Into The Pyre

Q. Hey, Daryl. How are you feeling?

A. Honestly? You can’t tell?

Q. You know I’m blind to these kind of things.

A. (inhales, exhales) It’s like I’m stuck. It’s like I’m caught in limbo; the world stopped, and I stopped with it; but then the world begins to revolve again and I remain where I was. Everything’s moving so fast now, everything’s changing so quickly. There are other things to prepare for, other issues to face in life. Everyone expects me to get up and go with the flow of things. But I’m stuck. I’m caught in limbo. Right now there’s no fight in me. It’s like I’m paralysed: I’m lying on the bathroom floor, and it is cold and hard; my mind says I should get up, but my body doesn’t know what to do. The only part of me that ever races as fast as the world is this little organ in the side of my chest. There are moments when it beats so quickly it hurts, and the ache is all I can ever think about. All I know is the pain, and the weight that comes with it. I don’t know what to call this organ anymore.

*

Yesterday, Mag and her mom came during the early evening, and we chatted. Sometime after dinner, Izzy and Winston came over and witnessed my family doing the Buddhist prayers. While Izzy bought me milk- and banana-flavoured pocky, Winston purchased three packets of strawberry-flavoured ones. (I had to use a grand total of two in order to finally win over my baby cousin.)

Today was the day I finally cried. As we made a final walk around the coffin, we finally brought my grandma up to see my grandpa, and she suddenly bursts, and I shed a tear. As my two uncles and two cousins placed their hands on the back of the van, I walked beside my mom during the procession, and I cried. As we saw the coffin enter the furnace from the viewing gallery in Mandai Crematorium, all I felt was the knot that refused to be undone.

God knows if I can pick up another mahjong tile, and not recall my grandpa mutely chastising me and my two aunts for playing in the clockwise direction. We swear it was an accident.

yam.

P.S. Tonight’s my father’s 46th birthday. It’s a happy Father’s Day for everyone else.