:: Gone The Rainy Days ::
Last weekend, I met Wendy up for brunch at Flutes
Which unfortunately was closed for the weekend.
An abrupt downpour saw us scrambling for cover at
The nearby Philatelic Museum. Wen was confident that
The staff managing the museum will lend us an umbrella
But he passed us some old newspapers instead. Undeterred,
We scouted around the neighborhood and chanced upon
Curry Favor near City Hall. There was a cosy corner in the eatery, with
The window panes offering a view of the busy street and the
Transiting man and machines, complete with the
Pitter patter of the falling rain. The perfect mood for making
Great conversations, something we're not unfamiliar with.
I told her about the turning point in my life, and how news doors have opened
As as the older doors closed behind me. She listened, and told me about her
Moment of consolidation as she turned thirty. We spoke of the past, of how
We've moved in parallel over the past twelve years yet keeping in close touch
When we least expect it. We spoke of death, and of closure.
I asked, "are you afraid to die?"
She said, "I'm not ready to die yet."
"There're still things that I want to do."
"Even if you know that they do not matter at the end?"
"Well, they matter to me."
"Even if these things that matter mean nothing as our lifetime is just this tiny fraction in the entire life-span of the universe?"
"It could very well be, but if I could make a difference, why not?"
And we rattled on; there was no right or wrong; just the
Sharing of opinions. And understanding.
In the subconscious, another conversation was taking place.
She knew what she wanted to ask but she did not do so.
I knew what she wanted to ask but I did not initiate the answer.
And so we went on, talking about the past, the present and the future.
After the meal, we took a short stroll back to the car.
I thought to myself:
Some things will never change, and will always be the same,
Just like my mood during rainy days.