For some weird reason, I'd enjoy hanging around school even after class hours. I thought to myself that it isn't every day that I would be able to call myself a Londoner, or a student in a prestigious London university at that, so I might as well take as much of the experience in as possible.
I remember my school building being an old, chilly, concrete box- one with slow elevators and a nice view of the city once yoy peer out of the windows from its 11th or 12th floors. There was a stretch when the heaters in our lecture room would not work midway through afternoon lectures in the winter. Not a good thing.
Another odd thing I'd often think about and observe. Lots of young people in my midst. Lots of young couples. Lots of dreams only beginning to take shape. You know how you would sometimes think about accidentally meeting a perfect stranger, a girl you'd chat with and get along with, and totally jive with. So you would encounter this individual and share so much in common-and remain entirely platonic. Not a problem, because you would just feel so enamored by the fact that you would you, thousands of miles away from you homeland, would have someone so wonderfully chatty and fun to share your day's experiences with.
You'd go for walks and coffee and see London's touristy spots without a care in the world. You'd talk about home and how much you miss it but at the same time say how thankful you are to be in the UK for all too short a date. Irony can be sweet.
For me, there wasn't a single person whom I met and who stood by me for all this. My experiences were spread out across having met a number of extraordinary people. One, a lawyer. Another, a musician. Then one happened to be a corporate type like me. There were many others after that.
A girl. A guy. A common thread. A shared language and vision.
All that sounds like the beginnings of a solid screenplay, or book.
It's solid alright. It's made me type out this blog entry.
It's a start.
-M-
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