Sunday, July 18, 2010

Doppelganger.

I was waiting for some form of transport to get me home. I thought heck, if it takes a minute longer, I'm gonna walk home. Looking round, a foreigner caught my attention. Well, a girl around my age to be precise. Yet it wasn't those slightly short skirt, nor the fact that heck, she was pretty good looking, but just the fact that looking at her, was as if looking into a mirror.

It was this awkward two minutes or so when I, standing and she, walking just stared at each other. It was somewhat surreal, and surely one of the most engaging two minutes of my life. What I saw in her, it scared me, it's just my nightmares manifesting itself in the form of a girl.

The same dissatisfied frown with curved eyebrows to match it and going lower, there... were these eyes that just cried out in agony, this unspeakable myriad of confusion, not knowing whether it's hatred or sadness that she was supposed to feel, the strength that she had to stop it all from undergoing a massive eruption into oblivion... Her lips pursed, stagnant, there was no giveaway, no hint of any emotion, her face was like a layer of ice over the turbulent waters of a raging river...

I... was taken aback. To hell with home, if I could freeze time, that would be the exact moment I'd do it. She came closer and closer, my desire of anonymity began to waver, I wanted to know her, I wanted to jump into that turbulent water, I wanted to drown in it, I want it flooding my lungs, suffocating me, I wanted to asphyxiate knowing that I've at least taken a dive, at least I've done something... Closer and closer, ten steps, now eight, six, five...

Until I suddenly came to a realisation that she was inches away from me... I should have looked away, but for once, my eyes refused, my efforts were futile. She was also looking straight at me, the world was silent for once, it was only us, only the two of us, the only two sane humans staring at each other surrounded by a corrupt and insane world.

Then she, in a somewhat childish way snapped back to reality, and took a step back and looked left and then right, then back to me, and in one of the most anti-climactic moments of my life, she walked away. Just like that. No conversation, not even the slightest sound, she left. I turned to at least refresh my memory of her face, one that in two minutes, gave such an impact to my entire being but all I see was the black skirt, and a backpack that she was lugging around. In the movies, this would be the scene where she makes a sudden turn around and still unsure, I'd walk to her and a heart-warming conversation would take place.

She continued walking in the opposite direction, and funnily, I wanted to follow but my legs refused, it told me that some things are better left alone, better not tampered with. It's as if that very moment had been converted into a painting, into a masterpiece with a flaw that everybody notices. I wanted to correct that flaw but somehow I knew that if I did that, it'd no longer be a masterpiece, it would be just another perfect work of art, just another painting. Just another normality in life. So I refrain, closing my eyes and searing the two minute memory into the back of my head.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Now this is some good epic writing right here,sincerely.

Zufar Ismail Zeid said...

It might interest you that its a true story. Any favourite parts?

Anonymous said...

Definitely this:

'She came closer and closer, my desire of anonymity began to waver, I wanted to know her, I wanted to jump into that turbulent water, I wanted to drown in it, I want it flooding my lungs, suffocating me, I wanted to asphyxiate knowing that I've at least taken a dive, at least I've done something.'

Nice use of descriptive metaphors and the timing of the whole piece was good - a subtle beginning, climatic approach and an ebbing end.

Zufar Ismail Zeid said...

Hahaha, knew it... But fuck man, that was one hell of a day... Damn woman...

anwar azhari said...

ur damn lucky.