Chance
This is my ninth day in Sydney. Seeing Ethan again is just fabulous. He is still the same sweet and loving friend- but with a grey cloud of stress and gloom around him. Work assignment here isn’t that smooth and I have been waiting for him up late these nights. Well, just wanna be there for him for an hour or two... before he passed out on bed till the next morning and head for work early in the morning.
Throughout my stay, I have been hibernating in the studio apartment, working on a group project while my Aussie groupmate seemed to be missing in action. Kinda worried she will pull a fast one on me…. But I’m keeping my cool as with my current research report will garner a Pass anyway. This is my last semester… and seriously- I can’t be bothered too much with academic stuff. All I can think is about homecoming and travel plans.
When boredom started to cave in, I went for walks. Spent 3 hours with lappie in Starbucks. Watched a delightful Hairspray. You may not believe it but I yet to shop for anything, where our apartment is in midst of shopping paradise. Just don’t have the cash and mood for it. Sorry, Chiam…. Might not be able to buy any ‘I think you will like cos I don’t’ tops or dresses for you over here.
Went clubbing with Ethan last Saturday. Like always, whenever we travelled, club hopping will be a ritual. Two of us, braving the cold wind, walked from streets to streets for booze and music. Drinks were pretty cheap but the music really sucked, their lighting techniques were sub-standard, ambience was a tad tacky with loads of rowdy and crass youngsters. I miss Zouk and Café Del Mar so damn much.....
Afandi and Jenny, long-time friends of mine, took us to dinner at Bondi Beach. In fact, I just came back from a group date with them. Together with six Indonesia friends of theirs, I was unwillingly led to KTV near Hyde Park. Karaoke is not really my favourite choice of fun…. Sometimes I really wondered why people love it so much. When you bare your soul out, singing your guts out- your friends are happily talking over the music, totally oblivious of the effort going on with the microphones. Only till it is their turn… but then again, it will be your turn to make loud conversations.
What’s the point exactly? If you want to talk, a nice bar will do the trick. If you want to sing, go with a friend or just alone.
Nevertheless, I was having a nice time reading the lyrics off the screen. Busy smirking at how corny Mandarin Pop can. Most of the Mandarin songs really put me off with their lack of creativity, extreme mushiness and cheesiness. I have my reasons for loving western music. I totally dig those lyrics that are subtle in expressing emotions, yet with the power of words, sentence structures and figments of personal memories to convey meanings that caught you off guard.
Oh well, I am not going to rant about music preferences. What sent me deep in thoughts was a song duet performance by Afandi and Jenny. Afandi did not know how to read the Chinese characters on the screen and had to rely on Jenny to read out the words in hushed tone, in between her part and his. It was amazing.
He managed to get them right on the spot. Both of them sung so beautifully in harmony. This is the couple that have been together more than 10 years. As I stole sideway glances, the sight of them singing in perfect unison, her hand in his, have me sighing with envy. They are a lovely picture of Love- a perfect coupling with individual flaws. And the very existence of the bond and chemistry they share so intimately have overcome weaknesses and troubles. They stumbled through life in combined wisdom and braveness.
And I have no idea how to achieve that. Perhaps, not in this lifetime.