Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Benazir Bhutto & the Anniversary
28th December 2007 was the day Benazir Bhutto was assasinated.
The day marked the anniversary of her death, as well as a memorable day in my life.
I remember that day as one of much excitement and activity.
V and I were much enjoying our new found swinging bachelorette status. We were heading back to Singapore after a short girlish getaway trip to Bintan Island.
The night before, we met the Norwegians there and a bartender named Hitler.
****
On Christmas Eve, V and I danced the night away.
She had a wild and dirty shag with Oscar.
She also met the German that night. He started texting her later for a date.
Why not? I said. She wasn't too sure about dating a white guy.
****
The Old Boy awaited us at the ferry terminal to pick us up.
We had our first date that night.
And then more as the night delved deeper.
Oh that delirious night that compounded to the fraility of my adrenaline junkie train wreck nerves.
It has been exactly three years from that fateful day.
It almost seemed like yesterday, except I just did a reality check and came to feel me now. P's life now.
V is married to the German and happily pregnant with a Eurasian baby due in May.
Just the other day, the Norwegian ("the whitest white guy" I had called him for his unreceptive "non-Asian" tastebuds) whom I haven't seen online in the longest popped out suddenly and wished me a hearty Merry Christmas, like he too rememebered his fun days in Paradise Singapore that didn't seem that long ago.
28th December 2007 was the day Benazir Bhutto was assasinated.
The day marked the anniversary of her death, as well as a memorable day in my life.
I remember that day as one of much excitement and activity.
V and I were much enjoying our new found swinging bachelorette status. We were heading back to Singapore after a short girlish getaway trip to Bintan Island.
The night before, we met the Norwegians there and a bartender named Hitler.
****
On Christmas Eve, V and I danced the night away.
She had a wild and dirty shag with Oscar.
She also met the German that night. He started texting her later for a date.
Why not? I said. She wasn't too sure about dating a white guy.
****
The Old Boy awaited us at the ferry terminal to pick us up.
We had our first date that night.
And then more as the night delved deeper.
Oh that delirious night that compounded to the fraility of my adrenaline junkie train wreck nerves.
It has been exactly three years from that fateful day.
It almost seemed like yesterday, except I just did a reality check and came to feel me now. P's life now.
V is married to the German and happily pregnant with a Eurasian baby due in May.
Just the other day, the Norwegian ("the whitest white guy" I had called him for his unreceptive "non-Asian" tastebuds) whom I haven't seen online in the longest popped out suddenly and wished me a hearty Merry Christmas, like he too rememebered his fun days in Paradise Singapore that didn't seem that long ago.
