RIFLE RANGE BOY: A wedding - a celebration of life?

BP was a year junior to me at university. Coming from a similar family background, we clicked. Our paths would occasionally meet in the daily hustle and bustle of our academic lives. Our course required us to spend two of our five academic years away from the main campus, at the university's teaching hospital in the East Coast State of Kelantan.

It was in my last year that BP used to hang out in my room in between his long studying hours. We used to chat about little things, such as quirky occurrences during ward rounds and other similar topics.

Soon, it was 1988, and it was convocation time, marking the beginning of the different paths life would take us. Working in various hospitals, we acquired the necessary skills to progress in our field of expertise.

Periodically, we kept in touch, trying to stay in touch as often as possible. It was the pre-digital era; hence, we had only depended on landlines and physical meetings.

Just last month, I was pleasantly surprised when BP called me on my mobile phone to invite me to his daughter's wedding. It took place in a private hall in a small town.

I used to think weddings were something personal, only to be shared within a close family circle and friends. That a large celebration was opulence and a waste of money that could be put to better use.

After attending the celebration, it dawned upon me that it is more than flaunting one's wealth or one that irks the roving eyes. I began to view wedding celebrations in a different light. It is a celebration of the path that both families traversed. It brings together all the people who were somehow involved in shaping a young couple into what they are today. They must have gone through their ups and downs together. This moment must be the victory lap for their labour of love, not for others to see but for themselves to bask in the glory for a task well done.

As mysterious as life can be, I noticed that many people BP invited for the wedding celebration were also known to me, but not through the standard university connection. The same people who crossed BP's life also crossed mine, albeit at different times during training in various towns. So it was a good catch-up time for me too. Some of them I had lost contact with for over twenty years.

Life springs so many surprises. Just like how I met BP many years after graduating in 1988. It was 1995, and as I was walking along the cobbled streets of Edinburgh one warm November afternoon, who did I bump into? A jubilant BP who had just passed his membership examinations at the Royal College of Medicine! And I was given the honour to share the proud moment of him receiving the scroll from the President of the College.