of childhood memories and a few good people

It was almost painful hearing them talk.
It's like a chicken and duck trying to communicate
One was a sun-baked harden Chinese blue collared worker
The other a suave Kerala Indian who pilots a ship
Never mind the Chinese man was half drunk
Even if he wasn't, his vocabulary won't get him anywhere
The conversation wasn't going too far
It was just "happy..., healthy..., eat..., drink...,cheers!"

They had nothing in common. Absolutely nothing.

Except, for the fact that their paths once crossed almost 40 years ago
Their homes once shared a street call Mar Thoma Road
3 Indian brothers befriended a band of Hokkien-sprouting Chinese cousins
It was more than just a street they shared, it was a childhood worth treasuring
They hurled stones at birds, went fishing by rivers and drains, played "go-li"(marbles)
and what else i wonder

They really weren't going anywhere with the conversation

But they were holding hands, patting each other's back,
throwing their arm over the other's shoulder, toasting and filling the glasses
When Uncle Beng went back to his seat, i asked Uncle James how they communicated in the past
"I could speak Hokkien then and he could speak English."

Uncle Beng(Dad's cousin) came back(still tipsy) and he told me that i must learn how to be a good man from Uncle James

Uncle James told me, that my father "was a gentlemen in the past, and still is today." That he looked up to and followed my dad around as a kid.

I have NOT, never heard a good remark about my dad from others before

Maybe that's why it struck a chord
Maybe that's why i kept trying to interpret for them

"All the people who lived in that house were good people."

"i lived there, in the old zinc roofed house! I was born there!"
i wanted to announce.

It didn't matter.
It wasn't my night
Grandma turned 88
and memories of yesteryears turned sweeter