Time zoomed by like a bullet train, and suddenly, I was in my early twenties. Life was a mixed bag of fate and choices as if I were part of an extravagant puppet show.
The strings were invisible red threads, and everyone else around me was the puppets. It might sound weird, but that's how it was.
Imagine this, I had just thrown my graduation cap in the air at twenty-two, armed with a shiny anthropology degree. On top of that, I had this extraordinary knack for making life look like an epic jigsaw puzzle of coincidences.
The college had turned me into a "Why?" machine, always curious, always questioning. Only my "Why?" was different – it was aimed at the threads, those elusive crimson wisps that connected people's lives in ways I struggled to understand.
"Wow, a good day and a good spot." I on the other hand, somehow enjoy the fascination with this ability.
"This is it, let's watch." Feeling like the world is a cinema.
As I wandered the lively streets of Xinyuan, I felt like a modern-day detective cracking a code only I could see. People bustled past, totally clueless about the intricate dance of destiny playing out around them.
If only they knew that their lives resembled a plate of messy red spaghetti, linking them to others in ways even they couldn't imagine.
Some threads were like wide expressways, with strong connections built to weather any emotional storm. Others were as delicate as a piece of thread, hinting at fleeting moments that could vanish as fast as a catchy tune's chorus. Yet every single one fascinated me, like a real-life soap opera unfolding right before my eyes, minus the dramatic background score.
Amid my thread adventures, I somehow managed to graduate from college. My friends couldn't wrap their heads around how I managed to concentrate in class when the real show was happening all around us.
"Oh, my, girl! You were actually listening to Mr. Willy Wonka?" my close friend Hao Suyin teased.
"HAHAHA, never you knew you had the ability." My other friend, Chen Yusheng added.
Oh tell me more about it.
Those university years saw the marriage of my fascination for anthropology with my quirky thread obsession. I dissected the threads with the precision of a scientist, hoping to spot patterns and connections that went beyond the surface.
And hey, I had an artsy streak too. Equipped with sketchbooks and pencils, I'd sit in a cozy café, playing the part of a "starving artist." But instead of drawing fruits or abstract shapes, I sketched the threads in all their intricate glory.
If only my sketches could predict the future, I'd be running a fortune-telling booth by now.
"Woah! That's so cool. What's that? A girl playing around with sewing threads?" I was startled by the little boy's voice behind my back.
"And for how long have you been standing there? And oh, these aren't sewing threads" I turned my back and curiosity swiped my plain facial expression a moment ago.
He then sat down in front. "Probably, 5 minutes? I don't know, I was just waiting for you to draw more lines and look at people repeatedly."
"What!? You know that's not a very good attitude right there, kiddo. Never look at someone's doing without permission. Besides, I'm not an artist on the street you could just watch. All right?" Surprised with his answer but I remained calm giving him a gentle lecture.
"All right, sorry Ma'am. But why are you looking at them repeatedly and sketching those sewing threads, I don't see them." He raised his eyebrow with a hint of wonder.
"Again, these aren't sewing threads. These are the red string of fate. Do you know about them?"
He shook his head cutely.
"These threads are what connect people who are destined for each other. It symbolizes different connections like romantic relationships or platonic ones like friendship."
"Woah! That's a very cool superpower. Never heard of that but… uhm does everybody have that thread?" His finger is on his chin.
"Yeah! I see them and oh, might be cool but you don't wanna wish for it." Reassuring him that it's not merely a gift.
"I see but what if it breaks or people don't have that thread? What happens? Does that mean they are forever alone?" And in a second, sadness drew on his face. Must've broken his own heart with his own thoughts.
"Hey hey... I honestly haven't seen anything like that, so don't think about it. Okay? If, by any means, they don't have these threads, you know that doesn't mean they can't create their own fate. Everybody has the choice to create their own destiny."
He gave me a sweet smile contented by what he heard.
"I'm Aang. Nice to meet you." He stretched his hand formally introducing himself.
"What? Aang? HAHAHA like the last airbender? Anyway, I'm Li Wei. Nice to meet you too."
"Yeah! Well, that's the name I gave myself because it's my favorite show." He giggled and just like that, a moment later, he said goodbye.
You see, because of that hobby of sketching in a cozy café, I met a naughty kid.
But that's not all – photography also became my secret weapon. I'd discreetly snap candid shots of city-dwellers as if I were capturing their threads on film. If I ever showed my photo collection to someone, they'd likely assume I was some sort of undercover investigator – or that I had an unusual obsession with taking candid pictures of strangers.
"All right, come on. Don't move you stranger." I said with my camera in hand.
"And yep! That's it." Satisfaction struck me when I got the shot.
Despite all the weirdness, "Why are you talking to yourself, young lady?" life was good. There were days of triumph, coffee in cozy cafés, and the thrill of solving the puzzle of those darn threads. Beyond the strangeness, beyond the threads, life had moments that shone as brightly as those connections that kept us all intertwined.