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.