This, “Love Fiction” has nothing to do with “Pulp Fiction” and it’s my personal observation in the past few days.
Midnight, I was on a train back to the hotel. Sitting in front of me was a French couple. Initially I did not pay attention to them. Usually the French lovers’ impression on me is that when they sit together in a train, they (1) look at each other, then (2) smile and then (3) kiss. The whole process repeats again until the destination is reached.
But this time was different. (1) The man looked at the girl but the girl tried to look somewhere. (2) The girl was about to burst into tears but tried very hard to hold back the tears. (3) The man comforted her and whispered a few words. (4) They hugged each other. And again, the whole process repeated.
After a few stations, the man took out FF20 and a few coins (SGD6) and gave it to the lady. She refused initially but let the man put the money into her pocket.
The first impression to me was that they were going to miss each other and the man had given her with all the cash he had. Unfortunately there is no known ending to this tale as I departed before them. If we actually take in all the observation, it is still very difficult to guess what the real story like.
So with my wild imagination (being affected by movie overdose). (a) The guy has a wife and this girl was his mistress. The mistress realized she would not be seeing him after tonight, hence very sad. (b) The man was a bad guy and he was about to have a duet (fatal one-to-one) with his enemy. So he might not live to see the sunrise. (c) He was a murderer and was currently running away. Hence would not be seeing her for a long while. (d) The girl just got dumped by her boyfriend and the guy happened to be her best friend. (e) The guy actually broke up with this lady, apparently his girlfriend, and he was sending her off the last time.
The love of man, the tears of woman.
One sunny afternoon when I stepped into the hotel, I saw this beautiful dog standing right in front of me. I am not a dog lover but have to admit that she is very beautiful. Very big and sparkling pair of eyes. She was the small type with a body like sausage. Dark brown skin.
At first she was in the hall. Obviously her owner was not around. Then she began to walk out of the entrance. The two porters (one French, another North African), aged around 50, were immediately tensed up. Both of them tried their best to attract her back but she just seemed to be uninterested. They dared not touch her as dogs do bite.
And the dog ran out of the door. All of us (me + 2 porters + 4 tourists) rushed out of the entrance. Then the two porters shouted at each other. I guessed they both asked each other to chase after the dog. You should look into the North African’s (P1) face. He was in total concern and I could see P1 was about to cry. And P2 was just standing there like all of us, did not know what to do. P1, short and fat, ran after the dog (D0). Poor chap. And D0 was about to rush into the main road.
This time, P1 seemed to be able to get the attention of D0 and slowly, P1 guided D0 back to the hotel hall. All of us was in joy.
The love of dogs. As the nature calls.
We can definitely find a formula for world peace at last if we figure this out.
Always, the White hates the Black. That is called discrimination. One day, there was this Black mother carrying her baby (black). There was a White lady siting next to the Black mother showing immense affection and envy toward the baby (black).
At that very moment, I saw the breakage of the wall of discrimination. No color boundary. Why we always love babies no matter what color they are in ? If you loved me 20 years ago, why do you hate me now for I am of a different race ?
The love of baby. World peace, maybe ?
This is a visual experience. Use your imagination.
Once again, I was in a train. The train was at the station and door was opened. Stationary.
Suddenly there was some noise outside the train. Someone walked passed an Indian, who was selling some peanuts, overturned the Indian’s “table”. The “table” was made of paper box and all the packets of peanuts were on the floor.
All the people on the train were very concern, and some were curious.
The whistle was blew and the doors were closed. The train started to move away from the station.
Then I saw another Indian (20 steps from the first Indian) shouting at the guy. Obviously his “store” had been overturned as well.
As the train moved forward, I saw all the people of different color, who were at the station, shouting at the that bad guy.
Finally, I saw that guy. He was a Black walking proudly with head up.
And the train gained it’s speed and it was once again, in total blackness.
What is hatred ? What is love ?