© Severin M. Koller
It was our chance to get away from it all; from work that never seem to end; from parents that remind us about our age and our accumulating responsibilities; from people we don't know what to say to anymore; from Singapore. With nothing with us except our passports, we hopped onto a friend's fast car, headed north and vowed never to return to our mundane lives again.
It's always fun to just pack up and leave in the company of old friends because they make great travelling partners. You know everything about them; from how they sleep, to their irritating habits, from their past lovers to their favourite food. They don't surprise you anymore. Perhaps it is this comfortable familiarity that gives us space to breathe beyond the demands of our daily lives. Old friends don't judge, they listen.
There were moments where we laughed at the same old anecdotes, while getting caught in the causeway jam under the hot afternoon sun. Protected by blasts of air-con, we would chide her endlessly for her bad driving, tease him for his bad taste in women, and more often than not, we debate repeatedly about the titles of lousiest sense of direction, worst cook and biggest belly.
We would ask about each other's plans for the future. Like how she's still on the lookout for that eligible Prince Charming; when was he going to get his bachelor's pad and stay a swinging single; when he was going to marry his girlfriend; how all the girls would aspire to be tai tais and how everyone were all going to Bangkok next week without me. Sheesh.
But nothing was said about what would happen to us when we all get caught up with Life eventually. Will we still be old friends then? I wonder sometimes.
There were also moments where we sat silent, half listening to the horrible diction on "一路向北", half looking out to the unfamiliar landscape beyond the windscreen. Each of us thinking about the things we thought we left behind.
We didn't keep to our vows of leaving Singapore forever, of course. Someone would have work that needs to be cleared up, a person they need to meet, or family they can't leave behind. So after some miserable shopping and an enjoyable seafood dinner, we each gave our individual excuses and headed back home anyway.
We all pretended that the vow meant something then, because as old friends anything could be done together. But we also knew that we were no longer as free spirited as our younger days, for we are older now and laden with responsibilities.
On the way home, all of us were silent once more. Amidst the soft purr of the air-conditioning and Jay Chou's crooning, we felt fortunate to be going home with old friends, even though we were returning to our mundane lives again. "Next time," we'd always say.
But perhaps we never did intend to leave after all.
It's always fun to just pack up and leave in the company of old friends because they make great travelling partners. You know everything about them; from how they sleep, to their irritating habits, from their past lovers to their favourite food. They don't surprise you anymore. Perhaps it is this comfortable familiarity that gives us space to breathe beyond the demands of our daily lives. Old friends don't judge, they listen.
There were moments where we laughed at the same old anecdotes, while getting caught in the causeway jam under the hot afternoon sun. Protected by blasts of air-con, we would chide her endlessly for her bad driving, tease him for his bad taste in women, and more often than not, we debate repeatedly about the titles of lousiest sense of direction, worst cook and biggest belly.
We would ask about each other's plans for the future. Like how she's still on the lookout for that eligible Prince Charming; when was he going to get his bachelor's pad and stay a swinging single; when he was going to marry his girlfriend; how all the girls would aspire to be tai tais and how everyone were all going to Bangkok next week without me. Sheesh.
But nothing was said about what would happen to us when we all get caught up with Life eventually. Will we still be old friends then? I wonder sometimes.
There were also moments where we sat silent, half listening to the horrible diction on "一路向北", half looking out to the unfamiliar landscape beyond the windscreen. Each of us thinking about the things we thought we left behind.
We didn't keep to our vows of leaving Singapore forever, of course. Someone would have work that needs to be cleared up, a person they need to meet, or family they can't leave behind. So after some miserable shopping and an enjoyable seafood dinner, we each gave our individual excuses and headed back home anyway.
We all pretended that the vow meant something then, because as old friends anything could be done together. But we also knew that we were no longer as free spirited as our younger days, for we are older now and laden with responsibilities.
On the way home, all of us were silent once more. Amidst the soft purr of the air-conditioning and Jay Chou's crooning, we felt fortunate to be going home with old friends, even though we were returning to our mundane lives again. "Next time," we'd always say.
But perhaps we never did intend to leave after all.
Technorati Tags: Old Friends, Road Trip, JB, Singapore
2 comments:
Eish, so poignant...
Thank you so much for sharing your story. It's very informative. I love to read it and do hope to read your next story.
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