What If

Every bit excited about being soon to be parents for the first time, Edward could not hesitate himself from harping on and on about stuff he can do together with the kids. From showering them with expensive toys to frequent holidays and fishing trips, irritating the hell out of Mummy, and the list goes on and on. Subconsciously however, Edward did not realise that every thought of his was under the assumption that the child growing inside of his dear wife was going to be a Boy.

Amanda was the more level headed one. She just prayed for good health irregardless of its sex. Being a fashionista herself, she however allowed her thoughts to stray toward dressing up the child, shopping trips, and making sure they look prettier than all her friends' kids. It was all thoughts drenched in the colour pink! Amanda secretly wanted a Girl.

"What if it's a girl Edward?", Amanda screeched Edward's thoughts to a halt. "Oh! What if it's a girl!? I've never thought about that!", Edward exclaimed with a sneer on his face. "Well if it's a girl, she will look as pretty as her mum. She will have a new dress everyday. She shall sit with me on my lap while I drive...well you know so that she can be a good lady driver! She will definitely not go out with boys until she is 21!", Edward answered in a flash.

"What if it's a boy Amanda?", Edward tried to test Amanda cheekily. "Well he shall be trained not be like his Dad for sure!", Amanda joked. "He shall not leave his toys lying all over the place, he shall not not be rude to other kids, he shall learn martial arts so that he can take care of his baby sister should he have one, he shall not touch my expensive Ming vases, and he shall not have crayons!!", Amanda exclaimed while visualising her son drawing on everywhere BUT a piece of paper.

"But he's a boy. Boys do all those stuff. They like to play in the mud, piss the hell out of parents, they like to beat and bully other kids. You know....guy stuff", Edward attempted to defend his cause. "Darling, what if he were to draw on your expensive Laura Ashley wallpapers?", Edward quizzed his wife.

"God No. Please I don't even want to think about it,"Amanda uttered in between laughs. "How could he? They cost a bomb and we went to London just to get those you know", Amanda reminded Edward on the perils of scouring and getting those wallpapers.

"Ya I know. But what if?", Edward really wanted to know. Well, I guess we can always create a frame around his Picasso drawings on the wall and we can call it Art!", Amanda conceded as the couple walked hand in hand into the Doctor's room.

They don't know it yet...but it's going to be Twins. Boy twins.

Spellbound

The nestle of tepid summer waves
Upon their naked feet,
Humble pilgrims side by side,
Beneath a sullen moon.

Moments like this, do fervent fools cherish,
When one's away at sea.
Missing me, while I'm missing you
Still the same moon that we see.

And that was the last poem Aidah received during the infant stages of her relationship with Alfian. Like the ones that came before that, Aidah littered it inside her precious shoe box, only just scathing the true meaning between those lines.

A simple 'kampung' girl, warned many a times by her mother, to not fall in love with such an industrious man, yet love knows no boundaries it seems. With a leaded heart, Aidah attempted to brave coming tears, as she waved farewell to Alfian as he backed further into the transit area.

It was a long time coming. A cadet pilot on his maiden flight. Destination Zurich. His life was set and match and this was just the beginning.

There are many things left behind which Aidah can remember Alfian by, yet she wasn't satisfied. Aidah kept playing the voicemail over and over that night as she perched upon her window sill, grazing at the splendor of the full moon. It illuminated the night sky with a haunting glow, drifting her further into a sullen mess.

The sudden ring alarmed her so much so that she stumbled off the ledge. "Hi dear. Its me. I've just touched down. Everything went well. Zurich is so beautiful. Its a clear night too. I wish you were here Aidah", Alfian confessed, sensing the sadness in Aidah's voice. "Listen, can you look out of the window please?", Alfian requested. "Can you see the full moon? Well....I'm looking at the same moon my love".

Almost Forgotten

Perched on the foot of the steps of an ancient temple, lies a huge stone. Engraved onto it was a poem about being Lost. However there was one word deliberately scraped off the rock surface. It was the word 'Lost'. The poet believed that Lost could never be read.

It could only be felt.

25 Minutes

Isn't it baffling, the fact how we humans always seem to associate people with objects from the prosaic side of life? Especially those that has left a significant impact on oneself, bitter or sweet.

I have come across those that fondly remember special places, where monumental moments was spent with their loved ones. So much so, that whenever he/she passes by that place, unknowingly, their mind allows itself to relive those moments. Often to the extent where they can almost see themselves mimicking those frolicking actions of lost times...wishing, that their other half was there.

Then there are those that remember people by their favourite food, colour of clothes, and even the reeking scent of their favourite perfume. It wasn't too long ago that a good friend of mine reminisced to me how he knew his then girlfriend was close by solely by the whiff of one Gucci Rush. Now that they are no longer an item, he still frets about like an eager sparrow when he catches that Gucci Rush smell in the air, hoping to see his ex girlfriend pop out from the crowd.

I prefer to remember people through songs. I find it utterly amusing how the same lyrics could mean different things to different people. There's this particular number from Michael Learns to Rock titled 25 Minutes where the lyrics conveyed a man's lost cause to salvage the love of his life. For me, that song has an unconventional meaning attached.

You see back in my schooling days, though not important, Music was one of the examinable subjects in our course of study. For one of the tests, us students had to memorise a popular song at that time and sing it to the class. Anyone caught referring to written down lyrics would fail the subject instantaneously. The song was '25 Minutes'.

Without the luxury of the Internet, it was always tedious trying to memorise that song. I for one got sick of listening to it after the fourth time, whilst trying to pen down its lyrics word for word. Thinking that I could procrastinate this somewhat unimportant task, I did everything but trying to get that song drilled into my head.

The days passed and the Music test was just one weekend away. In a desperate attempt to save myself, I approached one of the girls from my class, Isabella to pen down the lyrics onto my notebook. Expecting her to rebuff my request, astonishingly she obliged ever so willingly. She wrote it all down within a mere 5 minutes, in the neatest handwriting I've ever seen and I was ready to take this test.

The months passed and before long, we were already busy preparing for our final exams. Thankfully, Music was not one of the subjects tested. It was during that time when the school vice-principal walked into our classroom one morning with downcast eyes.

Isabella had met with a serious accident the day before. It was a hit and run affair that left poor Isabella in a coma. Doctors predicted that even if she was ever going to come out of that coma, she'd be paralysed.

Isabella eventually passed on after battling with her life for a few days. The students, especially those from our class took the news badly. Life had to go on however and before long, Isabella remains just but a name printed on one of the pages in our precious yearbook.

It didn't occur to me all these years but when the song '25 Minutes' was played over the radio recently, I instantly pictured Isabella writing down those lyrics in my exercise book. And forever, I shall always associate this beautiful song with an equally beautiful soul that once helped a lazy boy.

I, the writer achieved an A grade for my Music test in 1996. I have always been a music lover and will always be one.

In My World

Danny was supremely distracted that day. The pictures that the private investigator produced the night before startled him to bits, even though he was fully prepared for this shocking revelation.

Danny fell asleep the night before, still clutching those damned photographs. What seemed a perfect love after all did not evolved the way it was always supposed to be. The last thing on his mind was the thousands already spent on his wedding ceremony.

Family and friends, eagerly anticipating Danny's big day lingered languidly within his head. How was he suppose to break the news? Danny mused to himself, oblivious to the ongoings of the world around him.

Trevor, noticing the sudden demise of Danny's usually bubbly and cheery disposition forced him to take the day off. Danny nodded without looking at his boss, without batting an eyelid. Just a cold sordid stare into emptiness.

Danny trudged along the walkway and out into the monsoon rain. He paced swiftly, taking long aimless strides, drenched to the bone with heavy thoughts. Danny had exactly an inkling where he was going, and he just knew he had to keep on walking. It made him feel alive, for whatever soul that was still left in him.

Norma's house was just around the corner. Danny rubbed his hands together and took a deep breath. He buried his hands into his front cardigan pocket as he quickened his steps and turned into the slip road.

Norma's pristine white Beetle was parked by the stairway of her brownstone house. Danny reminisced the heated embrace that took place at the back seat of that very same car. Obviously, he wasn't the only one that ruled the back seat all this while.

Danny trotted up the stairs and ringed the bell. His right hand gripped firmly onto the handle of his Smith & Wesson. He pulled back the lever with his thumb and slowly placed his forefinger onto the trigger guard.

"Danny! Oh my god...you're drenched! Whatever were you thinking my love? It must be what zero degrees out here? Come in...let me make you feel comfortable", Norma pulled her fiance in without a trace of guilty conscience.

"Let me make you feel comfortable?", Danny gritted his teeth while Norma's last words replayed in his head. "Let me take you on a trip", Danny heaved silently. "Let me take you into my world of hurt feelings", Danny heaved psychotically.

Remember Me?

I remembered being one of the first in my class to get caned for misbehaviour. Thinking hard about it, I still believe that whatever I did tipped toward the mischief end of the scales.

The long walk toward the H.O.D office was supposed to make me feel remorseful and apologetic but engulfed in teenage angst and its ever quest for boyhood rebellion, I marched with my head held high.

"This is the boy, he did this to me", wailed an almost theatric Mrs Goh. "Where is Richard? I want this boy to get a good hard spanking!", she demanded for the strongest fittest teacher that just joined the school.

Richard emerged, muscles begging to tear out from his ripping tight Polo Tee, cane in one hand. He whipped me not once, not twice, but thrice. Pleased, Mrs Goh would have clapped her hands and fluttered if not for my cold beady eyes, staring down on her. I smirked and left the office, disgusted yet proud.

Fast forward to today, I saw two familiar eyes in the distance. I could tell he still worked out. The only telling signs of aging is the shiny plate on the top of his head. "Mr Richard? Is that really you?", I quizzed in utter disbelief. 'It is me. And you are?", Richard retorted with a voice still strong and firm.

"You might not remember me. You caned me once, a good 11 years ago", came my weak attempt to flashback his memory.
"Well I can't really remember boy. I caned lotsa boys in my time!", Richard smirked while stating his achievements.