i've always liked the whole concept of coincidence. two or more random events or circumstances of striking occurrence at just seemingly mere chance. i've come to embrace coincidence as the little Kinder Surprises that life hands out on a regular basis. perhaps to make sense of all the madness that's going on around us. perhaps to give us some form of meaning in our lives. or maybe i'm just a mere mortal thinking too big when coincidence is just Life's idea of a joke reserved for her stand-up routine at some dingy cafe ('And so i let those idiotic star-crossed lovers of Mr. Fate find out that they were siblings way after they like had sex. What? Don't look at me like that. Someone had to do something about that 'star-crossed' bit, no?') after all, coincidence could boil right down to being nothing more than a mere mathematical statistic.

i've always reckoned our small little red dot of a country to be like a constantly replaying indie film of sorts. an indie film about coincidence and the fates, heavily-censored by the Media Development Authority, no less. but still, an indie film talking about how in our densely populated island of 4.5 million, there's bound to be paths crossed and interlinked in ways that you would never have expected. like the Cabin Crew boyfriend whom i went out with for about three to four months. during that period of time his grandmother was admitted into my ward for lower limb infection. she passed away one month later. we broke up another month later. i would like to think that i was there in that period of time of the ex-Cabin Crew boyfriend's life for a reason - his grandmother.

but i'm guessing it probably nothing more than mere coincidence. and perhaps Life and her flailing attempts at a career in improv.


the hospital is one place that you normally wouldn't expect or want to bump into acquaintances of yore. generally it just means bad news. they could be having loved ones in the hospital for varied reasons; from accidents to cancer. it's not exactly great conversation topics to have after having not met them for such a long time. of course, it could also mean that they've decided to sell their souls to the health-care machine. they could be doctors, nurses, pharmacists, physiotherapists, HR, etc. you wouldn't want that to happen as well because the health-care machines eat you up. they leave you with no life. i'm one fine example. i'm so mentally-drained over the weekends that i would rather blast people with shotguns on my Xbox 360 than go out and blast real gay people with my 'shotgun'.

sadly enough, i've met several people in the course of my career in the hospital so far. like a sarge from my Brunei army days who was only 28 and in the pink of health when he was suddenly stricken with liver disease. i never was that close to him to begin with. but when i met him in the hospital, he was haggard, sallow, awfully jaundiced with tubes sticking out of him. some were draining bile, some were draining blood. mostly, you could see it wasn't helping him that much at all.

i bumped into him a second time when i was transferring a patient to a ward that he was residing in. by charming with one of the more gay-looking nurses there (okay, there was only one gay-looking nurse), i got to peek at his case notes. to summarize, he didn't have long to live. but in the face of death, he seemed rather brave on the surface. he made some really weird requests. he asked for a Quiksilver water bottle that i had with me (i was about to go for break after i transferred the patient to the new ward). he saw my N95 and also asked if he could have the fancy-looking casing that came with the phone. i said i would try my best to see if i had any spares left. i never followed-up from there. he passed away a week later.

well, just two weeks ago i bumped into another acquaintance from my secondary school days. an awfully intelligent and humble chap from my Music 'O' level classes. suffice to say, he was the discipline master's son. which gave him the extra burden of being a model student, to begin with. it's not exactly an easy feat. i mean, my dad teaches at Sunday school and i'm already guilty of six of the seven deadly sins (i'm not that prone to wrath) every sunday. he's a particularly funny chap. i have with me a postcard that he wrote to me during class. the postcard was an advert for a play named The Exodus by The Necessary Stage. the venue was at the Gay World Stadium, Geylang Road. Geylang is a street in Singapore that's famous for wholesome foods and well... not-so-wholesome Hos. don't ask about Gay World Stadium, it's prolly just from a time when 'Gay' really meant 'i'm truly happy'.

nonetheless, this particular chap of mine boxed up with words 'GAY WORLD' in the postcard and wrote: 'GAY WORLD, AT GEYLANG SOMEMORE! EXODUS! BLASPHEMOUS!'. funny people with great morals who can see context. you just gotta love them.

so there i was going for the night shift, rushing to work. i was particularly late because i couldn't decide whether to wear the Ben Sherman or the Benetton. i'm not usually like that. so there i was rushing for the lift when there he was, coming out of the lift. at that moment, i thought to myself: I'm late for work, if he's here, he'll be here for a few more days to visit a loved one. i'll just wave and say hi.' and thus i put my thoughts into action and just waved and said hi. of course, he responded back with the same. and you know what's the irony and coincidence?

the next day, i got a message from a friend saying that his mother had passed away. seven years of having not met in such a long time and all i could think of was to say hi and go away. and thus in times like these, i can't help but take up my quill and start writing bad poetry.

'tis an acquaintance of my youth
aye, in a corridor of life and death
paths intertwined for a moment brief
a faint proof of acquaintanceship didst crack upon our lips
and paths cross'd nary to meet again
never did i see
the grief beneath that facade of crack'd lips

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