Not sober

Many years ago, while having a bowl of fish noodle in a kopitiam in Jalan Gaya, a man caught my eyes, and I wrote down my thoughts of him, in a little note book.

On a Sunday afternoon,
what is on your mind, I wonder?
I see five big empty bottles of beer on a coffee table,
Where you sit by, with a companion,
at a corner of a local coffee shop…

The ceiling fan’s spinning furiously,
But it seems to me you have sank back into total oblivion,
perhaps the smooth operations of your senses have been obliterated by the flow of liquor from your mouth, to every direction in your veins?

You are immersed in your own little space,
I initially thought that the glow in your eyes equates a certain vigilance,
but it turns out to be simply inebriated stares,
hidden behind are perhaps a feeling of desperation and hopelessness,
and you are trying to numb these feelings by emptying bottle upon bottle of liquor,
as I can see .

You stare blankly at the noisy crowd, meandering souls around you,
but I don’t think you really feel their existence,
because you have been entirely hypnotized by the very presence of liquor,
which has acquired an undisputed dominion over the space in your life for now…

But you seem happy and calm.
But I figure its just this game of illusion manifesting itself,
by influencing your subconscious mind into translating these expressions,
on your outer skin…

You don’t care about what others think of you,
even I myself have formed this judgment about you,
oh how I shouldn’t.
You think it’s sweet,
on your part, this perceived divine intoxication of the mind body and soul.

I have finished my noodles,
Another empty bottle is added to the table,
I think its going to be an extended session,
You have fallen deep in your drunken slumber,
I wonder, when tomorrow comes,
When the traces of alcohol slowly diminish,
will you again regain sobriety,
to face the day with renewed hope and promises?

I am leaving now,
I have only these few hours left,
tomorrow’s another working week,
I desperately crave a good rest,
There’s certainly no room for drinking session like this,
even if I so wish.

Do have a good time while you are at it.
Its funny though,
my observation of you,
have brought about a lingering emptiness, in me…..
you have slowly and moderately drunk the life out of this bitter liquid,
like a lost and inebriated soul you are,
Yet it’s ain’t poetry…