After Thoughts

After Thoughts

I have to apologise to all the readers and the supporters of this story. I'm so sorry that I have took so much time to complete a story which seems so short. I sincercely apologise for it.

It ain't easy to to write this story, completing it is a mammothic task.

I started this story as a mere post in my blog of my not so daily happenings. However after the first post, I felt compelled to write the 1st chapter. But when I had finished 1st chapter, I felt that it was too boring and no one would actually bother reading about it.

How wrong was I!

Some of my friends actually do read my blog. When they came across the first two chapters of the story, they asked me why I did not continue writing it. I gave them the reasons as I had stated above. They were also asking whether the story was real.

I told them it is a real story. I did met the old man and the old man did relate the story to me. And the handkerchief does exist. That's when they urge me to continue writing on the story. I said I would think about it.

I tried working on the story again soon after that. But its not easy to relate the whole story while trying not to destroy the structure itself. I did get it moving, but a technical error by blogspot screwed my draft and I gave up working on it after that.

It was a good six months before I picked up from where I had left this story previously. Its not the urging of my friends that prompted me to continue on this story.

It was the passing away of the old man that made me picked it up again. In order to do justice to him, his wife, his life, his story and the handkerchief, I poured my heart and soul into this story.

I don't have to try to remember every detail. They were deeply etched in my mind. Except for the part of the wedding vows. I have to dig in my memories to make sure I got it right.

When I was working on Chapter 2, I did not expect any response or any readers to read it. I was doing it to make sure that I documented his story and hope some people will chance upon his story and get to know that love like this still exists.

However, when my friends knew that I'm working on chapter 2, they started to hound me for it. While I was working on the story in the office (aHem) one of my colleagues saw my draft and asked me to show it to him once I'm done.

The result was instantaneous. When he has finished reading it, he asked me where was chapter 3. I looked at him wide eyed and told him that I have not started working on it. He told me to hurry it up and offer to take over my work! Hahahaha...

And he is not the only one. The previous readers and the new readers (I don't know where did they come from) started to asked me for the next chapters. It was then I decided to get this story done not as a documentation but rather a narration...

Reasons

Some of the readers of this story know me in real life. They knew about my standard in English language and they were baffled on why there were so many glaring mistakes in it. I promised them that I would explained to them, which is now...

This story is not written in a story teller's view point. The whole point of why the story was written in such way is to allow the reader to feel that the old man is narrating the whole story to them in person.

The mistakes are deliberate. I am not writing a story. I'm writing out word by word exactly the same way as how the old man had relate the story to me. If you still don't understand, let's put it this way.

When your granddad is relating a part of his story to you, does he do that in perfect English? Or does he do that in whatever way he is comfortable with?

Furthermore, this story was not related in English. It was a Chinese dialect, Hokkien. And so now you all know why I took such a long time? Hehehe...

As some sharp eyed reader has noticed, there is only ONE dialogue in the whole story. And why is that? Thats for you to figure out... Hehehe... Most of the readers knew the reason why though :p

Someone once asked me about the title. Why not, Handkerchief, A Love Story? Or maybe, Handkerchief. Or maybe something else.

Handkerchief, His story. This title holds a very deep meaning. When I first started working on this story, I knew that I'm writing on someone's story.

A story means a part of life that has happened in the past. When that happens, we called that part of life, History. His story means History. Its his story that we are talking about. A history of his life.

Handkerchief, why handkerchief. This part of his life started before he had ever gotten that handkerchief. But this part of his life, took off from the moment when the handkerchief landed in to his life.

The handkerchief is the key that kick start this part of his life. It's also the main character that allows this part of his life to be filled with love. It is the key to this part of his story.

Conclusions

I have only met this old man once, which is the day when I picked up the handkerchief for him. I sent him home and after that never see him again.

I didn't go and visit him despite the fact that I know where he lives. I treated it as a passing incident that does not require much attention in my life.

No one informed me that he passed away. I guess no one would be able to inform me anyway. We knew each other for less than 24 hours. We did not left contact numbers for each other. It was by coincidence that I know that he had passed away.

I was on my the way to my friend's house when I passed by his place. I saw a wake being held under his block. I took no attention of it and I spotted the photo. The man in the photo was so strangely familiar to me yet I forgot who he was.

It suddenly hit me when that it was the old man with the handkerchief. I decided to go over to pay my respects. It was there when I saw her daughter. She looked so much like her mother, the one in the oil painting.

She asked me who I was and I told her about the incident with the handkerchief. I told her that his father related his story about the handkerchief to me. She smiled at me and asked me whether do I like that story.

I nodded and told her that I actually wrote on it on my blog. She gave me a smile and says that she is glad about it. We chatted a bit and suddenly, she asked me...

"Do you want to hear about the story of my mother?"