Outward and beyond
Satisfying a curiousity by Ali Imran K.
Satisfying a curiousity by Ali Imran K.
He looked at me and said “You look Japanese”. It wasn’t the first time somebody had ever said that to me. The security guard at Padang airport, upon inspection of my passport, loudly exclaimed “Saya piker orang Jepang!” (I thought you were Japanese!), while pointing at my picture to his colleague who was manning the baggage x-rays, looking at my face and then back at my picture, both clearly amused. “You should milk it. Go learn Japanese or something” Chad further said. He and I were sat on the beach, overlooking the ocean as I was trying my hardest to concentrate on Kesey’s “One flew over the cuckoo’s nest”. It was late afternoon.
I had met Chad a couple of months ago when I was at crossroads within my life. It was almost as if he appeared out of nowhere and although our friendship didn’t start until much later, (a lot due to my own hesitation), he turned out to be quite the companion. He didn’t seem to me, at first, as somebody I would have that much in common with, particularly on how unplanned his whole life is. Yet for some unexplained reason, he was very happy, despite having so little. It showed on his face- that calm, serene expression you occasionally see on holy men and I thought it was so crazy that somebody was able to feel that way almost all the time. I thought it was a fallacy, an urban legend a myth like the unicorn! Well evidently, it exists. “Maybe you should go to Japan and see if they can spot you out!” he said, like it was an epiphany, eyes beaming and a grin as big as his face. I looked at him, smiled and shrugged my shoulders and said “I don’t know, we’ll see”. He stood up as his long, dark, curly hair fell on his tanned back. “The problem with you man, is you’re just too scared” he retorted. I resented that. I am, by default, a little defensive when it comes to criticism. I am even defensive about being defensive. “I’m not like you okay. I can’t just up and leave. I have a lot of things to think about” I answered back. We fell silent for a while. I heard myself in that instant and felt really stupid. The sun was still hot. “You’re a lot like me buddy, you just don’t know it” he finally said.
That was Chad. He constantly made me question myself-almost like I was responsible for his well-being, like I had wronged him in some way for not giving myself enough credit.
It was just the two of us on the beach that day. The crescent shaped sand bank pointed to a tiny island on its north-side, which you can walk to when the tide was low. The rocky hill on that island was where some of the local boys perch themselves in season, waiting and praying for swell. You could see as far out into any direction from up there. Chad said that when the wind was just right, somewhere near sunset, you can hear the hill sing. “I think the choir’s about to begin” he said, ushering me to the island. The sun was low now.
“Do you have any childhood dreams Ali? Hopes? Aspirations?” he asked me as we waddled through the glassy water.
“I have a few” I squinted at him, shielding my eyes from the sunlight, “But I’m not sure why I haven’t done it yet” shaking my head and the question off.
We started climbing up a path the locals had cleared up. I thought about how long ago was it that they discovered this place and how very little has changed since then. What did they go up there for? Most of the time, I only saw Chad’s very cracked heel ahead of me-he was moving fast. So eager to get up there like it was his first time and not mine. The sun wasn’t hot anymore and when we got to the top, it burnt the sky a magnificent orange, a smudge of red right above us, like God had rubbed it with His thumb against a canvas and you can faintly make out the moon and the stars. We stood at the edge of the hill, facing the ocean, feeling the breeze in our faces.
“Maybe it’s time” Chad said, both our gazes still out into the ocean. I saw my past in placards in that instant, shuffling fast like records in a jukebox. I wanted it to stop at a point where I thought my life made sense, but it kept on going and going and going.
“Maybe, you’re right” I said, half surrendering, half realizing.
And then it sang. The hill sang. Chad smiled from ear to ear and hooted into the wind. So happy was this man to be alive. “It’s a lucky omen amigo!” he said to me as he raised both hands in a kind of victory dance. I laughed and felt his infectious joy. “You crazy nutter”
This will be my last and final column for August Man. Thank you to anyone who has ever paid attention to what I had to say. If God willing, we shall meet again in the future.
I had met Chad a couple of months ago when I was at crossroads within my life. It was almost as if he appeared out of nowhere and although our friendship didn’t start until much later, (a lot due to my own hesitation), he turned out to be quite the companion. He didn’t seem to me, at first, as somebody I would have that much in common with, particularly on how unplanned his whole life is. Yet for some unexplained reason, he was very happy, despite having so little. It showed on his face- that calm, serene expression you occasionally see on holy men and I thought it was so crazy that somebody was able to feel that way almost all the time. I thought it was a fallacy, an urban legend a myth like the unicorn! Well evidently, it exists. “Maybe you should go to Japan and see if they can spot you out!” he said, like it was an epiphany, eyes beaming and a grin as big as his face. I looked at him, smiled and shrugged my shoulders and said “I don’t know, we’ll see”. He stood up as his long, dark, curly hair fell on his tanned back. “The problem with you man, is you’re just too scared” he retorted. I resented that. I am, by default, a little defensive when it comes to criticism. I am even defensive about being defensive. “I’m not like you okay. I can’t just up and leave. I have a lot of things to think about” I answered back. We fell silent for a while. I heard myself in that instant and felt really stupid. The sun was still hot. “You’re a lot like me buddy, you just don’t know it” he finally said.
That was Chad. He constantly made me question myself-almost like I was responsible for his well-being, like I had wronged him in some way for not giving myself enough credit.
It was just the two of us on the beach that day. The crescent shaped sand bank pointed to a tiny island on its north-side, which you can walk to when the tide was low. The rocky hill on that island was where some of the local boys perch themselves in season, waiting and praying for swell. You could see as far out into any direction from up there. Chad said that when the wind was just right, somewhere near sunset, you can hear the hill sing. “I think the choir’s about to begin” he said, ushering me to the island. The sun was low now.
“Do you have any childhood dreams Ali? Hopes? Aspirations?” he asked me as we waddled through the glassy water.
“I have a few” I squinted at him, shielding my eyes from the sunlight, “But I’m not sure why I haven’t done it yet” shaking my head and the question off.
We started climbing up a path the locals had cleared up. I thought about how long ago was it that they discovered this place and how very little has changed since then. What did they go up there for? Most of the time, I only saw Chad’s very cracked heel ahead of me-he was moving fast. So eager to get up there like it was his first time and not mine. The sun wasn’t hot anymore and when we got to the top, it burnt the sky a magnificent orange, a smudge of red right above us, like God had rubbed it with His thumb against a canvas and you can faintly make out the moon and the stars. We stood at the edge of the hill, facing the ocean, feeling the breeze in our faces.
“Maybe it’s time” Chad said, both our gazes still out into the ocean. I saw my past in placards in that instant, shuffling fast like records in a jukebox. I wanted it to stop at a point where I thought my life made sense, but it kept on going and going and going.
“Maybe, you’re right” I said, half surrendering, half realizing.
And then it sang. The hill sang. Chad smiled from ear to ear and hooted into the wind. So happy was this man to be alive. “It’s a lucky omen amigo!” he said to me as he raised both hands in a kind of victory dance. I laughed and felt his infectious joy. “You crazy nutter”
This will be my last and final column for August Man. Thank you to anyone who has ever paid attention to what I had to say. If God willing, we shall meet again in the future.
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