It's Not Tragic

Racing never fails to baffle me. At first it was the thrill that entices me. But it got mundane. Then the element of danger made it all the more arousing. But I became my own master. It remains unexplainable. It became my religion. For that one moment of bliss, nothing comes close. Not drugs. Not even sex.

When I announced to my household the acquisition of my latest motorbike, a tempest brewed within my mother. Her attempts to talk me out of it were futile. "Don't go too fast", was her consolating advice. Surprisingly, I felt bad this time round. Maybe I was getting out of hand. Was I courting danger?

I took a ride to Fidelio St that night to seek solace. The steep downslope rekindles the fondest memories of delinquent primary school days. It was here that I first took my BMX for a free-falling experience. It didn't matter back then how tired it was to walk back up Fidelio St. When you feel the wind howling at you, it just takes the pain away.

The distant clap of thunder roused me from my flashbacks. My cigarette had died out a long time ago, judging from the cylindrical remains of ash still stuck to the filter. I had to reach home before it rains.

"F**k!", I cursed. Red light once again. Until what seems like ages, a blue bike pulled up beside me. I could tell he was a Mat. The white-framed specs was an instant give away. He revved up his throttle...thrice!. "Mau race kepa!?", I retorted admist the idling sounds of the bikes. The Mat seemed taken aback. He probably expected me to rev my throttle in reply. I was bold. He made a howling mistake.

"We go down Upper Changi, turn right at National Panasonic. Then all the way till Temasek J.C. Turn right, then right again into East Coast Rd. Then right again into Siglap Rd all the way until the traffic light with the red light camera. ", I laid out the route. He nodded.

Lights turned green. Phantom Of The Opera by Iron Maiden is playing in my head. It's THE anthem for racing. It just subdues me into another world. This Mat is not bad. Though I'm still winning, he isn't far behind. As I turned into Siglap Rd and negotiated the first few bends, all that was left of my favourite Mat is a minute speck on my side view mirrors.

I glanced back to locate my adversary. No where in sight. Then out of nowhere a dazzling light stared at me. Blinded, I lost control and skidded. I could feel my skin tear as I scraped through the asphalt. After what seems like a million miles, I came to a stop. I was trembling. I was drained of my strength. I tilt my head back. It is all too familiar. There just up ahead lies Fidelio St. I smiled wryly.... for I believe that It's Not Tragic To Die Doing What We Love.

"Mau race kepa!?"- meaning "You wanna race!?" in Bahasa Melayu

Not Beautiful Anymore

The boisterous jeers from the boys had no effect on me. It has been well over 6 weeks since I last got intimate with someone. Alas, that someone has become a no one now and my ravenous craving knows no boundaries. Decisions.

I ploughed through the glamorous streets of the red light district. Beguiling whores lined up the dark alleys. Sorry souls negotiating prices. Angels with a dirty face. Small time pimps were beckoning out to me. Its not usual to see a fine-looking boy walking the glamorous streets of Geylang. For once, everyone wants a piece of me.

I was about to commit a momentous vice. I pranced around this particular bunch of sluts. Then I saw her. Under a tree, she had a forlorn look about her. She wasn't keen on working it seems. That would do just perfect. She made her red dress look ravishing. I booked her for the night.

I was trembling the moment the doors closed behind us. The silence was as uncomfortable as awaiting a court room judgement. She began to unzip her dress. This was the defining moment. I lost. I reached out to her and zipped her dress up again. I couldn't proceed.

I took her to the Esplanade for dinner and ice-cream. She beamed like an innocent child. We had a moonlight walk. I learnt many things about her that night. I made a melancholic girl smile.

For most part of the evening, we forgot where we came from. Fireworks greeted the skies for the post national day celebrations at Marina South. We looked up in awe. This time though, the silence between us was as comfortable as a mother's hug. I held her hands. She gripped it firmly.

Alas, it was time to go. As we neared the very street Ii first set eyes upon her, I held her hand again. "Has anyone told you that you are beautiful?", I said softly. She shook her head. She took my hand to her cheek. Tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm not beautiful anymore", came her sorrowful reply as she turned and began her perilous walk back to where she came from.

We're Thicker Than Blood

When you run into danger, I may be the last to pull you out.
In times of need, I may be the last to hear your shouts.
If ever the waiting turns to doubt,
do remember that an hour glass waits for the very last sand.
Just like we'll be brothers till the end.

-The Royal Assassin
(For My Blood Brothers. You Know Who You Are)

Aishiteru

Love is when we kiss, the world stops.
Love is when I hear your voice through the photographs.
Love is when I miss you while you're sleeping on my shoulders.
Love is when you smile at me, I lose my senses
Love is when you hate me, I think of you to sleep.

- The Royal Assassin

Blue Eyed Girl

Qabil knew something was special the moment he woke up. It was a perfect crimson sunrise that gave colour to the previous night. Today he will be making his way to Dubai for his month long student exchange program.

Flights were always monotonous. The skies are clear. There was every shade of blue possible as Qabil was mesmerized by the view from his window seat.

The glamorous streets of Dubai greeted him like a conquering prince as the warmth of arabic hospitality cancelled any thoughts of getting homesick. The family he was staying with was somewhat similar to his. Working class, strong knit, modern yet conforming to religous beliefs. Feroz works in the carpet business. Shizah, who is a housewife is a brilliant cook, Najeeb is a weird 24yr old art student, and Helena is the blue-eyed 20yr old daughter.

Over the month long period, Qabil grew close with both Najeeb and Helena, often sharing with them ideas on fashion, entertainment and the Singaporean culture. They also helped in his schoolwork which eventually resulted in excellent grades for Qabil's exchange program. Secretly though, Qabil has eyes for Helena. It wasn't only the dark flowing raven hair and her model like features. It was her witty sense of humour, the calmness and the unique personality that she exudes. Above all, Helena was basically 'wife material'.

Helena too felt the same way for Qabil. Responsible, the uncanny ability to make her blush and laugh. He has a strong character that could sweep any girl. But Qabil is just not the sort of guy to take advantage. And that was enough for Helena to fall madly in love with him.

Though so much love in the air, no one knew of each other's feelings. It was etched deep inside their souls for they knew that it was near impossible. One month was coming to an end. Time ticks fastest when one is having fun.

Helena gave an excuse for not coming down to see Qabil off and that saddened him. He didn't know though that she was in the corner of her room, peering through the curtains, looking at him going into the car.

Qabil was disturbed by many thoughts on his flight back. He could write to her but it just wasnt the same. He could visit her but that would be too costly. He eventually settled on forgetting about Helena totally.

Qabil gazed out of his window seat. It was the same crimson sunrise that he experienced before. Every shade of blue was present in the sky less for one.... it is the blue in Helena's eyes. Though it was short, it was sweet. Her eyes belong to someone else.

Butterflies

Happiness is like a Butterfly.
You could try to catch it all day and fail.
But if you were to just sit down patiently, it may just alight unto you.

-Anonnymous

The Bird Of Youth Will Fly And Never Return
-The Royal Assassin