Tangled Dreams

CHAPTER 8: YOUR STORY, MY STORY (Part 4) | Faez Ibrahim

I placed the birthday present for my mother, a DiVi Cam camcorder, in the bag very carefully. It was the latest model, which should thrill my mother as she loved recording videos. A memory card was also included. Everything was complete. Satisfied with this decision, I leaned back against the chair for a quick rest.

I was just about to drift off to sleep when a loud voice assaulted my ears. I listened attentively to the announcement. The flight to Malaysia had been delayed for 30 minutes. I sighed. My head felt heavy. Perhaps it was because it was way past my usual bedtime. The clock indicated it was 1:00 am. I massaged my forehead to ease the tension I felt.

The crowd in the departure hall began to build up as more people came in. There were no empty seats left. Yet those who had put their bags on seats did not move their belongings to allow others to sit down. I felt sorry for an elderly woman who stood beside a child, perhaps her grandchild. Although I still felt incessant pain in my head, I stood up and offered her my seat. The elderly lady smiled and thanked me profusely. I picked up my bag off the floor and walked off.

As I passed the VIP lounge, I caught sight of a well-known face: Datuk Wong Hong Seng. He was with his daughter, Eunice. Both father and daughter were sitting on a sofa in good spirits, apparently sharing a joke. Should I have dropped by to say hello? If my parents had been there, I was certain they would have done so. They continuously encouraged me to strike up conversations with people in order to build up friendships with them. According to my parents, establishing personal ties was incredibly important for a journalist's career. The more people we knew, the more exclusive news scoops we would be likely to get. I had interviewed Datuk Wong just a year ago. We were well-acquainted with one another.

Before I could knock on the door, an announcement came through on the public address system. The flight to Malaysia was ready for departure. All passengers were requested to go to the departure gate. Datuk Wong and his daughter were already on their feet. It appeared that they were on the same flight. I decided not to disturb them. They would probably board the aircraft first because they were VIP passengers. I had better join the queue and wait my turn to board the aircraft, so that I would not end up right at the back.

At the entrance, I noticed a cheerful and good-looking flight steward greeting passengers who boarded the aircraft. I had seen him before. Hmm, from where? I could not seem to recall.

"Faez. Hi! We meet again," greeted the flight steward. I forced a smile and nodded politely in response, even as my mind worked fast – who was this fellow?

"It's good to see you again. Athirah and I would like to invite you to our wedding reception. You will be able to attend, right?" he continued. Ah! The young man who was with Athirah Mansor that day. I was not sure what their relationship was when we met the first time. Still, I could sense that the young man was very concerned about Athirah. That was why I allowed him to sit in on the interview. Especially when Athirah looked rather panicky and anxious. Apparently, love had blossomed and led them to tie the knot.

Khalid promised that he would send me a wedding invitation. I congratulated him. Following that, I proceeded to my seat located at the end of the aircraft. My seat was in the middle of a group of three seats. The occupants of the seats to my left and right were nowhere to be seen. I stowed my bag under the passenger seat and then sat down comfortably.

A few minutes went by. All the passengers had taken their seats. The seats beside me were still empty. Excellent. I should be able to stretch out and sit comfortably without worrying about my elbows banging into somebody else's elbows.

"Here's your seat," said Khalid as he directed a passenger to the seat beside me. I sighed silently. There was a passenger after all. I heard footsteps approaching. Kareena Chopra appeared in front of us. What a small world.

"Hi Kareena," I smiled as I greeted her. She looked calm suddenly. A little smile appeared on her face. Khalid helped her to stow her bags in the overhead compartment. Kareena then took her seat and put on the seatbelt.

"Going back for a holiday?" I asked casually. Actually, I was very curious about her decision regarding the Oxford University offer. Was she going to accept the offer or return home to serve the nation? That was the question.

"Just visiting my family. I will be back here next week," she answered simply. It looked like she had accepted the offer. What was the motivation behind her decision? Seeing that I had not made any comment, she explained, "I'm happy and at ease here. Even if there hadn't been an offer, I think I wouldn't return to Malaysia because this is where I found myself and came to know me better."

In fact, she looked calm and satisfied with her decision. I still remembered our interview at the Wellcome Collection. Kareena had answered every one of my questions like a robot. Every response appeared scripted and rehearsed. There was neither emotion nor excitement in her voice. Instead, everything that she shared was information provided word for word by her mother. I felt that the interview had been a waste of time because I had gained no new insights from her. There was only one climax to her story – her decision regarding the Oxford University offer. Meeting her this time, however, I sensed that she was more at ease and relaxed. It was clear that she had found her direction in life.

After the aircraft had lifted into the skies, I unbuckled the seatbelt and moved to the window seat beside me. The seat between Kareena and I was left unoccupied so that we could both sit more comfortably throughout the entire flight. I stretched out my legs with more peace of mind.

I took out the laptop computer from my bag and placed it on the small fold-down table in front of me. This chance meeting with Kareena had given me new inspiration to write. However, the article about her had already been published. I decided to write something different. My fingers danced feverishly across the keyboard, typing every word that sprang forth from deep within me.

Not long after, I finished writing. I reread the piece of work with a sense of satisfaction. I turned off the laptop and placed it back in the bag. Fatigue suddenly engulfed my whole body. I looked at my watch. It was 4:00 am London time. No wonder I felt so drowsy.

As I stood up to go to the lavatory, I felt a slight bout of dizziness coming on. It must have been due to looking at the laptop screen for some time on the aircraft. I sat down again and massaged my head to ease the pain. I closed my eyes and leaned back. I had to rest for a while.