I tell myself everyday I should blog more often. You know, I should flex my writing muscles more so I wouldn't freeze in front of the screen and be more inarticulate than usual. But I also tell myself that I should blog about something that I feel close to home. When I have something personal to say. Well, tonight, if you're reading this - then I'm sorry but you have to bear with me on this trip down memory lane. It started when I get on the train.
As usual, I take the train home nightly at around 8 or a little over 8. It's my favorite time of day because when I reach home it's neither too early nor too late; plus I know I wouldn't find myself wrecking my head trying to come up with something to do before I hit the bed. So I got on the train near the office and to get to KLSentral. And I wait for a few minutes for the train to come and I get to go home and do whatever it is that I do nightly such as, updating the iPod or downloading things from it onto the PC.
After a few minutes of waiting in anxiety, the train arrives and I got onboard and looked around for a place to sit. After a few seconds, I found a empty seat next to a girl. It faced the back of the train and I had the isle to myself to stare at. I saw a woman who looks like she's in her mid-twenties in a short black skirt. I was tempted to look her way because, you know, that's how upskirts pictures are done. Heh. But I didn't. I didn't know why. Usually I relish the chance when this sort of opportunity presented itself to me. Tonight I said no to myself.
After a few minutes of sitting and waiting to get home, I saw her. I could see her through the window at the back of the connecting car. I couldn't believe my eyes because she was sort of staring right back at me. This, ladies and gentlemen doesn't happen often enough. Normally, girls look away as if I'm a leper and they'd run away when they see me coming. Or both.
Otherwise, I'd feel like Nazri: Walking on air most of the time and grinning like an idiot because he had found the girl. You lucky prick you.
She was looking my way and I found myself stuck in her gaze. I couldn't look elsewhere. I didn't know what to do. I froze. I fumbled around with the iPod checking what song Neil Young (thanks for lending me the CD, Nina!) was playing at the time; turning it up a little louder to drown the sound of the moving train. She was looking rather comfortable in her white baju kurung and quietly I said to myself, "What kind of school girl goes back at 9? What sort of school would do that to a child? It's insane." I was increasingly dreading the thought of staring at a school girl. With all the respect a person could muster for people like Nazri or the Bart who gets their rocks off staring at barely legal, young girls in flimsy school uniforms, I know I'm not that type. Surely, I'm a little different. Not better, just different. A man has to have principles, you know.
So the train rides the slightly bumpy rails that slithers ever so gracefully. Like a Japanese woman in a kimono, all grace and respect. I was looking around and I realise that she was staring back at me. I know this. I know because when the train rides the turns in the railway, our cars are out of sync and she adjusts herself a little so we wouldn't lose eye contact. I love it when she does that. We stared at each other, smiling, embarassed, because we know that we're were caught staring at each other. She gets it. For me, it was an instant death. Thank you, God.
She wears her hair neck length. A neat bob. No bangs and at the time, some of it was covering her face. Her skin is brown and she has soft facial features. From where I was sitting, I could see her cute nose and thin, friendly lips. We smiled at each other because it was silly being locked in a staring contest for close to 20 minutes. Tell me, what else can a man do when he has a cute girl staring back at him on a train at 9 p.m? I was praying to God that the train ride would last forever. Or atleast, until she get off at Shah Alam and I walk right up to her, say hello and introduce myself.
Right. Introduce myself and make her puke all over the tiles at the train station. I would never have that sort of courage. Not in a million years. Not even when pigs fly.
Minutes later, she got off at Subang (would somebody please tell me, how on earth does Subang get such unearthly amount of beautiful girls?!) I was more nervous now than before because she's gotten off the train and I couldn't see her for the last time as she walks towards the gate because the windows weren't girl-friendly. And all I know is that she's medium built. Stands a little taller than Aliya or Opie. And most importantly, has a sense of humor. Because the last couple of girls that I got to know, had none. Or a particularly flame-retardant one at that.
I wondered, during the rest of the journey home about what it would be like knowing a girl like that. Warm smile. Soft features. White baju kurung. I wondered about what her favorite movies are. Her favorite records, or books that she's read and found interesting. The things that I could learn from her. Your garden variety, schizophrenic, little things like that that made her mine.
And so tonight, I'll be going to bed thanking God for His endless imagination. After that, maybe I'll doze off wondering if I see her again tomorrow.
lucky lady...
:(
pigi daaa..u have ur reza and the bart. heheh. guys like me..we dont get anything. even monkeys avoid us. it's sad.
bastard? cilaka lu. lu cilok wa, wa cilok lu balik. kahkahkah.