Dedicated to a long lost friend

We were in the same class in PPP, for English Intensive Course. He was a thin guy, with thinning hair and light brown eyes which he loved to brag about. He is taller than me by 1 cm, but being a guy, he appeared shorter than me. To him, that 1 cm meant a lot.

In essay class, he loved to use words that are rarely used. Words that he found in dictionaries when he read it. He would do his best to fit the words in his essays though at times the lecturer would tell him that the words were not suitable. Once, he was looking for a word to describe the Sultan Abdul Samad building. The whole class was asked to think of the word. We failed. He later remembered the word and told us that the word he was looking for was 'Moorish'. As in 'Moorish architecture'. Dang. Never in my life had I heard the word.

Somehow, we got close. He then became one of the best friend that I have had in my life. Ever. The one and a half years in PPP was great because of him. He was there for me through thick and thin. Cliche as it may be, but it was true.

We would spent hours for dinner at the Section 2 stall. We'd be eating, talking and he would be puffing away his Dunhill like a chimney. I'd go back to my room later, smelling Dunhill. We would sit near the drain, by the hostels after dinner until the time came for us to get back to the hostels. Some times, until much later, when the guard had to ask us to leave. At times, we'd be together. At times, we'd be accompanied by other friends. And at times, he'd had his guitar with him and we'd sing along together.

Like good friend, there were times when we argued. I couldn't think of anything that we've argued before, but I remembered that each time we argued and had a fight, we would be giving each other a silent treatment. It's something that we mastered too well. We could walk passed each other, and pretended like the others didn't exist. It would go on for days and I'd be very miserable during those days. Normally, in the end I'd gave up and reconciled. Of course, he'd love it. His ego remained intact.

Those days, I've never spent my time lepaking in the city, at night. He knew about it, and we planned to spend Merdeka night in KL. We joined the crowd cheering 'Merdeka' at the struck of 12 midnight in Dataran Merdeka but somehow, there was not much of a celebration and the crowd dispersed not long after. I guess I was mistaken between Merdeka celebration and New Year's celebration. I might have thought that there'd be huge celebration for Merdeka. I was wrong.

Mamaks and 24 hour eating outlets were not famous yet at that time. Very few shops open until late. We couldn't just hang around anywhere and lepak by the roadside. DBKL or someone would surely chase us away. There's no way that we could go back to the hostel as the gate would have been closed by then, and we were supposedly be in the hostel. Going back to my parents place would be hell as well. Having not much choice, we sat at one of those shops after roaming around the streets of KL that night, waiting for the sun to show itself.

It was a relief seeing the morning sun. We then decided to watch a morning movie. Sure, we bought the tickets and went in. But, I dozed inside and couldn't even remember what we watched. Later back in PPP, we planned to meet that night and challanged each other, to see who'd be able to wake up after the long hours. Little did I know that I was so damn tired. I slept for 15 hours that night, only to wake up the day after. He claimed that he was up for dinner that night, and asked someone to call me. But then, I was sound asleep and didn't know what was happening around me. Well, that was his claim. I've never verified the claim.

In the morning of my birthday in 1991, I woke up to see a white bedspread, painted with red paint written 'Happy Birthday' on it, hung up on the next hostel's block wall. It was so sweet. Later, we went out to KL and I was asked to choose my birthday present. For some reason, I chose a dolphin softoy. To this date, that's the only softoy that remains with me, in my bed, when others had been given away.

Something happened in late 1991, and we parted our ways. I have never really lost contact with him, but we just didn't contact each other. I thought of him a lot of times, but never came close to even giving him a call. Until this morning.

I called him, and we met up for lunch. The great thing is, we spoke like it was just yesterday we saw each other although we haven't met for more than 9 years. I last saw him at his wedding but I didn't get the chance to talk to him. And now, he already has 2 kids. Time flies, people change, things change. But sometimes, it's good to have something remain the same.

Great to see you again, buddy!!

Angah