the day is short

"So what are you working as now?"

Always the first question between every one at the dinner table, which is annoyingly long (3 big wooden tables joined up), and surrounded by a few coconut trees on the Siloso Beach. It's impossible to hear what the other side of the table is talking about. Sudden burst of giggles makes one on the other side insecure. But everyone has better hair now.

An industry relations administrator.
A Motorola technician.
Finance assistant
A marketing executive
One who works offshore on the gas/oil industrial park
A 2nd Sergeant at an infantry battalion
"Navy"
and a HSBC finance and insurance advisor (!)

and usually followed by a moment of awkward silence before one makes the initiative of asking 'oh so where is it?' Nobody is in the media industry, no curiosity about it either.

And then it all came back. Memories of the person. Good and bad.

We discussed about the potential schizophrenic and checked with every person to see who was the last to have seen him during all these years.The former national ping-pong player stopped playing. The few who didn't turn up, we wondered whether they are still alive or dead.

We exchanged stories about teachers in the past. Like how Barry drew a naked caricature of the English relief who was aloof and mean. The Principle of Accounts teacher who gave some entertaining sex education in between topics. Or the Maths teacher who stutters, especially when he's angry. We reminisce the ghostly encounters in our Anglican school, about their brief but scary experience with the ouija board and how the pastor intervenes and saved them all.

The mother of two came, and shared how she endured 15 hours of labor pain for the first child and later decided to opt for surgery for the second one. She looked absolutely radiant, if not definitely more matured and wiser.

I turned to 'was seriously plain' jane, who pouted her lips and posed in a irritatingly cute way with the little wine bottle she was holding, as her pictures were taken. She's definitely changed for the better, i thought to myself while glancing at her low V-neck top matching to her dyed blonde hair, and exposing a flattering cleavage. But she still speaks like a getai singer.

On my right-hand side, the HSBC insurance advisor was busy saving our numbers into his handphone from the class list. I heard he now earns full-commission based. Dangerous.

Some people looked irritatingly and uncannily the same as before, like as if time never played a part.

In general, it was a pleasant reunion, the food being barely mediocre but the observations on their faces are really surreal. Timeless.

Superimposed vacations.
The last yearbook picture in 2004.
Also one of the biggest mistakes ever.

The guy who designed this didn't show up, if not I would have laughed really loud.