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