In the afternoon, I went to a wedding at Fullerton Hotel with Smt. Dressed in oh-so-kuning punjabi, with a kuning-keramat scarf hanging around my neck, plastic ear-rings and pink crocs covering my smelly feet.
Yes, I admit. I looked as if I’m not there for the wedding but to look for love instead. Haha!
Oh! The wedding was ohkay-ohkay larh.
Watching the couple’s video-clip makes me nervous until my right knee hitted the table. As if there was a great force telling me not to watch. Stubborn me, I watched till the end. Oh! I almost dropped a glass. Lucky thing I didn’t.
Anyway, I can’t say much about the wedding cause I’ve never ever dream for a wedding like that. And I know not the groom and bride personally. All I know is their name, Ziraj and Zabrina. And the groom used to study in the same already-bankrupt school as me and Smt. Nothing else.
After the wedding (after the major failure to find love), under sincerely-blue sky, Smt and I then zoomed away. We talked we laughed our hearts loudly like poultry farmers who just caught a hen that lays golden eggs, all the way to Suntec to grab the marathon’s goody bag.
As always, the goodie bag breaks our heart.
In it, it comes with a number-tag, a oh-look-no-hands shirt, a packet of pasta and some paper trash. Fucken pack of craps co-sponsors! Still got the cheek to shine themselves as big and powerful people on earth! I’d rather waste the money on many many Ikea blankets than letting money fly on this.
Ok time to sleep.
Oh wait! If the couple happens to read this, a million thanks to u for the warm smile. May the love and sincerity forever stay together, along with sweet cries and warm smiles till the end of the burning sun.