The Adventure

And so, we finally found time to travel south, to smell the southern ridges, to taste some of the almost fable-like exquisite delicacies and cuisines, found only in the, well, south. Those who came back alive mentioned that it was almost so good, that it’s worth dying for. We heard that the tribesmen from the south have jokes which would make you laugh so hard you’d puke last night’s supper. And of course, the legendary swordsmen who could slice your pancreas out in a perfect shape, and the best thing is, you’d feel no pain. That - we had to see.




We would do a thorough check up on the jeep which we were going to use, to our best knowledge, that it would not let us down. You see, we trusted this vehicle. He is more than just a vehicle to us. He’s family. Yes, family. Apart from breaking down several times in the city which he hates, he almost never gave up in the wilderness. When it came to crossing the river, when it came to negotiating with sharp uneven rocks, its 4WD system would have outperformed other pussies in the same class, anytime. The deep growling of the exhaust system always subtly hinted that he was hungry to digest some mud for lunch.




This adventure had been on our diaries for years now. We’ve always bitched about how busy we are, and how the world seems to be sucking the energy and time out of us like how my grandmother used to suck her old hut with the Akira Vacuum cleaner. It’s shitty, she’d say. We seemed to be addicted to the internet, this wild creature which would rob us of sanity, and of course, time, whenever we allow it to. That, was not family. There is just so much garbage online, begging for your attention, threatening our sleeping hours, each day. Day in day out, everybody seems to be busy developing some crap, posting in online, hoping that it’d catch fire, praying that it’d be the next big thing. Nowadays, it’s so dirt cheap for anyone to have a voice on the internet. To be part of a symphony is another matter altogether.




Anyway, we brought our musical instruments, we say, just in case we got bored, or whenever we had moments of weak emotional breakthroughs. And our mini amplifiers, to be powered by our huge ass dry battery. The drums, the bass, and 2 guitars. And 2 pails of mini effects pedals and what nots. So whenever we had a tune playing in our heads, we stopped, we would jam right there and then.




Usually we would brush our teeth at one of the many petrol kiosks. Sometimes we wonder how they actually manufactured toothbrushes. How did they actually stick the little soft fine transparent fibres to the main body of the tooth brush? Other times, we used Zact, and wonder if we’d die using it too often, while pursuing whiter teeth. And what would they say at our individual eulogies. Or would we have just one combined one. “They were good men, but they were weak,” some might have proclaimed. But they didn’t know us. They never would have a chance to see the world behind these walls.