Thursday, August 5
The bus pulled to a stop in front of him. He recalled being at this exact same moment: the way the bus pulled up at the stop; the way he was standing in anticipation; the way he felt; it was all too familiar.
You're crazy.
Maybe.
He loved bus trips. A lot. He settled himself at the back of the bus and gazed out of the stained window. A little girl was trying to tie her shoelaces, without success. She pouted her mouth and demanded that her mother do it for her. Her mother was wearing a floral dress, red high heels and an exquisite black purse. She resembled a woman from the post-war era, elegant, humble but potentially dangerous.
How could she be? What a weird idea.
The mother bent down and did the laces in a few swift movements. She smiled at her daughter, who grinned back, with beautiful dimples. The mother stood up and saw him looking at them. She smiled at him, taking her daughter's hand in hers. He looked away quickly, not knowing the most apt thing to do. Should I smile back? Was I too rude to turn away like that?
The familiar rumbling told him the bus is moving. Towards home. He turned and spied the duo boarding the bus behind. Maybe I'll have a daughter like that. And a wife. Maybe.
He remembered the first time he tried tying his own laces, and he failed. He remembered it was a pair of blue shoes, with cartoon characters at the sides, and the laces was a sky blue too. He loved that pair of shoes. He also remembered the way his father had knelt down and showed him how it was done; and what he said to him, "Once you learn how to tie your shoelaces, you will be a big boy." And he believed his father. But now he does not feel so grown up; on the contrary, he felt small and vulnerable.
Maybe it was the sky, which had turned a steely grey, threatening to cast a blanket of rain onto the earth, cleansing it of all the grime it had accumulated - the sins and immorality. He had always thought rain was our salvation for the many crimes we have committed, and our respite on our tedious journey of life, washing the dust of the road off us.
That's uncalled for. Really.
"Aiyo, it's going to rain soon. Don't know if Ah Boy brought his umbrella?" A woman muttered in front of him. It always surprises him the amount of love a mother has for her children; and that love does not expect any form of reciprocation. Not ever. Not even when their children had children, and grandchildren and great grandchildren. Not even when all is void and the world is no more and everything is forgotten.
Yet the rose that blooms for you carries thorns; imperfections in its beauty; flaws in its glory. Pity, he thought, shrugging ever so slightly. He was very conscious of himself.
It was then that he saw him; pristine features, a chiselled face, a lean and bronzed frame.
He's beautiful.
What? What did you say?
I said he's really beautiful.
Oh god, you're gay.
No, I'm not. I just think he looks good.
Precisely.
He chose not to argue. After all, he would know himself best. He glanced at that young man again and their eyes caught each other momentarily; he averted his gaze coolly.
Beautiful.
this is not catherine lim!!!! this is the one, the only, KOONIEEE!!! haha.. i guess the genius that was hiding inside of him finally decided to show up..
btw, did u hear abt the girl whose spectacles fall off everytime she tries to put them on.. well, one day she went to see an eye doctor. but strangely, he referred her to a nose doctor. As it turns out, she had no nose.
You're crazy.
Maybe.
He loved bus trips. A lot. He settled himself at the back of the bus and gazed out of the stained window. A little girl was trying to tie her shoelaces, without success. She pouted her mouth and demanded that her mother do it for her. Her mother was wearing a floral dress, red high heels and an exquisite black purse. She resembled a woman from the post-war era, elegant, humble but potentially dangerous.
How could she be? What a weird idea.
The mother bent down and did the laces in a few swift movements. She smiled at her daughter, who grinned back, with beautiful dimples. The mother stood up and saw him looking at them. She smiled at him, taking her daughter's hand in hers. He looked away quickly, not knowing the most apt thing to do. Should I smile back? Was I too rude to turn away like that?
The familiar rumbling told him the bus is moving. Towards home. He turned and spied the duo boarding the bus behind. Maybe I'll have a daughter like that. And a wife. Maybe.
He remembered the first time he tried tying his own laces, and he failed. He remembered it was a pair of blue shoes, with cartoon characters at the sides, and the laces was a sky blue too. He loved that pair of shoes. He also remembered the way his father had knelt down and showed him how it was done; and what he said to him, "Once you learn how to tie your shoelaces, you will be a big boy." And he believed his father. But now he does not feel so grown up; on the contrary, he felt small and vulnerable.
Maybe it was the sky, which had turned a steely grey, threatening to cast a blanket of rain onto the earth, cleansing it of all the grime it had accumulated - the sins and immorality. He had always thought rain was our salvation for the many crimes we have committed, and our respite on our tedious journey of life, washing the dust of the road off us.
That's uncalled for. Really.
"Aiyo, it's going to rain soon. Don't know if Ah Boy brought his umbrella?" A woman muttered in front of him. It always surprises him the amount of love a mother has for her children; and that love does not expect any form of reciprocation. Not ever. Not even when their children had children, and grandchildren and great grandchildren. Not even when all is void and the world is no more and everything is forgotten.
Yet the rose that blooms for you carries thorns; imperfections in its beauty; flaws in its glory. Pity, he thought, shrugging ever so slightly. He was very conscious of himself.
It was then that he saw him; pristine features, a chiselled face, a lean and bronzed frame.
He's beautiful.
What? What did you say?
I said he's really beautiful.
Oh god, you're gay.
No, I'm not. I just think he looks good.
Precisely.
He chose not to argue. After all, he would know himself best. He glanced at that young man again and their eyes caught each other momentarily; he averted his gaze coolly.
Beautiful.
this is not catherine lim!!!! this is the one, the only, KOONIEEE!!! haha.. i guess the genius that was hiding inside of him finally decided to show up..
btw, did u hear abt the girl whose spectacles fall off everytime she tries to put them on.. well, one day she went to see an eye doctor. but strangely, he referred her to a nose doctor. As it turns out, she had no nose.
ABOUT ME
I eat children for breakfast, I like my boys big and thick and I looove scratching my nose. My alter ego? She's that girl your mother warned you about.
ABOUT THE BLOG
Documenting parts of my rather uneventful life with writings that ocassionally display my schizophrenic tendencies. Blame it on the Gemini starsign.
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