It's a small world after alllllllll...
It’s a small world after alllllllll…
Now there are people dropping by from futile searches in Google for “will+matrix+reloaded+be+shown+in+malaysia”. Yes, there were rumours. No, the fate of the movies has yet to be confirmed. And I damn well want to watch the movies here. You know, all this talk about the movies is a bit.. unsettling. Of course, I am to be blamed in playing a part in this.
Sometimes I wonder who stops by here. Do I know you in real life? Are you an acquaintance? Do not tell me you were the one who sat two chairs away from me when we were in Standard Five. Whoa, so you and I stood next to each other during choral speaking?
What was supposed to be an innocent night out with my brother and his wife for ice-cream at Swenson’s (mmm.. Earthquake!) had me pondering about a lot of things. We picked a table and were looking through the menu, before another group of diners came in. Three guys sat down comfortably two tables away from us. I sneaked a glance at them. One of them stood out in particular because he tied up his hair, and it was about seven inches long, bobbing up and down behind him. Later, a petite looking girl dressed in a pink Esprit shirt and denim shorts settled down on a seat beside him.
I did not give it a thought until I felt a little uneasy. I was being stared at – and it was the girl in pink, grinning at me. My mind began registering her features, and ka-ching!.. I muttered “Shit.”
E was my classmate back in primary school. I slowly got up, and she did the same. It seemed that she came with her brother, and two friends – one of them being her boyfriend. We proceeded to an empty spot nearby, away from everyone else – and were soon deeply engaged in conversation, catching up with stories and news, talking about the lives.. and sadly, the deaths of former schoolmates. We talked about a lot of things, for over an hour – after all, we have not seen nor contact each other for eight years. There never was a reason to, really – we were not exactly in talking terms when we left primary school, due to the childish banters and immature fights we had. I was silently wondering about the irony of it all – here she was, telling me of how most of her high school friends turned their backs against her – in contrast, I have been digging deeper into the anti-social circle, and it had been mainly because of her.
Until she dropped her voice and whispered to me, “Gee, the girl beside your brother looks familiar. Who is she?” I replied nonchalantly, “Oh, that’s my sister-in-law.” E then guessed a few details about my sister-in-law – then confirmed that she had been E’s brother’s ex-girlfriend. I was stunned by the revelation.
E and I used to do a lot of things together. We had the same piano teacher; we had the same tuition teacher. I used to have lunch at her house, and played with her younger sister. Sometimes my brother would fetch me home from her place. Had he knew that his future wife could be there as well? I myself wondered if I have actually first met my sister-in-law in E’s place. Probably not. E’s brother has a reputation of being a playboy sort – he would have a lot of girlfriends at one particular time, ditched a few the next. It was not surprising that I learned from E that he was bored with his current girlfriend.
I did not have much appetite to devour my ice-cream-turned-milkshake with myriad flavours after that. When we got back home later, I told my sister-in-law (who had failed to notice that her ex-boyfriend had been sitting just two tables away) about it. She was surprised; indeed she had not recognised him. She shrugged it off nonchalantly, told me she had not been in contact with him for almost ten years now, and continued doing her work.
A part of me wished E never told me about it. I feel as if I did not need to know. I kicked myself for suggesting a night out for ice-cream in the first place. I am not angry. I just do not fancy knowing that the world seems to be getting smaller and smaller. I am not pleased at that fact because it seems to suggest something else. It made me feel doubly insecure, and although I am aware that I am a mere speck on this planet, I felt as if I am suddenly connected to everyone.
Or could it be fate? Why is it that we all seem to be related to each other in one way or another? We get on with our lives, oblivious, and never stopping to think twice about the stranger behind you. Beside you. In front of you. You could be standing on the pavement beside a beggar, waiting to cross the road – and you never knew that he was actually your father’s brother’s illegitimate son. You could be haggling with an elderly lady over a small bouquet of chrysanthemums – had she knew you were her daughter’s nephew’s great-great-grandson, she would have given one whole big bouquet of it to you for free.
Damn, it is a small world after all. Unfortunately, the song just does not seem to go away from my head.
On air now: The Path of Thorns, Sarah McLachlan