About 23 years ago, during the silent night, at the maternity ward at Hospital Pantai, something magical happened. A baby was born into this world. That baby was me…haha!!
It is 2.01 am, Tuesday, 25th of January 2005. Although not technically but officially I am 23 years old. I am currently jobless, not in a serious relationship and still living with my parents. My my, isn’t that interesting? But then again, I have a Bachelor’s degree, an amicable social life and I drink ridiculous RM10 ice-blended coffee on a regular basis. So all in all I am not really a complete failure. It’s just a minor blip. And coincidentally it happened on my birthday. Coincidentally too, it falls on Thaipusam. Yes yes, you can all see how all the people worships me at Batu Caves (which happens to be only a 10-minute drive from my residence).
So, what is being 23 all about? Well, about a year ago, I had a berbuka puasa get together with a bunch of friends at Chili’s. Among them was a certain Regina Hayati. Now, she’s was born a year earlier than me which made her already 23 at that time. So, there she was, along with her closest friends, were excitedly talking about a vacation among themselves and there mentions of Japan, Europe and maybe even Australia if I was not mistaken. Beady eyed, I was seated across the table from them and I could not help but feel quite intimidated if not perplexed by the whole agenda unraveling. At that time, I thought to myself, when I reach 23, will I be talking about trips to Europe with my closest colleagues? Because back then I even had to put aside a significant amount of money just to make the trip back to UTP every once and again. The answer to that question is a resolute NO. I couldn’t even afford a decent haircut at Jantzen on my own let alone a plane ticket out of the country.
So, where does that leaves us? Not much. Last year I celebrated with my UTP friends at Moven’s Peak. It was just a fair occasion because the food wasn’t that great. The Char Kuey Teow at SS3 tasted better. But my best ever birthday celebrations was on my 20th when on the dawn of my birthday, I head out with 2 of my mates to the cool and breezy beach of Teluk Nipah on Pulau Pangkor. I sat on the bench at the seaside with my toes in the sand and watching fishermen brought out their boats towards the open sea while the sun began to rise. And at that moment, I was happy.
My 21st was equally impressive. I was atop of Penang Hill. But there was no quiet moment this around. I was sweating because of all the running and fooling around we had and acting like a bunch of 15-year-olds. But it’s still fun.
Oh those were the days. For this year, it will be just a small family occasion. No hustle or bustle. Unless, of course, somebody wants to surprise me with a week long getaway to Venice then I would most gladly oblige.
Maybe next year. You know, when I’m 24 and making money would I make a decent celebration. The usuals, raunchy party, huge cake and strippers on the stage with their tongues sticking out of their mouths. Haha..I’d wish! Nah, it would probably go along a weekend getaway by the beach. Or maybe on an island. With lots of topless mat salehs sunbathing. Haha~
No no, seriously….they have to be Latinos preferably and around my age so I could snog one. Haha~
Haih…what 23 actually means is more responsibility. It’s quite a bummer because I never grew tired of being a kid. Life was so free back then. But the remote control of time doesn’t have a rewind button. It’s always on continuous Play. Well, just like they all say, life goes on. Ruthless world, here I come…
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