It is Time

Coffee. I love it. From the aroma to the bitter taste, it makes me feel like a true blue adult. I do not experience the caffeine high that normal society relates coffee to(damn my flawed genetics) but I love it all the same.

Assuming you have read my last entry dear reader, Alisya and I were to meet for a little caffeinated get together. What I have omitted was that I have acquired her mobile number when we got off the bus. I gave her a call later in the evening and set up the details. Saturday afternoon at the Coffee Good Golly Miss Golly cafe. The place was highly recommended by Canada and as he would put it, a quaint place with a modern touch, and silence. No rowdy music to distract the ears and not too many people that would distract the eyes.

Where are my manners? Let me introduce you to Canada(no, not the country). This is a man I first met during my university days. He was not actually named after the country but the nickname was actually given(accidentally) by yours truly. How did he get the name you ask? I would not indulge you with the details for now. I would however describe him briefly for your imagination. He is a hairy bloke, tall for a Malay man with prominent Arabic features. Some would call him the Maher Zain of Malaysia but I would say otherwise. It might make you wonder why he is not called 'Oman' or 'Turkey' but like I have told you, that story is for another time. A good friend since my university days and an even closer friend as he is a colleague of mine now. He is my go-to guy for motivation and advice on women.

In my usual manner, I was early for our little meeting. The moment I arrived I scanned the place and found a nice, slightly secluded corner table. I sat down facing the door and glanced at my watch. Fifteen minutes early. I admired the little bits of mismatched furniture and works of art as I waited, half of my thought in the type of drink I would order, the other half wondering how this meeting would turn out.

On the dot at three o'clock that afternoon, Alisya entered. She wore a white long sleeved blouse with intricate laces across the front, light blue jeans and a powder green hijab. Green is my favourite colour. It was either she knew (I highly doubt it) or it was a sign. I accepted the latter.

She immediately saw me and walked towards me. There was something about the way she walked that exudes elegance. It might be her confident posture as she walked or the way that the steps she took looked like she was walking on glass; perhaps a mixture of both. She sat on the opposite side and smiled. At that point, I swear that my heart stopped for a full second. When she smiled, there was a dimple on the side that accentuated her beauty, something I have missed before. I gave back an awkward smile and we exchanged greetings as usual. She said she was going to order a caramel latte and asked what I wanted. I replied that I wanted a cappuccino. "My treat,"she said and quickly got up before I could say anything else. She walked to the counter and I just felt dazed to do anything.

"Hold it together,"I said to myself, looked down and took a long deep breath. That felt better.

When I lifted my head I looked towards a door as person entered. My jaw dropped and my heart stopped once again but I swear this time it was for a full sixty seconds. I could not believe it but there she was...my girlfriend.  

The Little Square Table

Ever since that day, my vision was clearer than usual. I saw Alisya from time to time, during breakfast, just as she was about to go home or even when I was going to the toilet. Well maybe it was just my overactive imagination because I was in the twenty second floor.

In the back of my mind, I know I wanted to see her, to know her better. Hallucinations tend to tell you that believe it or not. I needed a chance. Maybe I could 'accidentally' bump into her while she was going home. She always carried books on the way back. A slight bump on the shoulder, books scattered and me helping her pick them up. Start a little conversation and asking her out for coffee as an apology. No, too High School Musical for me.
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Something else about me dear reader, I consider myself a mastermind. I like to think a little differently from other people. I guess if you grew up with a family like mine (a story for another time), you have to find creative ways to get what you want.
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I did what any mastermind would do; Google. I remembered the book she read during our first encounter and added the words 'books like' in front of the title. Voila! Opened up the first link and before me were some twenty odd book titles. A quick skim through the descriptions and I found a book that has similarities with 'The Book Thief'. A common ground is needed to establish a connection with another person and I found it. A quick stop at a local bookstore the next day and I was holding a brand new 'The FitzOsbornes in Exile'. For the next few days I read and absorbed the details and the feelings conveyed in the book. An interesting read definitely but I stopped halfway. Why, you ask dear reader? Well in everything that we do, there needs to be sincerity in it. I didn't want to read the whole book just yet. There was still part two to the plan that needs to be established but that will be clear to you soon.

A few more days later I took the public transport to work; carefully placing the time around when I met her the first time. A pain definitely but when I think back, it was well worth it. As I waited for the bus, I focused solely on the book. I read and read. Got on the bus and still read up until I reached the lifts and closed the book.

One fine day the chance I waited for has arrived. Alisya arrived just a few minutes before me and I stood beside her. I gave her a friendly greeting whilst holding my book. We had a small chat and she said she had seen me waiting for the bus a few times but I was so engrossed in the book that she did not want to intrude. Exactly what I wanted; her talking about my book. We sat beside each other on the bus and I told her about the book with such enthusiasm that she wanted to have a read too (if I had finished the book, I would have known the ending and that would make my excitement for the book be less sincere thus making me seem less excited). I offered her my copy but in exchange she had to belanja me coffee. She agreed.

Mission accomplished.

Lunch

It has been exactly a year, two months and five days since the first time I met her. Before you think I am someone who is obsessed with dates, let me tell you why I remember. No stop assuming that I am some kind of psycho stalker; it was on her sister's birthday that I met her. A quick look scroll through my desk calender, a bit of backwards counting and voila, the amount of time since the first time my eyes met hers.

Allow me to let you in on a little something about me. I am a punctual man. Well most of the time anyways. Not so during that blazing hot Tuesday morning. The night before it was raining heavily thus leading to an overflowed drain pipe on the road I usually use to get to work. In the end I resorted to use the KTM (train) on that day. True to it's name, Keretapi Tanah Melayu, was very Melayu with it's timing. In other words, late. A full twelve minutes off the supposed arrival time. (Okay, maybe I am a little bit obsessed with numbers). Thanks to it's amoeba like speed and the sporadic stops it took along the way, I was running late. Around thirty minutes off my usual arrival time when I reached my train stop, and it was still a twenty minute walk to the office. I am always an hour early to office to grab a hassle free breakfast.

I opted to take the bus instead as a) the road was clear b) the train was free and c) air-conditioner. In my mind, I would have reached the office earlier and sweat-free so I lined up to get on the bus. Luckily on that day, the bus was less packed than usual (probably due to the weather condition yesterday) and luckier still I got a seat beside the window. Unknown to me then, that faithful day would be my luckiest day of the year as it was the first time I met my future bride.

As I took my seat, I opened my seasoned canvas office bag and took out my earphones. I connected it to my phone and just when I was about to plug them into my ears, a woman tapped my shoulder. "Can I sit here?" she asked in a polite manner. I looked up at the woman who wore a plain black suit, ruffled white top and lilac hijab which adorned her sweet face. I nodded with a slight creepy smile I felt plastered on my face. She sat and without thinking about it, I rolled up my earphones and looked out the window, feeling my face turning slightly pink. The bus started moving.

Halfway through the journey, the bus took a sudden sharp turn and a book fell on my lap. It was a thick book titled "The Book Thief". I picked up the book and looked at the woman with the lilac hijab. She apologised with what seemed to be a thousand ''sorrys'' accompanied by an extremely embarrassed look across her face. I said it was fine and asked about the book. She gave an exceptionally long description of the book which lasted till the bus reached my office building. The whole time I was looking straight at her marginally tired eyes which was dark brown like most typical Malays but somehow seemed shiny. An odd contrast to her slightly darken eye bags but very attractive nonetheless. 

Surprisingly enough, she stood up before me and said she it was her stop. I replied with "This is my stop too, shall we?" and gestured to the door like a gentleman. We walked quietly to the building and to the lifts. She pressed the button on the left side of the lifts whilst I pressed the button on the right. Her lift arrived first and waved me goodbye. Just as the she entered and turned around I asked, "What's your name?"

"Alisya," she said with a foxy smile and the door closed. I waited for a moment and looked at floor number. Ten.

P.S. I lied, it was a year, two months and six days. You should learn to trust people less dear reader.

Alisya

Time passes but it feels faster than before. Not that time could actually go faster or slower, it is just my perception of time that changes. As I look at the semi translucent Ikea clock against the plainly awful off-white colour of my bedroom wall, I can't help but wonder, is this it? Is this finally the end of me going home all by my lonesome self? Me being able to roam around the house with only one foot of cloth that covers my unmentionables? The last of me eating eggs cooked in a rice pot along with a few pieces of frozen bread that has been sitting in the freezer from two weeks before? Well maybe that part isn't that bad.

As you may have presumed by now, I am about to leave my single life. Sure, at the age of twenty-four, some might say that it is the right time to get married albeit a little bit sooner than the average Malaysian. I have a reliable car, a house on the way and a stable job. I might not have savings like the trust fund of a world renowned celebrity's kid but it is enough to cover myself and a significant other for a few months of unemployment, God forbid.

But (there is always a but), little doubts start creeping inside my head. Will she be the same as she is now in ten years time (I know it is impossible for people to not change overtime, but when she changes,is she going to change for the better?) Can she really quit her job (she loves her job) and raise our future children like she said she would? The most important question though, is she really the one for me?

It would be unfair to only view how she would be after marriage. I do have doubts about myself as well. I don't know if I have the dexterity and capability to love someone till the end of my life. I guess four broken relationships tend to do that to a person. I don't know if I could be able to lead someone to Jannah like a good Muslim should. I don't know if I could be a good father to my future children. Who are we kidding? I'd be an awesome dad(...well I hope).

I guess only time will confirm or unbuckle these doubts. Well it is ten o'clock now. I should give my baby a call.