The venue: Fish and Co at Wheelock Place. The occasion: A simple dinner, a get-together, if you like. The atmosphere: like the good old days, where conversations, laughter, bad jokes, silly remarks and harmless jibes flow freely.
There were 8 of us, a number i reckon neither too big nor too small, comfortable enough to allow everyone to interact with one another for the entire evening. Five years have gone by - knowingly and unknowingly - but some things remain the same, I realise. Like the yellow-tee that Jul wore. Or the dimpled smile of t*.
But there are other less discernible but surely more salient matters that remain unchanged despite the passage of time: our personalities. This is the one thing that makes us know what to expect of each other, what to anticipate of our meeting and how to riposte that smart jibe spewing out of someone's mouth every so often (of course sometimes you just roll your eyes or laugh mockingly, or you go 'yah..yah..'). Maybe if it were only 3 or 4 of us, there might be some awkard moments; but in general, the presence of a few outspoken and loquacious people ensures that there is seldom a minute that goes by without something being talked about.
Marc is still that rotund, if a little unkempt, guy who speaks coarsely, says a lot of nonsense and has a mind full of lascivious thoughts. Perhaps he never got round to imbibing the finer points of social propriety that limit acceptable behaviour between Man and Woman, what with his sometimes indecent questions or proposals that offend. But by and large, he means no disrespect. If he irritates, i daresay he's behaving in an immature manner that is so his nature. The way to go is to beat him at his own game. Which is not too difficult since most of us are at any time more than ready to join forces and turn the tables on him. Unless of course he is making fun of, well, jw.
jw's the other peculiar guy who hasn't changed much. He is still single-mindedly devoted to his other half who wasn't with us that night. Apart from the fact that he is now even wealthier than he was before, his very-short-haircut, his persistent questions and his deep-seated insistence on not wanting to feel indebted to anyone - these are the traits that very much still inform our opinion of him. There is, however, a persistent depressing side of his outlook which stems from various inhibitions that are self-imposed. As far as I believe, since the day he won the heart of his life-partner, he has gained a new-found confidence that mitigates his depressing outlook of life and friendships. On a different note, he is doubtless the one amongst us who has a certain and promising path ahead of him.
You never quite know when you have made the transition into yet another stage in life, one which is at least quite different from the previous stage to be worthy of being regarded a new phase. But there are significant details or momentous changes in life that hint at or blatantly signal the passing of years and coming of age. And it need not be graduation or landing that first job. Whenever i speak to and interact with long-time friends I am always reminded of how far we have come since our school days. Once impecunious schoolgoers whose duty is just attending school everyday, doing homework and enjoying an occasional gathering with one or two groups of close friends, most of us have unavoidably metamorphosed into preoccupied individuals who now command financial independence. Where we used to dig into our thin wallets to make sure we have enough to pay for our meals, now there are enough credit cards to compete for payment - because there is no cash to spare. Where anxious dads or mums would upon the call of their child drive out to pick them up from anywhere, now almost everyone has attained their driving licence, while some drive their own cars and others plan to buy their own.
It's not feelings of envy or maudlin sentimentality that underlie these remarks. Usually, the most trivial details surrounding our lives cannot but come to my attention or creep into my consciousness. They are a fact and when they come to my attention, I just ponder over their (in)signficance. At some point of time, they simply stand out from the generality of things and force you to take note of them. Inevitably, since they usually constitute connections between certain aspects of our past and the present, there is an element of nostalgia to whatever ensuing thoughts produced.
That evening, we had an ad hoc celebration for jw and t*, one whose birthday was the following day while the other's had just passed. At NYDC, we sang a birthday song that came on rather spontaneously. It's been a long time since we've sang birthday songs in public for a friend, and at that moment we seem to have returned to our school days.
As i recall this now, i remember, fondly, that singing birthday songs was a ritual put to good use during our school days - they delay the tutor from starting the lesson.
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