All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; fore what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.
- Anatole France
Change. It's something we long for. It's something we dread. Whether we like it or not, change comes upon us, eventually.
I wrote a post about this in January. In a short span of five months, change came upon me, some good, some I wish did not happen. Mama wears the hijab but remains the most fashionable mother around (no, I'm not saying this just because she's my mom or the fact that she reads my blog). And yes, people still say she looks young for her age. Arwen is growing up so fast, and is more intelligent than the whole family combined. I am now in Kelantan, paying rent for the first time in my life. I lost my best friend, anyway, though not from growing apart. I also made new friends, good friends. And best of all, I got reacquainted with old friends, which is always a good thing.
Fazrin told me a few times that Kota Bharu has changed much since I left six years ago. I drove to Kelantan expecting major changes, new streets, new places to hang out. When I arrived, however, the familiarity of the city (town?) seeped in. I drove past KB Mall, which opened a few months before I graduated in 2005, past a florist where I used to buy fresh lilies for my room (say what you want), past a banana-leaf Indian restaurant where Siva and Kean Khang used to take me for lunch, and a few other places that essentially remained the same. Billboards and buntings still use Jawi in addition to Rumi (Roman) spelling. And there are still separate payment counters for males, females, and families.
Of course, there were changes. They're building a new bridge and a flyover toward Pasir Pekan, and there's TESCO where I can get Big Apple donuts (I'm a J. Co guy, sorry), and surprisingly, the apricot juice I love, plus some fresh apricots! Most KB roads are one-way now, which still doesn't contribute much to the abysmal traffic, but the most apparent change has occured in and around my campus. The golf course has been replaced by an open stadium and a few sports complexes, and a few new buildings are cropping up, and along the road in front of the campus, well, the wooden stalls have been replaced by proper shop lots. Kubang Kerian seems to have transformed into a little town, complete with shopping complexes, inns, and bistros.
But the school and the hospital essentially look the same despite the fresh coat of paint and brand new staff uniform color scheme. I'm thankful that doctors don't have to adhere to staff uniforms. I don't do purple well. And it feels like wherever I turn, I greet old undergraduate friends who are pursuing their Master's degree in USM. Some are in their first year like me, while others are in second or third years. One is now pursuing his PhD. I don't want to admit it, but somehow coming back here feels like coming home.
So. Change. Instead of slaving at work, I now have to read academic books. Sure, I do feel stupid when the professor asks about things I've been taking for granted the five years (give or take) I've been in Neurosurgery. Sure, I find that my head is filled with cobwebs, and I've forgotten much of the things I've learned in my undergraduate years. But I find that reading up on the situations and conditions I come across fun. I'm filled with 'Aha' moments. I even borrowed two library books, which is totally out of character. I'm thankful that things are familiar despite the changes, that I can adapt easily.
I don't know what will happen in the next five months, or the next five years, but I realize that my old life has ended. For better or for worse, I've consolidated my path toward my future. Maybe I'll be a Neurosurgeon in four years' time. Maybe I'll stumble along the way. But I hope I'll be able to pick myself up. I don't like giving up.
As for writing, I've managed to write this post, haven't I? I've also written two complete stories and a Tender Moment. Maybe I'll even publish an anthology.
Yes. I am saddened by the loss of my best friend. I am saddened by my hesitation at exploring romance. I feel the pang of being away from my family and the accompanying drama. I miss going to the cinema on opening weekends. I miss my usual dose of Venti Caramel Signature Hot Chocolate from Starbucks. I miss my Unifi and its limitless bandwidth. I miss arguing with Arwen. I miss operating on patients. I miss my friends back in HKL.
I miss a lot of things. But I am open to new experiences.
Change.
Bring it on.
Senthil, Adrian, me, Jon Kooi, Jason, Yew Chin, Ailani, and Raffiz.
That Saturday afternoon was perfect for postcards -- brilliant sky, clouds scattered like streaks of white paint, and the sun beaming down with all its glory. I hated it. In postcards you don't get to feel the heat coming from the sky, from the streets, and reflected off buildings. My T-shirt slurped with every movement, and beads of sweat trickled down the small of my back.
"Min, c'mon." Jin-Wei beckoned me to cross the street, where the pedestrian light had just turned green.
I hated the heat, but I loved hanging out with Jin-Wei more. There was no contest. I took his hand and we ran like children, laughing, even though there was ample time left for us to cross. People turned and gave us a funny look. Both of us were sixteen; we had a right to act like children whenever we felt like it.
Jin-Wei didn't let go of my hand even after we made it across the street. God, his skin was so much fairer than mine, almost pale, and I'm fair for a Malay girl. Such contrast to the leather bands he wore around his wrist. He had a firm grip, but gentle at the same time. I could feel the calluses at his fingertips, but the rest of his palm was soft. The checkered shirt he wore, it was my birthday gift to him. He shouldn't have worn it in this heat, but somehow he loved the shirt.
"What?"
"What what?" I asked him back.
Jin-Wei grinned. "You were staring at my head."
"I like your new haircut." It suited him. Short at the sides, messy on top.
"Twelve ringgit. Not bad, huh?" He was still grinning.
"Where are we going? Please tell me there's air-conditioning."
"You're cute when you whine, you know that?"
I stopped and stuck my tongue out.
"C'mon. It's not that far."
We weaved through a throng of humanity along Petaling Street. I couldn't figure out why people wanted to walk about in this heat. Those who didn't wear shades narrowed their eyes to slits. The streets were no less busy. Honks blared, motorcycles sped by, and buses spluttered black exhaust clouds. I kept close to Jin-Wei and kept my own grip firm. I didn't want to lose him in this forest of strangers.
Jin-Wei stopped in front of a shop that must have been built long before Malaysia got its independence. The white paint had peeled off in patches. Guitars covered most of the walls, from shades of brown to colorful ones (there was even a pink guitar). As if the place wasn't crowded enough, I saw at least four pianos crammed at the back.
Jin-Wei raised his free hand to greet a bald man with thick glasses sitting behind the counter. His Pagoda T-shirt looked worn. "Hi, Uncle."
"Aiyah, you said you'd come last week." He looked more like a grandpa than an uncle, even though I was pretty sure he and Jin-Wei weren't related, their exchange told me Jin-Wei frequented this shop. "Who's this leng loi?"
I knew enough Cantonese to understand "pretty girl". I must have blushed, because both the old man and Jin-Wei grinned.
"Min, this is Uncle Chan. Uncle, this is my girlfriend. You replaced the tuning keys?"
"Long time ago. You sure you don't want a new guitar?"
"Nah. They don't sound right."
I suddenly felt out of place. This was Jin-Wei's private world, and I felt like an intruder. I didn't belong here. "I'm going to wait outside."
My anxiety must have shown because Jin-Wei immediately stepped behind me and rested his hands on my shoulders. "Don't. I want to show you something. Uncle, like usual?"
The old man returned to reading his newspaper and gave a lazy wave.
"C'mon." Jin-Wei led me toward the back of the shop. He stopped in front of an upright piano. He pointed at the bench with his chin. I could make out a shadow of a stubble on his otherwise smooth face. "Sit down."
I did as he asked, not knowing what was happening, and he plopped down beside me. He flexed his fingers and spread them on the keyboard.
"I thought you play the guitar?" I hooked my hair with my fingers and let it rest in front of my right shoulder.
"I like it when you do that."
"What?"
"Play with your hair when you're nervous."
"I don't--" Then I realized I was still combing my hair with my fingers.
"Anyway, I'm the only child in a Chinese family. Of course I play more than one instrument." Somehow he didn't sound cocky when he said this. "Promise me you won't laugh." Jin-Wei closed his eyes, bit his bottom lip, and launched into a song that I immediately recognized.
What I didn't expect was his voice.
I walked across an empty land I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
Jin-Wei's voice was light and pure. He pulled me in and held me in a thrall.
I felt the earth beneath my feet Sat by the river and it made me complete
Nothing else existed, only his voice, his dimpled cheeks, and his endless lashes. I stopped moving. The world stopped moving. Only the song existed.
Oh simple thing where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on So tell me when you're gonna let me in I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin
I came across a fallen tree I felt the branches of it looking at me Is this the place we used to love? Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?
Oh simple thing where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on So tell me when you're gonna let me in I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin
And if you have a minute why don't we go Talk about it somewhere only we know? This could be the end of everything So why don't we go Somewhere only we know?
Oh simple thing where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on So tell me when you're gonna let me in I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin
And if you have a minute why don't we go Talk about it somewhere only we know? This could be the end of everything So why don't we go So why don't we go
This could be the end of everything So why don't we go Somewhere only we know? Somewhere only we know
This could be the end of everything, So why don't we go, Somewhere only we know, Somewhere only we know, Somewhere only we know.
He sang the last two lines without playing the piano, his voice a soft whisper, his eyes closed. Only after he finished did I realize I had been crying.
"That was--"
Jin-Wei bit his bottom lip again. "I wanted to play you the song at a fancy restaurant somewhere, but--"
"That was perfect." And it was. Jin-Wei had brought me to his secret place, and he had sung for my ears alone. I could not have asked for more.
He took my hand and held it close to his lips. "I'm glad you like it." He smiled and kissed the back of my hand.
I saw myself reflected in his eyes, and he must have seen himself reflected in mine, because his dimples deepened.
