Tangled Dreams

CHAPTER 8: YOUR STORY, MY STORY (Part 1) | Faez Ibrahim

The weather today was sunny compared to the dark, cloudy skies that had persisted since last week. The weather forecast application recommended by the Apple website had proven useful. The risk in conducting the interview at the Southbank Book Market had been well worth it. The sun shone brightly behind white clouds, inviting people to hang out along the embankment beside the wide river. Some were enjoying sandwiches on the long benches. Others were gazing across the river. There were also teenagers on skateboards and bicycles. The mood was bright and full of joy.

Like them, I also enjoyed the bright, cheery day. I sat along the embankment under the bridge facing the signboard that said "Southbank Book Market" where there were many stalls selling all sorts of books. This was my favourite spot. Even though I had been to this book market countless times, I always found something interesting: Classic Sherlock Holmes story books, the first edition of Oxford Dictionary and many others. I could spend hours here, like an excited little boy visiting a chocolate factory.

If the person to be interviewed was a writer, I would surely bring them here because the background was ideal. However, the personality of the day was an artist named Syaiddah Mahmood. According to her, Southbank was the focus of her work this week, so it was best to interview her here. I had agreed with her suggestion because the interview article had long since been put on hold. My editor wanted to publish it as the main article in the personalities section of the weekend edition and he stressed that I should submit the article to him within the next two days. The success of Syaiddah Mahmood in being commissioned to work on the "City of London" project clearly showcased the talent of Malaysians – a story that would surely be an inspiration to all our readers.

I looked at my watch. It was exactly 10:00 am. Where was that artist? Why did Malaysians always take their time and were not punctual? It could not be due to traffic jams in London, as they were uncommon. I sighed quietly. Suddenly, a shadow appeared in front of me.

"Faez Ibrahim?"

I looked up. Syaiddah grinned at me. Although we had never met before, I recognised her from the research I had done for this article. But how did she recognize me?

"Not even a second late." She winked as she plonked herself down near me. Without looking at her, I just knew she was still grinning away.

"I didn't say anything," I told her. She threw a smile with a knowing look at me. Got you this time! This artist had pretty good observational skills. I suspected that she must have been around the area for quite a while, just waiting for the time she could appear on the dot.

"Any questions you have, just fire away." Syaiddah took out her iPad from her bag. I frowned.

"We could do this interview at that café. The coffee there is good," I suggested, pointing to the café behind us. I had started to get up, but she did not move. She shook her head.

"I want to finish this drawing. I'll take your questions as I draw – that's my plan for today," she announced cockily. What?! Is she conducting this interview or me? I told myself to calm down. Young people nowadays always speak before they think. Faez, Faez, you can handle this situation.

I sat down again. I managed to get a quick glance at her iPad screen. It was a drawing of the Southbank that was calming and stunning with many shades of blue brightening up the river scene in front of us. This young woman was quite talented. Focus on the story, Faez, don't let her get to you, focus on her ability. I took out my iPhone, pressed the "record" button, and started the interview with Syaiddah Mahmood.

Syaiddah spoke about her first drawing to the latest "City of London" project, while her hand was busy drawing on the iPad she held. She was very excited when she described her work. She had completed various projects, including painting a portrait of the Prime Minister of Malaysia and his family. Her main inspiration: people.

"What advice do you have for people aspiring to be artists?" I asked as the final question for the interview. I could not wait to get back to my computer to start typing the story. Talking to this artist had set in motion the wheels of inspiration in my mind.

"Dreams just remain dreams unless we go all out to get them. If you've already succeeded, don't just stop there. Go after new dreams so that you can get all you can out of life," she answered, full of conviction and a smug smile on her face.

"I hope I'm not interrupting, but the apam balik is starting to go soggy," a man's voice cut in from behind us. He passed some apam balik to Syaiddah. A brown paper bag was handed to me, so I looked inside. It contained hot apam balik with a mouth-watering aroma. It must have been from the Malaysian Pancake stall located not far away. I had interviewed the stall owner previously, a Malaysian who was going from success to success in London through the sale of his delicious apam balik.

"This is my friend Adam," Syaiddah introduced the man to me. I shook his hand and thanked him for buying me the apam balik. I had actually been thinking of buying some to take home after the interview. But now, I was enjoying the apam balik with both of them and telling them the story about the stall owner.

"No wonder Malaysians who live in London aren't homesick... Malaysian food can be found here. And it's tasty too!" exclaimed Syaiddah. She then turned to look at me, "Faez, were you born in London or Malaysia? Why did you choose to base yourself in London?"