After midnight, took two young men from East coast to Bt Merah. They had apparently just finished their late supper, as they carried a thick smell of food into the car. They both looked to be in their early twenties. One was slightly older than the other.

The older boy was playing a PSP using his both hands while talked absently with the younger one, mostly about his games. He seemed to know a great deal about electronic games and, while kept playing the gadget in his hands, went through what he liked and disliked among a variety of games. Game design, graphics, level of difficulty, all flowed out of him so effortlessly like a stream running down a hill. I couldn’t help being amazed at how much time some kids spend on these things nowadays.

The younger boy, on the other hand, appeared to be less tech-savvy. Most of the time, he just listened. When he did speak, he spoke softly and carefully. Somewhere between the monologues of the game boy, he asked, “how come you know so much about these things?”

“Because I am interested in them,” the game boy said, with eyes still glued to the bright-screened machine.

“Are you interested in me?” the younger boy asked, gingerly.

“No,” the other answered immediately. “I am not interested in you.”

After a short moment of quietness, the game boy resumed his natural rate of flow of words. “You should try this game. It is really good. It takes the graphics to a whole new level…..”

The other boy continued to be an attentive listener and occasionally asked short questions in his usual soft voice.

As if nothing had happened.

At the destination, they said goodnight to each other and parted company.

For a moment, I felt a hint of sadness for the younger boy. I couldn’t place a reason, though.

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