Strangers Who Meet

Our eyes met

Across the street

So fleeting, so quick

A connection made

I could have smiled

You would have nodded

You could have said hi

And a beginning would have begun

But the lights turn green

And we started to walk

Past each other

The moment lost

Ah Gong

Ah Gong hates being in front of the camera unless he really has to. Or at least that’s what I get from him. He does things at his own pace and time, without explaining anything to the rest of us. That frustrates us quite a lot, because we don’t understand why he’s doing it in a certain way.

He likes to take walks. We used to let him do that on his own, but lately we get worried, because he’s getting older. We tried making him carry a hand phone around, but he didn’t want to. Until Ah Ma fell ill and got admitted into the hospital. Then we insisted that he did. I remember helping him to save my number into his phone for him and trying to teach him how to use it. I don’t think I did a good job though. And I probably confused him even more.

Ah Gong always worries for us. He’d call me on my hand phone every now and then to ask if I was home and if I had eaten. He’d ask if I’m doing well in school and encourages me to keep going. The phone calls don’t usually last longer than a minute because I’m always too busy for Ah Gong. I’m sorry. I’ll try to make them last longer.

Ah Gong likes to have simple food. He doesn’t like interesting or extravagant food like fusion dishes. Give him Teochew porridge and he’s happy. Or dim sum. I remember him saying that he really liked the dim sum place at the OCBC Building we went to once.

I made Ah Gong cry once. Because I messed up my life and made him worry. Even everyone tried hiding it from him; he still knew that something was wrong with me. He said I didn’t laugh as much as I used too. And somehow, he knew that I was spiraling downwards, out-of-control. And the fact that he couldn’t go anything to help me, scared him, and he cried in front of me. That was the first time I’ve ever seen my Ah Gong cry. I’m sorry I was the reason why. I promise I’ll try my best not to screw up again.

Ah Gong always made sure I knew that he’d be there for me. Be it feeding me chocolates and ice cream whenever I looked upset or stressed out, or asking the maid to cook my favourite soup if he knew I was going over. Sometimes, he’d smuggle money to me and ask me to spend it wisely. Above all, he’d always tell me that everything was going to be alright because Ah gong is here to help.

My Ah Gong is a stubborn, silent old man, set in his ways. He hates depending on others and most of the time he seems quite taciturn. But he actually teases me a lot and makes fun of me. One time, it was drizzling and he stood in the shelter talking to me, while I got rained on, just to laugh at me. Other times, he’d tell me he was going to buy me lunch, but I would be paying. And we’d laugh about all these times that they have become our own private jokes.

Thank you, Ah Gong, for never giving up on me and for loving me as stubborn as I am.

Yours for the Night

In the dark

There’s no need to see

Touch comes naturally

And feelings go into overdrive

We’ve only got tonight

Don’t waste it

When the sun rises

I have to go

The room’s cold

But we’re slick with sweat

If passion were fire

We’d be burning bright

I close my eyes

Every kiss you give

Every lick I feel

Intensifies with your body on mine

Your breath caress my skin

You feel my lips on your chest

As I make my way down

You wait in anticipation

You push me

Up against the wall

Taking me over the countertop

In a fervent, desperate need

Time stops

As sweet surrender takes us both

When the fireworks end

We collapse in each other’s arms in respite

Tonight, I am yours

To take and to hold

On the morrow

I’ll disappear with the coming sun

In a cafe with Debussy

We sat at the cafe, by the river, the sea breeze making a mess of our hair. I lit my cigarette and you ordered our drinks. The pianist was having his break, so they played a mix of ballads by different singers. I heard Taylor Swift's Begin Again floating around. The lull of conversation and clinking of wine glasses surrounded us, as we sat there in silence, both unsure of what to say.

I looked up and caught your eye, and you gave that awkward half-smile that only you could do. The waiter brought our drinks, setting them down, and we fell back into the awkward yet comfortable silence (if that made any sense at all). I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, anything, that could break the silence. You looked at me and my words disappeared.

There was a scraping of chairs and the pianist sat down at the grand piano. The music stopped, and he began playing. There was a sudden silence and he began playing Debussy's Clair de Lune. We looked at each other and gave each other that knowing smile.

And suddenly, it all just clicked. I had finally found my way home. And it was with you.



Picture by: Royston Toh