The Dancing of Wu Li Masters

Almost two Saturdays ago I was talking to some writers at the S.H. Alattas’s daughter garden wedding reception after a feast of sayur nangka and sambal tumis udang (among other things) when I noticed a young man on a wheelchair moving among the guests. I immediately excused myself and walked towards him, “Excuse me, brother, may I know your name if you don’t mind.”
He seemed taken aback by my sudden appearance but nevertheless tried to force a bewildered smile. “Im Moeha,” came the reply.
I knew it was him. I could recognize the face easily. He was wearing a bright scarlet polo shirt. Another young man who pushed the wheelchair Moeha was sitting on, was wearing an almost identical attire.
He asked for my name and told him I am Shirzad Lifeboat. There was joy in his eyes as we hugged each other.
I supposed life is like that. You could never tell whom you will meet in the future. For instance, I met Cakapaje as just another person who sat next to me (and who cares, just few exchanges of smiles and hi and the moment you step out of the vicinity, you’ll soon forget if such a meeting had actually taken place.)
But for the next few weeks, Cakapaje seemed to be behaving like an electron spinning about an atom (and I’m sure he must have thought of me in the same way but probably with a different analogy), because we kept on crossing into each other paths. Later we found out that we are connected in a certain way. But of course I’m not at the liberty to reveal how we are connected. But I can tell you, I’ve never met him all my life except on that occasion he mentioned in his blog entry.
Sorry. I could not write anymore. I don’t know what I was writing a while ago. I must be having this damned stream of conciousness. Let me light a cigarette. Okay. Lighted one. Took a single puff and blow the smoke above my head. Yeah. I am kind of slow at writing entries on my blog. I was juggling with time trying to drink, eat pizzas and even smoke a cigarette or two while diving underwater. Let me see what should I write now. I love cats. Just the other night I saw a homeless Bengal kitten running about near a coffee shop. Maybe I should write something about cats. But then I have not seen or talked to Cakapaje for a while. He has ceased to behave like an electron spinning about an atom. And so last night he called me to ask if I’m alright. The electron is back now. I told him I am a little busy with the endless things I needed to do and promised I’ll be writing my new entry some time next week. But today, I think I just have that small space of time which I can devote to this. Unfortunately, I’ve used that space to write this note. As such, the real entry needed to be postponed sine die.

P.S. Please ignore the title of this entry as it has no bearing with this entry but rather with the next one, which is about a strange cat and some strange men.