has always been a favourite song of mine for any karaoke session. Call it my “lagu wajib” (a must song to sing), I would sing this often especially after the painful period of my divorce. It wasnt so much of the meaning from the entire lyrics but I think I like the song for its beautiful melody, at least to my ears.
And now, its singer Michael Jackson has died. At 50 years old, it could be considered a young age to die. But then again, he was no ordinary man. I grew up in the 80’s listening to his music and mimicking his moonwalk. I even watched “Thriller” for the umpteenth times. I even had my sleeves pulled three quarter, just like his. Alternating between blasting his songs on my tape player and practising for breakdance moves on the badminton court across our house, my friends and I would be discussing on what movie to watch on the coming Saturday morning.
There were only about few things that we had in common between us friends:
- Raleigh bicycles to do wheelies on the quiet streets of Raub
- running tracks at school
- movies on Saturday mornings (which we paid only 50 cents for each ticket but movies started at 9.00 am…)
- and, ice cream
When I watched news splased across the tv and newspapers of his death, automatically my mind raced back to those carefree days of youth. Funny how when you listen to a certain song, memories would be just flood back to that specific moment in your life.
The Teenager and her friends grew up in a gamut of entertainers and singers. Their idols kept on changing over the short years and I gave up trying to keep up. We call each other’s music as noise but during those long trips we take sometimes, in order to keep her glued to the seat and not fidgety and bother me, I would allow her to plug in the 4 gig thumbdrive filled with her kind of songs. In return, she cannot squeak a word of complaint when I drag her navigating the small streets of the old city of Malacca or Penang or trekking the deep jungles of Kota Kinabalu.
I think it was a fair bargain.
Of course she thought otherwise.
In the evenings, we would make peace and have dinner while discussing the days happenings. The finale of the evening would eventually having us ended up comatose in bed, ready for the next day’s adventure to some museums or another day getting acquainted with the leeches at the jungle trek.
I can tell you, it is a vicious cycle.
Ten years down the road, I do hope that when she hears a certain song, she would reflect back of the adventures that she had with me and said, “Yeah, I did this and that with my mom”.