One weekend ago, a lifetime away

 

I am restless. I am athirst for faraway things.

My soul goes out in a longing to touch the skirt of the dim distance.

O Great Beyond, O the keen call of thy flute!

I forget, I ever forget

That I have no wings to fly,

That I am bound in this spot evermore.

- Rabindranath Tagore, The Gardener (1915)

 

Last weekend, I (finally) sat down and assembled this prized possession of mine: Zero Wing Custom Gundam, perfect grade. Reza gave it to me two years ago as a birthday gift. Or was it three? We gave each other birthday gifts every year since we first became friends. I guess the tradition stops this year, but I'm not going to dwell on that.

So what took me so long to assemble the model? For years I'd always wanted it, but buying this particular model was...hmm...I guess I can afford the price (ranges from RM480 to RM550), but buying something for myself is not as special as receiving it from people I care about. Sorta like the plasma globe that Faiz had been promising to get me for over 10 years. I ended up buying it myself, but it felt absolutely blah.

I like Gundam just as much as I like Macross, Rahxephon, Evangelion and other mecha-based animes. That's to say I'm not a die-hard fan.

But I'm a sucker for wings.

I have this obsession with winged creatures, more so when they're mythical, such as angels, chimeras, dragons, fairies, Pegasus and others. If you browse through my collection of drawings and sketches over the years, since I was old enough to draw, you'd find wings. There's a psychological significance to it somewhere, and my best guess is that I've always longed to escape far, far away. That's why I love reading Fantasy. For the time I read those novels, I get to live lives not my own.

Anyway. Reza bought me this ridiculously expensive gift, and I wanted things to be perfect. I thought about airbrushing the pieces, make them look more real. I planned a lot of things, but like most things I plan, I didn't follow it through. So the box sat in my wardrobe, collecting dust.

And then the unthinkable happened: I lost my best friend, one of the few people I counted on to be as close as my siblings, fifty years from now. For two months I tried patching things up, but when love turns to hatred, I guess there's no repairing the damage. So I decided I needed a closure. I needed something to remind me of the best times because even though things turned sour on both sides, he was still my best friend. Nothing will dull that.

So my last trip home, I almost tore my room down looking for the box. Someone stored it on the topmost-shelf, apparently. Big drama. I brought back to Kelantan this big-ass box, which I had to hand-carry because I couldn't fit into the luggage. Mama packed it in a Universal Studios Singapore bag (with half the box jutting out). And last weekend I opened the box and assembled the model. Just like that.

This was what the box looked like, unopened.

 

The parts were organized in A LOT of frames, called trees, and each tree had its own alphabetical designation.

 

This was what the model was supposed to look like when assembled. The parts were airbrushed to add shade and depth. I wanted to achieve this, but we don't always get what we want.

Yes. The manual is in JAPANESE, and I don't understand a single word of it. Luckily, the parts were given Roman alphabets and numberings, and the illustrations were highly accurate and informative. At least I could read those.

I took this picture after taking out most of the trees out of the box. I should have taken a picture during assembly. Way, way messier. The cutter I borrowed from Ayis, who's also an action-figure junkie. When I discovered screws were involved, I had to stop and drive all the way to Tesco. It was 17:30, on a weekend (Friday). Horrible time to drive out in KB. But since I had some groceries to buy, I figured why the hell not.

 

This is the right upper limb, assembled. Note the details, and the fingers. Jointed fingers, movable like a real person's. Putting together this one limb alone took me over an hour.

 

Both upper limbs. I just love the fingers! Models of lesser grades (master grade and below) don't have jointed fingers, and most of the time they're just one piece cut to look like four distinct fingers. I could have folded the fingers and just extend the middle ones, but I'm not THAT vulgar.

I actually took this one to show the extent of detailing in the model, and to make it more impressive, you don't get to see this part in the end-product. These inner parts stay hidden under the outer shell. But still They designed the parts with loving care. Note the chrome bit and the spring. They're real, made out of metal. I kid you not. Somehow I love this shot.

As you can tell, this is the lower limb, partially done. Looks like a real robotic part, doesn't it?

I shot this to compare both lower limbs, one done. I mentioned earlier that the inner details ended up hidden underneath the outer shell, right? Isn't it awesome or what?

More parts with actual metal. This is the pelvic region. Again, despite the level of detail, none of these would show in the end product.

The head and torso. Notice the small white figure beneath the neck? That's the pilot, just to show how big-ass the mecha really is, if it exists in real life. Oh yeah, the green circular thingy? There's an LED bulb behind it, connected to wires, connected to a pair of batteries, and will light up when turned on. Yes, I had to do some wiring as well. Didn't know I had it in me.

This is the completed model, but without the wings. Doesn't he just look. Freaking. Awesome?!

Okay, so this chrome photo-finish seems out of place. I made it my Facebook profile picture. Because I can.

And this, boys and girls, is the finished model. Notice the wingspan. Notice the bendable wing tips. Notice the two lightsabers he's wielding. This model stands on the TV shelf, almost as tall as the 29-inch TV. His wings are heavy and make posing a challenge, and I have to look for a proper stand if I want to pose him in flight, but just LOOK AT THOSE WINGS!

 

So. I spent a whole weekend assembling this model, and in a few years my back will pay for it from the longs hours sitting on the floor bent forward like Gollum. Reza used to pester me to assemble this Gundam so he could admire it, but I guess that will never happen. But I don't think it matters anymore. Every time I enter the apartment, this Gundam is what I see first, and I'll always smile and think the good things. Only the good things.

And as closures go, it's a damn good one.

Comments

[Breanna]

This. Write in *this* voice for Ezra.

I know this is *your* voice...but...um...yeah.

Well, I already said it.

[John Ling]

You don't really get over losing someone precious; you just learn to get by, and with time, you get better at getting by. But at least you have something positive to remember your friend Reza by. And who knows. He may well be reading this post this very moment.

[Fadzlishah Johanabas]

It's not about getting over losing my best friend. It's about me moving forward with my life, and being positive about everything. I doubt Reza will ever read this or any other post pertaining him, but you never know.

Thanks, John.