I WALK into a small cafe in Johore Bahru - a highly-urbanizing community in Malaysia just across the Singapore Causeway.
It's a bit crowded, so I scan the tables for an empty one. The best I see is a table for four with just one girl sitting drinking coffee.
I notice it's someone I know, but I haven't seen her in awhile. I walk over to the table. She looks up and starts grinning, bouncing a little in her seat as though she's happy to see me.
“Hey! Sit down, how have you been?” she says motioning to the seat across from her. “I just got to town and didn't have a chance to get in touch with you.”
“Hi, yourself! I'm doing well, still writing and such,” I say, taking a seat. The waitress comes over and I order a strong coffee blend and donuts.
“I'm glad I was able to run into you while you're here. How are you?” I ask. “Hope you don't mind me saying so, but you don't look like you've been on the 'permanent vacation' your letters implied.”
She looks a little surprised by this comment and takes a sip of her coffee. “Well,” she sets down her cup, “all this traveling and work on the computer is wearing me out. I guess it shows a little.” She rubs her cheek, as though contemplating the comment.
“Are you happy?”
She chuckles lightly, and sarcastically says, “I'm delirious!”
She looks around the room, then back at me. “Don't get me wrong, I'm not sad or depressed. I'm indifferent. Indifferent to the world around me,” she smirks and stretches her arms out as to encompass the room.
“Ahh, viva indifference!” I laugh, “The great escape.”
“Now what makes you say that?”
“Well,” I explain, “indifference to me, works when used properly. Take for instance, if there is someone I've tried to help, only to find out they don't really want help to start with, they have no desire to help themselves,” I shrug. “I become indifferent to that person because it's how they have chosen to live.”
The waitress brings my donuts and coffee to the table, and I work on adding cream on the coffee. “I can be indifferent to a person or a situation,” I continue, “but not in general. That would be assuming the population as a whole, or any given situation, is hopeless.”
“I suppose I'm using it incorrectly by your definition?” She asks, smiling.
“By what you've just said to me, yeah, you're misusing it.” I notice the waitress has forgotten the cream and motion for her. My friend sits quietly, glancing around the room. She seems a bit uncomfortable.
“Read any good books lately?” she says.
I stop stirring my coffee and look up, “Oh, took that opportunity to change the subject, huh?”
“I thought it might work,” she laughs, “but if you insist, why not answer your own question - are you happy?”
“Well, I would prefer to think of it as contentment. I am doing exactly what I want to do.”
She raises her brow, “But then, you're not happy? You are contented? I don't see the difference.”
“Sorry I used 'happy' in the first place. It's just what most people understand,” I lean on the table towards her. “Happy, to me, is laughing at someone’s bad joke. It's not real and it's short-lived.”
I sit up again and take a sip of my coffee. “Now, contentment is real. It's like someone being able to leave a smile on your face even after they've left. Does that make sense?” I ask, hoping it does.
“Actually, yeah it makes sense.” She leans back slightly in the chair, “But, I like my indifference, it works for me and I don't have to care about anyone...”
“Especially yourself.” I interrupt. She looks like I slapped her, but recovers quickly, grinning, waiting for me to continue the thought.
“Your indifference seems to me, to harm no one but yourself, and knowing it's a choice you made, I can't be empathic about it.” I shrug.
“Well to me, it's the only choice. Nothing that has ever looked 'good' in my life has turned out that way." she explains, “So I'll stick to what I'm familiar with, and be indifferent.” She replies flatly, making a serious face to look sincere in her conviction.
I nibble a bit more on my donut and take a sip of my coffee. I haven't seen her in awhile, maybe sometime until I see her again.
“So, how's the 3D gaming over the Internet?” I ask in a cheerful tone, “I hear it's close to impossible to get a good game going?”
She smiles, “It all depends on the machine you're using and how much RAM you have.” We discuss 3D games and the Internet for a while, and then she has to leave.
“Let me know next time you're in town, maybe we could catch a movie and dinner, ok?” She smiles and agrees.
We both seem to know it's just a parting word. She is indifferent to life. I am indifferent to those who give up living.
The waitress comes by and refills my cup.
Damn good coffee here.