Lost In Translation

Often, I hear people asking me if I knew what it felt like when I hear a certain song, and that one song would mean something to me taking me back to a specific time and location in memory, etched in detail. I never related to that. Not very significantly, that is. Until yesterday while I was at work, the radio in the kitchen was playing Snow Patrol's Open Your Eyes.

And for the first time since the summer holidays started, I actually missed home.

I'd be driving home from work. Or maybe to Subang for church or just somewhere for mamak. Be it in peak hour traffic or speeding along a highway. I miss KL. The bad traffic. The company. The food. The nights. Mont Kiara. Hartamas. Subang. And the many, many shopping centres. The song was a soundtrack to the roads for some reason I can't quite remember. But it was awesome.

Summer 06/07. KL. Ernst & Young. Brodie and bapoks along Jalan P. Ramlee. Lomo LC-A+. Malacca. Christmas. Chinese New Year. Brothers and sisters from high school. And the long, long nights that never should've ended.

~

I recently heard two love stories this week.
One was from a backpacker I know. She's German from Berlin. He's French from Paris. She can't speak French and neither can he speak German. So they have to communicate in English. They met in Spain one night and fell in love. But because of their distance, they have to travel back and forth to meet and spend time with each other. And now they're both here in Australia just so they could spend better quality time together, backpacking with family and friends.

The second story is about an acquaintance's parents. His mum is a Japanese who came to Australia to study when she was about 17. She was here for university when she met his dad and they dated for a couple of years. But when graduation came, it was time for her to go back to Japan for that is where her family wanted her to be, and so she did. Not willing to give up, his father decided to then fly to Japan to look for her, and when he finally found her, asked her to marry him. They were 20.

As corny and easily looked over as it may be, I guess romance isn't quite dead. God have mercy on whoever's responsible for the endless Hollywood clichéd romantic comedies. As if they haven't done enough damage already. But honesty can still be found in this day and age, I suppose, with romances like these. Okay, so the one with the guy's parents may not be that relevant.

But such stories are still just great to hear.
I just hope more will keep coming and remain true.