On Memories



HuiYi and I have been reminiscing. About the past four years of our life. With and without Frique. All the stupid things we said or did that we now look back upon fondly, laugh hysterically at. All those times we were down, how we pulled each other up. All the funny conversations, tiny squabbles about things that don't really matter. Yes, HuiYi, the word is nostalgic.

I think Sze Min said on the way back from the airport that time shouldn't be allowed to fly past so fast. Yeah it shouldn't. It should be outlawed.


huiyi says:
I WANT TO GO BACK
IN TIME
I REALLY REALLY WANT TO
miranda; night-entangled says:
you have no idea
how many times I've thought that
in the past two weeks


I don't get it. I still miss the Taiwanese as though they just left yesterday. It's official. I'm suffering from a chronic case of missingimportantpeopleitis.

And the memories. They wash over me. Unrepentant, unfazed, unfading. And it all comes in snippets. Triggered by something someone says or something I notice in my environs. More often than not, I'd be sitting staring into the distance on the bus, and I'd remember a scene. I wouldn't be able to help it, I'd smile to myself. But once the memory's over, there's nothing. And that's when the pain kicks in. So the following is more for myself than anyone else. I hardly narrate events but now I'll record down what has been eating away at my heart bit by bit the entire day. And I hope the memories will stay and the emptiness will fill itself up.

Today in the bus, I was reminded of the last day, when we were all sitting on our big blue plastic mats, happy as larks, lazing about doing nothing much. I moved over to Hui Lian's mat to discuss that evening's plans. Hui Lian was chattering as usual, then I started telling Mu Heng and Ming Lun how Hui Lian gets high over soya bean milk. Everyone laughs because it's ridiculous and nobody but Hui Lian can pull that off. Then Hui Lian and I start debating about Mustafa and Bugis street, all the Taiwanese who had absolutely no idea what we were talking about just amused themselves with our heated debate.

And then I remember waiting for Songs of the Sea to start, the anticipation, the cool evening breeze, the elation of a successful evening. Sam was complaining that he was tired, Sze Min and I were saying how we were so happy and so proud of Sam for organising everything. We teased Sam repeatedly, that he was all grown up, and had a mock parent-to-son talk that made Sam's goosebumps rise. We were elated. Then we totally embarrassed Sam by shouting out loud "Ooh... SAMUEL!!!" and the EVERYONE turned around to stare. We laughed so hard because our ploy was successful. Then the show was amazing, we were so high that we sang along to all the songs, Chan Mali Chan, Munnaeru Vaaliba and even the weird Chinese song. It didn't matter that people all around us were staring, it didn't matter that we were probably the loudest and most embarrassing people around. We were so happy and we wanted the whole world to know that.

Then, the luge ride. I harriedly ushered everyone into their groups, getting them all to queue up. Then poor Sam had to get the tickets one by one because of some miscommunication and total incompetence on the management's part. I somewhat embarrassedly unhooked the barrier to let other tourists go first because we took up so much space. I remember yelling loudly, clamouring for attention, beseeching everyone to please look after their stuff, get into groups of three, hold onto their bags. And then, we were finally up. Sam and I went last because we gave out the tickets. I was looking down into the vegetation screaming. "I'm scared of heights!" Sam looked at me sheepishly, and suddenly went, "ME TOOOOOOO!!!!!!" And I remember laughing and laughing as though that was the funniest thing I'd ever heard. I remember how ecstatic we were, with Sam yelling about how it was a well-planned night, us trying to take a photo which failed because we were too scared the camera would fall. I looked around me, with the Merlion and its bloodshot eyes, the serene harbour, the empty roads,the Taiwanese in the carriages before me, some screaming, some laughing, and I felt like crying. That's how ecstatic I was. And we screamed and screamed and laughed till we were out of breath because we finally knew how it felt to have all your efforts rewarded tenfold. Make that thousandfold. I told myself there and then that I would never forget that night. And I think that moment was one of the best of my life.

When we got off the luge, we were still ecstatic. Everyone was raving about how much fun it was. Suddenly someone comes up to me and asks "have you heard what happened to Amanda?" Amanda tells us Mu Heng would be glad to. Sze Min and I scamper off to enquire. Mu Heng looked at our expectant faces and with a conniving smile, tells us all there is to know about Amanda and her Grand Fall Off the Luge. We all had a good laugh at Amanda's expense. Pretty soon the entire entourage had heard about it. Everyone was in sky-high spirits. We walked everyone to the bus bay and waved and waved as the bus drove off into the distance.

And the final night. We loitered around the hotel and finally got sent up the bus by Rong Lan jie after making a phone call to a very cross Mr Ho. Took the bus to Far East and plonked ourselves down outside KFC. Qiu Le and me facing Amanda Samuel. We sat there talking, undecided if we should head back home or to the hotel. It seemed a potential dead end either way. So we pandered, debating, fretted like mother hens. Qiule made and received a few phone calls. I decided to call my mum so we'd have backup and go to my house. Everything seemed solved. We laughed in relief, played the games the Taiwanese taught us. Everyone stared but we were so tired we really couldn't care less. We witnessed first-hand why Orchard is a dangerous place after 12. The night seemed so long and it stretched out before us. But that moment seemed timeless. And we suddenly realised how reckless we were. Thought to ourselves that we'd never lie to our parents again. We finally decided on our fall-back plan, to crash my house and cab to Changi. We sneaked into Hyatt's toilet on the way to the NR7 bus stop. The wait for the bus was arduously long. But it came, finally. And we all felt relief as we surged up the bus and collapsed on the seats.

Fleshing all these memories out is tiring, but I think I really need it. Part of the recuperation process.