Melancholia : a feeling of deep sadness; melancholy.
A memoria of a former AR of Bas Suradet.
See the beautiful and passionate life of Bas Suradet through the eyes of a stranger.
~ Sitting next to the window of my suburban-type home in the United S...
The telephone call came one night. I was shaken from a deep sleep. I picked my glasses to check the caller ID and found it was from Bas. I quickly took the call.
"Hello Bas, what's up?" I asked, pushing my hair out of my face.
"P'Ji, can you do me a favor?" Of course I would do anything for you, my dear boy.
"Yeah, what is it?" I said to the phone walking to my kitchen.
"Can you get me a pack of beer and a pack of cigarettes? I ran out. I don't know who else to ask. I'm sorry for troubling you." He mumbled desperately. How much did he drink and smoke to run out his stash? I knew he had a lot in his condo.
This was a bad idea. Buying alcohol for him was a very bad idea. But I couldn't refuse. Besides I could keep an eye on him if I'm there at his place. Also, I was afraid he might go out himself if I refused.
"Be there in fifteen."
I stopped my shitty scooter at his parking garage and climbed the steps, hauling the heavy pack with me.
He opened the door, swaying on the spot. I looked around the madness that was his living room. Beer cans everywhere, discarded food cartons and dirty clothes scattered every surface of the room. It smelled strongly of cigarettes.
I've never seen him this chaotic. He's not the neatest person in the world but he was a considerably organized person. And this was a total mess.
"Thank you P'Ji." He took the pack of cigarettes from my hand. I placed the pack of beer cans on the coffee table and looked around. I'm not a preachy person. I don't think I'm righteous enough to preach and judge others but I couldn't help the worry in my eyes.
"Please don't look at me like that P, I feel guilty already for getting you involved in my mess." He slumped down on the sofa.
"Can I open your windows? The smell of smoke will ruin everything inside the room." I asked, ignoring his words. He nodded closing his eyes.
I blasted open all the windows and draperies. Switched off the AC and on the fan. After few minutes, it became bearable.
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"I gave him the ultimatum." He mumbled. "I told him I never wanted to see him again." He broke the cover and took out a beer from the new pack. "So I'm flushing him out of my system." His hands shook when he lit a cigarette. "Please don't stop me P." he blew smoke up to the ceiling. Humming to the punk rock music playing lightly on the radio.
I sat in the love seat in front of him and watched him drowning in sorrow.
"Phone is ringing." I informed him when he ignored two calls already, and the third one started vibrating.
"I know." He sprawled on the sofa ungracefully. "I don't want to talk to him anymore. I'm done." He laughed without humor. I eyed the phone again. It's been vibrating non-stop.
