sand snuggles its way through the gaps in one's hands.
It was a last minute notice. A phone call. Beyond that, just a quick letter of parental consent. Signed at the last moment. Circumstances leading up to the whole thing were haphazard. In a dreamy state of oblivion that is no longer remembered. Strangely even as he struggled through his coursework in school. Still flush with his goal of heading straight to the polytechnic to complete a diploma in computer engineering as well as programming. Most of his life had been that of a miserly existence. The only reason why he started going to church a few years earlier was because a fellow classmate boasted that "there are many pretty girls in church to see and to meet". Life was simpler then. It involved less thought, more impulse, great rashness and a whole slew of silly factors.
As he sat in the bus and the people stocked up during rush hour. He realised that something was wrong. Bus 75 had gone way off its course and was now nicely sliding into an interchange! People started to disembark to take the rides on the recently launched LRT. Amazing, he thought. He was going to be so late. So late for something that would stretch a few days. He sighed as he queued up for bus 75 in the opposite direction. Stupid boy. Couldn't even take the bus and get off the right stop!
The cool breeze just swayed with a strangely chilly air. The air conditioned blasts from the bus on an opposite route did not help either. He sighed and wondered why he even bothered to do this "whole thing". And wondered if he could have spent his one week break in a better manner. Not camping out for half a week for some purpose he did not really understand.
The bus driver pointed to him which bus stop to alight. As well as the general direction in which to walk to his destination. He had heard of this fabled placed before and had only visited it a few time prior to the day itself. The morning was getting brighter. A cool shade of blue emerged from the brilliant sky above as he made his way, following his instincts and trying to just to figure out the path beyond.
"Excuse me, how to I get to MGS", he asked an elderly lady. Presumably a grandmother, walking a little girl nicely decked out in white and blue along the way. He had heard so much about the nonsense. The four clips and a buckle. His classmates often laughed and joked about it after PE lesson one day. He thought little and none of it. It was just a flashing thought. Like a beacon by the sea at night. And no more.
"Just follow the big girls ahead", was the old lady's reply.
"Ok, thank you..." and he trudged on. Realising that his destination stood right before him. A wonder of its time. An institution of learning. Decked out with history and widely respected in civil society. Wondering if the stripe on his shirt made any difference in a brand conscious and face-saving remnants of a confucianist influenced society. It is strange then that many things somehow went his way for a day or two. He no longer need to trail the former. Just proceed dead ahead. No security guard on duty.
Passing by pillars. He saw a memory of the past. And said a curt "no". Much in pride. And dumped his stuff on the concourse. And sighed. And wondered what to do. "Woah! You are just in time! We were wondering what happened to you already!". A friend smiled at him. "Come for the ice-breaker! Its at the basketball court", a voiced trailed off. He turned his head, and followed the rest. Tired. Shrugged his shoulders in confusion. "Not again...argh..."
He sat down. Exhaled deeply. Looked around at his friends and the guys from his school. Looked at the grey white sky above. And slowly turned his head to all that were now gathering into an ever-increasing size of a circle of people. Wondering what he had got himself into. He forced a smile. Faked a grin. Tried to upkeep a grimace. There was alot of things on his mind. And he was still wondering what he was doing here on an early morning. Sitting on a hard concrete floor in the middle of a girls' school. Its a strange feeling. Like alien ground indeed.
He looked ahead of him. And there she was! The most beautiful person he had ever set his eyes upon. His eyed widened in surprise. She just stood out amongst the rest. Absolute flawless beauty in so many more ways than one. He thought for a moment, that it was not a human. But an angel. She was extraordinarily beautiful. Everyone and everything else seemed to fade away in a split second. And it all came crashing back to planet earth. When the mind, filled with self-doubt and confusion set in an interjectory thought, "She has a boyfriend!". "Indeed! She defnitely has!"
"So what did you do after you broke up with him". He overhead someone else saying.
"Nothing lah, I just returned him all the stuff he bought for me and he returned to me all the stuff I gave to him"
"That's it? So Simple? Like that only...?". His eyes deflected for a moment. And everyone was settled down. Introductions began. He awaited... with bated breath for her turn.
She smiled to everyone after a few solemn words. Her words cutting through his heart like a hot knife through butter. "Adamantium through vanadium steel", and I ask thee? How do you talk to an angel? How doth ye speaketh thou to one whoms beauty is incomprehensible?
It was fast. Gathering his stuff. It was time to worship the Lord. Praise and Worship began. As with a word from the speaker. He settled into one corner. Pushing her out of his thoughts. Trying very hard. I repeat. Very hard to concentrate on the Word and to understand it. He scratched his head a few times. Looked down. Thought. And sighed once more. The time flew fast. And it was lunch. His thoughts about her never left his. Poked him throughout the day. Lunch. And then it was dinner. And it was much time spent on studying the Word. Prayer. As well as Praise and Worship. He had never really been a good Christian all his life. To him. His walk was more defined by the word "struggle". Than by the phrase "Walking In Victory". So touted by his many peers in Church and elsewhere.
By now, he had removed his white bata shoes. And by virtue of cheekiness and convienience. He dumped them into the lowest drawer of the teacher's table in the room. Sandals, he thought, was more apt and apprpriate. He was so tired, having struggled on less than 3 hours of sleep the night before in a freezing cold air-conditioned room. It was so cold, that he found himself wandering around the campus at 2.30a.m in the morning just to warm up. Another joined him at 3.30a.m in the morning. Shivering and bitterly complaining about the cold.
Something happened in the night. Many people were very unhappy. And a cold reception ensued to him and his friends the following morning. Worship was divided. Praise was dried up. Colder than the chilly winds that blew in from the plain. Fellowship was broken. Silence ensued. Childishness reigned. Red Hand. Or Red-Handed? So opposite the reception just barely 24 hours earlier. He mustered up his courage when no one was looking. When people were dispersing off for breakfast. To talk to her. In a stutter of words. He sounded like a chinese high guy swallowing them all. She smiled at him and exchanged a few words. Her voice was heavenly. Then put on her jacket and walked to have her breakfast. He was dumbstruck. Stupid little boy just lost a few more points in IQ. The milo tasted weird that breakfast. His hands trembled.
"Have you heard of this song before?", She asked as she flashed a sheet of transparency in his face, "It's called 'The Heart of Worship'..."
"Um... No.. never heard of it before..." was his tired answer, "How does it sound like?"
"Oh, you've not heard of it yet? Come, let me sing it to you!"
Without music. The two just stood there. In the middle of a crowded room. While she sung to the lyrics of Matt Redman's - The Heart of Worship. He looked at the lyrics on the transparency. The dark red carpeted floor not helping him in any way. Her voice was absolutely beautiful. Gentle and soothing on the ears. It stirred up feelings of peace from within. With so much raw emotion she sang. "Its all about you, Jesus". He was dumbstruck once again. He tried to sing with her. But he could not! He did not know what to say. Before long. The same transparency was taken out of his hands by her. Placed on the projector for all the see. The music filled the air and so did someone else lead with accompanment to music.
He never forgot this moment.
It is not everyday that you find 25 girls squeezing inside the boy's toilet in a girl's school. Then again, when clues are hidden in a rolled up piece of toilet paper. There is desperation. He wandered around the school aimlessly. Disterested in many of the more physically-taxing activities. Prefering to dwell his thoughts on what had been covered in the sharing sessions earlier. It was not easy. At the same time, at least he tried what he could. He sat in a classroom by the stairs that go up a few storeys from the canteen. Legs on the chair seat whilst seated and thinking on the table. She walked up and sat opposite him. And they talked. He talked like he had never spoken before in his entire life. Oblivious to the ever increasing and fleeting activity of a treasure hunt that started to swathe the room with more eyes and hands and feet. She smiled at him and shared her own thoughts and words.
Dinner came and went. Finger lickin' good. And then it was more time to the Lord. Opening up one's heart. And realising the enormity of one's flaws. And realising how merciful and good there is a faithful God that really loves and cares for all of mankind. He wanted to be a person person in Christ. And people were kind enough to pray for him even as all his flaws stuck out like a sore thumb. It takes a great deal of humility to humble one's heart. And it is a very difficult thing to do indeed. The service ended late. But not before he had cooked up a plan to get her contact details in the "much larger scale of things". The silly boy somehow had his IQ temporarily increased for a while.
He was informed of some devastating news later on. It broke his heart. And made him feel sad and depressed once more. Don't build your house near a volcano. Great land at a great cost. He sighed and pretended that everything was normal. A Life unto artificiality itself. A final worship session the following day ensued. As with a few pictures. He was tired and went home a regretful person. Mired with happiness and sadness at the same time. He was utterly confused.
"So what do you like?" He asked her a few days later.
"Ah this..." And she picked out a coat from the rack.
He studied the theory of cloth in front of him. Fashion made no sense to him. Only the price tag did. He looked for the elusive label for a while and when it read "89.90". His heart sank. "90 bucks? I don't even get more than 20 dollars a week!" He shouted in his mind. And felt helpless. She smiled at him even as he hung the coat back on the rack. Her friends very very nice save one. Best friends and security come to mind many years later on even as he thinks about this. She was beautiful. Outside. Incredible. Inside. Unbelievable. And he sighed once more. He looked at his handphone. Then a nokia 6110. And looked at the coat she so desired. And looked at his handphone...
"Help me pass this to her..." He said as he handed a piece of foolscap paper over to a trusted envoy. Only known as the "postman". He was the go-between him and her as far as written letters were concerned. A more personal touched added by his wise classmates. During chinese lessons with the Funky Chinaman, they had taught him several important and valuable tips. Like how to fold a piece of paper that it compacts down to a self-contained letter. The postman was a highly trusted envoy who most often could make the "delivery". Even if the circumstances were very difficult. He had never failed even once in his "mission". She knew about the postman too and made it a point to look out for the postman in school on particular days.
"I almost could not pass it to her yesterday, but one minute some girls came it to take chairs out of the room. And she was one of them, so I passed to over to her as quickly as possible." Was the report on the nearest time of unsuccessful delivery of the Postman. He called her everyday. And they shared their thoughts together for hours on the phone. Yet he always understood the circumstances as well as the restrictions that he would always have to live with. And shrugged it off.
It was only months later that he realised that he had left one pair of his shoes in a teacher's table drawer in a certain particular room with red carpeting in MGS. He sought the postman's help to retrieve them. The postmen found the shoes, nicely displayed with a piece of paper stuck to it. "Whose shoes are these?". He doubted that there are many girls MGS who wear size 10 bata shoes.". The postman related this story laughingly to him. Indeed. He knew he had forgotten something when he left the camp on the last day. But could not put his finger on just what it was.
"Woah, she's damn pretty man. And very nice too", said the postman once. "She bought me a drink for all my hard work..." He had many more pleasant meetings with her face to face. The only thing he regrets is never being able to take her to the ice-cream shop. The only reason why he bothered to aim for JC and not poly was because of her. It looked ideal that both of them would be able to enter the same co-ed institution a little while later in their lives. It looked ideal. It would be very difficult to realise the the goal of even entering a JC. His grades were miserable. Slipping to be so bad in his mid term exams. He had a series of rough patches in school even as on the surface everything seemed pretty normal. His 2nd language - a mandatory requirement for admissions was severely lacking. He was thoroughly discouraged.
"You can do it... Remember, you can do all things through Christ who strengthens you?" She was very very nice all the time. And even when he sat for his last chinese syllabus B examination paper in JC1. He used the entry proof to write her a letter. This time round, the it was a postwoman. Another highly-trusted envoy. No problems with delivery - because she was having her Chinese O-level examinations a few hours after his. A few hours later as she sat through her exams and did very well in them, he was whisked away to Sentosa by Aunty Ros. For the ACJC Christian Fellowship Camp...
Acknowledgeably. We all know what the ending is. That she changed her choice from AC. To RJ. And then finally, to overseas. Where she is doing very well now. I've written all that I've need to write. I felt that I had to put this up a few months ago. So this is what I can write from my treasured memories. It is by no means any "love story" or anything. It is just a collection of memories where my feelings were strongest then and there. Then again, to be honest. Everytime I see the lyrics to the song, "The Heart of Worship". I am reminded of her. Because she is the one who first taught me how to sing the song. Something that I will never forget.
And the first time I set my eyes on her was on March the 13th. The first day of the one week school break when I was a secondary four kid. Easily by means of a mathematical memorisation process. I just mentally consider it as "Valentine's Day plus one month, minus one day". And I will never forget - the day where I met the girl of my dreams...
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